#I try to guess if it’s part of the nose for butterflies series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsnunoclock · 3 months

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I and My Annabel Lee | Rated G | Nat / Shauna | Part 3 of Odds and Ends series | Word count: 2,458 Tags: One Shot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Natalie Scatorccio, Pre-Plane Crash (Yellowjackets), Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends --- “My mommy and daddy told me girls can be firefighters or pirates or anything they wanna be when they grow up!” “Anything?” “Mhm! So you gotta pick the coolest pirate name ever, just like mine!”

Ahoy! Captain Natalie's sixth birthday brings an unexpected treasure - her first crew member with a pirate-perfect name, Shauna Shipman. ---

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

Annabel Lee

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

The sunshine, like a playful puppy, bounced through the curtains, waking Natalie much earlier than usual. Six! Today was her sixth birthday, and the excitement wiggled through her faster than a puppy’s tail.

Out of bed she sprung, unable to hold back a giant grin. Today was for adventures, birthday cake, and maybe even a bit of pirate treasure! As soon as Daddy left for work, Mom helped Natalie into her favorite dress. It was pink, fluffy, and proclaimed to be the official “birthday dress” despite getting a little snug around the middle. Birthday magic, after all, could make anything fit just right.

With Mom braiding her hair into two neat pigtails, Natalie hatched a secret plan. Under her bed, hidden like buried pirate gold, lay a special marker. Just in case any scallywags or grumpy sea monsters crossed her path, she’d be ready. With Mom’s back turned, Natalie slipped it into her trusty boots. (Thankfully, Mom let her wear these instead of the fancy shoes Nonna gave her last year, which surely wouldn’t fit anymore by now anyway.)

Out the door they went, Natalie bouncing with questions about their surprise destination. But Mom kept her lips sealed, just a smile and secret in her eyes. Soon, a giant yellow bus lumbered up, its brakes squeaking like a friendly monster. Holding Mom’s hand tight, Natalie climbed aboard and raced for the best window seat. She watched with wonder as the trees, then the houses rolled on by, trying to guess where they could be headed.

Then, a splash of red appeared in the distance - “Friendly,” it announced in big, curvy letters. Natalie knew instantly this was it! The perfect place, with the perfect name, to make new friends on her special day. As the bus stopped, she pressed her nose against the window, taking it all in with big round eyes. The building was so bright and welcoming, with sundaes and popsicles on display in the windows. Grabbing Mom’s hand, Natalie tugged with all her might. “Come on, come on!” she squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mom led Natalie to a cozy corner booth by the window. The birthday girl bounced on the plush red seat, her bright eyes flitting around like butterflies, taking in everything at once. Then, a flash of pink in a tall, frosty glass caught her attention - it matched her dress perfectly!

“Oh please, Mom, please!” Natalie pleaded. With one word of permission, she practically vibrated with joy. The nice lady in a red uniform called it a strawberry free ball with a wink, and Natalie giggled at the silly name.

When the cold, sweet drink arrived, Natalie initially wrinkled her nose after the first sip. But soon, a wide grin spread across her face as the delicious taste took over. A basket of fries appeared too, but since Mom hadn’t eaten breakfast, she knew those were off-limits.

As Natalie happily slurped on her shake, a friendly-looking man stopped by their table. He laughed, saying, “My, how you’ve grown, Natalie!” His crinkly eyes reminded her of her Nonno, but soon, the grown-up conversation started to sound like a mumble jumble in her ears.

Letting her gaze wander across the busy diner, Natalie spied a group of girls who looked to be her age, playing with dolls and tiny figures. All except one. A girl with brown hair sat slightly apart, gently rolling a bright red toy truck back and forth on the table, seemingly lost in her own world.

Before Natalie could look away, the truck girl suddenly glanced up and caught her peeking! Their eyes locked, but instead of hiding, the girl gave a big, toothy grin and yelled out a playful “Vroom vroom!” in a funny voice. Delighted, Natalie couldn’t help but grin back just as wide. Her heart thumped excitedly, and a fun idea popped into her head.

With a gentle but insistent tug on her mother’s sleeve, Natalie interrupted the boring grown-up talk. “Can I pleeease go play with the girls, Mom?” she begged, hopeful as can be. Mom, slightly distracted, gave a quick, absentminded nod without fully looking at Natalie. That was all the permission she needed!

She scooted out of the booth like a rocket and skipped towards the other table, light as a fairy. Butterflies fluttered in her tummy at the thought of making new friends. But before she reached them, Natalie remembered something special hidden in her boot - her trusty marker!

Sneaking out of sight, she discreetly pulled the marker out and carefully drew a twirly mustache above her lip. Then with her tongue peeking out in concentration, she added a connecting line between her eyebrows for good measure.

Giggling naughtily to herself, Natalie tucked the marker back into her boot for safekeeping. Then, with her secret identity in place, she skipped the rest of the way over to the table.

“Hello!” said little Natalie.

“Hello,” the doll girls greeted back, eyeing her up and down. “What’s that on your face?” asked the tall girl, stifling a giggle behind her hand.

“It’s my secret pirate disguise for my birthday,” Natalie declared, puffing out her chest a little.

“Pirates are for boys,” sneered another girl, her doll’s fancy gown flowing to the table. The other girls tittered and Natalie felt a heat rise to her cheeks.

Just then, the truck girl caught her eye, flashing Natalie a warm smile. Oblivious to the teasing, she happily scooted her toy truck closer to Natalie in a friendly invitation.

Natalie felt suddenly self-conscious under the mix of stares all around. “Um . . . wanna play over there?” she asked the friendly girl softly. The girl nodded eagerly, eyes big and brown as she took Natalie’s hand. Laughing, the two girls hurried off together to a vacant table just emptied out for them.

“I’m Natalie!” she introduced herself, settling down opposite the friendly girl in the comfy booth.

“I’m Shauna Shipman! See? My first and last name both start with S!” Shauna exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

Natalie’s eyes lit up at this interesting fact. “Oh wow, that sounds like a pirate’s name!” She pictured Shauna with a majestic pirate hat and an eyepatch, captain of the biggest ship she’d ever seen.

Shauna giggled, her nose crinkling. “Silly! Do you have a pirate name, Captain Natalie?” she asked, rolling the red fire truck towards Natalie across the table.

Natalie, heart swelling at the unexpected title, felt a blush creep up her cheeks, spreading a warmth across her face that mirrored the joy in her eyes. But the smile faltered the moment she glanced back at the girls with dolls, their giggles suddenly sounding harsh. “I, um, well . . . ” she mumbled, fiddling with her dress strap, “they said girls can’t be pirates.”

But her new friend Shauna made a loud, dismissive ‘pfft’ sound, waving her small hand through the air. She leaned forward with an eager twinkle in her eye. “My mommy and daddy told me girls can be firefighters or pirates or anything they wanna be when they grow up!”

Natalie’s eyes had gone big at this wonderful news and she bounced a little in her seat. “Anything?” Maybe she could be a pirate after all!

Shauna bounced too and nodded firmly, beaming with joy. “Mhm! So you gotta pick the coolest pirate name ever, just like mine!”

A big smile lit up Natalie’s face. She tapped her chin like the pirates do in thought. “Okay!” she said, her voice extra loud and important. “My pirate name is . . . Captain Blackboots! Because, well, look!” she exclaimed, lifting one leg high to show off her black boot.

Shauna giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “I like your name better! Can I call you Captain Nat-Nat?”

Natalie laughed at the silly nickname. It wasn’t quite as cool as Captain Blackboots, but it did sound friendly. “Okay,” she agreed, nodding with a grin.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Nat-Nat!” Shauna said with a smile, holding out her hand. “I’m Fire Chief Shauna!”

“Fire Chief Shauna?” Natalie repeated, her eyes wide. “That’s awesome!” She shook Shauna’s outstretched hand and the grin on their faces grew even wider. “Hey, do you wanna be on my pirate ship?”

“Hmm, can I drive the ship?”

“Sure, you can be captain too! We can take turns! Yo ho ho!” Natalie laughed, trying to sound like a pirate, just like her Nonno used to. “Do you know how to talk like a pirate, Fire Chief Shauna?”

Shauna shook her head.

“I’ll teach you! When the captain says something, you say ‘Aye, aye, Captain!’”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Shauna exclaimed, mimicking Natalie with a wide grin.

Suddenly, Natalie stood up on the booth, her arms stretched out for balance. “Look, Chief Shauna, I’m walking the plank!” she yelled, pretending to stumble across the wobbly seat. “Watch out for the scary sharks!”

Seeing Natalie pretend to fall into the water, Shauna burst into giggles. Soon, both girls were laughing so hard their bellies hurt and Natalie’s cheeks felt like they might burst from smiling so much. Who cared what those silly girls thought anyway? Today was her birthday, and on her birthday, she could be anything her heart desired, anything at all!

The more they played, the more Natalie realized Shauna wasn’t like other kids. Normally, kids poked fun at her mismatched clothes or teased her cardboard-sword battles against sea monsters. But Shauna, even when faced with the silly, mustached Natalie, greeted her with a warm smile.

Shauna was funny, too, in her own special way. Instead of telling mean jokes like other kids do, Shauna brought her toys to life with silly voices and crazy stories. The leftover fries on their table weren’t just fries anymore - they were a bunch of scared sailors clinging to a tiny raft. Suddenly, Shauna’s red fire truck would come zooming in, siren wailing with her best fire truck noises, to save the day. “Rescue mission!” she’d shout, scooping up the survivor fries into the truck bed with a grin.

But the fun didn’t stop there. Shauna would grab a straw and turn it into a helicopter, making a funny whirring sound with her mouth. The straw-copter would swoop down to whisk the remaining fries away to safety, and Natalie would laugh and laugh. Shauna’s imagination turned ordinary things into amazing adventures, and Natalie loved every minute of it.

Sharing also came easy to Shauna. The minute Natalie looked at the fire truck, Shauna pushed it over to her quickly, like she’d been waiting for her all along. Natalie grabbed it, giggling, and zoomed it around the table.

“Okay, Fire Chief Shauna,” she said in her big captain voice, “are you ready to save the fries people?”

“Aye aye, Captain Nat-Nat!”

Natalie zoomed the fire truck all over the table. “Wee-ooh, wee-ooh!” she yelled, just like Shauna showed her. She pretended the fries were people stuck on a tiny island, and the truck was their brave rescuer. With a big scoop, she grabbed them all up, earning a clap and a cheer from her favorite shipmate.

And that’s when she realized – the thing Natalie loved most about Shauna: her laugh! It burst out often, bubbly and bright like a happy pirate song. It made her whole face scrunch up in the silliest way that had Natalie joining in too.

Other kids’ laughs sometimes felt mean, even when she didn’t understand the joke. Their giggles often made her feel small, weird or left out for liking different things. But never Shauna’s. It made Natalie feel all warm and happy inside, like she belonged right where she was.

Shauna was unlike any other kid Natalie had met and she hoped with all her heart they’d be best friends forever.

“Natalie, time to go sweetie! We gotta get home before Daddy gets back.”

That was Mom ending their playtime, scolding Natalie after for the silly drawings on her face. She even gave a frowny look to Shauna that made Natalie feel a little nervous. With her shoulders drooping, Natalie said goodbye to her friend before letting her mom pull her away towards the door.

Just then, Natalie heard, “Wait!” She turned around to see her new friend racing over with her special fire truck toy. Shauna pressed it into Natalie’s hands with a big smile, making Natalie smile back just a little bit. She clutched the little truck like a pirate holding her treasure.

The bus ride home felt different, all quiet and strange. Mom whispered that their “little secret adventure” should stay between just the two of them. Natalie didn’t really understand, but she nodded anyway - she didn’t want to make Mom more upset.

Back home, Daddy was already in his big, comfy chair drinking his yucky grown-up juice like always. Seeing his curious eyes gave Natalie a worried feeling so she looked at Mom, hoping for help, but got a warning look instead, reminding her to go clean up.

Natalie, perched on the big bathroom chair like a wobbly pirate captain, giggled at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was a funny mess of black lines and green smudges, reminding her of her best friend and how much fun they had saving a whole bunch of lost fries. But then loud, grumpy voices made her smile disappear faster than a scoop of melting ice cream.

For days and days, Natalie begged to go back to the fun milkshake place. But Mom would either act like she couldn’t hear, or say “No!” in a voice that boomed like thunder. Sometimes, she’d even get a shushing sound and a frowny face. And even though Natalie asked and asked, they never went back to the place where she made her very first - and for a long time, her only - real friend.

Weeks turned into months, then months into years. Captain Nat-Nat, as she liked to be called then, slowly became just plain Nat. The memories of her firefighter friend faded little by little, like the echo of a song. But sometimes, when she’d see the little red fire truck on her shelf, her heart would do a happy little jump, just like on her favorite birthday.

#shaunanat one shot #shaunanat fic #shaunanat au #shaunanat #figured i'd post this here and give my shaunanat agenda a boost #earlier parts of the series can be found in my ao3 #chapter title taken from the poem “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe

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tsunderful · 1 year

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Some thoughts/predictions about Project Eden's Garden after sitting on the demo for a day, potential spoilers under the cut

I personally think the predator/prey theory about victims/killers is too obvious and on-the-nose, but then again the protagonist of a series called 'Eden's Garden' having a snake motif is also very obvious and on-the-nose, but personally, I hope they don't go that direction. Part of the fun of DR (for me at least) is trying to work out who'll be a victim/killer/survivor before the fact and it being as simple as 'he's got a butterfly tattoo so he's going to be killed' takes a lot of that out of things

I doubt Damon's gonna stay as the protagonist, mostly because I can't see him doing Free Time Events (if PEG is even doing those which I assume it is). I'm guessing they're gonna do a Kaede-style fake out and have him be the first victim (him outright saying how dangerous it was for him to speak his mind and turn everyone against him feels too much like foreshadowing). As for who's gonna take over as the protag if/when he does die, I'm hoping it's Eva but after the demo trial Wolfgang seems just as likely. Also, the fact that Wolfgang's bio specifically mentions him hating liars means the two would make for perfect rivals, even more so than Damon and Wolfgang.

Eva low-key gives me Senjougahara vibes like I could just feel in my bones that if this were a canon game her JP VA would've been Chiwa Saito and you can't convince me otherwise. All of that is to say she's best girl

Wenona or Cassidy is 100% gonna be framed for the other's murder. Cassidy mentioning that she gives most of her money away but keeps some for 'necessary funds' makes me wonder if she's going to turn out to secretly be a champagne socialist or something like that but the jury's still out on that one

#project eden's garden #fanganronpa

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celestial-thoughts · 2 years

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dirty little secret + oral pleasure // coupon book chronicles part 2

coupon book chronicles part 2 Bayley x Dakota x Shayna General series warning: NSFW content, minors proceed with caution. Content warning(s) specific to this chapter: sexual content, fluff, teasing

Shayna enters the bedroom to find Dakota curled up on the bed, reading a book. She flops onto the bed next to Dakota and scoops the smaller girl into her lap. Dakota lets out a little squeal of surprise as she's wrapped up in Shayna's arms.

"Hi baby," Shayna says, giving Dakota a kiss on the tip of her nose.

Dakota rests her head against Shayna's chest. "Hi," she says, smiling up at her girl. "What's up?"

"Are you up for some fun?" Shayna asks. It's just the two of them home right now, Bayley is on the road for work but Shayna and Dakota were given the weekend house shows off. The agreement in their relationship from the very beginning has always been that they don't have to all be intimate together all the time. If Shayna and Dakota want to have their time together, that's okay. The same is true for Dakota and Bayley, and for Bayley and Shayna.

Dakota turns around to face Shayna. "What did you have in mind?" she asks.

Shayna smiles, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the coupon book. She carefully removes one of the coupons, handing it to Dakota. Dakota reads it, feeling her cheeks flush. She knew Shayna would be eager to use this one. "Can you read it out loud for me baby?" Shayna asks.

Dakota nods, squirming a little in Shayna's lap. "Dirty little secret," Dakota begins, already feeling her stomach fill with butterflies. "Redeem in exchange for me describing a sexual activity I want to try. I must describe in detail, and answer any questions you have for me about the fantasy. Failure to comply will result in a punishment of your choice."

Shayna smiles at the sight of Dakota like this, cheeks flushed pink as she squirms but makes no attempt to escape. "Alright love, what have you got for me?" she asks. Dakota looks down at her lap, unable to meet Shayna's eyes. "Hey, look at me baby," Shayna says, her voice soft yet firm as she lifts Dakota's chin forcing Dakota to meet her eyes. "Kota, I promise I won't judge you. I won't make fun of you. You trusted me enough to give me the chance to use this coupon, and I hope you trust that I won't judge you for whatever you tell me."

Dakota leans in and gives Shayna a kiss. "I love you," she says softly.

Shayna kisses her back. "I love you too baby. Now take a deep breath and tell me whenever you're ready."

Dakota takes a deep breath, reminding herself that she's safe here with Shayna. "I really want to try facesitting," Dakota admits, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Shayna doesn't appear to have a strong reaction when she first hears this, and Dakota can tell she's trying to approach this conversation delicately, not wanting to scare Dakota away from opening up to her. "Would you be on the giving or receiving side of this?" Shayna asks.

Dakota nervously tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "Receiving. Specifically, I want someone sitting on my face while I get them off."

"Okay," Shayna says, giving Dakota's hand a squeeze. "I don't really know what it is, but I'm willing to learn if you'd explain it to me. But I have one concern about this. How will you be able to breathe?" Choking and breath play have always been things that are strictly off limits in the bedroom.

"Well, I guess the name is a little misleading," Dakota admits with a nervous giggle. "You wouldn't be putting all of your weight on my face, although you would be putting a good amount of weight on me but like, not so much that it would suffocate me-" She stops herself, shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm rambling again," she says, smiling sheepishly as her cheeks heat up.

"Don't apologize baby, you know I love it when you ramble," Shayna says, giving Dakota a soft kiss.

Dakota blushes again. "Anyways," she says, continuing her explanation. "What facesitting would look like with the two of us if I were on the receiving end, is that I would be laying on my back and you would be kneeling above me. You don't have to put any weight on my face, but that's part of the appeal for me." Dakota feels her cheeks flush. "In a nutshell, my face would be buried in your..." Dakota trails off, too flustered to finish her sentence.

"My pussy?" Shayna asks, smirking at Dakota.

Dakota blushes, nodding. "Yes," she says. "I could get you off with my mouth from this position. There's a lot of options for how to make it more interesting. Not that I've ever tried any of this but I've done my research."

"Oh really? Well then, what are some of the options?" Shayna asks, playfully tweaking Dakota's side.

Dakota flinches away, but the quickly curls up with Shayna again. "Well, you could grind against my face," she says. "And I know we don't do breath play, but if we ever did you could put all of your body weight on me for a few seconds at a time." She sees the stern look on Shayna's face. "I know, we don't do that. I'm just saying," she says, giving Shayna a quick kiss.

"Can you tell me why you want to try this?" she asks. Her voice is gentle and free of judgment, just genuinely curious.

"I like the idea of being on the receiving end of that dominance, while also being able to make someone else feel good," Dakota explains. "And I wouldn't really be able to see much, so I would be completely submissive and helpless to whatever else may happen to me."

Shayna lets Dakota’s words hang in the air for a moment. “So if you and me and Bayley were to add this into the bedroom, what would you want that to look like?” she asks.

The blush on Dakota’s cheeks deepens. “I would want to start with you two both stripping my clothes off. And then I would want you two to put me on the bed together. Remember that time when you carried me over your shoulder around the whole house and every time you stopped moving you and Bayley would squeeze and tickle my butt?” Dakota asks, butterflies filling her stomach at the memory.

“I sure do,” Shayna says with a smile. “You looked so cute, all helpless over my shoulder. And then your little squeal when we suddenly tossed you on the bed, that was adorable.”

“Now you’re just teasing,” Dakota says with a fake pout. “But yes, I would want all of that again. Once I’m on the bed I would want to watch you two take each other’s clothes off. And then I would want you to make me lay down on my back. I would have Bayley start on my face, and I would use my tongue on her to get her off while you played with my nipples in that mean way you like to do. And I would want you to do that alphabet trick you like to do on me.” Dakota blushes bright red now, but Shayna nods, encouraging her to continue. “After finishing up with Bayley, I would want her to make me kiss her butt, before being pinned back down and having you sit on my face. While I get you off, I would want Bayley to be reaching under me and squeezing and tickling my butt until I make you finish.“

Shayna can’t help but grin at the idea. “That sounds amazing baby,” she says. “Now I have just one more question. If we were to fulfill this fantasy of yours one on one, just you and me, what would you want to do?”

Dakota blushes harder than she thought was possible. “I can’t tell you that,” she protests, flustered.

“Why not angel?” Shayna asks, stroking a finger over Dakota’s blushing cheek.

“It’s too embarrassing,” Dakota whines.

“Well according to the coupon, I get to punish you if you don’t comply,” Shayna reminds Dakota. “So unless you want to tell me what fantasy you’ve dreamed up, you’re gonna be in trouble.” The last few words come out almost as a song, and Dakota squirms as she shakes her head. “Alright baby, you asked for it.”

Those are the last words to leave Shayna’s mouth before she pounces, pinning Dakota to the bed and shoving her hands under the oversized t-shirt that the smaller girl is wearing. “Shayna!” Dakota squeals in shock, before she’s reduced to a puddle of helpless laughter as Shayna tickles up and down her sides and across her stomach.

A few minutes pass before Shayna slows down, but doesn’t stop completely, leaving Dakota still giggling beneath her. “What’s it gonna be cutie? Are you going to tell me what you want?“

Dakota squirms underneath her. She already knows how this is going to end. She knows that she’ll end up telling Shayna one way or another. But there’s a small part of her that wants to make Shayna work for it. So instead, in a move she will most definitely come to regret, Dakota looks up at her girlfriend, smirking through her giggles. “Make me.”

Shayna’s eyes light up at this and she smirks. “If you insist.” She dives back in, tickling faster than before. This time, she also buries her face in Dakota’s neck, alternating between teasing the soft skin with kisses and raspberries as Dakota can do nothing but giggle and squeal as she blushes bright red and squirms underneath Shayna.

It isn’t until Dakota begins to have trouble catching her breath that Shayna lets up. “Hey hey hey, deep breaths love,” she says softly, gently rubbing Dakota’s stomach and sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it that far baby.”

“It’s okay,” Dakota says after her breathing is back to normal.

Shayna helps her sit up against the pillows. “So, are you going to tell me what I want to know?” she asks.

Dakota blushes, but nods. “Fine, but only because I don’t think I can take that again.”

“I think we both know you can take more than that,” Shayna laughs, pressing a kiss to Dakota’s forehead. “But alright baby, go ahead.”

Dakota takes a deep breath, already feeling the butterflies in her stomach. “I mean, it would start the same as the one with me, you, and Bayley,” Dakota begins.

“You mean me stripping you naked and then carrying you around the house while I squeeze and tickle your cute butt?” Shayna asks with a smirk.

Dakota whines with embarrassment. “Yes, that. And then you would toss me on the bed like you did that one time,” she continues. “You would take your clothes off and then push me down onto my back and start to sit on my face. But before you fully get there, you would stop and just hover over me until I ask you to sit on my face.” Shayna’s eyes light up at this and Dakota blushes again. “Once I do, you would sit on my face and I would get you off with my tongue. While I’m doing that, you would bounce up and down on my face a little. Not enough to hurt me, just to reinforce the dominance you have over me.”

“So what happens when you get me off?” Shayna asks.

Dakota squirms at the question. “You could decide if you want to release on my face or on my breasts, or somewhere else.”

Shayna takes Dakota’s face in her hands. “I want you to be honest with me baby. Can you do that?” she asks.

Dakota nods. “Yes, Shay. I promise,” she says, her voice a little shy and timid.

“Would you want to do this with me?” Shayna asks. "Because I think it sounds amazing, and if it's something you want to do, I want to make it happen for you but I will never force you into anything you're not comfortable with." Shayna pulls out the coupon book again. "However, I do have this coupon," she says, flipping to another page and handing it to Dakota. "You know the drill baby," she says with a little smirk.

Dakota looks at the coupon and smiles as she reads it out loud. "Oral pleasure: entitles you to oral sex (me giving, you receiving). Time, place, and position are up to you." She looks up at Shayna, a shy smile on her face. "You really want to use this one to fulfill my fantasy?" she asks.

"Yes," Shayna says, without a moment of hesitation. "Baby, believe me when I say that I absolutely want to do everything that you described. But if you're not comfortable with it, I won't make you do it." She lifts Dakota's chin and kisses her. "So what do you think?" she asks.

Dakota blushes, but nods. "I want to do it," she says, her voice firm and confident.

Shayna reaches out and brushes a lock of Dakota's pink hair out of her face. "Then let's do it," she says. "But before we do, there's one thing we need to establish." Shayna puts her hands on Dakota's shoulders, never breaking eye contact with the smaller girl. "First, what's your safeword?" she asks.

"Cardiff," Dakota says immediately.

Shayna gives her a kiss. "Good girl. However, if you need to safeword and I'm sitting on your face, I want to make sure we have something physical you can do."

Dakota thinks for a moment. "Maybe I could tap your leg?" she suggests. "Two taps if I need a break to breathe or for water. Three taps if I need to be done, basically the physical equivalent of using my safeword."

Shayna smiles at Dakota fondly. "That sounds like a great idea," she says. She tears out the coupon from the book and hands it to Dakota. "Alright Kota. Are you ready?"

"Yes," Dakota says, her stomach fluttering in anticipation as Shayna smiles at her with a look of both mischief and excitement.

Suddenly, Shayna scoops Dakota off the bed and carries her into the bathroom, grinning at the sound that her girlfriend makes. She sets Dakota down on the sink and closes the door. "Let's get these clothes out of the way, shall we?" Shayna asks, but Dakota knows it isn't really a question. "Arms up baby," Shayna instructs as she grabs the hem of Dakota's t-shirt. Shayna carefully lifts it up over Dakota's head, and her eyes widen at the sight of Dakota in a silvery gray bra, the delicate lace cupping her breasts. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who planned on having fun today," Shayna says with a little smirk.

Dakota giggles. "What can I say? I figured you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to have me all to yourself."

"Fair enough," Shayna agrees. She wraps her arms around Dakota's waist and pulls her down off the counter, in front of the mirror on the back of the door. Gripping the waistband of Dakota's black joggers, she pulls the pants down to reveal the lace underwear that matches Dakota's bra. "Baby you are just begging to be played with, looking all gorgeous like this," Shayna teases as she stands behind Dakota, both girls facing the mirror.

Dakota blushes and looks down at the floor, flustered by Shayna's praise. "I'm not gorgeous," she mutters under her breath, but Shayna hears it.

"Nope, none of that," Shayna says. She reaches around Dakota and gently lifts the smaller girl's head to look in the mirror. "Baby, I promised I would give you exactly what you wanted and I'm going to do that. But we're not going anywhere until you look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that you're gorgeous."

Dakota lets out a little whine. "Don't be mean," she protests, squirming in Shayna's hold.

"You're being mean to yourself Kota," Shayna says. "Now look in the mirror and say that you're gorgeous, and I promise I'll give you everything you want."

The color in Dakota's cheeks deepens as she forces herself to look at her reflection. "I'm gorgeous," she finally manages to say, the words just loud enough for Shayna to hear.

Maybe if the circumstances were different, Shayna would make Dakota say it louder. But right now, she's just proud of her girl for saying it at all. "Good girl," Shayna praises, turning Dakota around to face her and kissing her hard. "Such a good listener for me." She reaches around behind Dakota's back and unclasps her bra. The lace falls away, revealing Dakota's round breasts, her pink nipples stiffening slightly at the cool air. Shayna runs her thumbs over them. "Beautiful," she whispers. She bends down so that she's at eye level with Dakota's chest, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on each of her nipples.

"Tease," Dakota whimpers, blushing yet again.

Shayna smiles at her. "It's not my fault you look so pretty when you blush," she teases. She hooks her fingers through the waistband of Dakota's underwear, slowly sliding the garment down her legs and off her body, setting the pair aside with the rest of her clothes. "So tell me baby, I understand why you liked it when I carried you around naked before, when Bayley and I were both here to play with you, to enjoy the sight of you helplessly giggling over my shoulder." Shayna picks Dakota up, setting her back on the counter as she talks. "But why do you want me to do that now, when it's just you and me?"

Despite knowing that Shayna is asking out of genuine curiosity and not because she's trying to embarrass her, Dakota can't help but blush at the question. "I like it when you carry me around," she admits. "I feel safe when I'm in your arms, and it feels like an easier way to switch to you taking more control if you're holding me, bringing me wherever you want."

Shayna leans in and gives Dakota a kiss. "Thank you for being honest with me," she says gently.

Suddenly, she lifts Dakota up off the counter and over her shoulder, her bare, round butt in the air as she carried out of the bathroom. Shayna only needs one arm to keep Dakota in place, and she holds Dakota's legs tightly against her as she carries the smaller girl out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

"You like this baby?" Shayna asks with a smile on her face as she gives Dakota's butt a squeeze.

"Maybe," Dakota says, but Shayna can hear the grin in her voice as she carries her through the kitchen.

"I wonder how you would feel about me bending you over the kitchen counter," Shayna remarks, pausing next to it as she holds Dakota firmly in place. She gives her girlfriend's butt a playful smack. "Letting me spank your pretty ass until it's red, and then leaving you there for a while." She moves towards the kitchen table. "Maybe I would tie you up with your butt in the air on the table. All on display there for Bayley and I to play with. How does that sound baby?"

Dakota moans, fingers tangling into Shayna's hair. "Please," she gasps. "That sounds so hot."

Shayna smirks. "Maybe we'll save that for when Bayley is home," she says, continuing into the living room. “Or maybe we should lay you across our laps during movie night, your cute butt at our mercy as we tickle you all light and soft,” Shayna suggests, and her casual tone somehow makes it more flustering for Dakota.

“Mean,” Dakota pouts, squirming in Shayna’s arms.

Shayna grins, continuing to tease. “We would do a little something like this,” she begins, quickly spidering her fingernails over Dakota’s cheeks, smiling at the squeal Dakota lets out. “Maybe we could get out that feather duster that you seem to think we don’t know about,” she adds. "You know, if you wanted us to tickle you with it, all you had to do was ask." She speeds up her fingers, making Dakota giggle helplessly.

“Shayna!” Dakota squeaks, squirming in her girlfriend’s grip.

“Yes love?” Shayna asks, her voice innocent.

“It tickles!” Dakota whines, burying her face in Shayna’s neck.

“That’s kind of the point baby,” Shayna teases. “Besides, you know how much I love to hear your helpless giggles.”

Dakota feels her cheeks flush. "Promise that when Bayley gets home you'll actually do all the things you're telling me about?" she asks. "Because it sounds really hot and I want to try it."

"Promise," Shayna says, reaching over and patting Dakota on the head. She continues to carry Dakota through the house, going down the hallway and into the gym, which has one wall lined completely with mirrors. "Maybe one day Bayley and I will tie you up in the corner here," Shayna teases. "Keep you in here on display for us while we work out. Play with you between exercises, get you all nice and needy for us." She gives Dakota's butt a firm squeeze. "But that might get a little too distracting," Shayna adds with a smirk.

She carries Dakota up the stairs, running her hand over Dakota's butt as she tickles lightly. She brings Dakota back into their bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Ready baby?" she asks.

"Yes," Dakota manages to squeak out through her giggles. Suddenly she lets out a squeal as she's tossed onto the bed, bouncing as she hits the mattress. She slides back, leaning against the pillows. "You're wearing way too many clothes," she says, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shayna smirks. "You wanna see me that badly?" she asks. Dakota nods eagerly, and Shayna smiles. "Well since you've been such a good girl for me today, why don't you come and help me?" she suggests.

Dakota's eyes light up and she scrambles to the foot of the bed, bouncing on her knees in excited anticipation as Shayna takes off her t-shirt. "Can I take these off?" Dakota asks, hooking her finger through the one of the belt loops on Shayna's jeans.

Shayna smiles down at Dakota. "Sure baby, go ahead." Dakota quickly unbuttons the jeans and pulls the zipper down. She pushes them down to Shayna's knees before letting her finish taking them off, leaving her standing there in only her bra and underwear. "Which one do you want me to take off first?" Shayna asks.

"Can I take your underwear off?" Dakota asks, looking up at Shayna with hopeful eyes. Shayna nods, and Dakota begins sliding the fabric down Shayna's thighs and over her knees until it drops down around her ankles.

Shayna takes off her sports bra, and Dakota's eyes widen. "Like what you see love?" Shayna asks, a teasing smirk on her face. Dakota nods, unable to take her eyes away from Shayna's breasts. "Do you want to touch them?" Shayna asks.

"Please," Dakota whispers, cheeks flushing pink and warm. She reaches out, gently running her fingertips over Shayna's round, pink nipples. "So pretty Shay," Dakota whimpers, peeking up at Shayna through her eyelashes.

"Thank you baby," Shayna says, giving Dakota a kiss on the top of her head. "Now, how about we get to what you really want?" she suggests, and Dakota nods eagerly. Shayna guides Dakota to lay down on her back. Before she does anything else, Shayna looks at Dakota with a serious expression on her face. "What's your safeword?" she asks, even though Dakota has already told her. She needs to know that Dakota still remembers.

"Cardiff," Dakota responds. "And if I can't talk, I tap you twice for a break, three times for a full stop."

"Good girl," Shayna praises. "Once I sit on your face, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions. I'll ask you if you can hear me, then if you can breathe, and finally if you're comfortable. I want you to tap my leg to respond. One tap means yes, two means no. Got it?" Dakota nods, and Shayna gives her a kiss. "Okay baby." She straddles Dakota’s face, one knee on either side of her head facing towards the headboard, lowering herself until she's only inches away from Dakota's face.

"Shayna!" Dakota whines, cheeks flushed as she stares up at her girlfriend's cleanly shaven slit.

"You know what you have to do," Shayna tells Dakota, reaching behind her to tweak one of her nipples and smiling at the little yelp that Dakota gives in response.

"Fine," Dakota sighs, blushing bright red. "Will you please sit on my face Shayna?" she asks, flustered and embarrassed.

"Good girl," Shayna coos. "Such a good girl, asking for what you want." Slowly, she lowers herself down onto Dakota until her girlfriend's face is buried in her pussy. She doesn't have all of her weight on Dakota, knowing that she would suffocate the smaller girl that way.

"Alright love, can you hear me?" Shayna asks. Less than a second later, she feels a single tap on her leg. "Good, can you breathe?" A second later, another single tap. "Good. And is this comfortable?" Another single tap. "Good girl," Shayna praises. Dakota moans beneath her, and the sensation ripples through Shayna's body.

"Alright baby, go ahead. Show me how good you can make me feel," Shayna says. "And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about what you said you wanted me to do while I have you in this position."

Dakota gives a happy little hum from under Shayna, feeling how Shayna's body shudders at the sensation. She begins to flick her tongue back and forth over Shayna's clit, and moans as Shayna tugs at her hair. Dakota pauses for a moment, then taps Shayna's leg twice.

Shayna quickly moves off her, kneeling down next to her head. "What is it baby? Did I hurt you?" she asks, trying to keep herself calm.

Dakota shakes her head. "No, just maybe less hair pulling?" she asks. "And also, you can talk to me you know. You're in charge here, I'm submitting to you. Make sure I know it."

Shayna breathes a sigh of relief, the panic leaving her body. "Okay, I can do that," she says, leaning down to give Dakota a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for telling me baby," she says. Shayna returns to her previous position, once again sitting on Dakota's face.

Dakota begins to draw circles with her tongue around Shayna's clit, being sure not to hit it just yet. Shayna lifts herself up slightly, before pushing herself back down onto Dakota's face, and Dakota lets out a moan. "You like that baby?" Shayna asks. Dakota taps her leg once for yes.

Noticing how wet Shayna is getting, Dakota gently blows on her girlfriend's warm pussy, the same trick Shayna adores using on her. To Dakota's surprise, Shayna's reaction is also the same as hers, a squeal that Dakota would not have guessed Shayna was possible of producing. "Oh you are so going down for that one baby," Shayna tells Dakota, putting a little more of her weight on the girl beneath her.

Dakota lets out a moan of pleasure as Shayna's wet slit pushes against her face. She gently slides her tongue until she reaches Shayna's clit, stopping as soon as she arrives there. Pressing her tongue against it but not moving it at all.

Shayna lifts herself up slightly, removing some of the pressure on Dakota. "Oh I see how it is," Shayna says. "I let you have a bit of dominance and now you think you can be a tease." She lifts herself up so she's hovering over Dakota and looks down at her with a smirk. Suddenly, she slams herself down onto Dakota's face again, making sure to control her body so she doesn't hurt Dakota.

Dakota groans happily as Shayna grinds her wet pussy against her face, Dakota's skin becoming slick. Dakota carefully begins to trace out the alphabet with her tongue, something that she has been on the receiving end of many times from both of her girls, but has never had the chance to do on anyone.

Shayna dissolves into moans and gasps, only able to force out a few words here and there. Most of what Dakota can make out is "more," and "faster," so she obeys, finishing the alphabet once and doing it again, moving her tongue faster this time, sweeping it over the folds of Shayna's pussy as her face is buried in it.

She's just finished the alphabet for a third time when Shayna's moans increase in volume. "I'm close Kota," Shayna manages to gasp, writhing against Dakota's face. She moves off her mouth but grinds herself against Dakota's chest, giving Dakota enough of a break to be able to respond.

Dakota smiles up at her. "I'm gonna make you feel good baby," she says. "I promise. Just remember the one thing I asked of you."

"I know, I know, I know," Shayna says quickly, the words tumbling out between shudders of pleasure. "You want me to release on you, anywhere I want." Dakota nods, and Shayna returns to her face, immediately letting out a moan as Dakota blows again on her clit before flicking her tongue up and down over it. She continues this motion, picking up speed and intensity until the few words Shayna was coherently saying before are gone and all Dakota can hear is moaning and gasping as Shayna screams with pleasure.

Suddenly, the weight of Shayna's body on her face is gone, and the next thing Dakota registers is the sound of Shayna letting out a loud screaming moan as she climaxes hard, releasing over Dakota's breasts, covering Dakota's chest with it.

Shayna starts to drop onto the bed next to Dakota, but the smaller girl shakes her head. “Wait, can you hover over me again?” she asks. “Not sitting on me, just right above me.”

"Sure baby," Shayna says, straddling Dakota's face and lowering herself down so her slit is inches from Dakota's mouth, dripping wet.

Dakota pushes herself up a little to meet Shayna, and places a soft kiss on her clit. "Okay, now you can come down here," Dakota says.

Shayna drops onto the mattress next to Dakota, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. She reaches out and runs her fingers over Dakota's chest, now sticky with her release. "So what did you think?" she asks Dakota, tracing over her skin. Dakota shifts in her spot, a look of discomfort on her face. "Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now," Shayna teases.

"It's not that," Dakota reassures her. "I just," she trails off, gesturing to herself.

Shayna quickly puts it together. "You want me to clean you up baby?" she asks. Dakota nods, and Shayna gives her a smile. "Okay, I'll be right back," she says. She goes into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a washcloth. She carefully wipes off Dakota's chest and her face, gently cleaning her off and returning the cloth to the bathroom before sitting back down on the bed and pulling Dakota close, her back against Shayna's chest. "Is that better?" she asks.

Dakota nods, turning to face Shayna, sitting in her lap with her legs wrapping around, ankles crossed behind Shayna's back. "Sorry," she whispers.

"Hey, you never have to apologize for that baby," Shayna says, trying to reassure her. She strokes Dakota's hair. "So did you like it?" she asks.

Dakota nods, giving her a shy smile. "I loved it," she says. "Did you like it?"

Shayna kisses her softly. "It was amazing baby. I'm so glad you told me you wanted to do this." She runs her hands up and down Dakota's back. "Although I'm still going to get you back for that little trick of yours earlier," Shayna adds with a grin.

"Which one?" Dakota asks with a smirk. "The one where I made you squeal? Or the one where I showed you what it's like to be on the receiving end of your mean little alphabet game?"

"Both," Shayna says, giving Dakota's sides a quick squeeze and grinning at the little shriek she lets out. Dakota snuggles closer. ”Are you cold baby?” Shayna asks, and Dakota responds with a nod and a shy whimper.

Shayna reaches over to the side of the bed and grabs Dakota’s gray hoodie. “Is this one good love?” she asks.

“Perfect,” Dakota says, slipping it on and curling back up next to Shayna “You want a sweatshirt?” she asks Shayna.

“Sure.” Dakota scampers off to get Shayna a hoodie. She returns and hands Shayna a sweatshirt. Shayna puts it on, and Dakota snuggles close to her. “I love you baby,” Shayna says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you too Shay,” Dakota says. She eventually falls asleep with her head in Shayna’s lap. And if Shayna takes a picture of Dakota curled up sleeping peacefully and sends it to Bayley, well, Dakota never has to know.

#my writing #wwe #dakota kai #shayna baszler #bayley #fluff #smut #teasing

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itsbrandy · 6 months

Text

Burnout Chapter 9

Summary: Bee has a chemistry read with Dieter

Word count: 7.5k

End of Episode song: Future Lover - Thee Sacred Souls

Chapter 9: Dance Card

Bee had felt the crushing blow of anxiety before — many times before. From the auditions of her youth to the crushing fear of failure brought to her from her childhood, she became well-acquainted with sweaty palms, shaky hands, and a fluttering heartbeat.

But nothing had ever hit her with such a powerful wave of dread before this. Nothing had ever sent her stomach flipped entirely upside down, winged butterflies threatening to send her breakfast spewing all over the studio floors.

Claire looked at her with an approving smile, her hands were tucked neatly in her lap, but Bee could have sworn that Claire would be holding up two thumbs up if she could without looking too biased.

The scripts appeared out of thin air, and suddenly Bee was holding a thick script in her hands, so different from the measly page of sides she had initially received. Dieter stood beside her, unphased by the addition of the scripts, with a simple smile plastered on his face that turned his mustache up at the edges.

That detail turns Bee’s eyes back toward the executives who are there to decide her fate. Her options aren’t great — look at Dieter and get absolutely starstruck and heartsick until you die, or look at the casting panel and feel so nervous you might die. Or was it the other way around? At that moment, it didn’t matter. The situation was simultaneously the worst and best moment of her life.

The director laughed, just a huff of breath from her nose. “I guess we could’ve just given them the other printouts, but I love the look of a good old-fashioned script binder.”

Bee laughed, too, trying her best to fit in with them. “Which page is it?”

The director flipped through the pages as quickly as possible. “I think it’s 57. Let me just find it.”

Bee nodded, sucking in a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth to steady herself. From her side, she could hear Dieter flip through the pages of his binder to try to locate the scene.

“Not sure if I remember this one,” he says to himself, earning a laugh from Claire.

“What? You’re not studying the script day and night?” She asked playfully.

Dieter shook his head ‘no.’ “Absolutely not. It’s too early.”

“Not for me,” Claire said. “I’m so excited I can’t stop reading it.”

The others laughed along with her, uttering a series of ‘Yes!!’ and ‘How could you not?!’

“What?” Dieter asked. “I get too nervous if I’m overprepared.”

“I actually relate to that,” Bee said, turning to page 57.

“See?” Dieter joked. “I’m relatable too.”

“Okay, okay,” the director said, stopping on the correct page. “It’s actually page 58, so just one over now.” At the same time, Dieter and Bee flipped their script page over.

“Starting from where Celine says ‘I hate you,’” the director instructed. “And I’ll give you both a minute to read over it and make sure you kind of get the feel for it. This scene is where Duncan, aka Dieter, has stolen Celine’s dance card, which is her list of gentlemen who wish to court her for the evening. She has approached him by the lemonade station to demand it back, which is very unladylike, and as the fight occurs, Duncan decides that he thinks she is very beautiful.”

Okay, Bee thought to herself. So not realistic, then. There’s no way I’m getting this role if I’m supposed to be hot enough to stop Dieter Bravo in his tracks.

“Got it,” Dieter said. “I do remember this part.”

Too nervous to say anything, Bee just nodded her head in response. Her eyes skimmed over the page, noticing the tension of the scene. It was similar to the scene she had exchanged with Claire, the outrage and the high-level quarrel.

“Let us know when you’re ready,” the director said with a clap of her hands. She looked at Claire and mouthed the words, ‘So excited!’.

Claire grinned and nodded her head eagerly.

“I’m ready,” Dieter said shortly after. He looked at Bee, but Bee kept her eyes focused on the page in front of her. Glimpses of the argument pop out at her, and she remembers the audition practice she had done with Claire the day before.

“Don’t overdramatize,” Claire had said. “Let it flow. You’re pissed. I know you’ve been angry with a man before, so pretend I’m a man and let me have it.”

“I’m ready,” Bee said, rolling her shoulders back.

“Alright, I’ll read you two in!” The director said happily. “The music fades a bit, and we see Celine at the edge of the dance floor. Every other lady in her vicinity is being led onto the floor by a young gentleman except for her.”

Bee thinks for a second, remembering that Celine is supposed to be considered an old maid by the standards of the society. She especially can’t be seen acting like a dramatic teen because she would be even more unattractive to the men that are eligible to be married.

“I see that my dance card is missing,” she said, with accusation in her voice. Even with the binder in her hands, she altered her stance to lift her chin up and carry herself with more poise and refinement than she did in her day-to-day life.

Her eyes met Dieters. His brown orbs nearly gave her a heart attack with the level of sexual tension behind them.

God, he’s good, Bee thought.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dieter said with a husky element to his voice and a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Gentlemen aren’t given dance cards.”

“I didn’t give you anything,” Bee said with a roll of her eyes. “You know that I didn’t give it to you. I wouldn’t even add you to my dance card if my mother begged me to on her knees. So, give it back.”

Dieter smiled at her, his teeth dazzling, and his stare held want for her. “Do you really have so many men on your dance card that you’ve forgotten all of their names?”

“Maybe,” Bee said, showing up how embarrassed she felt. There wouldn’t be that many suitors for her character, according to the plot note in the script. She was older, and she wasn’t as desired, having chosen to be one of few women who studied rather than built households.

“Are you sure?” Dieter teased. He was humiliating her, calling her undesirable, but Bee continued to keep her head up while he did it. As he let the words sink in, he stepped closer to her. With the binders in their hands, they were nearly touching.

Bee let her eyes wander down to the binders, how they were just barely brushing against each other. He was so close to her, and yet so far. There were binders between them, but there was a kiss at the bottom of this page. She hoped that they stopped them before they reached them, and at the same time, she hoped that the director let them keep going.

“I am asking you to give me back the dance card that belongs to me,” Bee said, her voice low and quivering. “And if I have to continue to ask you, then soon it won’t be asking.”

A smirk wrote itself into Dieter’s face. “Will it be begging then?”

“No!” Bee gasped, taking a step away from him.

“Hm, that’s not as interesting as what I was hoping for then,” Dieter said. “I suppose you can’t always get what you want, though.”

“I want my dance card,” Bee said. “Give it to me, now.”

“Will you ask me nicely?” he asked, closing the distance between them once again. “Will you?”

“No, give me my dance card,” she insisted, and he took another step toward her.

Four more lines and the kiss, she thought. They should stop us any second. Any moment now.

“Can I propose that we make a trade for it instead?” Dieter asked.

He closed his binder after the question, and Bee glanced down at the lines, trying to quickly cement the remaining line of her character in case she needed to do the same. Her heart was thundering, screaming in her chest. Her face was flushed, likely as red as it had ever been.

“I propose,” Dieter continued, taking another step toward her. “That I get something in return for your dance card. A token of the evening of sorts.”

Dieter placed a bronze hand on her script binder and eased it out of her hands before closing it and dropping it to the floor along with his.

Bee froze, actually froze, not just in character. Her lips parted slightly in complete and total shock. They weren’t stopping them. They weren’t going to stop them.

“What’s that?” she choked out, delivering her line as promised.

“A kiss,” he declared, stepping closer to her. Dieter hovered his face before hers, and Bee stared at him in complete and total shock. Seemingly in character, Dieter moved closer, giving Bee’s character time to say no or lean in.

It was in the script, but she didn’t want to do it. She wasn’t ready to close the gap,between them, but no one was yelling out for them to stop. Finally, she took a deep breath in through her mouth, wrapped her arms around his neck, and leaned forward to complete the kiss.

His lips brushed against hers, just a graze, just a minor collision. It was nothing major physically, but spiritually, it felt like two worlds colliding that they had always meant to, even if they would break things in the process. The first distinct feeling that Bee felt was that Dieter Bravo was the man that she was meant for. And the second feeling that came was immense, soul-crushing guilt.

She had to end it. Today, not tomorrow. Even if she didn’t get the part, there was no way that she could continue on in her relationship without sacrificing her morality, too.

Before the director, team, and Claire, it felt like they kissed for an eternity, but Dieter deepened the kiss, melting his mouth into hers. Bee tried her best to reciprocate, to kiss him how he deserved to be kissed. But the truth was, she hadn’t kissed anyone like she loved them in a long time. And never like this.

“Woo!” the director shrieked, and a small applause broke out amongst the people in the room.

Dieter jerked back from her, breaking the slight hold that she had upon his neck, and Bee stepped back too, more than embarrassed that they had gotten lost in their performance.

It was only a performance. We were supposed to do that, she reminded herself.

“How’s that for a compatibility test?” the director noted, making some quick notes on the pad before her.

“Thank you, Bee, thank you, Dieter.”

Bee bent her knees slightly in a small bow of appreciation. She held back the question that threatened to burst from her lips – so now what?

“That concludes your audition,” the director said. “Thank you so much for auditioning with us. I will be in touch with your agent shortly.”

“Thank you,” Bee said with a grin. And when she looked to the side to thank Dieter for acting out their scene together, he was already gone, vanished behind the screen that had been set up for the cast and crew.

****

Bee walked to her car alone, with unintentional tears streaming down her face. The victory of her audition was overshadowed by the crushing realization that today had been a pivotal move in her life. She needed to break up with her partner, she wanted it to be amicable, but she wasn’t sure how it could be.

They were so interconnected, and she had been holding back from him for so long. How was she supposed to say it? Hey honey, I can’t be with you anymore because you’re boring, and I got a Netflix audition?

She wasn’t even certain she got the part. If she didn’t, there was no way that she could afford their lease on her own. She would have to be the one to move, and probably far. Her job would be called into question if it was too far away.

And what about the dogs?

She couldn’t leave her dogs. Lately, she had started to resent them because they represented her attachment to her boyfriend, but she loved them more than most things in life. If she was going to leave him, she was going to take the dogs with her.

“What’s wrong?” someone asked her as she was desperately trying to unlock her car.

Bee looked up, and Dieter Bravo was standing back on the curb, watching her have a full-blown mental breakdown minutes after they had just kissed.

Great, Bee thought. Just who I really wanted to see.

“I just really miss my dogs,” Bee said, spitting out the first thing that came to mind.

Dieter’s face fell. “Oh no, did something happen to them?”

Bee laughed, and more tears fell from her eyes as a result. “No, I just might have to give them up to my ex. It’s fine, though. It’s really not your problem.”

“Oh,” Dieter’s concern didn’t subside, but he looked unsure of how to proceed. “Are you safe?”

“I’m safe,” Bee confirmed. “Just a little sad, is all.”

Dieter looked sort of small, standing there like he was out of his element. Through all of her image hunting and video watching, Bee had never seen him look so unconfident.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to let you know that I think you killed it in your audition, Bee,” Dieter said. “I think you are a really good fit for the part.”

“There’s more to audition still,” Bee said with a shrug. “But thank you.”

Dieter pressed his lips firmly into a line and shook his head. “Don’t be humble. I really think that this role was made for you. I’m going to recommend that they cast you, just so you’re prepared.”

Bee inhaled sharply through her nose. “Wow, thank you, Dieter. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well, it’s not for certain, but I just thought you should know that I think it should be you. Even if you don’t get it, I want you to keep going. I could even text you the projects I’m auditioning for. I really want to work with you sometime,” Dieter said, moving to pull his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Bee fought the urge to sob. The guilt of the upcoming breakup with her partner was clogging up her throat. She wiped the tears from underneath her eyes and pushed forward, reciting her phone number to Dieter with relative ease.

“Got it! I’ll text you, so you have mine,” Dieter said, his eyes alight with something Bee really didn’t understand. “Get home safe, okay? And let me know if you need any help with your dogs. I might be able to pull some strings.”

Tears did fall from her eyes at Dieter’s offer now. “Thank you,” Bee said. “That really means a lot to me, Dieter.”

“It’s really nothing,” Dieter said with a wave of his hand. “Anything for a friend.”

The fangirl within Bee was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Anything for a friend.

The words rotated within her mind over and over again. She didn’t care if it was an insinuation that she might be in the friend zone. She would gladly be friend zoned by Dieter Bravo.

“Thank you,” Bee said again. “I really appreciate you, Dieter.”

Dieter smiled at her and took a couple of steps back, his phone still in hand. He typed on his phone, presumably texting her his name.

“And I appreciate you, Bee. I gotta get back inside. You take care,” he said with a small wave.

Bee waved back and unlocked her car, diving into it as quickly as she could. It wasn’t long before her phone was alight with text messages, though not from Dieter.

[Claire]: WHY IS DIETER TEXTING A CONTACT CALLED BEE WITH A CUTE LITTLE BEE EMOJI RIGHT NOW????

[Unknown Number]: Hey, Bee! It’s Dieter. 🙂

[Claire]: BEE OMG ANSWER ME RN!!!!

Bee felt sick to her stomach. Her thoughts about the upcoming horrible discussion were still lingering, and she was not looking forward to having to break a grown man’s heart. She opened up her conversation with Claire and quickly typed in a response.

[Bee]: He was just being nice to me. Nothing more.

She thought about waiting to text Dieter back until she got home. There were more important things on her mind, and she still felt gross about having kissed him, even though it was technically for work. With the feelings that she had felt being involved, there was no way that she could say that the kiss had just been for work. It had definitely been more than that.

But she didn’t want him to worry that he had the wrong number, and a part of her didn’t want him to forget about her. So, she added him as a contact – just Dieter, with no emoji next to his name.

[Bee]: Hey! I’ve got your number saved now. Thank you for being so kind!

His reply came immediately, but Bee chose to ignore it and start her car instead.

[Dieter]: Hope we get to work together on this project! Fingers crossed.

The drive home was by far the worst drive home she had encountered in the weeks since these feelings had developed. She had dreaded going home for a while, but never like this. Never this bad, never this urgent, and never this determined to end things with him.

Without meaning to, she drove home slowly, avoiding maneuvers that would cut time off of the freeway traffic and the insanity of honking cars and reckless drivers of Los Angeles. She thought about calling her mom and asking for advice, but she was worried that she wouldn’t like what her mom had to offer her.

Instead, she sat with the thumping bass from the radio and tried her best not to think about how badly she wanted out and how complicated it would be, but the thoughts persisted.

She hoped that he let her keep the apartment, and she could dip into her savings a little bit each month to cover the differences in the rent and her salary.

Then, maybe she could haggle with her landlord and claim abandoned woman and wiggleout of the rest of her stupid lease. That would be the best-case scenario, but with how abrupt this was, she doubted it would be the case. The songs on the radio kept being unfortunate, even though they didn’t exactly fit the situation.

“Drivers License” by Olivia Rodrigo made her cry, and so did “Irreplaceable” by Beyonce, which was on the channel she switched to after “Drivers License” – just her luck. As she pulled into her neighborhood, “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran came on, a stupid love song, and she punched the power button to her radio with her knuckle.

He was home when she arrived, his car parked where it usually was, and she felt almost as nervous as she did when she was faced with Dieter Bravo himself. That was saying something.

Bee didn’t remember exiting her car, gathering her belongings, or unlocking the front door. But when she was face to face with her partner, and he already looked displeased, she could tell that she was not going to be catching him off guard. Instead, it was he who clearly had a topic that he wanted to discuss with her.

“Welcome home,” he said bitterly, without welcome at all.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, setting her stuff down on the table that she usually did. “You seem upset.”

“I am upset,” he said with a shrug. He was standing near the couch, not sitting on it.

Almost as if the dogs getting up to alert him of her car pulling up was enough to rouse him from his throne and start a fight.

“Okay, would you like to talk about it?” Bee asked. She wasn’t in the mood to hear his complaints, especially since she knew that she wasn’t going to do anything to remedy them. Still, she nervously recounted anything that she might have done to upset him.

She had left that morning without giving him a kiss, which was generally a faux pas. She had been distant, cold, unloving, and secretive. She had been hiding much of this career journey from him and also skipping out on work.

“You’re sneaking around,” he accused. “I know you’ve been going on dates at night.”

Bee laughed, but she didn’t mean to. She caught herself after the first breath of laughter escaped from her mouth.

“I have been going to my friend Claire’s for audition help. There’s nothing more to it,” Bee said.

The kiss with Dieter, on the other hand…something more to that…

“I don’t believe you,” her partner said. He obviously had made his own mind up on the subject, and he wasn’t about to hear any other version of the history that had occurred.

Bee shrugged, suddenly feeling a little less sad about having to break up with him. “That’s fine. You don’t trust me, and I probably don’t deserve your trust because I have been secretive. But I have not been sleeping around in the evenings. I’ve been working to become an actress.”

“I don’t believe you about the Netflix audition, either,” he said. There was no emotion in his voice, no anger. Just cruelty. “I did at first, and that’s why I celebrated with you, but there’s just no way that you at 30 got an audition with Netflix as your first audition in L.A.”

Bee was left speechless. She had so many options before her for how to respond, but she was frozen and unsure which card to play.

“I said, ‘I don’t believe you,’” he repeated, his nose curling into a sneer.

“Well, I just knocked that audition out of the park,” she snapped. “I did really good, so good that they asked me to do a compatibility test with the male lead.”

Her partner’s eyes lit up with rage. “Oh, so you have been cheating on me.”

“Sure,” Bee said, letting her anger get the best of her. “If you count kissing Dieter Bravo in a screen test for a job cheating on you.”

He was sort of right, but she wasn’t about to let him have any victory while he was calling her incompetent. This was far different than the flirtatious argument that her character had with Dieter in the scene where they were acting out a disagreement together. There was nothing sexy about being demeaned by her partner of many years, nothing fun and flirty about her abilities being doubted in real life.

“Hm,” her partner didn’t have a true response. “So making out with your celebrity crush on your day off is the new normal, then? That’s what I have to expect with this Hollywood business? And I’m supposed to just be okay with that?”

“No,” Bee said firmly. “You don’t have to be okay with that.”

“Good, I think you should quit while you’re ahead,” he said bitterly.

Jealousy, that’s what it was. He hated that she was getting somewhere with what she wanted to do, and he was stuck with his pathetic business that hadn’t exploded into success like he had promised her that it would.

“I want to leave you,” Bee said. There was no malice in her voice, no anger, just pure unadulterated truth. “I’ve wanted to leave you for so long. Do you know why?”

“I have no clue why you’ve become a completely different person,” her partner said with a laugh. “So, no. I don’t know why you would want to leave me, just like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“You never knew who I was because you didn’t care,” Bee spat. “You just wanted a pretty face to sit next to you on the couch every night after she made you dinner. God forbid I want something more in my life. You know, if you had been supportive of me from the start, this would all be so different?”

“You weren’t honest with me from the start,” he argued. “You decided to go to a workshop the night before, and now suddenly, you’re signing deals with Netflix?”

“I’m not signing a deal with Netflix. I had an audition,” Bee clarified.

“Well, if you did so well, then why don’t you have the part already?”

Bee laughed as the tears started to roll down her cheeks. “You don’t get it. You didn’t want to be there for me for anything else, and I knew you wouldn’t be there for this. So, honestly, I didn’t feel like you deserved to know about my successes because you want the opposite for me.”

“Wow,” he said. “You really think that lowly of me?”

“Yup,” Bee said with a shrug. “You haven’t proved me wrong yet. Look at you today. I walk in, and there is no question of how my audition went and only a stupid accusation with absolutely nothing to back it up. You want me to quit so badly, and I’ve just started.”

Between them, the dogs start to get restless and antsy with the arguing. The smaller of the two, Marshmallow, starts to yap at Bee’s feet for attention.

“So you really want out?” her partner asked. “Like actually out?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. Her throat closing from the tears, it sounds more of a choked-out response than a confident statement like she had wanted it to be.

“Okay, pack your things then,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll go see a movie or something, but when I come back, I want you gone.”

Bee’s heart fell into her stomach. She knew it was a possible outcome, but it wasn’t the plan. He had more money than her, and he could more easily afford to move. She had more belongings– and the dogs. What would she do about the dogs?

“I want Fudgy,” he said quickly, calling dibs on the larger of the two dogs. “You can take Marshmallow.”

“They’re a bonded pair,” Bee insisted. “They have to stay together.”

He shrugged. “Then take them both. I don’t care.”

“Good,” Bee spat, taken aback by the heartlessness he now displayed. As if anyone could ever break up their dogs, they snuggled together every day of their lives for most of the day. They were just babies. They didn’t deserve to be punished.

She didn’t fight him on the fact that she was expected to move out, not now. Otherwise, he might change his mind about the dogs. Her car was in her own name. Worst case scenario, she could live out of her car for a little bit. The money in her savings account needed to stay to help her get a new apartment, so she couldn’t really afford a hotel for too long.

Bee knelt down to pet Marshmallow, who insisted on barking down by her feet. Her now ex-partner walked past her and yanked his keys off of the nail where they hung.

“Bye,” he said callously, and then he was gone. And for the last time, Bee had the apartment to herself.

She had a sedan to fill with her belongings and nothing more. More, she had no one that could help her. The only people she was really friends with were her coworkers, and she didn’t want to involve Disney people in this.

Then there was Claire, who was at the Netflix audition. And Dieter, who had offered but probably didn’t actually mean it. A movie wasn’t going to take that long, so she had maybe three hours at the most. She wasn’t afraid that he was going to kick her out – her name was on the lease – but she was afraid that he would damage her belongings out of spite if she didn’t get them out in time.

So, she headed to the bedroom to gather her essentials. Her nice clothes, sentimental dresses, and her box of sentimental keepsakes were a must-grab. The dog bed and their food and toys were second in her pile to take with her.

She was crying, sobbing as she packed up her things, picking things to stay and things to go as she sifted through years of shared spaces.

During her hunt through the bathroom for her things, she got a call from Claire, which she answered after a bit of hesitation.

“Hello,” she said, trying her best not to sound like she had been crying her eyes out for the past hour.

“Uh, Bee?” Claire said through the phone. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Bee admitted. She collapsed down onto the floor of the bathroom with a small thud. “I just ended things with my boyfriend. It’s done, and I’m moving out right now.”

“Oh my god, girl, do you need help?” Claire asked. “I’m stuck here for a bit, but I could come over right away. Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know,” Bee cried. “I was thinking of at a hotel at first and then just finding a new apartment, but I don’t know if I can even really afford one right now, and it’s just a mess. He was so mean.”

“Okay,” Claire said. “Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. Pack up your stuff for now, and then bring it to my condo. You can stay with me.”

“I got the dogs, though,” Bee said. “He’s letting me keep the dogs.”

“That’s really good,” Claire said. “I’m so glad you get to keep the dogs. Bring them with you. If I get out of here early, I will come to you and fill my car up with stuff too.”

“Please,” Bee said. “If you could, I would so appreciate that.”

Bee hated asking people for help, but this had been so poorly planned that she needed it.

When she had left her boyfriend before this one, she had been in an even worse position and had jumped into her relationship to solve the issue. She wouldn’t do that this time. The next man she dated was going to treat her like an equal, or she would never seal the deal.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise you. I’m so glad I called to check on you,” Claire said. “I just had a feeling something was off.”

“You’re Superwoman,” Bee laughed. “You should really go become a psychic. It might be your calling.”

“Hey, don’t say that. I got a good role in this show!” Claire laughed. “But seriously, I will be there if I can. Text me the address.”

“Okay, thanks, Claire.”

“Of course, love you, girl,” Claire said before ending the call.

Bee sighed and quickly texted Claire the address to the apartment. If Claire could come and help with a load of her belongings, that would definitely expedite this process and allow her to keep more.

She started a new pile of belongings for stuff that Claire might be able to take, and she didn’t totally want to get rid of it. In this pile, items like books and other life pleasures that weren’t necessities were placed. She could always buy more books, but she liked her books. The same went for the artwork in the home that she purchased.

After another hour, Claire texted her and let her know that she was on her way. It was perfect timing because it gave them 30 minutes to an hour to get out of the apartment before he came back. The dogs were anxious. They were pacing and barking randomly while Bee whizzed through the home, trying to pack her life into tidy boxes.

Claire knocked on the door in record time and quickly started funneling packed storage bins and boxes out to her car as soon as she could. As she sprung into action, Bee cried at the kindness of her new friend.

“You’re a hero,” Bee said as Claire lifted a heavy box of books and made for her car.

“I’m here for you,” Claire said very seriously. “You’re a rockstar.”

“No, I’m an actress, remember?” Bee joked, lifting a box of her own. She had since crated the dogs, so they were no longer circling around their feet and threatening to go outside.

The apartment was looking sparse, and the two women made quick work of the rest of Bee’s belongings. Some things she left because they had been co-purchased or brought up too many memories of the past, but others she took slightly out of spite.

Before too long, they were on the road, with the dogs packed up in the car and on their way to Claire’s neighborhood, where her upscale condo was.

The drive was difficult, and Bee cried for most of it. The makeup she had worn this morning was all smeared off of her face now. There weren’t even streaks of black mascara on her face anymore. Even those markings had been sobbed away.

She followed Claire up her street and parked right behind her in the driveway. Upon their arrival, Claire went straight to her and enveloped her in a tight hug.

“Today was such a good day,” she said. “Even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, I promise you that today was an amazing day. You made huge moves today in your life, Bee.”

“Thanks,” Bee sniffled.

“Don’t thank me, thank yourself,” Claire insisted, squeezing her tighter.

“Is your condo dog-friendly?” Bee asked through her tears. “Are you sure about this, Claire?”

Claire laughed and released her. “Yes, I’m sure about this. Why would I invite you here if not? I could’ve just lied and told you that a hotel was a great idea and totally not a big waste of your money when you have a friend with extra space.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever you say, I’ll try my best not to be a burden to you.”

“I believe you,” Claire joked, and she clicked the button on her keys to open the back of her car. “Let’s get this stuff inside before someone takes your precious belongings.”

“Okay,” Bee said. “Can we get the dogs in first?”

“Of course!” Claire said excitedly. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Well, there’s two, so it’s double what you wished for,” Bee said.

They unloaded Bee’s belongings into Claire’s condo faster than they had loaded up the items from the apartment. The boxes towered in an empty walk-in closet in the guest room where Bee would be staying.

“I’m going to get a place ASAP,” Bee promised as they finished up. “I will start looking for apartments tomorrow, I swear. I have money saved.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bee,” Claire said sincerely. “I don’t care about you staying with me. If you like it here, I’m totally open to having a roommate. We can work something out.”

Bee thought it over. Living with her closest acting friend, with her potential costar, if she got this Netflix role…it would be so fun.

“Maybe,” Bee said. “I just don’t want to rush into anything.”

“We can take it slow,” Claire joked. “What do you want to eat? It’s getting close to dinner.”

Bee took a seat on the couch in the living room. “I’m up for anything, but I’m not really hungry.”

“No way, we need to get some food in you after all of that moving. I can Doordash something. What sounds good…Mexican, pizza, Chinese, McDonald's?” Claire listed off the options.

“Whatever you want,” Bee said. “Seriously, pick for you. I might not eat.”

“Okay, well, we’re eating Mexican then,” Claire said, clicking away for her order, and then she passed her phone over to Bee, who ordered an order of carne asada fries.

The TV was turned on at some point, but Bee was feeling a little out of it. She was tired, warm, and snuggled up with her two dogs on Claire’s couch. Her eyes began to flutter as she started to fall asleep.

****

“Hey, Dieter is texting me asking me if you’re okay?” Claire said, nudging Bee with her foot.

Bee sat up slightly. It was dark out now, and the room smelled strongly of delicious Mexican food. When she looked at Claire, she was sitting in her pajamas with an order of rolled tacos sat in her lap and Marshmallow draped across her calves.

“I don’t know why he’d be asking that,” Bee said sleepily, stretching out and taking in her surroundings.

“He’s probably texted you, and you’ve like accidentally ghosted him. I’m just going to say you’ve been napping on my couch, and you’ve had a tough day,” Claire shrugged and began to type away on her phone at lightning speed. “He’s so interested in you it’s hilarious.”

“Why is it hilarious?” Bee asked, a little offended that Claire would think that to be funny.

“Because you’ve been so interested in him for so long. It’s funny like fate just pushing you guys together.”

Bee sat up fully and pulled the thin blanket Claire had placed on her over her body.

“You’re so funny. I just broke up with my boyfriend literally today, Claire.”

“And you might have gotten your first major role,” Claire pointed out. “Starring opposite him, so…definitely fate.”

“I don’t even know if I believe in fate,” Bee said bitterly.

If fate were real, why did it take her so long to meet Dieter? Why did she have to waste so much time on two horrible guys before finding someone that she really wanted?

“Well, belief or no belief, she’s still looking out for you. Fate is making it work,” Claire shrugged. “Oh, my god.”

“What’s ‘Oh my god’?” Bee asked, her eyes widening. She had no more capacity for surprises in her for the day.

“It’s Dieter. He says he wants to come over and see you,” Claire said, shifting a little bit to shoo Marshmallow off of her legs. “Since we’re ‘hanging out,’ he says he has news….”

For Bee, the world stopped turning a little bit. That same feeling she had felt while kissing Dieter started to rise within her chest. It felt almost like she was having a heart attack.

Her chest burned. There was no way she had gotten the part. There’s no way she would find out this quickly. Or maybe he had different news? But what else would they have to talk about?

Bee felt around desperately, trying to find her phone in the cushy couch, blankets, and pillows.

“I put it on the charger,” Claire announced. “It’s up on the counter.”

“Thank you,” Bee squeaked, darting straight for it. She picked up her phone, and sure enough, there was a missed message there from Dieter.

[Dieter]: I still stand by it. The best audition of the day. How’s your afternoon going?

She had missed it in all of the chaos of having to move out of her apartment with her dogs. But Dieter Bravo was texting her like he wanted to get to know her more and following up with her friend to make sure she was okay.

She hadn’t felt this giddy about a boy since the sixth grade. Or maybe when she was obsessively reading fanfiction about Dieter Bravo, but she wasn’t sure if that counted. Her hands were shaking as she typed out a response to his text message. A late reply was better than no reply.

[Bee]: Sorry! Long day, I crashed on Claire’s couch unexpectedly. I’m glad to hear it, though.😀 How was yours?

“Are you texting him now?” Claire called out from the couch. “He’s texting me asking if he can come over, Bee?!”

Bee turned around and looked at her, the words finally sinking in all the way. Wait…

Dieter Bravo wanted to drive to Claire’s house to see her?

“I don’t know, should he?” Bee asked. She genuinely didn’t know. Was that a good idea? “Are you cool with that?”

“I mean, you did just break up with your boyfriend today, but remember what I said about fate….” Claire trailed off, meaning that the decision was then up to Bee.

“Um, sure,” Bee said. “But I have to like freshen up and put makeup on and stuff.”

Claire shook her head. “Don’t. He knows he’s coming over last minute. Don’t try too hard. Just let him see you in your natural habitat.”

Bee laughed and went to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. “I don’t know. Is my natural habitat dehydrated from crying for four hours straight?”

“It might be,” Claire said. “You did do that today.”

Bee stuck her tongue out at her. “Okay, but today was a special occasion.”

“Plus, he's already seen you cry today,’ Claire shrugged. “He told me just now.”

Bee put a hand on her chest in fake horror. “Oh my goodness, Dieter, such a gossip.”

“Well, I said you cried first,” Claire pointed out. “He was just agreeing with me that it sucks that you’re having a bad day after killing your audition.”

“It does suck,” Bee agreed. “So, is he coming over?”

Claire nodded excitedly. “And he’s only ten minutes away.”

Bee felt like she was going to throw up. “Okay.”

She sold that singular word with all of the confidence that she could muster and then added, “I have to pee.”

Really, she just wanted to take a look in the mirror and give herself a pep talk before he arrived. First, Dieter Bravo cared enough about her to follow up. Second, he wanted to see her in person??? And third, he lived only ten minutes away from Claire, and by extension her, since this was now her home base for the time being.

When she entered the bathroom and flicked on the lights, she was surprised to see clear skin and a refreshed look underneath her eyes. Crying so much had apparently hydrated her skin.

There were a couple of stray flecks of mascara that she wiped away with a small square of toilet paper, but otherwise, she thought that she looked okay.

She was wearing workout leggings and a crewneck, but there weren’t any clothes that were easily accessible for her to change into anyway. As tempted as she was to dig through her boxes and find something else, she knew she would only end up stressed out and sweaty before he arrived.

As she washed her hands, she glanced down at her phone to check the time. Just five minutes remained, so she headed back out to the living room to sit with Claire and her dogs.

“Have you had Dieter Bravo at your house before?” Bee asked her. “You look so calm.”

“No, not Dieter,” Claire shrugged. “But I’ve had A-listers over plenty of times. And we talked a lot today, so he’s cool.”

“Are there like protocols for this? Any wine we should offer?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “You know I’m a good hostess. He’ll be fine. He’s just coming to talk, not to eat a gourmet meal.”

“Your cooking is gourmet,” Bee agreed, remembering the delicious dinner Claire had prepped her when she visited the first time. “Maybe I should just move in here. It’ll be like having a personal chef.”

“I agree! Cooking for one is so boring. Please do!” Claire said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Her voice rising made Marshmallow anxious, and he jumped off the couch to start pacing around the room.

“Oh, Mallow,” Bee said, taking a seat on the floor to pet and comfort him. “Everything is going to be okay, Baby Mallow.”

“It’s going to be more than okay, Baby Mallow!” Claire cheered from her seat. “Mama’s got a brand new career and great new friends!”

Bee laughed. “You’re so right.”

Claire fell immediately silent and then let out a little squeal. “You should get ready to open the door, Bee.”

“Why?” Bee asked, horrified that Claire was going to make her answer the door for Dieter. “It’s your house. You should answer it.”

Claire shrugged. “Payment for my hospitality. He just said he’s here.”

“That’s so unfair,” Bee said, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly that she felt like she could barely hear.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs got Marshmallow and Fudgy barking, and Bee took a deep breath to steady herself before the knock on the door came.

She stepped forward, her right hand out to unlock the latch and her left hand prepared to unlock the door. When she twisted the handle, Dieter Bravo was standing on the landing, still dressed in his clothes from earlier.

His hair was a little messier from the day's activities, but he was otherwise just as gorgeous.

When he realized it was Bee who opened the door, he grinned and said, “Congrats, costar.”

Chapter 10| Series Masterlist

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x oc #Dieter and Bee Universe

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yoon-kooks · 2 years

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how many | jjk | 0

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you're just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you're also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you've taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 3.2k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: hello! this is going to feel more like a series of drabbles with an overarching plot rather than a traditional series. also please note that only certain chapters will contain smut (ill mark the ones that do). this particular chapter has no smut

Art class isn’t supposed to be scary, but that doesn’t stop you from taking the furthest possible seat from where all the chatty people are getting acquainted before the new semester officially begins. Maybe you fucked up. Maybe you should’ve picked a seat closer to all those extroverts, and maybe you would’ve naturally fallen into their circle. Or not. You wouldn’t blame them.

You decide you’re fine right where you are. It gives you the space you need to ensure no one else sees the internal chaos reflected in the whites of your eyes whenever it comes to social interactions. You’re the opposite of a social butterfly, and it’s at times like this when you wonder how the fuck some like you has such a huge social media following—503,448 followers to be exact. It’s not your personality (you’re too much of an introvert for anyone to really get to know you). It’s not your face (you haven’t posted a single photo of yourself on your account). So it has to be your art.

And although you’re a lover of all different art forms, your true love lies with ink on skin. It’s a bit unexpected for someone like you, a soft girl with not a single drop of ink on her own arms. But regardless of your unassuming appearance and quiet nature, you’ve won over countless people who proudly wear your art on their skin. That’s the business you built for yourself from nothing more than a passion you’d always kept close to your heart.

So maybe you should stop worrying so much about making good first impressions. Your art will break the ice for you.

“Is this seat open?” A finger with a fine crown etched into it points at the spot across from you. Your eyes follow a long sleeve of eyeballs, text, and rock ’n’ roll up to a handsome face with too many piercings to count. He fits the description of someone you’d only heard rumors about but never saw in the flesh. Tatts and piercings? Check. Man bun? Check. Hot as fuck?

You take a quick glance at the boy as a whole. Some of his features are surprisingly soft. His eyes are enormous, his nose is adorable, and his lips are the prettiest pink you’ve ever seen—1775 C in Pantone if you had to guess. He even smells nice. Fuck. Definitely hot as fuck but also lowkey cute.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say while trying to get your heart rate under control. He nods and pulls his earbuds out as he takes a seat. He uses his phone screen to check his reflection, making more of an effort to rub a speck of who-knows-what off his lip than to make small talk with you. This person is someone who clearly doesn’t give a fuck where he sits, and it’s sad that you’re envious of that.

“Hey, nice tatts, bro,” another guy calls out as he passes by your new neighbor.

“Thanks,” he calls back. It isn’t long before he’s back to his phone. You wonder if he’s too absorbed in his own reflection to hear the girls talking about him at the other table.

“I told you we should’ve sat over there.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“That’s Jeon Jungkook, isn’t it?”

Aha. Jeon Jungkook. That name rings a bell. You whip out your phone and search him up. It only takes a few seconds to find that his Instagram @ArtOfKooking has quite a following too. You scroll through his most recent posts but find none of this “art” that he speaks of in his handle aside from what’s visible on his arm. Imagine having 100k followers just for being an attractive human.

Your mindless scrolling comes to an abrupt stop at a black and white photo from a few months back. He weaves his fingers through his long locks with a killer gaze. You take back what you said about the lack of art on his page. It turns out the boy himself is a work of art and he knows it.

You suddenly remember why you’d avoided searching Jungkook up when your friend Seokjin first mentioned him to you a while back. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to a pretty face with excellent taste in body art—a deadly combination and one of your biggest weaknesses. But it’s already too late. Your thumb double-taps the photo to trigger the little heart animation.

Wait.

You study his profile again and identify a bigger problem than your tiny crush on a boy who’s probably going to get you into a lot of trouble. Jungkook follows your tattoo account, which means he’s going to get a big fat notification that you liked his photo from months ago, which means you must’ve been scrolling through his posts for some time, which means you’re clearly intrigued by him, which means you’re actually fucked.

Thank god your professor finally starts the class. You need some sort of distraction from the first-world problem you currently find yourself in with the fine specimen sitting across from you.

“Let’s start with an exercise with the person sitting across from you.” You already hate this professor. “To get better acquainted with your classmates, I want you to draw whatever your partner requests in your own style. The request can be as specific or vague as you want. Oh, and no dick pics or boobs, please. I was told to keep the first day as clean as possible.”

With the assignment underway, you and Jungkook both pull out your sketchbooks. Yours looks practically new despite being halfway filled. His looks like a dinosaur stepped on it with more than a few pages falling out. Without saying a word, he slides his sketchbook over to you, inviting you to snoop around inside his world and waiting for an invitation of his own. Your sketchbook is too heavy to slide across the table, so he watches patiently as you push your sketchbook to him inch by inch until he picks it up with a silent chuckle. Great, he already thinks your weird.

The physical state of his sketchbook is deceptively sloppy. There are probably more torn-out pages than actual drawings, but you have to admit you like what you find. His style is a tad chaotic yet somehow in good taste. You can easily picture these designs somewhere on his body, and perhaps they already are.

Your favorite detail is that everything is in ink.

“You’re incredible,” he says, flipping through your pages. “You’re like those YouTubers who draw soda bottles and shit as if it's sitting on the page in real life. You know what I mean?”

“Thanks,” you nod. The compliment is oddly specific and not exactly your niche or platform, but you do get what he means. You have a knack for replicating what you see. If you were to copy a barcode line by line, it’d probably fool the scanner. That’s the level of precision in your work.

“Ah, I got it.” He twirls his pen around. “Can you draw my arm drawing whatever you want me to draw?”

“Sure.” Of course Jeon Jungkook wants you to draw him. Sounds on-brand for someone who is quite possibly in love with himself. But maybe you can use that trait of his to your advantage. “I want you to draw your next tattoo.”

You see his eyes shift from your art to your face. He studies you for a moment. If you had to guess, he probably doesn’t believe someone like you is actually interested in his tattoos. After all, most tattoo enthusiasts are identified by the ink they proudly wear on their sleeves. Meanwhile, your version of a sleeve is cozy, knitted, oversized, and void of any ink.

“What if I drew one for you instead?” He places the pen down on the blank page in front of him and stretches his arms up toward the ceiling. The upper section of his sleeve peeks out from his black tee. It's even more intense than his forearm. “I’m kind of over the thrill of injecting ink into my veins.”

“Oh…” That’s most definitely not the response you were expecting. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed that someone with a lot of tattoos wouldn’t mind one more. How dare you make such a bold assumption. You'll never open your mouth again.

“I’d much rather taint someone else,” he hums. His tone is light but his eyes are dark as they pierce the air between you and him. You’d really like to see him try.

“Art can be tainted by people, but people can’t be tainted by art,” you respond. As introverted as you are, you gain a sense of comfort to speak your mind when it comes to an art form that has defined your life thus far. “Unless they have a tattoo of their ex. Then I guess they’re kind of fucked.”

“Truer words have never been spoken. I knew I liked you.” Oh. His nose crinkles and his laugh is much softer than expected. He picks up his pen and starts drawing heavy smooth lines. “I was just fucking with you, by the way. You can never have too many tattoos, right?”

You nod as if you also have a full sleeve of eyeballs and rock ’n’ roll. That’s when you notice he’s drawing in your sketchbook as if what’s yours is his. Whether intentional or not on his end, you don’t really want to swap back.

“I don’t think the professor intended for us to draw in each other’s sketchbook,” you point out as you follow his lead and start marking up the next blank page in the Jurassic artifact. You outline the positions of Jungkook’s arm, your sketchbook, and the top of his sketchbook from your perspective.

“I like it better this way,” he says. His lines are starting to come together, but you still have no idea what it’s supposed to be. You just have to trust the process. “It’ll give me something to remember you by.”

“You make it sound like I’m going to be dead by sunrise.” You try not to look at the smile that forms on his face when you say that. Instead, you focus on the details in his tattoos and transfer them onto your page. Some of the tattoos match the style found in his sketchbook, and it’s not a coincidence. “How many of your tattoos are your own design?”

Jungkook puts a pause on his drawing to examine his arm and run some calculations in his head. His answer isn’t a number. “I lost track, but maybe you can count them for me.”

He gives you a better look at all the art on his arm. He’s practically asking for your attention, and a part of you hates that you’re so quick to give it. Your innocent soul diligently counts all of the ones you assume to be in Jungkook’s style. You count around five. But then it hits you. You don’t know how many other tattoos are beneath his clothes and where they might be hiding.

“How many others are hidden?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Let me know when you’ve found them all.”

It takes you a minute to wrap your innocent head around what he’s implying. You imagine he might have one on his ribs—that’s the most attractive spot you’ve come across as a tattoo artist. But in what scenario are you going to find a shirtless Jeon Jungkook in front of you? Clients strip down for you all the time in the name of art, but it’s not like Jungkook is aware of your inking business. So the only way you’d ever thoroughly explore his bare body is if—

Your mouth forms a tiny O, but no words come out. In fact, you find it pretty hard to do anything at the moment, so you just watch as the boy continues on with his mysterious design. He definitely knows what he’s drawing, and yet you can’t seem to crack the code.

“You’re fun to tease, Y/N,” Jungkook says, nonchalantly flipping your sketchbook back to the inside cover to make sure he got your name right. Of course you’re That Girl with your name written in fancy font on your fucking sketchbook. And of course he’s going to tease you about every quirky thing you do. “I really hope you aren’t dead by sunrise.”

“Unlikely.” You realize you’ve regained your ability to function properly and point to his work in progress. “But if I am, promise me you’ll get that tattooed on your forehead where everyone can see it.”

“It’s a promise.” He plays along with your dry humor before getting back to work with a cute smile. Wholesome smiles always seem to hit different when they’re coming from the people you least expect.

At some point, Jungkook waits for you to finish drawing his arm so that the two of you can complete his design at the same time. He claims his design is only a few strokes away from the big reveal, but you’re still not seeing it.

As class comes to a close, your page is filled with a beautiful arm, two sketchbooks, and a design that’s apparently “only a few strokes away.” Jungkook takes you line by line until you see it. Very clearly, in fact. It’s a bunny with a tiny carrot tattoo, and it’s been staring you in the face the entire time. The boy drew it upside-down from his perspective so that it’d be right-side up for you. You’re thoroughly impressed.

“Is this tattoo for you or for me?” you ask. While the bunny might definitely be on-brand with Jungkook’s art style, it’s not quite as edgy as his other tattoos.

“Does it get your stamp of approval?” He closes your sketchbook and hands it back to you.

“Of course it does.” You try not to smile too much at the fact that Jungkook’s adorable design is forever inked into your sketchbook. “I love it,” you say as quietly as possible.

“Then it's all yours.” He whips out a black marker and gestures for your hand. You give it to him without question. The hand that holds yours is rough (in that he should probably invest in some higher quality lotion) and gentle (in that you never want him to let go). The subtle caresses engulfing your hand distract you from the marker gliding across your skin. Twenty seconds later, you have a simplified version of the bunny on the back of your hand.

You flail your hand about and blow on it in hopes that the ink will dry before it can smug. “If you ever get your license, this is the one I want,” you say.

“Sounds like a plan.” He takes one last look at your completed drawing and tucks it away safely into his bag. For someone with such a beaten-up sketchbook, you expected him to be a bit more careless with his belongings. But maybe he’s a little different from what you thought you knew about him.

In fact, it’s thanks to this boy that your first day in art class went as well as it did. You made him laugh, and he made you smile. Like everything just felt right between you and him.

You feel like you’re forgetting something though.

“Hey, by the way, do you have an IG for your art that I can follow?” Jungkook pulls out his phone because why wouldn’t you have an account to showcase all of your art? You blink at him because here’s your next mistake: Your only Instagram account @snowsleeve is the one for your tattoo business, the one where your identity is more or less kept out of the spotlight. And you never thought to make a separate account with all of your non-tattoo art under your real name.

“I actually don’t… but it’d probably be beneficial for me to make one.” You’re embarrassed that this is your reality. You’ve utilized social media to build a strong reputation for your business, and yet you totally failed to get your real name out there in the art community. Because perhaps someday, you won’t want to be known solely for your tattoos.

“Well, make one and add me,” he says. “I’ll be your first follower.”

“What’s your account?” Of course you’ve already tracked him down at @ArtOfKooking with your subpar sleuthing skills, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s @jjkINK.” He pulls the account up for you to view. All of the art missing from his other account can be found here, and his face is nowhere in sight. Maybe having multiple accounts is more common than you thought.

“Wow, 30,000 followers? I didn’t know I was in the presence of an influencer,” you gasp and make it extra dramatic. After all, 30,000 is a big following for someone who isn’t a celebrity or well-known figure.

“I’m not an influencer.” He laughs and waves off your dramatic performance. “I’m just someone who shares his art with others. It’s really not that impressive, you know.”

“Well I’m impressed,” you say. And you mean it. You find it interesting how he doesn’t just dump all of his art into his @ArtOfKooking account with over three times as many followers. You imagine it’d be pretty tempting to do that for the sake of more exposure.

Once you’ve set up an alternate account under your real name with @Y/NsArtCorner, you hit the follow button on Jungkook’s art page and leave it at that. A few seconds later, you get a follow back from @ArtOfKooking.

“Oh, that’s my main account,” he explains. “I don’t post any art on that one, so you don’t really have to follow—”

You hit the follow button on that account too. “104,343 followers... Are you sure you aren’t an influencer?”

“I haven’t influenced anyone to do anything, for your information.” You feel like there should’ve been a hmph at the end of his sentence. He points to the bunny on your hand and says, “Well, except for you getting that rad tattoo.”

“Hey, don’t go thinking your bad boy self is a bad influence on me,” you say, holding your wrist close to your heart. “I’m totally not against the encouragement of getting something permanent branded into your skin.” You play it off as sarcasm, but that’s how you make bank.

“Would you really get one?” His eyes lock onto your body, identifying it as the perfect blank canvas for whatever he’s imagining.

“How do you know I don’t already have one?” You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms, still careful not to smudge the precious ink on your hand.

Jungkook tilts his head and squints as if he’s trying to see through the knitted holes of your slouchy sweater. As far as he can see, you don’t have any. But maybe that’s the point. Any tattoo you may or may not have would have to be hidden somewhere on your bare skin beneath your sweater, your lingerie, and most importantly, your soft smile. And the thought of that puts a curious little gleam in the boy’s eyes.

“Wait, how many do you have…?” He needs answers.

You throw your bag over your shoulder and shrug on the way out of the classroom. “Let me know when you’ve found them all.”

#bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts bad boy au #jungkook tattoo #jungkook #bts

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader headcanon #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut

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taeminyourmind · 3 years

Text

In the Morning Sun x Taemin (M)

🌣 Synopsis: In the golden rays of the morning's rising sun, you and your husband, Taemin, share an intimate morning together.

🌣 Genre: Smut

🌣 Pairing: Taemin x Reader

🌣 Word Count: 1.6k+

The early morning sun seeps through the openings of the blinds, painting the walls with stripes of a soft golden hue. The growing light gently wakes you. Squeezing your eyes tighter, you begin to stretch; reaching your arms to the side, careful not to hit your husband beside you. As you sleepily blink away the fog surrounding your head, an arm snakes its way around your waist and pulls you into a wall of warmth. That familiar warmth that’s protected you and comforted you over the years brings a smile to your face as you immediately lean into it.

“Good morning, Taemin,” you whisper. Your fingers trace shapes along his arm as you turn your head to face your husband whose tousled hair slightly covers his eyes as he gives you a soft smile.

“It’s always a good morning with you,” he smiles, pausing for a moment to raise his eyebrows, “And I’m sure you had a good night.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, making him chuckle. “You were dreaming last night.”

A moment passes before you understand what Taemin has been hinting at. The thought of you mumbling or making quiet moans in your sleep as he watched on in amusement makes your cheeks grow warm. You cover your eyes with your hands and shake your head.

“Tell me,” he whispers, his voice deep and low. He brings himself closer to your body until his breath tickles your ear, “Did you dream about me?” He removes your hands from your face, guiding your chin up slightly. “I’ve been curious about your dream since dawn.”

The hypnotic look of hunger in his eyes captures you in a trance. The gentle stroke of his fingertips up and down your thigh causes you to shiver as you close your eyes, trying to remember the remnants of your dream; it's a blur, but what you can’t see clearly, you can feel.

“I don’t remember it all,” you whisper, “But it was just the two of us at the same hotel we stayed at on our honeymoon. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. I can feel us making love, the way we hurriedly took each other’s clothes off, the way your lips moved across my skin, the -” a gasp stops you short as Taemin’s lips begin to tenderly kiss the sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. You swallow and feel your heart begin to beat faster. “The way our hands touched each other in all the right places.”

Your body shudders and your breath hitches as you feel Taemin guide your legs open. The anticipation of his sweet caresses makes your bite down gently on your lower lip. His fingertips slowly brush up your inner thigh until he reaches your pool of wetness. He smiles to himself as he watches your lips slightly part at the feeling of his fingers dipping into your wetness and slowly moving up and down your slit. A soft moan pushes past your lips when he slowly traces circles on your sensitive clit. The sensation makes your legs open more as you reach down and hold onto his wrist.

“Go on,” he urges. The thought of your bodies coming together intimately causes him to groan as he feels his cock harden. He manages to lift his hips to pull his pajama pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. His hand wraps tightly around his member, pumping it slowly.

“Then we...we made love,” you breathlessly say.

Your back arches off the bed when Taemin’s ring and middle fingers slowly enter you, your wetness allowing them to glide in with ease. Your walls immediately grip around them as he curls them slightly and begins to slowly pump them in and out. The look of pleasure on your face makes Taemin groan as he pumps himself in sync with his fingers. His heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest when he imagines his cock snug between your warm, wet walls and the sounds of pure ecstasy falling off your lips.

Soon, imagination doesn’t give him any pleasure as he removes his fingers from your warmth and carefully places himself between your legs. The sudden absence of his fingers makes your eyes open immediately. Your eyes lock with Taemin’s, and as if guided by his mind, you open your legs wider, inviting him in. He bites his bottom lip, his gaze never leaving yours as he rubs his tip up and down your slick slit before gently pushing himself past your entrance. Your moans harmonize when he begins to slowly rock his hips into you. The softness of your name drips from Taemin’s lips as he reaches down and pulls down the straps of your nightgown. He alternates between fondling your soft breasts and pinching your hardened nipples.

Your head begins to feel light as waves of pleasure repeatedly wash over you. Reaching up, your hands gently hold the sides of his face and guide it towards yours until your foreheads softly press together. You exchange a smile with Taemin as your thumb pads gently brush his cheekbones.

“I love you,” you both say. The timing makes you both chuckle before you wrap your legs around his waist and whisper for him to go deeper, to which he obliges.

Full of passion, you press your lips against his, deepening the kiss as his hands hold onto your hips. Your fingers gently tug at his hair causing him to groan against your lips. He moves his head to fall beside yours as he gently lowers his chest atop of yours, your hearts beating together. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and hold onto him tighter as your legs squeeze around his waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in your ear between quiet moans.

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by a long, low moan when Taemin rocks deeper into you and repeatedly hits your spot. You feel his smile against your skin when he takes your earlobe between his lips and gently nibbles on it. Your head tilts back slightly as your hand cradles the back of his head, bringing him closer to your skin.

Using his strength, he carefully rolls over until you’re on top of him. You lean up and place your hand on both sides of his chest before slowly bouncing on his cock. The gentle, sensual pleasure causes you to tilt your head back and let quiet moans invade the room’s silence. But a sudden knock makes you swallow your moans as you avert your attention towards your bedroom’s door.

“Mommy? Daddy?” A small voice calls out from the other side.

“Shit,” you whisper before clearing your throat and projecting your voice. “Yes, honey?”

“Can we have waffles for breakfast?!”

You open your mouth to speak before being cut off by Taemin’s whisper, “I guess we have to speed things up.” You cock your head to the side before a sudden overwhelming feeling of pleasure takes control of your body. The quick pace of Taemin rubbing your clit makes you clasp a hand over your mouth to keep a loud moan at bay as an eruption builds in your core. Taemin’s free hand holds you steady as your body begins to tremble.

“Sure. Go wake your brother and we’ll meet you downstairs,” Taemin replies. He gives you a mischievous smirk as he quickens the pace of his thumb. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to will yourself to wait a little longer before coming undone.

“Okay, daddy!”

The sound of small footsteps hurrying away cues you to surrender to the wave of pleasure crashing into you. Quickly lifting yourself from Taemin, your orgasm squirts all over his cock as you let out a choked whimper of his name. Reaching up, he brings your chest to his and holds you close as he guides his cock back into you. He gently cradles the back of your head and firmly places a hand on the middle of your back as he thrust upwards at a quick pace. A string of whimpers falls off his lips as you whisper words of affection in his ear. You encourage him to go faster and beg for him to release his seed into you. With a final thrust, he lets out a deep groan as he releases his seed inside of you, coating your walls while his hips buck with each spurt.

For a moment, you lay still in Taemin’s arms. The room is filled with heavy breaths as you place a series of kisses along his collarbone. You raise your head and gently brush the strands of hair stuck to his forehead away from his face. It’s in little moments like this when you find yourself getting lost in his beauty; the way the warm sun casts a golden hue over him, the way his plump pinkish lips purse into a slight pout, and the way his eyes gaze adoringly into yours, their color enhanced by the sun’s rays.

While you admired him, Taemin finds himself reminded of the natural beauty you possess as he reaches up to brush the strands of your hair behind your ear and pulls the straps of your nightgown back on your shoulders. The sun gives you an angelic aura that makes him tell you how blessed he is that you’re his.

His sweet words make you smile. Leaning forward, you wiggle your nose lovingly against his which causes your hair to fall and tickle his cheeks.

“We’d better go before the boys break down our door,” you joke.

“Maybe, one day, we’ll have another little one,” Taemin places a gentle hand on your stomach. His touch gives you butterflies as you place a gentle hand over his and give him a hopeful smile.

“C’mon,” you slowly remove yourself from Taemin’s body with his help and wrap a robe around your body, “I’ll make the waffles if you wash the sheets.”

Taemin rolls off the bed and pulls up his pants. He shoots you a playful smile and winks, “Deal.”

#taemin smut #kpop smut #taemin scenarios #kpop scenarios #shinee smut #shinee scenarios #kpop fanfic #taemin fanfic #kpop fanfiction #taemin fanfiction #taemin imagines #kpop imagines #taemin scenario #kpop scenario

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part One. George: the definition of “hello, have you met my friend?”

warnings: none word count: 1568 (not including pictures) *** Bugsy is Y/n’s username! I got too attached to change it to y/u/n so change it in your mind if you’d like :)

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Y/n sighed lightly as she set her phone on the desk in front of her. Her eyes traveled back to her monitor, where George was sharing his screen on Discord as he practiced speedruns. Y/n and Sapnap were on call with him to keep him company.

The cold air around her nipped at her skin, sending chills and bringing goosebumps. She pulled her hoodie closer to her body, tucking her feet on her chair to curl herself in a ball.

"This run sucks," George mumbled. "I thought it was going to be good."

"It would have if the village actually had anything useful," Sapnap commented. "There was a lava pool at spawn and everything."

"What do you think, Bugsy? Should I start over?"

She hummed, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, you should."

He left and started a new run.

"Karl's replies on Twitter are always so funny," Sapnap giggled after a few moments of silence. "He's so formal."

"I love that kid. That's my best friend right there, no cap," Y/n said with a smile. She and Karl had been friends for a few years now. They met through their parents being friends and shortly found out the other streamed and quickly bonded over that as their fanbases grew.

"Did you see Wilbur's response to your tweet?" Sapnap asked. "Man wrote you a letter."

"What did the tweets say?" George asked, half-listening as he focused on his run.

Sapnap read them and George laughed through his nose. "How could you ask for a Minecraft boyfriend while you're literally on a call with us while I'm playing Minecraft?"

"Just keeping my options open," Y/n laughed. "Don't worry, I'm wearing a GeorgeNotFound hoodie as we speak."

"I'd be worried, George. There are quite a few proposals in the responses."

"Shut up," Y/n muttered, a smile on her face that she was glad neither of them could see. "George, you remember my roommate is in love with you, right? Don't upset her by being jealous of boys coming after me."

"You're an idiot," George breathed out in a laugh. "No, she's not."

"She is. Very much."

"No, no, she isn't."

"George," Sapnap sighed dramatically. "Just accept that you can be loved."

"You're both idiots, okay?" George laughed awkwardly. "This seed is terrible," he groaned.

"Wait!" Sapnap yelled. "Village on the left!"

George quickly turned and ran towards the village to loot it. Y/n watched with Sapnap as George found iron and a few other valuable things.

"Oh! This might be okay."

"Bugsy?" Sapnap asked slowly, sounding confused.

"Sapnap?" she replied in the same tone.

"Have you not met Quackity?"

"No. What made you ask?"

"I just saw his response to your tweet."

"Why are you two on your phones? I'm speedrunning!"

"Because you still haven't made it to the nether on any of them," Sapnap bit. "How are you best friends with Karl and you haven't you met Quackity?"

"I dunno. I just haven't. There's a lot of people I have only spoken to through Twitter replies."

"Like who?" George asked.

"Why are we only talking about me?" Y/n asked in slight frustration. She wasn't fond of talking about herself because she wasn't used to it. "This is George's stream."

"Well, now I'm really curious so I wanna talk about this," George laughed. "Who haven't you met?"

"I dunno!" she said, flustered. "Quackity, Wilbur, Dream, Tubbo, Tomm-- wait, no I met Tommy. He yelled at me."

"Wait, wait, what?" Sapnap interrupted.

Y/n paused but neither of them said anything. "What?"

"You haven't met Dream?" George asked, sounding equally as confused.

No one said anything. "No? Why is that surprising. I mean, we've joked through tweets and stuff but I've never played with him or actually spoken to him."

"What about DMs and stuff?" George asked.

"Nope. Dream is just thirsty in my replies like Wilbur," she joked, feeling the anxiety of the awkward pauses seep through her skin and touch her bones. Why were they being so weird about it? "Why is that so shocking that a man with, like, 15 million subscribers has never spoken to me?"

Sapnap laughed. "I'm just genuinely surprised that he hasn't reached out to you before."

"Yeah, me too," George agreed. "He talks about you in a way I thought you guys were good friends. And you're friends with us so I just assumed you were friends with him too."

Y/n laughed, nervous at the mention of being talked about. "Well, he must be a pussy or something because I have yet to receive any acknowledgement from Dream Was Taken besides him occasionally replying to my tweets and Instagram pictures."

George laughed suddenly, making Y/n look at the monitor with George's screen quickly, which wasn't moving. "What happened? Did you find something?"

"No," George's screen began moving again and he started building a portal. "Dream just texted me because he's watching the stream."

"What did he say?" Sapnap asked.

"He said, 'can I join the call? I don't want Bugsy to think I'm a pussy'," George answered, lowering his voice to a mumble before adding, "And something else he'd probably kill me if I said out loud."

Sapnap and George laughed at Y/n's silence. She was only joking, not intending to challenge him to talk to her. Honestly, she was relieved he had never spoken to her because he intimidated her. Meeting people made her nervous and Dream was no different. If anything, he was worse because he was a big deal and he kinda flirted with her sometimes, which gave her butterflies in a way she didn't like.

"I'm adding him to call," George announced.

"Wait, you're not going to check if I'm okay with meeting him live in front of 80,000 people?" Y/n asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"No, because it's my stream. I can do what I want. I can't live another second knowing you two have never talked."

"I think Bugsy's scared!" Sapnap coeed.

"I think so too!"

"You wish," Y/n muttered.

A small sound emitted from Discord, notifying everyone that someone joined the voice chat.

"Hello Dreeaamm..." George dragged out as he navigated the nether. "I made it to the nether, Sapnap. Will you get off your phone now?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hi Dream!"

"Hello," Dream said casually. "Hello, Bugsy."

Y/n lowered in her chair more, pulling her hood up and closing it tight over her eyes. No one could see her but his voice made her feel seen.

Sapnap giggled and George laughed. Dream breathed out a laugh. Y/n responded with a small, "Hi."

"Bugsy, you're such a liar!" Sapnap called out. "You are so scared."

"Shut up, Sapnap!" she chuckled.

"Scared of what?" Dream asked innocently.

"Meeting you," George answered. Traitor.

"Forgive me," Y/n started, sitting up in her seat and pulling open her hood to watch George play, "for being nervous to meet Mr. Speedrun in front of a huge live audience." She decided to joke around to hopefully ease the nervousness under her skin. "I'm just worried he's going to flirt with me again and I'll have to embarrass him in front of everyone by rejecting him again."

They all laughed.

"I mean, you already said Karl was in the lead for being your Minecraft boyfriend, so I really have no shot," Dream said.

"As if I'm letting some girl named Bugsy steal my fiance!" Sapnap yelled.

"Ah!" The attention was ripped away from Y/n as George screamed. Y/n looked at the screen, watching as her friend was getting attacked by a hoard of zombie pigmen.

"Why did you hit one, George?" she teased.

"I didn't mean to! AHH!!" he screeched, making everyone laugh. "STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"George!" Dream laughed. "Just run, you won't be able to kill them all!"

"I'm trying!" George fell in lava and screamed again. His death appeared on the screen and Y/n could hear him slam his desk. "That run was so good until the zombie pig came out of nowhere."

He started a new run and it was quiet for a moment before Dream's soft voice spoke again. "Well, Bugsy. I hope you forgive me for taking so long to speak to you."

"I-I was just kidding about you being a pussy," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"No, it's true. I was."

"Come on, Dream, sliding in my DMs is easy," she joked. "You could have if you wanted to."

"Trust us," George laughed, "he wanted to."

"What?" Dream asked George loudly, making Sapnap laugh.

"Dream, you talk about her all the time. George and I were both led to believe you were already friends based on how you talk about her."

"How I talk about her? What does that mean?" Dream sounded defensive and it made Y/n smile.

"You're always like, 'Bugsy did this' and 'Bugsy tweeted that', and 'I have to do a face reveal before Bugsy does because she'll outshine me'," Sapnap teased.

"Okay, the last one? I never said that. You're lying about that."

"But the rest of it is true?" Y/n teased.

"Look, you play good and your tweets are funny! I didn't come on here to get bullied, oh my gosh."

**********

A/N: this is my first time attempting a social media fic so the theme of this series is gonna be ignore the number of likes/retweets and stuff just know that y/n is a much smaller streamer she only gets a lot of likes and stuff when it involves other mcyt ya know okay fun times

Please give feedback!! I hope you enjoy it!!! I don’t have a schedule right now but I might in the future if this series gets a lot of attention :) as of right now i’ll try to update at least once a week!

#real person fiction #rpf #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x y/n #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #dream social media fic

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hyunjilicious · 3 years

Text

the set up [chris evans]

A/n: this is the reworked version of an older fic that I wrote!!! I loved the vibe so I didn’t want to allow it to get lost in the void!!

Summary: Some mutual friends decide you and Chris would make a cute couple and decide to set you two up!! (SMUT) 6.4k

Warmings: smut, unprotected sex and they also just met so I strongly advise you to not follow their example, oral (both), brief mentions of spanking, hair pulling and dirty talk. It’s chill y’all.

This is a standalone fic, and not part of any series!

“If this girl-”

“She’s great!” Scott cut Chris off harshly, already above tired of his brother’s endless flow of nasty comments.

“I feel uncomfortable doing this!” Chris protested again from the passenger’s seat, shifting around, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “At least tell me what she’s like!”

“Gorgeous” Scott belted, nodding his head to accentuate his point, “Smart as fuck so you better control yourself” he said so sternly, not even a drop of sarcasm escaping his lips, “She’s also into old music so you can talk to her about that? Kind of-”

“So then- God this is still weird” Chris sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, not used to the idea of being set up with a girl. Maybe he wouldn’t be as terrified and nervous if all his friends hadn’t been constantly going off about how great you were, because considering their history, Chris was sure there was something horrible Scott forgot to mention.

“God what the- oh no!” you managed to exclaim as your feet ran laps around your bedroom, “How the fuck do you forget to mention he’s Chris Evans?”

“Calm down” Anne sighed burying her face into the scattered pillows around your bed, “Seriously, that doesn’t change anything, we’re all meeting in a pub, I promise you, it will be fine” she added, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Like I’m not awkward enough around idiots...” you complained again, walking to your friend to zip up your short dark blue dress. “I got this” you said as you felt the material tighten around your body, giving you a well-deserved boost in confidence.

Seated at the round table, you were so absorbed by the conversation that was being held that you failed to realize the two tall boys that approached your booth. Chris’s presence made something inside of you shift; and it wasn’t only the tingly sensation in your stomach at the sight of him, you also felt your walls build up, blocking all the confidence you ever had.

“Hi, (Y/n), right?” he greeted you, extending his arm.

With a shy smile on your lips, you stood up to shake his hand. As if your already existent butterflies didn’t exhaust you enough, his liquid touch managed to send shivers in waves, propagating across your whole body, reaching places you didn’t know could buzz like that. Chris sat down next to you, and after every time you told him something, you mentally scolded yourself for not participating more; for letting the shy side of you take control tonight.

“OK guys, next round, what would you like?” Dan, a friend of yours, raised his voice in order to get your attention as a waiter made his way to your table again.

“Vodka rocks please” you said when it came your turn, and your cheeks couldn’t help but burst into flames when Chris’s head snapped in your direction. That’s what you always had, your always go-to and everyone knew it, but to him it was new, and it certainly didn’t fit the appearance you put on.

The first part of the night flew by smoothly, at least in your opinion. If before Chris arrived you were leaning over the table trying to make a point to one of your friends, now you barely managed to gather enough courage to express your point of view in a completely trivial discussion. Maybe it was the alcohol you had ingested but you were pretty sure Chris’s eyes lingered on your bare shoulders or your lips as you talked, more than once and more than just for a second. All these thoughts, that maybe he found you attractive, maybe he cared what you had to say, everything that roamed through your head made you even more self-conscious, afraid your next action or words would let him down.

“Everybody up, I love this song” Anne commanded jumping to her feet. When you shook your head and explained that you’d rather sit through the first few songs she was quick to object. “Come on!”

“I swear, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” you promised your friend, but you were sure that what made her let you have your way was the fact that her favorite song was approaching its end and she was wasting her time at the table.

After everyone stood up and moved to the dance floor, you realized Chris hadn’t; he was on his phone, making the situation even more awkward than it had to be. You took another long sip of your drink, looking around the carefully decorated rustic pub you were in, before finally turning to him, and taping his forearm.

“Don’t you wanna dance?” you asked

“Yeah I do-” he muttered looking back and forth between you and the screen of his phone, “Just a second”

You tucked your hands under your legs, shamelessly studying his side profile. You could tell his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and the moment one of his hands traveled up to scratch the bridge of his nose, you unconsciously tilted your head to get a better view.

“Aren’t you going?” he chuckled after realizing you’ve been staring, pulling you out of your thoughts; everything about his attitude making your insides turn in embarrassment.

“I was wait- No, I’ll go-” you mumbled, preparing to stand up before his hand flew to your knee to stop you.

“No, actually don’t go, just a second” Chris said, still concentrated on his phone, apparently trying to get rid of the distraction as soon as possible. Your eyes worked their way up from his long fingers that were pressed flush against your skin, to his silver watch, further up his forearm, studying the thick veins that were protruding through his skin, to the halfway rolled up sleeve of the black shirt that wrapped itself so perfectly around his frame. You nodded when he told you to wait for him, but he had already turned his head and now you wondered if you seemed off, but before you managed to over analyze everything, he let go of your leg and tucked his phone in his back pocket.

“I’m so sorry about that” he said leaving his seat and turning, “After you”

You happily followed his actions, stepping beside him, as he placed his hand on your back, bringing you closer as you made your way to your group. After joining the small circle your friends created, you distanced yourself from Chris a little in order to have more room to dance, even if all you were actually doing was swaying and waving your hands around your body. Chris turned out to be as inexperienced as you were, his moves basically consisting of shifting his weight from one leg to the other to the beat of the unfamiliar song that was playing. The atmosphere changed soon enough, as “I got my mind set on you” started echoing through the speakers, bringing a well awaited smile on your lips. As the first lyric repeated itself a few times, you filled yourself with all the good energy of the song, your feet elegantly dancing, as if they had a mind of their own.

“Hey” you heard Chris call softly moments before he grabbed your hand to turn you around. You welcomed him with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, careful to keep a decent amount of space between your bodies.

“Whole lotta spendin’ money” you mouthed the words, as his own hands sneaked behind you to pull you closer.

“You like George Harrison?” Chris asked smugly, remembering what Brian said about your love for old music.

“Isn’t he everyone’s favorite beatle?” you answered, extracting yourself from his hold and doing a childish pirouette before coming back against his chest.

“George Harrison is no one’s favorite Beatle” Chris retorted confused.

“That’s Ringo” you corrected him, “But I have no idea what everyone has against him”

With a shrug of his shoulders signaling his lack of an answer, he sighed heavily, his hot breath reaching your lips, before he spoke again, “Then who’s your favorite?”

“Who do you think?” you played, tilting your head to the side.

“McCartney?” Chris asked hopeful, biting his lower lip as he waited for your answer.

“Nah, Lennon” you chuckled, “Actually no- I don’t even know, I’m not even that big of a Beatles fan”. Your honest answer was as unexpected as it could be and judging by the smirk that made its way across Chris’s lips, you knew he appreciated the way you played it. “Do you like them?”

“They’re alright I guess-” Chris trailed off feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. You smiled kindly taking a step back in order to give him privacy, just in case he needed it. However, you didn’t get to distance yourself too much before he wrapped one of his arms around you from behind, and settled his chin on your shoulder. You were taken aback by his gesture, as from this position you could easily see everything displayed on his screen, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m really sorry about this but I wouldn’t answer if I didn't absolutely have to,” Chris explained as his thumb worked its way around the screen. His hot breath hit the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, and you just turned your head, pressing your forehead against his temple; the fire between your legs not allowing you to stay still anymore.

You felt his cheeks gather up a smile under your touch, and you remained like that for a few more seconds as he finished typing. Once he was done, Chris locked his phone and secured his arm around you, turning his head slowly to meet your gaze. You welcomed him with a smile of your own, but in contrast with the sweetness that was plastered on his features, yours held a more fervid kind of feeling. He was the one to close the distance, his strong hold around your frame tightening as his mouth pressed softly against yours. You felt delight bubble inside you under the careful weight of his touch, and you soon felt his tongue trace slowly along your bottom lip, begging. Doing your best not to break the kiss, you turned around in his hold and planted yourself against his chest, this time not waiting for him anymore, diving in directly, going after what was yours. Soon, one of his hands traveled up your spine to grab the back of your head, his actions growing more and more rapturous with every single grunt that escaped his throat.

Judging by the fact that three hours later your dance moves were just as elegant as they were before, you decided to grab one last drink before making your way home. With your arms folded and elbows rested on the bar, you were waiting for an employer to notice you when you felt Chris’s hands on your waist as he placed a quick peck on your cheek before plopping down on the stool to your left. He spread his knees wide apart and pulled you between his legs.

“Vodka, rocks” he said before gesturing with his hand to the waiter to bring two drinks, “How long would you have waited?” he asked, turning his attention back to you. Sarcasm was dripping off his lips, as his lazy eyes didn’t miss any detail of your features.

“It wasn’t my turn yet” you protested

“You know it doesn’t work like that, don’t you?”

“I think it does”

A tight-lipped grin appeared on his features helping his cheekbones stick out ever more under the warm, dim lights of the bar. His boyish charm may have been amplified by the way his chest hair peaked through the open buttons of his shirt, and you were all for it. You pressed your lips to his and he didn’t wait a second to reciprocate your actions, the kiss feeling as natural as if you had known each other for ages.

“Copying me?” you giggled after the bartender brought your drinks, interrupting the two of you.

“Inspired? I’m inspired!” Chris chuckled before taking a sip.

“Drunk, that’s what you are,” you answered, mocking his state, a state you weren’t far from either.

“Nah” he countered, “I’m just feeling good!”. Belting the words he threw his head back, confirming your assumption, and also giving you perfect access to the skin of his neck, which you didn’t hesitate to attack with rough kisses and soft bites. His attitude changed in an instant, becoming a weak mess under you, “Oh god, (Y/n)” you heard him moan into your ear as you worked your magic along his jugular.

Realization hit you suddenly, and remembering you were still in a public place you detached yourself from Chris and grabbed his hand to pull him back to your group.

“Are you seriously doing me like that?” Chris complained following you, fingers intertwined.

“Sorry, I got carried away”

Your night out didn’t last much longer after that, as the tension between you and Chris reached the point where none of you was willing to deny it anymore. After saying your goodbyes, you headed out through the front door and made your way to the main street in search of a cab. Despite having gathered up the courage to go to his place, the whole car ride was perfectly silent as your head quietly rested on his shoulder.

Once inside the apartment, his lips found yours faster than he had found his keys less than 5 seconds before. With your back pressed against the door while Chris sucked mercilessly on the skin of your neck, you managed to get a quick glimpse of the city lights poking through his huge window, setting an even more intoxicating atmosphere than before. You lost yourself under his touch, feeling his hot body wrapped around yours as his hands roamed shamelessly over the thin material of your dress.

Sighing, you pushed him off of you, “Bedroom” you whispered and after giving you a quick nod, Chris dived back in for a kiss, grabbing your waist and guiding you through his dark home and into his room. You sat down on the bed, as he knelt in front of you on the floor, taking your feet into his lap to undo your sandals.

“God” he muttered annoyed, as the strap refused to come undone. Giggling, you leaned forward to take them off yourself, appreciating the gesture and loving his cuteness. After getting rid of your high heels, you grabbed Chris’s collar as you leaned on your back, pulling him on top of you. This time his hands didn’t hesitate as they found their way to your ass in no time.

“You have no idea what you did to me in that dress” Chris grunted against your lips as his fingers dug roughly into your skin. He traveled down your body, peppering kisses down your chest, before resuming his position on his knees on the floor.

“Spread your legs for me” he commanded and you obliged, crawling to the end of the bed, settling your legs on each side of his frame. His hands caressed your thighs passionately, inching closer to your heat causing your breath to fasten. Chris lifted up your dress, and pushed you to lay on your back.

“Oh god” you whimpered, feeling exposed and completely vulnerable. As you leaned your head to the side and closed your eyes, the feeling of Chris’s wet lips centimeters away from your core caused you to buck your hips in surprise as he started paving his way along your thigh with soft kisses.

“You want this?”

“Please” you begged suggestively

“Look at me” he demanded in a new harsh deep tone that sent shivers down your spine. You raised your head and looked down at Chris, who upon making eye contact, tapped your hips twice. You took the hint and propped your feet on the wooden edge of the bed as he circled his fingers around the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your legs in one swift motion.

After settling back into his position, Chris probed your folds with his thumb, smiling, more to himself, pride most likely pumping through his veins at the sight of his effect on you. He finally leaned down, his mouth volunteering to take his fingers spot, as he teased his way to your clit.

“Chris-!” you hissed at the feeling of his wet tongue working carefully on your bundle of nerves.

“Mmm..mm” he hummed lowly against your sensitive spot, the vibrations of his lips adding to your pleasure, “So fucking sweet”. His voice was hurried, as he lifted his head only for a second in order to look at you. His hands came around your thighs, as he released some of his own tension by vehemently slapping and gripping your skin.

With every lap Chris worked on your clit, a painful need inside of you to spill out profanity after profanity only grew bigger, but you managed to control yourself.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” he asked smugly, and before managing to give a decent answer, you felt one of his fingers enter you slowly.

“I- Uh, god” you cried out, arching your back as your left hand flew down so you could curl your fingers around and pull on the elegant collar of his shirt. Feeling every muscle in your body tense as your hips quivered uncontrollably, you secured Chris in his place by bringing your other hand too into his hair. Realizing how on the edge you were, he added another finger, swirling them against your wall, as his lips maintained the same avid pace around your clit. Impossible to tell how much longer it took, but most likely in a matter of seconds your orgasm came thundering down on you, curling your toes as the muscles of your legs trembled furiously. Chris kept going until you let your body fall flush against his bed, when he came up to your level.

Your eyes were closed, still enjoying the last waves of bliss that traveled along your legs as he teasingly caressed your cheeks with his lips and the tip of his nose.

Coming back to your senses, you gripped his neck, wrapping your legs around his middle, pressing him down against you. His mouth slowly met yours, igniting sparkles in your chest as he tugged on your lower lip before allowing your tongue to meet his’.

After pulling away, Chris straightened up at the edge of the bed and started working on undressing himself. The metal clicking of his belt buckle prompted you to suck in a long breath, smiling to yourself at how this man could make you feel so much, as you were already craving more.

You steadied yourself on your knees and crawled over to Chris, turning your back at him and getting your hair out of the way. He didn’t waste a second before getting back to you and pulling down your zipper of your dress, which allowed his hands to roam freely under the thin material. His fingers softly caressed your sides before sneaking to the front and cupping your breasts as his lips found your neck again. He lowered himself forward, pushing you down on the bed on your stomach and climbed on top of you.

Feeling his lips burn icy tracks along your shoulders, you pushed yourself up, flipping the two of you over. You slipped out of your dress fast and straddled his hips, not caring the slightest bit about being in any way seductive; you already had him. Under you, panting in anticipation, long fingers digging mercilessly into the smooth skin of your thighs.

Your lips were again on his’, working slowly, doing your best to tease him and push his buttons. Your hands traced his sides, making their way up his body,

“Yes, fuck” Chris whined. He had managed to take off his dark shirt before you distracted him, so he was now laying on the bed, half naked with his jeans undone, waiting for you.

You slowly lifted yourself off of him and tugged at his pants, pulling them down with a little bit of help from him.

“Tell me Chris” you teased looking up at him, your face inches away from his erect cock, “You want this?”. Following your question, you licked your lips as they fell into a one sided grin.

Squeezing his eyes shut as his head went from side to side, Chris chuckled bitterly at the taste of his own medicine, “Show me what you can do”

You placed one of your hands at the top of his thigh and lowered yourself even more, maintaining the eye contact as you carefully lifted him up. With your fingers wrapped around his cock, your lips barely brushed his base before you made your way lower.

“Fuck- fuck, (Y/n)” Chris hissed, bucking his hips violently at the way you kept pushing him. He brought his hand to the top of your head, his thumb softly caressing your hair as you worked on his balls.

At an agonizingly slow pace, your hand made its way up his length and when you reached his tip, your fingers continued teasing.

“Fu- take me in your mouth, baby” he tried to demand but under your burning stare, his words came out more as a plea, a struggling moan.

You gave him a false approving nod before you licked your way up his dick, wrapped your puckered lips around his end and sucked harshly a few, short times. When his head flew black as he white knuckled the sheets, you took it as your cue to stop.

“Hey Chris” you whispered as you let his cock fall against his stomach and you climbed on top of him.

A weak chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to smile when he realized the way you were going to play this. You leaned down to his level and slipped two fingers into his mouth before gripping his chin tightly and engulfing his lips in a fervid kiss. After caressing their way up and down your thighs, his hands settled on your ass, gripping tightly as he pushed himself up to meet your core.

You lowered yourself to add to his pleasure, your tongues not parting as you started pressing down on his cock.

“Please?” you teased, your hot breath hitting his damp lips.

“You’re not going there” he stated, his dominant side starting to show as his expression darkened.

“No?” you asked guiding one of your hands between your bodies, against his hard abdomen, wrapping your fingers around his dick. You nodded your head ‘no’ as you pumped him slowly, his squinted eyes prompting a smirk to appear on your lips. You had him; no matter what he said, you could go anywhere you wanted, “No, I’m not”

You guided his tip to your folds, slipping around him without any kind of warning. Straightening your back and supporting your weight by gluing your hands to his stomach, your hips started working in circular motions along his cock. You let your head fall forward before you pushed all your hair to one side, in order to be able to look him in the eyes. His body was responding to your actions, as he kept pushing himself up in sync with your movements.

It didn’t take long before you felt your second orgasm approach, and lost in the moment, you didn’t realize Chris took notice of the choked back whimpers that escaped your throat.

“Hey gorgeous” he grunted, his big hands digging holes into your waist, “As much as I love this-” he tried to speak but ended up concentrating all his energy into picking you up and flipping the both of you over, “-this is what I want right now”. He finished his sentence with a harsh whisper in your year from behind, as you struggled to maintain your balance on your elbows under his weight.

You smiled to yourself feeling his wet, hot chest against your naked back, before he rapidly guided himself inside of you.

“Mmh- Chris-” you moaned feeling his hands roam around your body as he maintained his avid pace.

“Taking me so well, hm?” he hummed in your ear. After caressing your cheek clumsily, Chris trailed his hand on the side of your head, his fingers losing themselves in your hair as he tugged back, forming a makeshift ponytail. The forcefulness of his touch caused you to tilt your head, eyes gluing to the ceiling as he grunted in your ear.

“Hell ugh-” you screamed as your body rocked back and forth under his’.

“Who would’ve thought?” he growled, exploring the skin of your neck with his lips as he kept your head back, “The way you act- so sweet and innocent, but then you down vodkas and take my cock like a good little slut”. Chris’s words were carelessly spilling out of his mouth, the pleasure of each thrust giving him more and more trouble forming coherent sentences, “Fuck, (Y/n)-”.

He let go of your hair in order to steady himself, as his movements became sloppier and angrier by the second, “Sh- Chris!-” you yelled gripping the sheets into your fists to keep yourself up, even though one of his arms was wrapped around your abdomen. “I’m so close, fuck, Chris!” you exclaimed again, letting your head fall against your shoulder.

He moved his hand to grip your ass tightly, before detaching it and then sending it to connect forcefully with your butt cheek again, causing a loud slap to accompany both your moans.

It’s all a blur what happened after that; his fingers kept digging into your skin hard as he was enjoying his high, the loud profanities he screamed sending you over the horizon. You soon went limp in his hold, but he didn’t pull out until he placed a loving kiss between your shoulder blades. Your whole body was trembling, from your lower lip to the tip of your toes, but the way he was still inside you as his lips carefully treated your skin, still managed to electrify your mind.

After that your night didn’t last much longer. A fragile amount of comfortable small talk emerged as you both settled under the covers but your mind was somewhere else. You had a lot of fun with him and your heart ached when you thought that this was a only one night stand after all. With your gaze getting lost in the darkness of his room, you found yourself fighting the urge to snuggle into him. As much as you wanted it, as bad of an idea you thought it was. Chris was laying on his stomach with his head in your direction, as you rested on your back. Honestly, you hoped he’d make the first move and pull you closer but he didn’t so you pushed your thoughts away. Or at least you tried. After saying your 'good night’s, much to your surprise, Chris’s hand found yours under the covers as he started to lazily play with your fingers. You smiled to yourself a little even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Your palm was against the sheets as he softly rubbed your thumb with his own. This didn’t help, all it managed to do was make you want to cuddle into his side even more, to rest your head in the crook of his neck and to fall asleep listening to his heart beat. Though none of those things happened, you managed to fall asleep on your own, despite the fact that the few inches of space between your bodies was killing you.

Surprisingly, at one point during the night you woke up. This time you were laying on your side, and it took you a couple of seconds to realise what it was that disrupted your sleep. You turned your head slowly to peak over your shoulder, and you physically felt your soul break. Chris was cuddled into your back, his whole body pressed against yours as his face was tucked into the back of your neck. You didn’t mind it, but the simple fact that his arms were gathered around himself and not around you, made it all clear. He was shivering in his sleep as the night breeze made its way in through the window that somehow was left open, and as you apparently had hogged all the covers, his pair of boxers failed to keep him warm.

“Shit” you muttered to yourself, turning around and doing your best to wrap the blanket around him. Your warm hand connected to his freezing shoulder in a pathetic attempt to warm him up, and instinctively, moments later, Chris wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. You didn’t fight him this time, you just helped him cuddle into your chest before you fell back asleep.

Ironically enough, in the morning, you woke up to Chris pulling the blanket higher up your body. You didn’t open your eyes immediately as it took you a moment to come back to reality. Right now, you were facing him but not one inch of your body was touching his. When you finally looked at Chris, he was resting against the headboard, typing away on his phone. You wondered how long he must’ve been awake for but judging by his squinted eyes, you figured that not for too long.

“What time is it?” you finally mumbled

“Shit, I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said. He turned to look at you apologetically, but a smile still made its way to his lips as soon as his eyes landed on your figure, “It’s 10:12”

“Why are you awake?” you asked, not moving a muscle.

“My phone kept ringing, I have no idea how that didn’t wake you up”

You just shrugged your shoulders and crawled a bit closer to him before closing your eyes again.

“You can go back to sleep” he whispered, lowering himself to be at the same level as you.

“No, it’s ok” you protested, bringing your arms over your head to stretch, “I just need a minute”

He settled under the covers mirroring your position. His tired eyes matched his tired smile, and his cheek squished against the pillow made him all the more adorable, “I could make you breakfast, do you want some?”

Your stomach was begging for food, but this wasn’t an offer you expected. The dudes you’ve had hook ups with like this one, usually woke up horny and then that was it.

“Oh, yees, thank you”

“I could make you pancakes, like they do in movies” he offered chuckling in his groggy morning voice.

“Pancakes…” you repeated content, mouth starting to water at the thought.

“You can sleep some more while I make them,” he suggested.

“No” you argued, rolling into your back, “I’m coming with you, the girl makes breakfast in movies”

Chris raised himself up, prompting his weight on his elbow as he hovered over you with a bitter smirk on his lips, “The girl usually leaves before the boy wakes up”

His words stung a bit, “Are you trying to kick me out?”

“God, no!” he exclaimed, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. Finally something. “That’s just what usually happens”. He was weirdly right, that was what you did most of the time too, but apparently not today.

“I guess” you agreed, looking into his big brown eyes. Before allowing the situation to slip into a direction you weren’t too fond of, you stood up on the bed, “Can you give me a shirt, please?”

“Of course” he said in an instant, jumping up from the bed and running to his closet. “This one ok?” he asked, showing you a navy blue one with long sleeves.

“Yeah” you smiled, extending your arm to grab it.

“Or this one?” he suggested again, this time a black t-shirt in his hands.

“Chris, give me the black one” you laughed before he had the opportunity to offer you another one to choose from.

You hurried to pull it over your head as he put on some gray sweatpants, and then you both left for the kitchen.

“Is this the bathroom?” you asked, pointing to a door right next to the one just came from.

“Yeah, but no” he laughed grabbing your shoulders and turning you in a different direction, “Go to that one” he gestured towards another door on the opposite side of the hallway, “This one is messy”

You wanted to protest for a second, as you were curious and maybe you wanted to snoop a little, but eventually nodded and went where he told you.

“Do you have Nutella or some kind of chocolate?” you asked, eyeing the pancakes.

“Um, no..” he mumbled, “But I can go grab some”

“What? No!”

“It’s just around the corner, I’ll be back in like 5 minutes”

“I was just asking” you giggled, grabbing his wrist, pulling him towards the table.

“It would take me-”

“Chris, no” you laughed, this time your tone was more serious.

He eventually caved, and you sat down to eat. The conversation picked up instantly and not for one second did it feel forced or uncomfortable. The awkwardness of getting too close to him disappeared immediately, as when you were halfway done, he pulled you into his lap, to demonstrate how a proper pancake should be eaten. Maple syrup and strawberry jam got everywhere but it wasn’t like any of you cared. Unlike last night, his lips were now sweet, kinda sticky even but it was perfect.

“So, like, last night you came with Anne, right? How do you know her?” he asked as he struggled to pour some more syrup on his pancakes with his left hand, as his right arm was locked around your hips.

“She’s my best friend” you answered smiling, “We actually met at the gym a few years ago”, you paused to shake your head, “God, I hate gyms”

“Why?” he asked curious

“I’m an embarrassment, I’d much rather work out at home”

“Oh god” he laughed dropping his pancake and throwing his head back, “I can make you feel better about that if you want to”

“Sure.. go ahead” you hesitated, afraid of what might come out of his mouth

“So like I was at the gym a few days ago, and there was this lady lifting some weights that, by the way, looked way too heavy for her but who am I to judge. Anyway so as she’s squatting, you know, when she tries to straighten her legs and go back up, this loud fart comes out, and I swear to god it echoed through the whole room-”

“Oh god, no!” you exclaimed, covering your eyes with your palms, “I feel so sorry for her”

“That’s not even the best part” he laughed tapping your tight to get your attention.

“We’re eating Chris, please tell me she didn’t-”

“She didn’t don’t worry” he chuckled, “So like after it comes out, she starts rummaging like crazy through her stuff, pulls out her phone and goes - I’m sorry I didn’t answer faster, it was on vibrate-”

“I’m so embarrassed for her” you whined

“Yeah, like a part of me wanted to reassure her that it’s ok but I’m sure that would’ve made everything worse” he said laughing.

“Definitely”

“And like she left for the locker room but when she came back she was still pretending to be on the phone and headed straight to the door and didn’t look back”

“I can’t” you managed to say between your giggles

“Now I’m so afraid I’ll fart in the middle of the gym” he confessed

With your pancake still in your hand, you felt your eyes start to water, trying to picture him all flustered and embarrassed and you couldn’t help but laugh even louder.

“It’s ok, you won’t” you tried to reassure him, but he was just as amused as you were

“I hope” he sighed

After you were done eating, and then done arguing about Chris not allowing you to help him clean up the mess, it was time for you to leave.

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asked, most likely sure you were going to agree, so probably that’s why his face fell when you declined.

“No, it’s ok, but have you seen my jacket?”

“You didn’t have one”

“Yes, I did, a long maroon one” you explained thinking about where you could’ve left it.

“Trust me, I know what you were wearing last night” he said smirking

“Then I must have left it at the bar, I hope someone saw it and took it”

“Wait, let me give you something to wear” he said, sprinting to his bedroom. You waited patiently for him in the hallway, realizing that this meant you had to see each other again. But you had mutual friends, someone could give it back to him for you, right? This was usually the time you blew the guy off, but this time, something inside of you simply didn’t let you.

“What about this one?” he asks, handing you an army green hoodie.

“It’s perfect, thank you”

“I don’t have your number, and I kinda want it back,” he joked, pointing to the jacket.

“Give me your phone” you laughed, and after he gave it to you, you added the number quickly and handed it back to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you, I feel bad for letting you walk home”

“No, it’s ok, it’s not that far, I’m gonna cut through the park and listen to music, it’s ok” you reassured him, stepping away from the door so he could unlock it.

Once you passed the threshold, you turned around wanting to kiss him one last time, but the moment his hands caught your waist, the teasing side of you awakened, so you just placed a long peck to his cheek.

“Bye” he laughed at your antics, before closing the door after you.

As you were walking home, you wrapped your arms around yourself, causing the smell of his hoodie to reach your nose. You were happy he didn’t give you a clean one, this one smelled like him, and maybe he chose this one on purpose. Your mind drifted back to the events of the last 15 hours and unconsciously, they put a smile on your lips. You had so much fun with Chris, and grew so fond of his sweetness, that you almost felt bad for giving him the number of your 50 year old laundromat lady.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans writing #chris evans blurb #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans one shot

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kimnjss · 3 years

Text

tricky part | knj

⤑ series: plot twist

⤑ pairing: rapper!namjoon x rich girl!reader

⤑ genre: fluff?? (idk, man. i think they’re cute.) ahem, some smut... nd we get a little angsty, of course.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 8.1K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: (mentions of alcohol abuse). slight dirty talk, cursing, fingering, nipple play, handjob, unprotected sex, cumshot, doggy style, light hair pulling, multiple orgasms... i think that’s it.

⤑ chapter song: tonight (i wish i was your boy) - the 1975 (the entire song is namjoon is swear...)

⤑ A/N: hiiii! this is wicked late ., i took a nap today nd it was amazing . let me know what you think !! x

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:09

It takes longer than usual for you to get ready, stuck in the mirror contemplating whether or not what you're wearing is good enough. If maybe you should put your hair up instead of letting it fall freely. Would it be showing too much? But you wanted to show a little, right? This was a date after all, who didn't tease a little on the first date?

But this was Namjoon. Sensible, cautious, easily frazzled Namjoon. Would it turn him off? Or fluster him so he's showing off that cute dimpled smile of us. The one that he let slip when without even noticing it, cheeks flushing pink as he tried to avoid eye contact. Gosh, he was so cute!

Okay! Perfect solution, you're thinking as your eyes find the hair elastic on your dresser. You'd bring the hair tie and feel things out, read the room, and with the first desire to jump his bones, you'd tie your hair up. Giving him a perfect look at your shimmery collarbones, thank you Fenty, and the slope of your neck. No doubt he'd find himself thinking about pressing his lips against your skin at the sight of it.

Boys were simple. All of them. A mere flash of skin and they were putty in your hands. Joon was cute with it, though. So you'd let it slide.

Your phone lights up, humming against your sheets. His name flashes in bold, waking up the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Weird. He must be here, no doubt outside waiting for you right now. He'd think you looked nice, right? Grant you one of his lingering stares that he's always so quick to avert.

That's when you knew you caught his eye. Pride warms your chest each and every time you're catching him. It took a little bit more effort to get Namjoon to turn his head. Yet, he was still a boy at the end of it. He'd end up looking at you one way or another, it's all about how you present it.

Which is exactly why you were yellow. A yellow two-piece that highlights the best parts of you. And you're sure you've made the right decision when you catch the stutter in his step, eyes flickering from your face to your legs then back again. Forcing himself not to look away the entire time you're walking up to him, black platform heels carrying you with ease. Only a few inches below him with them on.

“Hi,” You're saying with a grin, hand reaching out to grasp his bicep. Giving it a little squeeze and watching the way his eyes go wide. He's wearing sweats but still looks so good. As if he's stood in front of you in a three-piece suit, although you might be exaggerating.

He doesn't shake you off but doesn't exactly relax in your touch either. Fingers tapping against his thigh and you can't help but wonder if he's holding himself back from touching you. Lame. “You're wearing yellow,” He says after a moment, stating it as fact rather than something that was intentionally done for him and his attention.

Eyes rolling on a laugh, you're nodding your head. “Yeah. You like yellow,”

“I do,” His nod is curt and his tone is military.

Huffing, while stepping forward, easily pulling him a bit close to you. “Okay, rule number on to this date...” Lifting a single finger for reference. His eyes flicker to it before he's looking back down at you. “You're not allowed to think tonight, got it? No analyzing, calculating. Weighing the options. Just do and talk, get loose.” Giving his shoulder a playful shake, you're shocked to hear the laugh that falls from his lips.

Like an actual, really pretty laugh. “Alright, deal.” A proud smile threatens to split your face when you feel his hand lift, hesitant at first but landing on the small of the back. Albeit, just to guide you, but it's still something. “Let's get going,” He's guiding you with the gentle hand on your back, barely touching you but you're stomach was doing backflips.

How quickly the roles reversed. Hands clasped in front of you, urging yourself to calm down. To stop acting like some thirteen year old who still hasn't had their first kiss. You were twelve years and eighteen kisses past that. Get it together.

“Where's your car?” Stepping on your tiptoes, attempting to peak up the street to spot it. “Actually, what kind of car do you even drive? I've never seen it?” Eyes shifting up toward him, a quizzical look on your face.

You're missing the soft, “I don't...” That falls from his lips because you're brain is working overtime to guess what car he could possibly drive. “Hm, you kinda look like a Chevy guy... maybe a Honda? But, I could be wrong. Definitely not a sports car, though.” You couldn't imagine Joon in one of those loud, low to the ground car.

Whipping through traffic as if where he had to go was much more important than all the other people on the road. Yeah, that didn't fit.

He's taking offense to this for some reason, nose scrunching, and hands finding his hips. His steps even come to a halt. “Hey. Why not a sports car?”

You're letting out a laugh, not at him, of course. Just at how adorable he looks right now. Actually pouting, with his arms crossed in the middle of the sidewalk. You've never seen him like this, not even sure where this new Joon came from. But he might be even cuter than the Joon you knew and had a huge crush on.

Moving toward him, not even bothering to stop yourself from poking his pouted lip. “Come on, that's totally out of character. You're practical and sensible. You wouldn't splurge on a sports car, that's not even durable. Those cars get torn apart in accidents,” He's not really mad, obviously. Which is why it doesn't take long for him to lose the face.

“So which one is it? Honda or Chevy?”

A large arm is dropping around your shoulder, tucking you into his side as the two of you continue your timed steps down the sidewalk. “Neither. I don't have a car. Or my license,” Eyes nearly popping out of your head with his words, stopping in your tracks to get a good look at him. Just in case you might've heard him wrong.

But he shows no signs of correcting himself or clarifying what he had just said. “Wait. So how are we going to get there!?” Did he expect you to walk!? All the way to Daejeon? In these shoes... they were cute, but not the most comfortable. And they didn't need to be because they weren't meant for walking 100 miles at a time!

“We're gonna take the train, of course. How else?” He's not even looking like he knows he's talking nonsense.

Like, honestly. Did he expect you to ride a gross train dressed like this!? What if you got robbed? Or kidnapped? Or worse, thrown up on!? This outfit was irreplaceable, one of a kind. No way could you take it on a train, that wouldn't do. “No. That won't be necessary. I'll just call one of my drivers, they'll come get us,” You've got your phone out before you're even finishing your sentence.

Namjoon is quick to pluck the device from your fingers, a sly smile playing on his features as he tucks it into his pocket. “Let those people spend time with their families. It's Sunday. There won't even be that many people,” Two firm hands placed on your shoulders, he's turning you effortlessly. “The train, it'll be fun.”

“You're the only guy, in the universe that thinks riding the train will be fun.” He's laughing again and it's not cute as it was a few minutes ago. “Oh no, I meant fun for me. You're gonna hate it,”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 17:37

Just as you predicted, the train is gross. And sticky. Crowded and sweaty. Joon holds you close as you weave through the sea of people, fingers laced with yours. Although you know it's purely for survival purposes, the flutter in your heart still rises from feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

You try not to make a huge deal about it. People rode the train every day and considering how many of them were in here, they've all survived. You'd be fine. Especially with this six-foot angel clearing the way for you at every turn.

Joon finds a seat for the both of you against the wall. Close with your thighs pressed together and he still hasn't released your hand from his grasp. It's cozy beside him, warm. Leaning your weight on to him, you try to be subtle but probably fail. He's concentrating on something on his phone and from the quick peak you were able to sneak, you see he's checking on your reservation for tonight.

Stomach flipping at the tiny fact he made a reservation for you two. It's so Namjoon to want to be triple prepared for anything, but the fact that it's in your favor makes you happy. No idea why, but that was the truth of the matter. More often than not happy when you were around him.

Even cramped in this stinky train, his hand in yours was enough to convince you, you were in the back of a limo. The unfocused chatter around you replaced with soft music that you'd play. Probably something he likes to listen to. His taste in music was quickly becoming yours the more time the two of you spent together.

He's dropping your hand for some reason that you don't realize until you're looking up to see him standing. Offering his spot to some brat with a broken leg. What the heck? Were you supposed to hold hands with this kid? Up without a word, didn't even bother to ask if you wanted him to get up.

Joining the other people standing, holding on to the railing and you're quickly deciding you don't like the distance. He watches as you stand to your feet, nose brushing against his chin. “Sit,” Gesturing to your now empty spot, earning a raised brow from him.

“Come on, Yn. Your feet are gonna hurt. Just relax,” He tries to lower you back into your spot, but you're moving to the side with a shake of your head. “I'll be fine. Just sit,” Catching the stubborn glint in your eye, just begging him to argue, he chooses to drop it. Switching spots with you and sinking into the empty spot.

Not even a second after he's settling into the cushion, you're dropping yourself onto his lap. Arm wrapped around his shoulders, legs between his. Bum pressed firmly into his thigh. “Did you really think I was going to stand?” You laugh. He doesn't even look the least bit surprised, eyes rolling – but you catch the smile on the corner of his lips.

His hand finds the outer part of your thigh, holding your body steady as the car jostles. He doesn't move it even after the machine has settled, has even taken to tapping out a rhythm against your skin.

It's nice. Your new favorite song.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:17

You had to hand it to the guy, Kim Namjoon knew how to put a date together. Pure perfection from beginning to end, you're not sure if it's his careful attention to detail or the small possibility that he wanted to impress you... you've decided to go with the latter.

The entirety of dinner was spent talking about everything and nothing. Actually getting to know each other aside from the surface level, 'I make good music and you screen it while balancing your massive crush on me,'. He was telling you about the time he first met Yoongi: second year of high school, Yoongi was a really cool Senior, the type of cool guy that everyone knows, but like doesn't talk to anyone. He found Joon making out with some cheerleader in the band room, her hand down the front of his jeans... and made it all of his business to tease him about it for the rest of the semester.

Never would you have deemed Joonie as the type to take part in such excessive PDA, and although he insists it was not his idea... well, agree to disagree.

You were even telling him about the first time you got blackout drunk, which resulted in you being banned from every last Shake Shack. The only thing you remember from that night was getting in the car to head to the club, already started pre-gaming beforehand. But as Jungkook likes to tell it, you were a melting pot of 'types of' drunks.

Started the night trying to fistfight the bouncer, after only fifteen minutes in the club, which resulted in you... and all of your friends being kicked out. Went from not-so-discreetly trying to mount your boyfriend at the time, Jackson, to crying on the bathroom floor Shake Shack all before you were puking in the booth, after swearing (a million times) that you 'weren't gonna throw up'.

Followed by a screaming match between you and Hoseok as he apologized a thousand times over to the employee he had to call over for the mess, trying to assist her while she tried her best to keep a smile on her face. Jungkook carried you to the car, full-blown had to haul you over his shoulder as you screamed curses at your brother.

You don't remember any of that, though. Next thing you remember from that night after getting in the car to leave, was waking up to the sound of loud video games, hanging half-naked off the side of Jackson's bed.

You're more embarrassed than you though, telling that story out loud. how bad you used to be. That was the worst of it, but the other times weren't too great either. Of course, you've calmed down a bit. Really tried each and every time you were sent away to clean up your act. And you were good for a few months after you came back, and then you were not.

Surprisingly, Joon doesn't look disgusted when you tell him. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. Either he's extremely understanding or he was expecting your most embarrassing story to be something of the sort. You hope for the former but suspect the latter.

In reality, though. Namjoon found himself trying to figure out just what could've been going on in your life that you felt like any of that would help. He now knew with you there was always something hidden, a reason to your behavior that you oftentimes liked to brush off. Must've been bad. You probably had a hard time.

The highlight of the night, though, was hands down the play. You're not even sure if he knew what it was about when he chose it, but you were falling in love from the moment the current went up. Characters so vivid and engaging, dealing with real-life shit all while living in fear of the darkness that looms over their tiny village.

It wasn't hard for you to get totally immersed in the show, laughing along, getting upset, crying. And Joon stays seated by you the entire time, holding on to your hand. Not so sure when he picked it up, but he hasn't let it go in a while. Not that you were complaining. You liked the tiny shocks that followed every brush of his fingers.

He smiles when you laugh, laughs when you get upset, and wipes your tears when you cry. You're so sure, he missed the entire show.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:20

“You know, my best friend's an actor. Kinda a big deal at his agency... I could talk to him?” Joon throws in casually as the two of you make your way out of the theater, talking as he tosses his empty popcorn carton into the garbage. As if he didn't just drop some life-changing news.

You've heard of his friend, Kim Taehyung. Was an extra in his very first big drama role, a historical one where he faced an untimely death. The two of you never crossed paths and shared zero scenes together, but it was still pretty cool. To you. He didn't know you from a hole in the wall and the last thing you'd do was act like anyone's biggest fan.

But, this? What Namjoon was offering... that could be huge. The start that you needed and you wouldn't even have to go through your father. You could do it all on your own... kinda. “Oh! That would be amazing, Joon!? Why didn't...”

As quickly as the excitement hits you, it's being knocked right out of your body. The job that you already have and everything else that surrounded it. No way could you accept this. “Actually,” You're forcing a smile for Namjoon to see, “Let's put a pin in it. I want to focus on the company,” You wonder if it sounds as robotic as it feels.

“Why? You hate that place?” His hand has found yours again, arms swinging slightly as you walk. There's this curious look on his face like you're not making any sense. And you're not.

Why wouldn't you jump on the first chance to ditch that hell hole? The opportunity was right in front of your face, so why wouldn't you take it? You must be an idiot. Stockholm Syndrome? “Can I tell you a secret?” You're whispering despite the fact it's just the two of you on the street.

“Sure,” Gently, he's pulling you just a bit off of the path. Figuring whatever you have to tell him might be something he wants to sit down for, so he's getting comfortable on a bench, tugging you down beside him.

Not once letting go of your hand. “Hoseok is putting out an album in a few months. He's been juggling that and work-work. The time when my dad came down to talk to me... about the whole Hyungwon thing, he said he'd tank the album if I didn't start acting right,” That actually does surprise Joon, eyes going wide as a barely audible gasp leaving his lips.

You can just about guess what he's thinking, 'what kind of father...?'. And the easy answer was, yours. Your type of father would. Your type of father has. “That's why I need to stay focused. I can't screw up, he's been working so hard. I wouldn't be able to live with myself I ruin everything for him. Again.” That was a story for another time.

“Yn. That's fucked up. Does Hobi know?”

Scoffing, your eyes roll automatically. “Of course not and don't tell him. He thinks our dad is the best. 'Strict, but the best'.” Your tone changes slightly to mock his deeper voice. “Thinks he's hard on me only because of how I act and while I know that doesn't help, that wouldn't change anything. We're all just pawns in his game. His stupid Legacy.”

It's weird because you don't even sound sad. Just numb. Like you've accepted that this was how the way things were and this was how they were going to be. He wished there was something he could do, stand up to your dad for you, tell him all the things you're afraid to. But that would be stupid, for him and for you. It wasn't his place and he'd only make it worse. No matter how badly he wanted to just step in, there was really only one thing he could do.

Your hand is much smaller in his, soft and cute. Nails painted a pretty deep blue to compliment the yellow of your dress. Squeezing softly, he's lifting his lips into a smile for you to see. And since he's been trying to take your advice and stop thinking so much, he's lifting your hand. Pressing feather-like kisses against your knuckles.

The gesture so sickeningly-sweet, you're not sure if you should puke or cry. Or both. He's looking up at you, smiling really wide before he's moving closer, lips finding your forehead making you feel warm all over. Butterflies holding a wrestling match in your stomach and you might just burst into tears.

“I can't interfere with your family. Especially when you're not asking me to. Just know, if you ever want to start doing what you really want I'll support it. I'll support you.” You feel the pressure building behind your eyes, the thickness in your throat. All over three stupid words that you had no idea you've been waiting to hear.

It's overwhelming. Desperately fighting back the wetness that teases your waterline. With a hard blink and a huff of air – you're pushing a smile onto your face. Aware of how fake it looks, but it'll have to do as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” You're grinning, hand patting his knee before you're hopping up from your spot beside him on the bench.

A hand extended down to him. “Come on, dessert on me!” You giggle because it feels right. And he takes your hand, allowing you to pull him from to his feet. Tugging him along behind you with your face pointed to the night sky. Not saying anything until you're sure your voice won't break.

And even then it's a quiet mumble, “You've earned something sweet.”

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 21:59

Your hair has gone up. Revealing the slope of your neck and the shimmer on your collarbones. And as you predicted, Joon watches you through the entire process. Lips wrapped around your ice cream cone, holding it in place as your hands move quickly to pull your hair out of your face. His gaze dropping to your mouth as you lick mess the treat his left from your lips.

Hook. Line. And sinker.

“Do you have any weird kinks?” You don't even look at him when you say it, focus on creating a peak on your ice cream cone.

Joon's choking a cough out around his shaved ice, eyes blinking hard as he clears his throat, lifting his gaze up to you. “Excuse me, what!?” An easy laugh falls from your lips, shoulders shrugging slightly. Taking pride in how easily you could fluster. “You know... weird kinks. Things that get you going, but are kinda weird,”

“Like a fetish?” You're shrugging, barely interested in the choice of word. “I'm sure there's a difference, but for the sake of this. Sure,”

He had to have something, there was no way he didn't. Everyone had something and you refused to believe that he was even composed and well thought out in that area. There had to be something that made him lose his cool. Had to be.

“Uhm,” He's clearing his throat, cheeks seeming to grow darker the more time you spent staring at him. “I wouldn't say it's weird, but I like...” His attention falls to his dessert, twirling his spoon around in the frozen shavings. Would you think it was too weird? Consider it a deal-breaker and decide to not talk to him again. You probably wouldn't even care, there wasn't much that you cared about he was finding.

But, you could surprise him. And what if... wait, why was he even stressing about this in the first place!? “Why are you even asking me this?” Such a random topic interrupting your peaceful silence staring at the water.

Again, you lift your shoulders in a shrug. “I'm curious. Here, I'll tell you mine.” You pause to flash a breathtaking grin up at him. “Put your hand up,” Joon doesn't even hesitate to lift his palm, heart stuttering when you're pressing yours against his. As if you're comparing sizes and he can't help but curl his fingers down into the space that's left.

“See that? What you just did? Drives me crazy. And also...” Hand dropping from his to lay flat on his chest and on reflex his muscle is tensing, pecs jumping underneath your touch. It's actually so sexy you contemplate dropping to your knees right then and there. You suppress the urge, but don't make any moves to lifting your hand. “Big hands? And muscles. Phew. Throw in a pair of cute dimples and it's over,”

It's obvious at this point that you're literally referring to him, not intentionally of course. He just happened to check every last one of those boxes. “Why's that?” He's staring at you with these eyes that you've never seen before. Dark and filled with want.

You liked it.

“Makes me feel cute and small, I guess. Like if you... or any guy, but let's just say you, were to use your big hands to pick me up and hold me there while we-” His eyes go wide when he catches on to the end of your sentence, rushing out a frantic, 'Oh okay, I get it!'. Watch as you bursting into a fit of giggles.

He ignores you, taking to peering around the bridge, checking for anyone within earshot that might've heard what you were about to say. Only to find that you two were the only people out here. Unless he was worried about judgmental glares from the birds, you were fine.

“So...” He's starting only after he's done his full scenery check. “You like feeling small, then? That's interesting,” Forever impossible to read, no idea what he meant by interesting, but as always you were running with it.

Steering this night, which had been an amazing date, in a direction that was a little less PG. Brow arched and a smirk playing on your lips, you move into his space. Hand sliding down the front of his body, meeting his waist. Holding a soft grip on the fabric of his sweater, you rise onto your toes, nose just inches from his.

“And? What do you plan to do with this information?” Could swear a small gasp falls from his lips, feeling your free hand tug on the long drawstring of his pants.

There are a million and one thoughts running through his mind right now. Every last one of them revolving around you. How good you look underneath that skirt, how good you smell standing this close to him. The way he could see the faint freckles on your cheeks, faded from your makeup. Yet, through all of his mangled thoughts, there's one that stands out amongst all of them.

You're so beautiful.

And not in the ways that you'd think. Yes, your face fit the standard, and the confidence you carried yourself with was more than deserved, but there was more. Beautiful underneath all of that and he could see it and even with this new stiffness tenting at the front of his jeans, it's all he can focus on.

Soft giggles fill his ears, coming from you realizing the way he was staring at you. Not saying a single word, just looking. “You're stalling. What's yours?” Taking a step back, you allow him a chance to breathe. Just barely noticing the twitch of his arm, ready to pull you close to him again.

“Okay, fine.” Joon's saying with a roll of his eyes, not the annoyed one that you've grown used to. It's playful, cute paired with the smile on his lips. “I like...” Large hand reaches out, landing firmly on your hip, effectively catching you off guard but he doesn't even give you a second to react before he's twisting your back toward him.

A shiver dancing down your spine as the tips of his fingers gently trace the link in the middle of your back. Actually having to bite down on your lip to keep from any noises slipping out in response to his light touch. “That. It looks sexy,”

Now you know how he feels when you tease him. Breathless and flustered all because he touched your back!? Come on, it was about time you got your shit together. Turning in his grasp, your features morph feigning confusion. “You like backs?”

“No! Not just backs. I Mean the dip... and if there's dimples back there. That's always a plus,” He says with a shrug, but you know exactly what he's doing. It was your game, basically invented it.

But judging from the flutter in your chest, he was better at it. “I have dimples back there,” It sounds dumb to your ears, like 'duh, he knows that stupid.. that's why he said it,' but you can't think of anything else to say. Thoughts clouded with how good being touched by him felt and coming up with ways to get more of that.

And he's moving as if he's read your mind, arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling your body to him with this newfound boldness that has a shocked gasp falling from your lips. “I know you do,” His voice is so deep and so sexy, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. You could spend hours just listening to him talk, no doubt. God, you needed to get it together.

“Oh, yeah? You've been sneaking peaks?”

He nods. Like, doesn't even bother to try and hide behind some half-assed explanation why he might've noticed, just owns it. He's so hot. “I'm very observant,” His words have you wondering what else he's noticed about you. How much time did he spend just 'observing', as he liked to call it.

You could figure that out later, there were much more pressing matters at hand right now. Kissing him. Through with the back and forth, you needed to feel his lips against yours. The fragmented memory of the first and only time was quickly fading, you needed something fresh.

With your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, you lean into him. Chin tilted up and eyes slowly falling closed, you're just inches from his mouth when that deep voice of his is breaking through. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Wow, you are observant,” Breathing out a laugh, you're nodding eyes lifting to find his. He even looked good from this close. “Wait.” His quick movements startle you, a not so cute squeal filling the night air as he bends to lift you, effortlessly wrapping your legs around his waist.

You're both laughing, like side aching chuckles. And you're certain you've never seen him like this before. Eyes forming crescent moons as loud snickers fall from his grinning lips. He's pretty. You're so dazed by that simple fact that you don't notice the way his laughter has died down into soft breaths.

Not until silence is falling over both of you and he's leaning up to press his lips against yours. Large hand lifting to tangle in your hair as he kisses you.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:29

And he doesn't stop kissing you. Not on the train home where you sit on his lap and he swallows every last one of your whines. Not on the walk to your place where he keeps his arm around your shoulder, occasionally leaning down to press kisses against your cheeks. Even stood at your doorstep, you're still like teenagers who just discovered making out.

“Do you want to come up?” You're murmuring against his lips, sentences barely coherent through the push of your lips.

He's registering your words a few moments after you've said them, pulling back to reveal the worried expression on his features. Doesn't say anything, though. Like he's stuck between taking you up on your offer and whatever concern is plaguing his mind.

And then it's hitting you. “Hoseok's out with some girl. Just in case you're worried about that,” You don't miss the way his face relaxes, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Pulling a blase expression, moving into your space again. “Why would I be worried about that?”

Eyes rolling, you let out a laugh. “Oh, my mistake.” You mock, turning to unlock your front door. Joon is following steps behind you into the house, no sign of Hoseok in sight. Not like he'd really care, on Namjoon's part. Just give you an ear full about how your actions would affect the company.

So, you're glad he's out. In no mood to hear any of that tonight. “Do you want a glass of wine?” Namjoon is following you into the kitchen, nodding along to your words.

He just can't seem to take his eyes off you. Followed your movements from the pantry to the cabinets all the way to the island where you poured alcohol into glasses for the two of you. Watched the way your lips tickled the neck of the bottle, sucking up the droplets that had spilled, dark eyes finding his the moment you're pulling back.

Daring him. To do something. Anything. Joon knew he needed to be bold. Impulsive. Throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences later. It's how you got what you wanted all the time and right now, he wanted you.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he's rounding the island. Closing the space between the two of you. Hand cupping the side of your face as he wraps an arm around your waist. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, rhythmically. “I don't want wine,” Your heart hammers in your chest.

“What do you want?” You ask, although, you already know the answer.

He takes to showing you rather than telling you, using the grip he holds around your waist to lift your body onto the counter. Stepping into the space between your legs before he's covering your mouth with his.

This kiss is much different from the others, no longer testing the waters. There's determination behind each movement of his lips. Both hands gripping your waist, pulling your body forward until his hips are pressed to yours. His tongue slips past his soft lips to graze your bottom lip. And you're opening up for him without a moment of hesitation, fingers tangling in his messy locks, and pulling – a low groan emerging from the back of his throat.

He's pushing his body flush against yours, hips lifting rightly and you feel the twitch of his cock through his sweats. Sweet moans fall from your lips with every roll of his hips, deliberately pushing down desperate to feel more of him. Your senses are filled with him. The taste of his tongue, the sweet smell of his cologne, how good it feels to have him pressed up against you.

Strong hands roam around your body, gripping the fabric of your skirt tight enough to have it inching up the smooth skin of your thighs. Gently cupping the back of your neck to hold your head steady as he licks into your mouth. He can't seem to make up his mind, greedily wanting to touch all of you at once.

You're meeting everyone of his upward thrusts with a downward roll of your hips, moans growing louder between the two of you with each brush of your most sensitive parts. And you want more. Legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, you needed more.

“Fuck, princess.” He's gasping out, not leaving a moment to spare for you to marvel at the pet name that fell from his lips so easily. His mouth makes steady work on your neck, suck red blotches into your skin as the palm of his hand moves down the front of your body. Sneaking underneath the hem of your skirt, your body jolts when he's pressing the tips of his fingers to your slit through the soft fabric of your panties.

Pretty moans fill the room as he teases you, fingers tight in his hair. Heady becoming heavy for your shoulders as the pleasure he's ensuing washes over you. “Namjoon,” You're gasping, hips bucking up when he's pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. Above the cotton, but each stroke has electricity cruising through your veins.

He chuckles as your whines become more insistent, hips following the movement of his fingers. “That feel good?” Head bobbing frantically, your legs spread wider for him. So sure, you're soaked all the way through from the way he's palming roughly at your panties. He's confirming your thoughts with a groan and a breathy, “You're so fucking wet,”

“Please, Joon. More.” Panting as your hips lift up toward him. He's grinning wide, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your neck before he's nudging your panties out of the way. “So greedy,” He teases, at the same time his fingers find your clit. He's pressing lazy circles into the sensitive nub, taking his time despite the needy roll of your hips. “Tell me what you want,” Dark eyes travel up the length of your body to your face, you don't even bother to mask the moan that slips at the sight.

An experimental finger teases your entrance, sneaking in past the first knuckle before quickly pulling out and repeating the same action. If it wasn't for the solid stiffness pressed against your thigh, you'd guess that he was torturing you for the hell of it. But judging from the steady rut of his hips, he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

You couldn't wait any longer, though. This moment has plagued your thoughts since the first time you were meeting him. What it would be like to be with him like this. Have him fuck you. You'd surely die if it wasn't now. “Fuck me,” The words come out more whiny than you originally intended but, hey. “Please, Namjoon.”

“Soon, princess.” He promises, sinking his middle finger into your tightness. Eyes flickering between your bodies so he can watch the way the single-digit disappears within your walls. So fascinated with the movement of his own fingers and egged on with your pretty moans, he's quickly pushing another finger in.

Namjoon's mouth finds yours, swallowing every last one of your hushed moans as he fucks into you. Scissoring you open with his long fingers, free hand tugging at the bottom of your top until it's around your waist, tits spilling out. He's groaning against your lips as his palm cups you from underneath, thumb lifting to brush against your nipple.

His head is lowering until he's able to latch his lips around the hardening bud. His sharp teeth graze over it slightly, gentle tongue washing over the slight pinch of his bites. You're whimpering at the feeling of his thumb pressing into your clit, back falling against the cool countertop as your hips move in tandem with his fingers.

It's not long before he's nudging a third finger past your walls, lips moving to mouth on the other side. Thumb moving expertly over your clit while his fingers provide such a delicious stretch, you're squirming beneath him. Searching for something to grip onto as the pressure begins to build in the pit of your stomach.

You take to tugging his hair, pushing his face against your chest as your back arches off of the counter. Wanton moans filling the room, you're being so loud but you can't find the strength to quiet down. Not while he's making you feel this good. And then all at once, he's pushing in deeper, fingers curling and brushing against that rough patch of skin hidden deep inside of you.

“Oh, fuck! Don't stop, don't stop.” You're chanting over and over, hips rocking into his palm and Joon has no plans of stopping. Not when you sound like that, each whine and whimper shooting straight to his cock. He feels the way your walls flutter around his fingers and he's quickly lifting his head to watch your face.

There's a sheen layer of sweat on your forehead. Eyes rolled back as your lashes flutter, lips slightly pursed. Jaw falling slack, a breathless gasp slipping at the same time he feels a gush of wetness surrounding his fingers. Incoherent mumbles of thanks fall from your lips as your body shakes. He keeps his fingers buried inside of you, thrusting slowly until your words are dying down to soft breaths.

Opting to give you the time you may need to regain your composure... which only lasts a few seconds before you're sitting up. Arms and legs pulling him toward you. “Fuck, that was so good.” You say through a laugh, mouth finding his in a sloppy kiss as you work to pull his sweatshirt from his body.

Joon follows your lead, working on tugging his sweats out of the way. Your soft hand meets his, gently pushing it out of the way and dipping into the front of his boxers. Palm closing around his thick shaft and your eyes are going wide, fingers not being able to meet around the base.

“Holy, fuck...” Your hand drags over his length, more so measuring him than anything. Excitement igniting in your chest the longer it takes for your hand to meet the tip. Which is leaking with precum at this point, you feel it when your palm finally covers the tip and then use it to make moving your hand back down easier.

His hips follow the movement of your hand, attempting to fuck into the opening your palm created. Spaced out as the pleasure slowly clouds his mind. He looked so good. Chest and stomach flexing as he moves, shining underneath the dull kitchen lights. Brows furrowed and jaw clenched, making dimples appear at the sides of his mouth.

Your free hand slides down the front of his body until the tips of your fingers are brushing against his balls. Massaging them underneath the slight pressure while your wrist twists over his cock. “Yn, baby. Wait... fuck,” His hips are stuttering to a stop, hand reaching down to still the movement of your palm.

“I won't last,” A soft pink dusts his cheeks as he looks up at you, eyes glossed over and barely focused. He's letting out a breathless laugh before he's leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wanna fuck you first,”

The admission is waking up something entirely different inside you. Something you can't easily place and are in no mood to decipher. Instead, you grin, returning the kiss to his lips before grinning. “Fuck me, please.”

That's all he needs to hear before he's taking a step back from you, not giving you a moment to feel his absence before he's sliding you from the counter. Hands on your hips to turn your back to him, his large hand resting on the middle of your back. “Bend over,” Voice deep in your ear, you'd very much walk off the edge of a cliff if he was asking you like that.

You bend forward without any protest, the cool granite pressing against your exposed nipples. Joon holds a hand just above your ass, the other wrapped around the base of his cock – guiding himself toward your aching core. His thick head nudges against your tight hole and you both gasp as you swallow him in.

He takes his time, allowing you to feel every inch as he slips in. And you don't miss the way his thumb has moved to rest in the indent just above the swell of your ass. Pulling your body toward him with his grip. His huffed breath tickling your back the moment he's bottoming out.

Palms formed fists beside you, concentrating on your breathing as you get used to the feeling of being stretched this way. Slowly, he's pulling out until the head is catching at your entrance then he's pushing his way back in, your body sliding up on the counter with the movement. The stuttered movement of his hips slowly shifts into a steady rhythm that has a string of moans falling from your lips.

Strong, bruising thrusts into your backside paired with the gruff groans that escape his throat. He's so deep, the tip of his cock nudging against your g-spot with each thrusts forward. “Fuck, look how perfectly you take my cock, baby.” He groans, eyes glued to the way your lips are wrapped around him.

All you can muster back in response is a weak whine, a garbled cry of big he was... or how good he feels. Mind nothing but mush at this point, the overwhelming pleasure from the way he was fucking, softening your brain. Either way, he takes the incoherent noises as a compliment, speeding up the snap of his hips.

You all about lose it when he's reaching down to grip your hair, lifting your body onto his, keeping a steady movement of his hips as he reaches around you to find your clit. Rolling it between his knuckles until he's feeling that familiar squeeze around his shaft. Soaking up every whimper and every cry as he brings you closer and closer to release.

“You gonna cum again for me, baby?” Gasping out, your head bobs up and down, back arching in hopes to steal more than what he was willing to give you. “Please, make me cum.” He can feel the way your walls flutter around him, the whine in your voice. And since he's inclined to give you whatever you want, Joon's angling his hips in a way that he knows will make you cum.

And it's not long before the pressure is snapping in the pit of your stomach, loud cries filling the room as your hips lift into a shake. Walls clenched so tight around his cock, it's enough to nudge him over the edge. He fucks into you with great fervor, leaning your body back onto the counter as his hips snap against yours.

Thrusts becoming sloppy and untimed as he feels himself falling apart, an odd mixture of curses and your name falling from his lips as he feels his body tense. He's pulling out as a hurried afterthought, hand acting as a lame substitute for your wet core as he strokes himself to completion. Spilling onto your back with a strained groan.

And then the kitchen goes silent, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths and the hum of the fridge filling the room. Neither of you says anything, both trying to come back to your senses. A few moments pass before he's hearing the soft sound of your giggle, body rising off your stomach to turn and face him. He looks so dazed and fucked out, cheeks flushed and eyes blown. Hair a mess and breath ragged. He looked so hot.

A hand finds the back of his neck, fingers tangling into the soft hair there. Joon's grinning when his eyes find yours, an arm wrapping around your waist. Pulling you closer, because it never felt like you were close enough. “We just fucked,” You state the obvious, can't find it in yourself not to.

It was nice. You liked it. You liked him. Everything about him, you just found yourself liking. His laugh. His smile. How easily he was annoyed. The cute dimples. The sound of his voice. You liked him.

“Yeah, we did.” He's replying, a little breathless but he still manages to lean down to capture your lips with his. A short kiss that has you leaning up, silently asking for me. He denies you with a cute shake of his head. “Let's go upstairs. I wanna go down on you,” Okay, bold Joon was something you were definitely going to have to get used to.

He's twirling you around when you don't move to lead him, large hand dropping to tap against your ass cheek, pulling a giggled squeal from your lips. “Ah!” You're laughing when he's reaching to do it again, instead taking hold of his hand. Fingers easily intertwining as you tug him behind you.

His back pressed to yours, cock growing hard against your backside as you lead him up the stairs and into your room. The sound of laughter only growing between the two of you.

Yeah, you liked him a lot.

MAY 10TH, 2020 | 23:58

Your body is warm against his, back pressed to his chest. Soft moans filling the air as he holds you close, pushing into you, chasing yet another release. This time in your bed. With you in his arms and it feels different. It feels nice. It makes him wonder... what's next? If there's something more for him to hope for.

He wanted to be with you, to put it simply. Never would've imagined it'd be you, but now he can't imagine it being anyone else. But things just sometimes worked out that way. Namjoon wanted to be yours, but in turn, he wanted you to be his.

Somehow, he felt like that might be the tricky part of it all.

— daughter of the ceo of the biggest record label, it’s obvious she’d get whatever and whoever she wants. but what happens when she’s meeting the one person that refuses to play into her spoiled brat act?

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

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jaeminzie · 3 years

Text

what do you desire? | n.jm

↳ na jaemin x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: a single tutoring session to help a failing na jaemin earned you a ticket to receive whatever you want. so what will it be?

genre: fluff

word count: 2,082

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

“don’t you feel any sympathy for me?!” jaemin’s voice bounced on the walls, making your ears rings for the nth time for the past ten minutes of him following you around campus. “professor vector will kill me if i fail another arithmancy exam!” his voice seems louder than before indicating that he got closer to your moving body.

you groaned as your legs began to feel like jelly after brisk walking the entire school. halting your steps and turning your body sharply to face the distressed boy, making the ends of your blue hinted robe swing into the air. “well, if only you studied-“

“-and that’s exactly why i need you to help me.” the boy dressed in green took a few steps to get closer to you and reached for your hands (which you gladly pulled away from him) with pleading eyes. “i promise i won’t waste your time, i’ll for sure get a good grade if you help me.” that stupid, beautiful smile of his made a small appearance, making you roll your eyes at his act of flattery.

“and what do i get from it?” you crossed your arms and glared him down which made the boy frown. “as a tutor, i need some form of payment.”

jaemin’s head fell back as he let out a laugh, giving you a perfect view of his exposed neck accessorized with a dainty gold necklace that complimented his beauty so well. “isn’t it obvious?” he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, expecting you to know what the hell he was talking about. he continued to look at you until the silence became unbearably long, he scoffed, “you get to spend time with me, of course!”

your mouth gaped open at his words and the seriousness of his face, “goodbye, jaemin.” dropping your arms to your side, you turned away from his body and began walking at your previous speed only to be pulled back when jaemin grabbed your hand and turned you around by your waist.

he immediately removed his hands off of you when he noticed the flare in your eyes. “okay okay, i was kidding.” scratching his neck, jaemin was thankful it was nighttime since you weren’t able to see his crimson red cheeks nor see the way his eyes glistened as he admired your features underneath the moonlight. “i’ll do whatever you want, i don’t care what it is — literally anything your heart desires. promise.” he lifted his pinky finger up and looked at you seriously.

you pondered at his offer and smirked once you realized that jaemin has a meaty wallet while you had a long shopping list of supplies to check off at dervish and banges. “fine.” jaemin’s smile couldnt be contained at your word, you held up a finger to shush his incoherent noises of excitement. “i cannot be seen with you.”

his smile dropped and placed his hands on his waist, “well, that’s insulting.”

“you expect me to be with you in broad daylight when you have an entire cult of students who would kill one another to receive a one-second glance from you?” you roll your eyes when jaemin begins to smirk, feeling his ego inflating. “we meet after hours at the astronomy tower tomorrow night.”

“y/n, if you want to get with me, just tell me — you don’t need to use our tutor sesh as an exc-“

you scoffed and turned around to walk toward the ravenclaw common room, leaving the boy to talk to himself in the empty corridor.

you shake your head to yourself. why, just why are you doing this.

—

two days later, you sat in study hall fighting your heavy eyelids and limp neck. the first tutor session with jaemin consisted of one sided conversations and flirting since the boy cannot get a hint. though, there were times where he’d impress you with his ability to learn things quickly.

your friend nudged your shoulder and ‘pst’-ed at you. “did you hear about last night?” she spoke quietly, making sure not to disturb the people around you.

you looked at her briefly before closing your eyes to gain some sort of relief from your exhaustion. “don't know, and frankly, i don’t care.”

“well, na jaemin from slytherin house has a significant other.”

you giggled to yourself because there’s no way a boy with such a bad game could score a date when you weren’t even willing to have tutoring with him. “yeah yeah.”

your friend whisper-yelled, “and they’re from our house!” your eyes immediately widened. “right! they were seen walking around past bedtime by gryffindor’s head boy, mark lee, when he was told to make sure there were no students awake.”

you sat up straight, fully awake, shaking your head. “you think anyone is stupid enough to walk around hogwarts at night?”

“a ravenclaw at that.” your friend shrugged. “mark only saw jaemin’s face and the blue details of the other’s robe, he sucks at lying so.”

“bogus.” you huffed.

“what?” she gave you a teasing smile. “jealous? you like him or something?”

you fake laughed at your friend and discreetly began writing a note before gathering your supplies and dismissing yourself. you scanned the room, walking your way to the man of the hour and slipped the note on the table he sat alone at. you wasted no time dashing out the hall, making sure you didn’t look suspicious since jaemin had eyes on him every second and you seriously did not feel like being mauled right now.

jaemin watched your body disappear through the doors and frowned at how you didn’t bother to speak a single word to him before leaving. he fiddled with the small piece of paper before opening it up, smiling as he read the words.

astronomy tower, same time. don’t be late.

—

jaemin’s body turned around in an instant when he heard the wooden floor of the tower creaking, already showcasing his smirk. “what do we have here?” he questioned your late arrival when you were so persistent on being on time yourself.

you couldn’t respond as you were trying to catch your breath after enduring the dreadful flight of stairs.

jaemin smiled endearingly at your state, walking up to you slowly, “i’ll let it slide because you’re too cute.” he ended his sentence with a small boop on your nose, still keeping his smile on his face. “what's the occasion, we didn’t plan to study? you couldn’t get enough of me, huh.”

finally maintaining a stable breathing pattern, “you wish.”

jaemin chuckled and wiped his nose with his thumb, “you’re right, i do wish that.” the octave of his voice dropped even lower, making your knees weak and your act harder to play. “i’m guessing you heard the rumors.”

you snapped your head up to look at him. “you knew?” he responded silently with a nod. “aren't you friends with that mark guy?” another nod. “if people find out it’s me, i’ll be dead.”

“when people find out it’s you.” he corrected you.

you let out a breathy laugh and he stood so closely to you that the air hit his face, making the front strands of his hair swing back. “you’re funny.”

his smirk dropped and was replaced with a small smile. “i got an ‘a’ on my exam, by the way.”

your mood shifted at his words, the smile on your face was so bright that jaemin believed the moonlight couldn’t even compete against you. when you realize you’ve been smiling for an abnormal amount of time, you cleared your throat and brushed his shoulder with yours as you walked past him toward the metal railings. “good job.” you rested your elbows on the metal and took in the fresh air and the beautiful view from the tower.

jaemin’s footsteps were slow as he made his way behind you, he stood directly behind you with his hands in his pockets. “thanks to you.” he breathed against your hair, making your heart race. “so, what does your heart desire, y/n?”

you. you thought to yourself.

his hands reached over to lean them against the railing, making his chest press against your back. “i can turn down the rumors if that’s what you really want.”

you tried to stabilize your breathing, you wanted nothing more than to crumble into the floor as you felt your face and neck become warmer. “no.” you spat out, wincing silently at yourself for the impulsive decision. clearing your throat, “it’s fine.”

you couldn’t see but jaemin was smiling as he felt your ragged breathing against his chest, and saw how your fingers nervously fiddled with the railing in front of your bodies. wanting to have more fun and test your buttons, he questioned, “why is that?” he lowered his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder, he could feel the heat of your cheeks radiate and you felt the heat from the tip of his ears touch your bare neck.

“just cause. to save you from trouble.” you mumbled.

“and what about my cult?”

“i don’t care anymore.”

“so you don’t care if i-“ he placed a delicate kiss on the side of your neck. “-in front of them?”

your breath audibly hitched at his actions, and you swore he could feel your heart pounding through your back. you could only hummed at him.

he removed his hands off of the railing and wrapped his arms around your waist, securing his hold on you. “i knew it.” he spoke softly right into your ear.

caressing your body, he moved his hands on your sides and maneuvered your body to face him and placed your back against the rusty metal. “i like you too.”

you laughed at the dreamy eyes he’s giving you and the overflowing confidence in his tone of voice. “you sound so sure of yourself.”

he quirked an eyebrow. “are you saying that i’m wrong?”

you purse your lips at him and chose not to answer his question to tease him.

jaemin’s face moved closer to yours, nose brushing against each other and lips gazing one another. “that’s what i thought.” his lips brushed yours as he spoke, and you could feel the butterflies unleash out of their cocoons and soar through your entire body.

you were prepared to let out a snarky remark but you lost your train of thought once you felt his plump lips engulf your soft ones. jaemin’s grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you closer to him while your hands moved up his torso, chest, and landed underneath his jaw. the movements of your lips never ceased as both of you finally grew tired of hiding your feelings toward each other — well mainly your feelings, jaemin wasn’t the most discreet with his.

the sounds of your lips and heavy breathing filled the tower. jaemin pulled away just to kiss the skin around your lips and down your neck, his hands slithered around and found a place on your lower back. you sighed contently at the sensation of his wet lips against the cold skin of your neck.

his kissing gradually came to a stop, he looked up at you with a tired smile and shining eyes. you both admired the view in front of each other before the tinted red boy pulled you into a hug, hand in your hair while yours caressed his broad back.

“i thought of my wish.” you pulled back from the hug to look him in the eye but kept your arms secure around his waist, jaemin copied your moves.

jaemin looked around, pretending to think. “hmm, what could it be?”

you pinched his side slightly, making his addictive giggle erupt out of him. “my heart desires a date.”

jaemin’s smile grew. “no way, me too. how convenient is that!”

you rolled your eyes at his antics, biting a smile.

“and also for you to protect me from your little cult.” jaemin laughed at your words but both of you knew you were being serious.

he nodded and hummed. “whatever your heart desires, i shall grant it.”

you cringed at his language. “gross, don’t do that.” slapping a hand against his chest while laughing. jaemin brought up his left hand to hold yours placed on his chest, grabbing it, caressing it with his thumb, and bringing it up to his lips to gently place a lingering kiss right on the back of your hand.

“whatever your heart desires.”

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weasleyswizardpleases · 3 years

Text

Low Profile (reader x fred and george)

Summary: You and your best friends find yourself entangled in a secret polyamorous love affair, right under their family’s noses.

Warnings/Notes: Cw language, kissing (but no sex of any kind), family not accepting poly/queer relationship, bruising. This is for the wonderful and talented @lunalovecroft’s 2.7k trope-inspired writing challenge! It’s also part of my loose series of fics that take place over the summer when y/n stays at the Weasleys’ house. No twincest- v shaped poly relationship. Here’s my masterlist if you want more! Enjoy!

Ever since you and Fred hooked up the first night of the summer, you’ve been joined at the hip even more than usual, and since George is always with Fred and usually with you, he had to be told once it was clear that you and Fred were gonna be more than a one night stand. You were a bit sad, knowing that it’d probably make him feel left out, in a way. You noticed that George looked a bit miffed when the two of you told him you were dating, in the loosest sense of the word.

“What’s the matter, you jealous Georgie?” you tease, putting your hand on his knee flamboyantly. He blushes and you and Fred exchange a look.

“Oh my god, you actually are, aren’t you?” Fred asks, half-mocking. For once, George seems to be at a loss for words. He looks quite uncertain and a bit sad. You figure that you may as well break the tension and speak honestly; it’s more important to you to be frank and maintain your friendship than anything else. You clear your throat.

“George, honestly, if you’d been there instead of Fred that night, I’d probably have hooked up with you, too. We’ll all still be friends. That’s why we’re telling you, so we’re not keeping secrets,” you say, trying to goad him into speaking. He shakes his discomfort off and begins.

“Oh, I knew this would happen! We used to just be friends before the two of you started making eyes at each other all the time. Now I’ll barely be able to talk to the two of you- my two best friends, mind you- without all this lovey dovey shit. What an absolute nightmare!”

You open your mouth to speak, but George barrels on, looking at Fred this time.

“And you, some brother you are. You know how I feel about Y/N, I thought we had an agreement to keep it platonic all around?”

“It’s not my fault they’re interested in me!”

“George, I said I would have kissed you that night too! Actually, that’s what I’ve been trying to say to both of you. I’ve got feelings for you, both of you.”

They stop bickering and turn to look at you, turning the idea over in their minds.

“What are you saying?” asks Fred, looking a bit hurt.

“I’m saying,” you take a deep breath, “that I’ve never been better friends with one of you than the other. We do everything together. I don’t want that to change. Besides, you two are identical. Did you think your birthmark was that big of a selling point, Freddie? Of course I think you’re both good-looking, look in the mirror for goodness’ sake!”

They blink at you, then turn away to confer with one another in whispers. You tap your foot impatiently, but when they turn around, they’re beaming.

“So what you’re saying is you’d be fine with us sharing you?” George asks.

“More than fine. I’d be absolutely chuffed,” you say, returning their smiles.

“It’s settled, then,” Fred says, and plants a kiss on the top of your head. You look up at George permissively, and he puts his arm around you and gives you a squeeze.

“One thing, though. Mum and Dad can’t know. Mum especially. She’s not the most open-minded when it comes to this stuff. Especially with us. At least, I doubt she is,” Fred says.

“Yeah, funnily enough it never occurred to me to ask what she’d do if my twin brother and I started a poly fling with our best friend who also lives with us and sleeps in our bedroom, but if I had to guess, I don’t think she’d approve,” George adds, smirking.

“That’s ok. We have a pretty good track record when it comes to keeping secrets,” you say, a mischievous glimmer in your eye.

That evening, you’re helping Molly fold linens when she steps away for a moment to take the kettle off. You feel four hands slip around you from behind and soon you’re pulled into a kiss, Fred on your left, kissing you hard on the neck and collarbone, and George kissing your lips, taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. You kiss them passionately but push them away after a second, regaining your composure.

“Not here!” you hiss, grinning. They exchange a cheeky glance and kiss you on each cheek before scurrying back to their room, giggling. You shake your head and turn back to folding sheets, just as Mrs. Weasley returns.

“My, my dear, that’s quite a bruise you’ve got there, what happened?” Mrs. Weasley clucks, gesturing to your collarbone where you’re surprised to see a dark, newly formed hickey.

“Oh, pickup quidditch match. I’m not very good, I’m afraid,” you say, the rush of the small lie filling you with butterflies.

“Well now, we are wizards after all. We can’t have you running about looking as if you’ve been sleeping under the whomping willow,” she says cheerfully. She extracts her wand and uses a quick healing spell on the spot, which fades quickly. You wonder if she really doesn’t recognize the bruise as a hickey, but you shrug. The twins have certainly gotten away with worse under this roof.

That night, you and the twins are in the kitchen having a midnight snack. The rest of the house is quiet. You’re sitting on the countertop, helping yourself to a biscuit, and George is leaning on the counter beside you. You feed him a little bite and he licks the crumbs from your fingers playfully. Fred is rummaging through the fridge across the room, and George peers into the fridge nosily. Something piques his interest, and he heads over, whispering to his brother indistinctly. You catch them giggling, and can hear snatches of their conversation. They appear to be working on something as they chat eagerly.

“Take the…”

“... and the… yes! Use a…”

“... that’s just bad…”

“...dare you…”

You hear the familiar sound of compressed air decompressing, and Fred whirls around with a pie tin full of whipped cream in his hand, grinning devilishly.

“No!” you whisper-scream, nearly falling off the countertop, but you’re not fast enough. Fred flops the tin into your face with a splat, and George laughs so hard he winds up on the ground kicking. You lick the cream from your lips, hungry for revenge.

You know Fred is secretly quite vain about his hair, and you waste no time sliding off the countertop and wrapping him up in a hug from behind. He suspects your ulterior motives immediately, but it’s too late for him to escape.

“Oh darling, give me a hug my sweet,” you say, making exaggerated kissy noises while burying your pie covered face in his nice clean hair. He flails about, and you tickle his ribs defensively, causing him to buckle. You fall to the ground with him, giggling and shoving at one another. Just as George joins in, trying to drag you off of his brother, kissing you all over as he tugs on your legs, you hear a floorboard creak.

Ginny, whose room is closest to the kitchen, stands at the foot of the stairs, gaping at you. You’re sure she saw the kissing, and, well, the whole situation does look a bit… familiar. You whack George on the head and nod in Ginny’s direction.

“Oh, hello Ginny,” Fred says, disentangling himself from his situation beneath you.

“Hello, big brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” George says, surprise straining his voice.

“Hello, other brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” you say uncertainly, standing up and wiping your face off with a tea towel.

“Hello, Y/N,” she says. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know,” she says, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Everyone speaks in hushed tones once again, having remembered that it is indeed the middle of the night. She nods curtly and scampers back upstairs, smiling cheekily.

“Did she see?” George whispers.

“Oh, she saw,” you assure him.

“But she wouldn’t say anything, right?” Fred asks.

“Surely not,” his brother replies nervously.

“But if she does…”

“We’re toast. No way mum believes us over her.”

“You guys are being too paranoid. Ginny isn’t a snitch like Ron and Percy, she wouldn’t blab on us for a bit of… roughhousing,” you say hopefully. The twins agree, and you help each other get cleaned up, George dabbing your face clean with a wet towel, giving you gentle kisses in between.

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. As far as you know, Ginny doesn’t say anything about what she saw, and life in the burrow goes on as usual. In the mornings, you and Hermione read quietly in the living room over tea. She reads the paper, you look at the comics, every once in a while stopping to remark on a thought you’ve had.

Then George wakes up. He’s quiet in the mornings, a bit slow, although not very grumpy. Then Molly gets up and usually whips up some sort of breakfast, and by the times everyone’s up you all gather round the long table and eat together. Then, if you’re lucky, you run off outside or to a neighbor's house or abscond to the attic with Fred and George, away from prying eyes and away from Molly’s commands. If you’re unlucky, Molly enlists at least one of you in some chores, usually out in the garden.

The next time the three of you come close to getting caught, you’re doing just this- de-gnoming with Fred, George, and Ron when Ron gets a headache and goes inside, complaining that it’s far too hot. In reality, the day is rather mild, although the sun is bright enough that Fred and George both have pink sunburns radiating across the bridges of their noses. You flick Fred on his sunburnt cheek and he winces.

“Ow! What’s that for?!” he asks, nearly dropping a gnome right back into the grass.

“I need your attention!”

“For what?”

“A kiss,” you reply devilishly. He obliges you and kisses you dramatically, dipping you low, holding you in his arms. “Like this, mi amore?” he asks in a silly accent.

“Lunchtime!” Molly calls from the doorway, causing Fred to drop you to the ground and George to leap in front of the two of you oddly, trying to obscure his mum’s line of sight. You brush yourself off and head for the house, hoping Mrs. Weasley didn’t see anything.

“Fred Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley says shrilly, and you all cringe. You hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Fred, did I just see you toss Y/n to the ground? That’s no way to treat a guest, especially when you’re meant to be doing housework!” You sigh deeply, relieved. “Come in, dearie, I swear, sometimes I don’t know who raised those two!” she says, putting an arm around you to guide you in the house.

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attllhak · 3 years

Text

Adoption AU - Lullaby Reacts to Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit

@tortilla-of-courage I offer you mercy. Also no one mentioned wanting to be tagged on the last story on this series so it’s just you for right now I guess.

Also, this fic is called ‘Aunt Lullaby/Uncle Sheik On Time’s Sudden Acquisition Of Kids’ in my docs, but I’ve been using the ‘Batman-Level Adoption Bullshit’ for so long that this is the title now.

Also! Some of the boys have some heavy topics to their backstories (Wars comes to mind as an example), so let me know if I need to tag this with certain warnings or stuff. Nothing is actually shown, but I figured I’d just put that out there.

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

Lullaby, who was still just Zelda then, had been very excited when Time, then just Link, had called her to tell her that Malon was pregnant.

She had gotten the call first, as Link had found it important that she knew before anyone else. After everything else in his life, he said, he wanted the person who he knew would always be there for him to know first, and that he was going to be making a few other calls later that day.

Link had never had an easy life. When his father died when he was 10, he’d ended up devastated. Zelda and her Aunt Impa had found him hiding in an alley a few days after, once he’d run away from the social workers. His sister Navi had been with him, and the two were sorting through the very few bits of snack food they’d had. Link’s father had been a foster parent for a lot of strays, orphans, or abused kids needing another place to stay. Link had fallen into the orphan category, and so the social workers had planned to cycle him back into the system. He’d lost contact with his sister Saria, whom he still hadn’t found out how to make contact with again, and so all he had was Navi. Impa had taken them both in on the spot, much to the annoyance of Zelda’s father initially, but the two grew on him. Navi went missing when Link and Zelda had been 17, after an issue with a man who really had wanted to see them both dead. Link hadn’t given up hope yet, but with every passing year it looked worse and worse for her to be okay.

Zelda had known Malon from day one, and had loved Link’s wife and was so happy to see him find that bit of happiness. The one thing she knew he wanted more than anything else was to have a solid, stable family of his own.

The pregnancy was a wonderful bit of news, and she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

She had spent some time over at their house, her then-girlfriend Ruto coming as well, helping Malon with some of the housework and such since she wasn’t supposed to be doing too much of the ranch work while pregnant.

She had arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes after she got the call that Malon was in labor, and spent the time pacing in the hall, then supporting Link when he got kicked out after panicking too much. Apparently Malon had enough of him.

She could relate.

After Link had his whole ‘we made a whole baby person’ moment where his brain short-circuited after he was handed his son, the next person who got to hold him was Zelda. A chubby baby, who slept almost the whole time. He had his mother’s nose, thank Hylia.

Zelda saw him open his eyes only once that day, and she could swear she saw in his cobalt-silver eyes that same spark in his father’s eye. Singular, since Link only had the one.

Zelda’s family had a long tradition of naming their kids after family members. Her name was her grandmother’s and her great-grandmother’s, so on so forth. Her father had been pressing to pick a family name the entire pregnancy. Her mother had kept telling him to back off a little. Fortunately, Malon’s family also had a set of passed down names, hers being one of them. So the idea of naming the child after family wasn’t a big deal for her, even if it was a different set of names.

However, there was one thing to take into account here, and that was Link’s family.

No one knew what the naming traditions in his family were, he didn’t even know his birth parent’s names. But that didn’t change the desire to find a way to work them in too.

There was only one name from Link’s family that anyone knew.

The baby was named Link.

Zelda’s father stopped complaining a week later. Her mother was very clear about it.

At Zelda and Ruto’s wedding seven years later, Link Jr. was the ring bearer.

Junior stopped being his nickname when he was thirteen.

(---)

Zelda got a call from Link Sr. about a day after it happened with a simple request.

“Who was in charge of the paperwork when your family adopted me?”

Zelda blinked once, then twice. “Come again?”

“The lawyer who arranged for my adoption, who was that?” Link asked again.

“Why?” Zelda asked, her wife leaning around the doorframe to give her a concerned look. Zelda shot her a thumbs up.

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “I think I’ve acquired another son,”

Zelda came over.

This new nephew of hers, apparently, was a sweet boy. A series of scars littered his entire left side, burn and explosive damage if she were to guess, and he had no idea how he got them. He had amnesia. The one thing he did know was his name.

His name was Link.

Zelda had to take a minute. She was trying very hard not to laugh. This was exactly the kind of luck her brother had.

“Zelda, stop mocking me, this wasn’t my call,” Link whined, though he’d never say it was a whine.

“Link, you have to see the humour here,” she gasped, waving at the two boys in the living room where Jr. was trying to show Scars how to use a lasso. This was Zelda’s idea, but she wasn’t taking responsibility for it.

Link just sighed heavily. “Link found him on the street. Malon looked into it and his parents died in a car crash a year ago, he has nowhere to go. We’ve agreed to let him stay, you understand that,”

Zelda nodded, sobering up some. “Yeah, I get that, kinda. The lawyer we hired was named Rauru, Mom should have his contact information still, you should call her,”

Link sighed, relieved. “Thank you,”

“Of course, just don’t make it a habit,”

(---)

The first inclination this would be a habit was a year later.

Wild, the younger of his sons, was in the same class as another boy named Link. This boy had lived with his uncle his whole life, and got the call his uncle died when at school. Sheik was about ready to punch someone for doing that to the boy, and just before christmas no less.

Wild brought him home, insisting he could stay at least for the holidays. The agreement wasn’t even a question, there was no way he was going to be forced to spend a holiday at an orphanage.

When Sheik and Ruto showed up on christmas day, not that their family cared much for christmas but they were all off anyways, the newest Link had been named Legend.

He was a little more shy than the others, understandably, and a little snappish.

Not a bad kid, just one grieving and in need of family. That was something their family had never hesitated to provide.

Sheik’s mother teaching him how to spin a butterfly knife was probably not the wisest decision, but considering Rottla heard a therapist say “Your kids are traumatized, they need to feel safe again,” and decided to sign them up for every martial arts she could, well, it should have been a sign that she wasn’t the best in that regard. Time, Link Sr., had made it very clear he felt Sheik took after her. Sheik had no idea what his brother was talking about.

Legend didn’t leave after that. One call to Rauru, and Legend was a permanent member of the family.

Sheik took great pride in being the favorite Uncle of Legend’s, after his late guardian of course. He pointedly ignored that he was the only Uncle, and only part-time.

Time could suck it.

(---)

Lullaby, since so many of her nephews’ friends were named Zelda apparently, received a call at five am.

True, she knew her brother and his wife woke up at sunrise to do yard work and such, but usually they were kind enough to let her sleep in.

Not so this morning.

“Wha?” She mumbled into the phone, trying, and failing, to not wake her wife.

“Zelda,” came Malon’s clipped tone through the receiver, “do you know about a missing person’s case for one Jerimiah Smith?”

Zelda blinked heavily, and had to convince herself not to go back to sleep. Who, why did Malon care? It was five am, the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Why?” She asked to buy time, still working on a quarter of thought. Ruto rolled over and held her. Not helping, Ruto.

“I have a Link Smith in my barn claiming that his grandfather went missing, and he’s run away from a temporary foster home,” Malon explained, and okay that was worth waking up for.

Lullaby sat up, pushing Ruto’s arm from her waist to her lap, causing her wife to grumble, and turned on the lamp, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Okay, okay pause. Pause and back up,” she half-swallowed a yawn, squinting into her bedroom. “What is going on?”

“I got up to do some work, since Link is still asleep, and I came into the barn to find a boy asleep in the hay, here you are,” her voice dropped away from the receiver, likely talking to the boy in question, then came back. “So I found a boy in the hay, and I woke him up. He says his name is Link Smith, and he was living with his grandfather since his father was overseas in the military. His father wasn’t home enough to care for him, so his grandfather had sole custody after his mother died or something, there was a lot of tears at this part. Anyways, his grandfather went missing a week ago, and he’s been through three foster homes and none of them were very accepting of, he apparently has a ‘mental thing’ that he’s dealing with. I was wondering if you could confirm his story?”

Lullaby leaned over the bed, grumbling, and grabbed her laptop, Ruto giving up on getting her back to bed and sliding up the headboard with her to drape over her shoulders while she pulled up Firefox. “Hold on,” she told her sister in law, plugging the name into Google. Jeremiah Smith, went missing a week ago, blah blah blah, oh there we go.

Link Smith, grandson of Jerimiah Smith, left in limbo after his grandfather’s disappearance. Oh, that was interesting. According to this article, which most certainly was breaking some privacy laws and if Link Smith was staying it would be coming down, the boy had multiple personality disorder.

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Lullaby said, switching the phone to her other ear so Ruto could nuzzle up better without bumping it. “Also, I found his weird ‘mental thing’. According to this article, which I’m pretty sure isn’t legal, he’s got dissociative identity disorder,”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ruto mumbled, still mostly asleep on her shoulder.

“No, not really. He’s actually more likely to be in danger than a danger,” she twisted to kiss her wife’s head, then went back to Malon. “He probably really needs someone who’ll be supportive enough through all this, both the disappearance and his condition. DID isn’t something easy to live with, I can see him having some issues with foster parents,” Lullaby had never been so glad that she got bored one day and decided to look it up after she heard people talk about it so negatively. You never know when information like that would be useful.

“He’s fine to take in?” Malon whispered after a moment. “I just, the other boys,”

“Will need to be patient, but unless one of his alters is particularly bad for dealing with threats, perceived or otherwise, in an unkind way then he’s fine and safe to be around. I’d ask him about that, but don’t force him to admit anything that can be bad for him, but I don’t see any more risk than taking in Wild or Legend,”

Malon sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll bring him in and wake up Link, so he can call Rauru about all this while I sit with him and try and get him to relax,”

“Wonderful, I’ll call the office and see about what I can do about this article then. And for the record, if you ever call me at asscrack of dawn o’clock in the morning again, then next time we meet I’m clocking you,”

Malon had the nerve to laugh.

Four, as he’d been nicknamed by the time Lullaby and Ruto showed up to meet him, was a fascinating person. Green, the host of his system, was a brave, if occasionally airheaded, boy who wanted to try everything, and had been fascinated by his grandfather’s old-timey forge. Time had plans to make one in the yard for him. Red, the emotional and spiritual protector of the system, was empathetic and sweet and compassionate. No one had a bad word to say about Red. Vio, short for Violet, was the gatekeeper for the system and kept the four of them working on the same page. Bright and clever boy, his nose stuck in a book most of the time and willing to offer up the most random and yet useful information. Blue, the physical protector, was a little gruff and definitely someone you just got used to, but he cared deeply about his ‘brothers’ as they called each other, and the external brothers he acquired grew on him quickly enough too. It was a bit of a fight to get custody of him, but Rauru was the best there was, so it was only a week or two before the paperwork was going through for him.

Lullaby had a feeling this wasn’t the end by a long shot, and prayed that Hylia would be merciful about granting Time’s wish for a family.

She was going a little overboard.

(---)

Sheik wasn’t surprised in the least at the newest addition when he walked in the one day. No, mostly he was just confused as to why he hadn’t gotten a phone call before he got there.

Usually there was a phone call.

He was very upset by the way the boy looked, however.

This new addition, Warriors as he’d learn later that Time acquired yet another Link, was curled up in the corner of the couch with his scarf wrapped around him like a blanket, clearly trying not to be seen. Voices floated out of the kitchen, and Sheik picked up that Twilight brought him home, and was lobbying for a new brother.

Ah, that’s why there was no phone call.

Ruto went to investigate the conversation, so Sheik decided to introduce himself to his newest nephew.

Upon closer inspection, the boy looked about Twilight’s age, and had a bruise on his temple, maybe a day or two old now. Looking closer saw a few more on the left side of the boy’s face. Someone hit him, with purpose.

Sheik sat down next to him and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually, he poked his head out of his scarf.

“Hello,” Sheik offered once it became clear he wouldn’t be saying anything.

“Hullo,” he mumbled into the fabric, glancing away and back at his feet.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik offered lightly. “Time is my brother,”

The boy looked up, eying him. “Twilight is your nephew?”

“Yes, he is,” Sheik nodded, smiling at him. “You’re a friend of his?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda,” a beat of silence passed, then he shifted around. “He said I’d be safe here,”

“You will be,” Sheik agreed, trying to be comforting. “I can assure you of that,”

He hummed and snuggled back into his scarf.

“May I, if this isn’t overstepping, can I ask why you need somewhere to be safe?” Sheik asked after a moment.

He tensed up, eyes darting to him and at the doorway, and then back, wide eyes a little panicked.

Sheik was just about to apologize when the boy spoke.

“I ran away from home,” he admitted, looking away. “My uh, my parents aren’t, great people. I can’t go back, so I need somewhere else to go. Twi said I could be safe here, that his parents would fight for me,”

“They will,” Sheik said with enough conviction it almost startled him. “I know my brother, and he can’t turn away from someone in need, and his wife is the most strong willed woman I’ve ever met. You won’t find another pair of people more willing to go to war for you than them.”

He blinked at Sheik, then nodded, relaxing a little. “And, if my parents come for me?”

Sheik grinned. “My family is very rich, and we have a small army of very good lawyers. You won’t be going back there, I assure you,”

He smiled, and leaned over towards Sheik a little. “I’m Link,”

Of course you are, Sheik thought. He held out an arm for ‘Link’ to lean into, not getting attached to the name since it would be changing. The boy leaned into his side easily, deflating against him with a sigh. He looked so tired.

“Link,” Sheik asked carefully, watching his words. “Can I ask about the bruises on your face?”

The boy blinked up at him, biting his lip.

“They uh, my dad did that,” he admitted in a small voice, curling into Sheik’s side, and the sheikah pulled him in close to his side, hoping to provide the comfort Link was seeking. “Right before I left. I packed up and went through the window. My twin sister is still there, and I’m a little worried about her, but I can’t go back again. I, he,” he paused, sucking in a breath. Sheik rubbed his arm and side, trying to help him calm down, ignoring the tears on his shirt.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Link finally admitted in a small, scared voice.

Sheik knew he never had very many parental instincts, and he and Ruto agreed no kids before they even got engaged, but for the first time ever Sheik felt that flare that Time and Malon described everytime something threatened their kids. It was then and there Sheik decided this boy would be part of their family, whether Time was the one who took him in or not. No kid should have to say that and mean it. No kid should be scared their parent was going to kill them.

Oh, the lawyers Sheik was planning on bringing down on whoever these assholes were would be many.

Time took the boy in, as Sheik predicted (thankfully), and sure enough the immediate support was immense. His parents never even put out a missing persons report. Sheik added child negligence to his list of growing charges to lay out.

Two months after Warriors moved in, he got a call from his sister. She got out and was safe now, and wanted to be sure he was as well. This made him very relieved. They met up once or twice, and seemed to be getting back to normal.

Two weeks later, Legend and Wild got suspended distracting Warriors’ parents so Twilight could sneak him out the back of the school. Four didn’t get suspended, but only because when Vio messed with the security cameras to cover up the escape he didn’t get caught. Time took all three out for ice-cream and junk food when he picked them up.

Lullaby saw an opportunity and took it without hesitation. Lawyers were called and organized, and without much wait there was an order for both of them to appear in court on child abuse and negligence charges. The kidnapping charge laid against them in retaliation was almost laughable.

A few weeks later, Time and Malon had full custody of Warriors pending a proper criminal trial for full punishment of his parents, at which time Linkle, Warriors’ twin sister, planned to testify as well. If they couldn’t get things settled before Warriors turned 18, then they planned to push through an adult adoption the day he did. A birthday present, Time had said. Lullaby laughed.

(---)

Sky was probably the most skittish of Time’s sons.

Lullaby wasn’t sure entirely why he was so skittish, but he was. He reminded her of a bird, or a rodent, or a cat who really, really didn’t want to interact with new people.

She had been briefed before she visited on Sky’s background. His social worker had been having trouble setting him up with a home where he’d stay for longer than a week or so, and in a last ditch effort had asked Time and Malon, with their long track record of housing troubled and unhousable youths, if they could take one more. They agreed.

Sky apparently had a friend, a bit of a troublemaker if Lullaby guessed correctly, who had gotten the two arrested. Time mentioned the event had Sky concerned about being ‘too much trouble’ and that ‘they’d get rid of him too’ or something. Time said this was ridiculous, as Sky caused him the least amount of trouble, but the boy was concerned about being thrown away again. He apparently had a few self-worth issues.

Lullaby found him on the back porch talking to the birds. Not in any human language, mind you, and Lullaby spoke many, but cooing and chirping back at them. He seemed very happy and at ease like that, singing at the birds.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked in a whisper during a pause in the conversation.

Sky jumped, eyes wide, and he squirmed a little when he saw her. “Uh, sure, I guess,”

She sat on the other end of the bench next to him, and calmly went back to watching the birds, and him interacting with them. He seemed much more at ease here than he did with people.

“Did you need something?” He asked, after a while, letting a blue jay grab a peanut from his hand.

“Not specifically,” she shook her head. “I had wanted to meet you, but nothing else,”

He blinked at her a little dumbly.

“Why would you want to meet me?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked back, not sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly special. And, it’s not like I’m staying,”

“I think you’re pretty special, most people can’t get birds to land on their hands like that,” Lullaby said gently, not liking how he spoke about himself. “And why would you think you aren’t staying?”

“I never stay,” he admitted, turning his eyes back to the birds, frowning. “No one ever considers me worth the effort,”

“You are very much worth the effort,” Lullaby countered, trying her best to keep her face soft instead of pinching up. “Trust me, however much effort you are, it is nowhere near the level of your brothers. Time wouldn’t have taken you in if he didn’t want you,”

“He’s just doing Impa a favour,” he said glumly, offering up more birdseed to the birds. “I won’t be staying forever,”

“I’m sure my brother has explained why that’s bullshit,” Lullaby said bluntly.

“But, I got arrested,” he mumbled.

“So have three of your brothers,” Lullaby pointed out. “Regularly. For much worse things. I promise you, that is not an issue,”

“But,”

“If you are going to say something bad about yourself again then I’m telling you right now I’m not going to listen to it,” Lullaby cut him off. “Time has told me a lot about you, and all of it is how much he loves you,”

“Really?” Sky looked up at her.

“You cause him the least amount of headaches of all his sons,” Lullaby smiled. “He adores you,”

Sky turned away, clearly trying to think that over.

“How about you tell me more about the things you enjoy doing,” Lullaby suggested.

“Huh?” Sky asked, turning back to her.

“I’d like to get to know more about what makes my nephew happy,” she smiled.

“Why?”

“Well, I’d be a bad aunt if I didn’t, especially since you’ll be sticking around,”

Sky looked like he didn’t believe her, but told her about his woodcarving anyways.

Lullaby was happy that as time went on Sky became less skittish and self-deprecating. He was a sweet kid, and as he got more comfortable and confident more of his true colours started showing through.

She felt a bit bad for Time, though. Apparently he was as prone to chaos as his brothers, he was just more subtle about it.

Time brought it on himself though. He should have known this when he adopted six boys.

(---)

The call about the next son had Lullaby’s head hitting her kitchen table, groaning loudly even when Ruto came to check on her.

Wild found a boy in the woods and they’d decided to keep him.

This was getting to be just a bit too much.

When Sheik and Ruto got to meet the boy, they were a bit taken aback. They had expected another Wild.

What they got was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself. He was a bit shy, but he seemed to open up a bit more around Wild and, amusingly, Legend. He was a bit jumpy, but considering they had no idea how long he was in the woods that was expected.

What was surprising them most was that he did actually have a mother, who loved him very much, but who was very sick and so wasn’t able to actually take care of him, thus the wandering in the woods. His mother had been very worried, but physically unable to look. She had asked family to check but they gave up pretty quickly.

In light of her family being horrible for taking care of her son, and not knowing if she’d survive her illness, she asked Malon and Time if they could take care of her son for her since she clearly couldn’t trust her relatives and the boy’s father had abandoned them the moment she decided to keep him.

Time and Malon had taken one look at the boy and their sons, and agreed. They worked out an arrangement to keep the boy’s mother in the loop, and then they called Rauru. After which Time called his sibling.

This boy’s name was also Link. Sheik did not feel bad about laughing. Really, his brother had the weirdest luck.

They, for some reason, decided his nickname would be Hyrule. Why they decided to name him after the country, Sheik didn’t know. Apparently it was the only nickname he liked.

He had trouble reading, but he liked learning, especially if he could use what he learned to help people.

He fit right in, which made Sheik wonder exactly when his brother was going to stop adopting. He hoped it was before the ranch house ran out of room.

(---)

Eight. He stopped at eight.

Which was still too many, in Sheik’s opinion, but whatever.

The newest hellraiser at least didn’t come from the streets like almost all of the others.

This Link (because yes, his name was Link too) had recently lost his parents and his grandmother couldn’t financially support both him and his sister. So Time and Malon agreed to take care of him for her. The rest of their sons all acquired a grandma as well, it seemed.

They nicknamed him Wind, and he immediately latched onto his older brothers and started giving his new parents headaches.

When Lullaby and Ruto showed up next, she felt no sympathy for her brother. He brought this on himself.

She was more than a little pissed off when the brat stole her wallet though. Damn thief.

Time assured her that they’d talk to him about it. Lullaby wasn’t sure that’d help.

But, she reasoned, despite the chaos, Time was happy. Practically giddy. He lit up whenever he spoke about his sons, and he clearly loved them dearly.

Hylia had granted his wish for a family. She maybe went a bit overboard, but as long as Time was happy, so was Lullaby.

(---)

She wasn’t commenting on the ninth kid. She refused.

At least his name wasn’t ‘Link’.

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