#but seeing someone my age sends a shiver down my spine bc that could be mee thankfully not but shits soo scary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spikesbimbo · 3 years

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Paring: Aone x f!reader

Summary: wet dream, or not?

Tags: dilf!aone, housewife!reader, sleepy late night sex, spooning, daddy kink, soft sweet sex, creampie,

wc: 1.6k

a/n: Aone is 38, reader is 24 bc i said so

part of the dilf collab

18+ minors dni

“Thank you honey.” he muttered, wiping the sweat of his forehead, wanting to kiss those lips of yours so bad, but not wanting to get your precious skin dirty, and the way his coworkers were looking at the two of you meant he already had it coming.

Wondering how he got such a pretty thing, knowing you had to be at least half his age. Your pretty smile brightening the area around you as you clung onto his arm, having no shame in your affection for him. The constant teasing was worth it though if it meant he got to come home to you every night.

Grabbing the lunch out of your hands that he forgot this morning after you gave him a ‘good morning kiss’ before he left. Calling him saying you would bring it to him after seeing the box wrapped in the fabric laying on the counter, convincing him instead of buying snacks from the convenience store.

Your sundress blowing in the wind that must feel so good to him right now, not wanting his eyes to leave you as you unfortunately had to go. Looking at the scruff on his face after not shaving this morning because you made him run late, the way his arms barely fit around his white shirt, the soft smile he gave you as his fingers were tracing your hand had you swooning.

Muttering out a quick thank you again as he was about to turn around before you got on your toes meeting his lips with yours, seeing that they were minding their own business now, just wanting some affection from your husband as earlier wasn't enough.

Catching him off guard as he gave in, a tint appearing on his cheeks, not embarrassed, never because of you, but because of him. The fact that your pretty little self was with him had people turning their heads, purposely going out of your way to show everyone the ring on your left hand. Being so proud that you had him, as he was with you.

Giggling as you left him there frozen, blowing him a kiss as you started walking away. The wind feeling cool on your skin as you walked home, mind still racing with him like he was the only thing you knew.

__________________

Resting your head on the pillow, legs propped up on the couch, eating the takeout after he texted you he'd be home late so you didn't have to worry about him. Heart slightly cracking when you read the words, understanding as you knew his job had weird hours, this not being the first time it's happened.

Eyes getting heavy as you watched the tv under the dim lights, the food growing cold as you haven't touched it in a while, resting on the table beside the vase of flowers he got you the other day. Head hurting as you laid down, eyes quickly closing after being tired doing nothing but waiting for him all day, vision quickly growing black.

Waking up to your husband's touch, shifting in his hold as he carried you to the bedroom. Laying you down as he changed his clothes, quickly getting into bed with you. Your warm weight clinging onto him as a natural instinct, letting out a quiet groan as you realized you were snuggling into his chest, turning your face up while blinking slowly at him.

“What time is it?” You asked uncurling yourself from him.

“9:14.”

“You just got here?” You asked, missing the usual “Honey, I’m home.” as you were knocked out.

He knew you were gonna worry about him, as your sweet self did. Whispering softly into your ear as his hands wandered down to your sides, soothingly rubbing them trying to get you to go back to sleep. “Yeah...i just got back.”

The pout of your face said enough as you moved yourself up to be face to face with him. “You need to take a break baby. c'mere”

Pulling him into your chest, sighing as he let you. Thinking it was cute to be scolded by someone whose face was still puffy from just waking up. Slightly smiling as you refused to move your arms even though he could easily get out.

“You okay, shoulders hurt?” you asked running your fingers through his stress induced graying hair, only being able to tell up close due to the white hiding it. Massaging his temples, relaxing his muscles as the embedded frown on his face disappeared.

“Yeah, the usual.”

Mumbling out “shouldn't be” under your breath as your arms brought him closer into you, wrapping your legs sound his waist, using him like the teddy bear he was. Eyes quickly falling shut at the feeling of his arms engulfing you, running his fingers down your back.

Your senses are hyper aware, sensitive at the slightest touch. Almost overwhelming as your half awake brain takes its time to feel everything. His chest rising against your back, a mewl escaping your lips, shivering at the ghost of his touch.

Unknowingly rolling your hips into his slack body, minding racing with thoughts of him pushing your ankles to your ears. The feeling is unbearable – pussy clenching as you tighten your thighs, an audible whine breaking you out of your trance, along with him.

“You need me love?” his voice hoarse with sleep muttered out. To be honest he was awake at your first movement, still resting his eyes knowing that you move around when you sleep, but when he heard you let out muffled whines he felt awful knowing that he was the cause.

“Y-yea, i-m’sorry daddy” your pitiful voice breaks his heart, so needy that his name didn't even exist in your mind anymore. His brain all foggy trying to formulate a sentence.

“Daddy ain't been payin enough attention to you to the point of you dreaming about it? M’sorry baby” he cooed sliding up his shirt off your waist, tugging your panites down, feeling needier as ever as you rocked your hips.

“M-m’sorry” you whimpered out, ashamed that you greedily woke him up just for your own need, hiding your face in the pillow as his fingers worked their way down to your poor little cunt, so neglected. Your fingers feeling nothing like his cock.

“Shh baby, s’okay let daddy take care of you.” his hot breath whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine while catching your made up protests with his fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit. “S’my job honey.”

His big frame resting behind you put you at ease as his arm resting under you wrapped its way around your waist, pushing up the shirt even more. Calloused warm hands resting on your tummy as his sleepy eyelashes fluttered on your neck.

“n-nobu… please…” you begged, bit-down nails scratching at his forearm, body working against your mind as you tried to push his hand away.

His voice was raspy as he groaned, giving you what you wanted, never being able to tell his baby no. Warm hands picking up your thigh enough to slide himself in, your lips parting, whimpers coming out as he pulled you down on his cock.

“Here, Baby. It’s okay… just relax…” he softly groaned as you complied, not wanting to upset him. Letting your body be limp as he started to rock his hips back and forth,

“There's my good girl, lemme do the work, okay sweetheart? You did such a good job, let daddy take over.” He mumbled into your shoulder as his arm wrapped around you tighter, pulling you to his chest.

Eyes opening fully, the dim alarm light shining on your body covered in a sheen of sweat. You loved how easily he could make you feel good, even on the verge of sleep, warm and quiet in the early hours of the morning. All it took was him mumbling out some praise and the feeling of your cervix getting gently bruised to cum.

“That’s it, baby, god you’re so tight…..I’m gonna cum, love.”

Moving faster as your shared orgasm built, his balls swelling as you tightened around him, panting out. Tongue lolling as silent moans left your mouth, clenching around him more as further around him as he chased your pleasure.

“Y-yeah… fuck… I’m g- gonna, cum, please… nobu. d-daddy please.” you begged, voice cracking as moans interrupted your words.

The feeling of his heat against your back, being completely helpless at his pace, taking him further and further to his release. Vision going black as your eyes rolled back, body shaking as he thrust himself deeper, pleasure overtaking your body as his cum was fucked into you, gasps escaping your mouth. Your body tingling as he finally let you come down from your high.

The weight of your leaning on his arm, the softness of your skin as he rested his head there. Nothing bothering him if you were in his arms, not feeling this at ease in almost a month, the only thing that mattered was cradled against his body.

“You’re good baby. S’okay, just relax now.”

A small hum left your lips as you pushed yourself into him more. Feeling so comfy and safe here, relaxed against his bare chest, his thick cock stretching you out even soft. Letting yourself relax in his hold as you collapsed next to him.

The room is quiet besides your small breaths growing fainter, the wet sound of his lips against your shoulder, feeling his messy hair tickle you. Your eyes are closed but his aren't, looking at you with a faded look of fondness, head curling into your neck.

He felt the moment you passed out again, your chest rising lighter. Worn out, all the tension drained from you what little tension had remained in him. The only way he could fully rest was with you in his arms, curling into him as he held you tight, nothing was even worth thinking of besides you.

#ok bby boy aone is my love 🥺#aone x reader #aone smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu x y/n #aone drabble #hq smut #haikyuu!!

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deliasqueen · 3 years

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Soulmate Alphabet

Summary: So this is soulmate headcannons, but through the alphabet.

Character: F!ReaderxCordelia Goode

A/N: I am so excited for this. XD I hope y’all like this, and I really want to do it with all of sarah’s ahs characters so please let me know. :) Also big shoutout to @winters-witch-bitch for giving me motivation bc this would have never been completed.

aging (stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together)

You were 15 when you met Cordelia. Your parents had dropped you off at the academy to learn how to use your magic. You both felt this strange connection to each other, but neither ever mentioned it. Cordelia being a year older, had her 18th birthday first. The day of everyone teased her because this could be her last birthday for a very long time. You two had grown very close in the time but you were both too scared to bring up the soulmate topic. The next year Cordelia realized she was still aging, so confusion filled her. Everyone at the academy immediately looked at you. Realization shot through you so with this huge amount of courage you grabbed Cordelia and kissed her in front of the teachers and students. Immediately you both knew you were each other’s soulmates. All the students, and Myrtle, started cheering and a few girls started passing around money because they had started a bet that you two were each other’s soulmates.

body art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin)

One Saturday, you were relaxing watching a movie on your couch. You were reaching into your snack bowl when you saw a blooming flower tattoo appear on your wrist. At first you were a little panicked but quickly realized it was from your soulmate getting the tattoo.

For Cordelia, you have always been the type to do random doodles on your skin with a marker or pen, so as Cordelia would be teaching random stars, flowers, and hearts would appear on her skin. The girls would always tease her about it saying things like, “Oooo someone has a future Van Gogh.”

colors (aka the standard soulmate au where the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate and see colors)

You had seen the video Cordelia made about recruiting witches, so you decided to head to New Orleans. You went because you were a witch who could definitely use some guidance but there was also something about her that just drew you in. When you did get to the academy, you were walking into her office when you both made eye contact. Immediately something in the air shifted. You both cringed at the splitting headache that came with finally seeing color. The beauty of color rushed both of your visions, and then the realization that you two were soulmates hit. An awkward excitement filled the room because you two realized you finally found your person.

damage (done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body-cuts, bruises, and all)

When Cordelia got attacked by the witch hunter, it was bad for both of you. You were at the mall with your best friend when Cordelia was attacked. The second the hunter threw the acid on her, you felt it too. You had fallen to your knees and cried out, similar to Cordelia. Your best friend immediately panicked and called for help. When you got to the hospital, they told you that it was because your soulmate was attacked with acid. The fact that your soulmate got acid thrown in her face was concerning, but once you two were together you understood what had happened, and it broke Cordelia’s heart that you got so hurt too.

Being a skater, you were constantly falling and getting scrapes and bruises. Cordelia would wake up and find random bruises and scrapes on her shins and elbows. It always made her so curious as to what you were doing.

empathy (soulmates can sense one another’s presence and feel each other’s exact emotions even when miles away)

One time when your mind was being especially awful, Cordelia could feel it too. Cordelia has dealt with similar feelings, but she knew it was more than her own mind. It would always make her heart hurt knowing her soulmate was out there hurting and she couldn’t comfort you.

first (the first thoughts your soulmate thinks when seeing you are written on your skin)

When you had first met at the coven, the first thing Cordelia thought when she truly looked at you was, “This gorgeous woman is my soulmate.” So that was what appeared on your ribcage, and honestly you loved it so much. The first thing you thought when you looked at Cordelia was, “Holy shit this lady is mine.” So whenever you see that on Cordelia you cringe, blush, and want to hide, but Cordelia will always laugh and tell you how much she loves it.

guardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)

A couple days before your interview at the academy, you were walking down Bourbon Street in the evening. You were exploring the city when a drunk driver ran a red light, unbeknownst to both of you who you two were, Cordelia had used her powers to swerve the car around you. You looked around in shock but couldn’t figure out who did it. Cordelia just saw someone about to get hurt, so she saved you. When you two had realized you were the two in that situation, everything made a little more sense about your love.

heartbeats (the soulmates share the same heartbeat—when one feels panicked, shocked, etc., the other can feel it too)

When Cordelia had lost Misty and was panicking trying to find her, you were too. You were at work when the panic hit. The previous week you had been feeling uneasy, but it was never too bad. You were talking to your boss when suddenly your chest felt tight and extreme worry clouded your mind. Your boss had grabbed a chair for you to sit in, but she was thoroughly confused as to what was happening. Once you had gotten your emotions in check, you had to awkwardly explain to your boss why you just started sweating and panicking from practically nothing.

identifier (a word or symbol which is imputed to your soulmate is somewhere on your body)

You have a pentagram on your wrist that you had gotten from your grandmother. Cordelia had always had one on her back by her left hip, but she never knew why she had it until she met you. She had always assumed that it was from her soulmate, so it made her think that you were a witch or had some sort of magical ability.

juxtaposition (your soulmate is the exact opposite of you, yet you find yourselves complementing one another)

Cordelia is a responsible, powerful, confident, soft spoken, methodical, put together leader while you are this free spirited, shy, anxious, loud artistic mess. While you can be self-deprecating comparing your differences, Cordelia always stops you and tells you how much she loves your talents, mind, and personality. You two really challenge each other sometimes with the drastically different personalities, but it is one of the ways your relationship is constantly growing.

keys (and locks are randomly dispersed to soulmates on chains when they are born. when in proximity, the lock and key will act as magnets and bring the two soulmates closer together until the key is placed in the lock and a gratifying click is heard, unlocking the chain)

You were sitting in a little café in the French Quarter enjoying a coffee when you felt your seat move. You had started to be pulled closer to the front of the café when you realized what was happening. Excitement and nervousness filled you as you were trying to guess who your soulmate is. You had finally been pulled to the door when Cordelia’s key was inserted into your lock. Instantly you pulled her into a hug and melted into her arms. You were completely blown away by her beauty and so incredibly excited to have found your soulmate.

last (the last words your soulmate says are written on your skin)

Prior to Mallory resetting the timeline, Cordelia had died. You wanted to stay back with Madison and help distract Michael, but Cordelia wouldn’t let you. She wanted you with her, so you went with her, Myrtle, and Mallory into the room with the tub. Cordelia didn’t want you to watch her die, so she had used her magic to hold you in the room with the other two witches. You were panicking because you didn’t want her to die but you couldn’t beak her hold. Myrtle had told you it was no use fighting it, so you just accepted it and fell limp in her magical hold. As you were sobbing, the hold broke and suddenly words appeared on your arm as Myrtle cried out Cordelia’s name. You looked down to see “Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion motherfucker” written onto your right arm.

marks (marks or stains of the color black are somewhere on your body (palm of your hand, knuckles, knee) until you and your soulmate finally make physical contact. once the mark is touched, it fades to be consistent with the person’s skin color)

You always had this black smear on the palm of your hand; it looked like you rubbed your palm with black acrylic paint. People with less visible marks loved to point it out, so you were ready to get rid of it. Once you had met Cordelia you immediately took her hand in yours, and when you pulled away the mark had faded to match the rest of your hand.

Cordelia’s mark was on her shoulder. So later on in your relationship when you two had started to love and trust each other, she had asked you to touch it. You ran your hand over her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. As soon as you lifted your hand, the mark had faded away, being replaced with the color of her pale skin.

nurse (the touch of a soulmate can heal you from affliction and vice versa)

Even though you were both witches, when one got hurt you two didn’t need to use magic. Because Cordelia is the Supreme, she only ever got headaches, nothing like papercuts or bruised knees from banging into a table. So whenever she isn’t feeling well, you have her lay her head in your lap and you rub her head and lightly comb your fingers through her hair. This always makes her headaches go away and leaves you with a very sleepy girlfriend.

In your case, being as clumsy as you are, Cordelia is constantly having to come find you to heal your wounds. Whether it’s a broken beaker in the greenhouse that cut your hand, or you burned yourself practicing pyrokinesis, Cordelia always rushes to your side to heal you. The girls think it’s ridiculous because any one of them can heal you immediately with their powers, but you only want Delia to heal you.

opportune outfit (soulmates will eternally color coordinate, even if they have not met one another yet, and often times have similar patterns in their clothing)

You and Cordelia have always worn white, black, light pink, and navy-blue colored outfits. Sometimes you would both wear a floral print outfit. Once you had moved into the academy, you two were adding your clothes into her closet. You both quickly realized how similar your outfits were. It was like looking at the same aesthetic board twice. While you aren’t really big on dresses, your button up shirts matched her dresses. Your favorite outfit to match with Delia was her light pink blouse and your light pink button up. Loving fashion, you are always so happy to see your similar outfits.

passion (when soulmates meet, one of their passions blend into the other person)

You had soon realized after meeting Cordelia you had this intense need to garden. Never being the flower type, usually the one who can’t keep a plant alive if it was your last job on Earth, this was really confusing at first. Then you quickly realized it was because of Cordelia. You told her about it and her eyes lit up with joy. She rapidly transmutated the both of you to the greenhouse, and you spent the entire evening learning about flowers, spells, and different ways to tend to the plants. Now you two spend your time in the greenhouse together tending to the different greenery.

One day when Cordelia was in her office, she got this sudden urge to paint. It wasn’t just a little oh I want to paint someday, it was an I need to paint a huge canvas right now. So she went to find you, and to her luck, you were working on a painting. She had walked up to you and wrapped her arms around your waist, “Hey baby can you show me how to do that?” You were a bit taken aback by her question, but you would never deny her of anything especially something you love, so you showed her. You put the paintbrush in her hand and guided her wrist around the canvas. The painting hangs above the fireplace in your bedroom, and every Friday evening you paint together.

quizzes (revolving around one’s personal aspects, skills and ambitions are given to every person once they turn 18, and the results read who your soulmate is based off of your collective answers)

You had answered your quiz with your life goals, hobbies, interests, knowledge, and general information about you. You knew how the quizzes work; you get your soulmate based off opposite answers. Like people always say, opposites attract. You had turned your quiz in over mail a few days after your 18th birthday. About a week later you got a letter in the mail with the name Cordelia Goode and how to contact her. A few days later you had finally built up the courage to reach out to her. A part of you was hesitant because she hadn’t reached out to you either, but you just settled on the fact that she was nervous. Once you had called her, you were so happy you did. Your assumption that she was nervous was correct, she was shy and you found it cute. You two had hit it off, so you both planned on meeting up later in the month.

red string (bonds two soulmates together for a lifetime and all come in varying lengths—imagine the trouble of only being able to walk certain distances or having to sleep on the edge of your bed)

You had always wanted to travel to the other end of your string. Your parents had told you not until you turned 18, so the day it finally came you were over the moon. You could never travel too far west, so you knew you had to go east. The week after your 18th birthday you set out on the road. The most exciting part to you was she could be anywhere. After hours of driving, you finally ended up in New Orleans. The string didn’t have too much tension, so you knew you were getting closer to her. You followed it until you landed at Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. You were extremely excited and unbelievably nervous to just walk in there. You realized how your soulmate might not be ready for this, but it was too late to turn back now. Cordelia had realized her string was becoming less tense by the hour, so she knew you were coming. She was nervous because she wasn’t prepared at all. She had spent the few hours she had getting as dressed up as she could, like she was preparing for a date. You finally gathered the courage to walk up to the door and knock. Cordelia knew it was you at the door so she transmutated downstairs to get the door before anyone else could. Once the door was open, you realized this beautiful girl in front of you was the other end of your string, and you were already so in love.

songbird (any songs a person sings will get stuck in their soulmate’s head for the duration they decide to sing it)

There was this one month in particular where you had WAP by Cardi B stuck in your head. Much to Cordelia’s displeasure may I add. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it because it was a woman singing it, it was just too vulgar for her taste. Cordelia is a very proper woman, so constantly hearing the lyrics of WAP in her head when she was teaching or in a meeting with other witches was distracting to say the least. For a few nights she made you sleep on the couch because she wanted the song out of your head. But being real, you found it hilarious.

For you, whenever Cordelia was working on paperwork or taking a shower, she always lowly sings Fleetwood Mac songs. So you would be going about your day when suddenly Rhiannon or Never Make Me Cry was playing in your head. It always warmed your heart to know Cordelia was in a good mood.

timers (are set on the wrist of every person once they are a certain age, slowly counting down until the day they meet their soulmate)

On Cordelia’s 30th birthday a watch was set on her wrist, and it read 730 days. It filled her with hope she was beginning to lose. Even though 30 is not old, she felt as if she was running out of time to be with her soulmate. Once the watch had hit seven days, she was so incredibly excited to meet you it was becoming a distraction. She was slacking off at work because she was too busy imagining your meeting. Once the day had come, she didn’t know what to do. She was stressing out in her office when Zoe asked her to run into town with her. Little did Cordelia know she would quite literally run into you at the grocery store.

undying (you and your soulmate must meet in order to end life—die—together. as long as you have not met them, you will continue aging yet remain immortal)

You had lived your entire life believing you were never going to be able to die. You have seen the lost people who wander, hundreds of years old not able to get the sweet relief of death because they haven’t found their soulmate. One day you met this beautiful witch in Los Angeles. You were both there traveling, and something about her just lit a fire inside of you. This fire that was fueled by the want to know everything about her. You two had exchanged numbers and kept in touch after you both went home. Soon after, you realized how much you missed her, and you knew you needed to be with her. You booked a one-way flight to New Orleans, and never looked back. You knew she was the woman you were going to go out with.

valiant (when one person is in danger the other will do anything to protect them)

One day you were partying with Madison when a guy tried to force himself onto you. Immediately Cordelia knew you were uncomfortable, so she transmutated to where you were. The second she saw you she protectively wrapped her arms around you and asked if you were ok. After reassuring her you were, she smashed a glass on the guy’s head with her powers and pulled you out of there.

writer’s choice (do whatever you want)

I feel like Cordelia would be the type to get dolled up and ready for her soulmate. She would be the type to be so unbelievably happy to have her soulmate. I picture her as a complete romantic type, so I feel like she would give her soulmate flowers and jewelry. She would of course be cautious because of the safety of her girls, but let’s be honest, Cordelia would immediately be head over heels for her soulmate.

xtra (add on to a previous headcannon)

One day you were walking out to the greenhouse because Mallory had wanted to work on some incantations. When you got about halfway there, the words “Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion motherfucker” appeared on the inside of your right arm. Thoroughly confused, you asked Mallory what the hell just happened. Worry rapidly shot through Mallory when she saw your arm, and she ran to see where Cordelia was. Now you were lowkey panicking because Mallory got freaked out and went looking for your girlfriend. You ran after her and found her in Cordelia’s office. Mallory then had to very awkwardly explain the old timeline because Cordelia was not letting up, she wanted to know the truth. As Mallory told the stories, everything started to come back to you and Cordelia. Tears had pooled in your eyes because you remembered the fear of when Cordelia had died. But at the same time you realized that you all saved the world.

yellow fellow (colors of your vision changes depending on your soulmates mood. yellow is optimistic, green is envious, blue is upset, etc.)

One night you and the girls had convinced Cordelia to go to a club with you all. You went to the bar to get drinks when this lady in a very revealing dress started talking to you. You two were talking, but you thought it was innocent. She had put her hand on your forearm when your vision turned green. Almost choking, you decided to toy with Cordelia. You kept talking and did the signature laugh, look up and down while you flip your hair back. At that moment you knew you went too far because the green switched to red. That night Cordelia definitely made sure to let you know to never do that again.

zzz (in which soulmates first meet each other and share memories in their dreams before meeting each other in person—sometimes difficult to accomplish as dreams are hard to remember)

You had always seen this blonde woman in your dreams. She was always wearing a flowy, white dress, and she was surrounded by beautiful flowers. You could never make out her face, but she had this magic glow to her. You knew you had to find this woman; you just didn’t know how. One day you were watching the news when Cordelia Goode made it public that she ran a school for witches. The moment you saw her, it was like the dream came to life. You knew exactly where you had to go. You and Cordelia loved to talk about the dreams you two had had of each other before meeting.

Taglist: @sapphicsarahpaulson @winters-witch-bitch

#cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #ahs x reader #ahs #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven #soulmate #soulmate au

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mistaeq · 4 years

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can I request a kakyoin x reader oneshot where the reader has some trouble sleeping bc theyre a night owl? tysm!! 💕

Kakyoin Noriaki: Emeralds and Cherries

TW // Kakyoin doesn't rerorerorero

Thank you for your request! Hope you enjoy!

Where Kakyoin and a night owl crush on each other while they can't sleep, Hierophant Green is a dick, neutral!s/o

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

You were growing kinda nervous. You were used to not sleeping entire nights, but you would have needed to, this time. The next day you would have had to go through the desert, and with no sleep you probaby would faint on the golden sand. The crusaders had been sharing a nervous mood as well, recently, and you could totally feel it on your shoulders.

You sat up on your hotel bed, and tried to drink a glass of water in a breath. But that didn't do any better. You just weren't able to feel sleepy, but if you didn't sleep, the crusaders would probably get angry at you for wanting to rest in the middle of the desert. You soon realized you needed someone to lull you with his voice to sleep, or maybe talk together. You walked to the crusaders' rooms, and just stared at them.

You walked past Joseph's door. He's in shape, for his age, but he's still the oldest one, better not wake him up. You look at Jotaro's door, and the menacing aura coming from it sends shivers down your spine. Waking Jotaro up means dying. He would totally comfort you, but you would die out of awkwardness.

You walk past an empty room. Joseph had mistakenly booked six rooms, for the five of you and for Avdol. You missed Avdol. Jotaro said he was safe and sound, and that he would have joined you again soon, but you didn't agree with their choice of not telling Polnareff. The poor french boy had been so restless, blaming himself for Avdol's "death", that when you walked past his room and finally heard him peacefully snoring, you decided not to wake him up. He needed those hours of good sleep.

The only one left was Kakyoin. In your mind, Kakyoin was just perfect. Not too rude, not too cheesy, always ready to listen to what you had to say. You were just about to knock at his door, when a voice stopped you.

"May I help you, y/n?" you got startled, and turned quickly around just to see Noriaki, right in front of you, with a pillow in his arms.

"Yes... maybe... what are you doing?" you asked, giggling a little. He just looked so adorable. He yawned, his cheeks the same color of a sweet cherry, and then got closer to open his room's door.

"I went downstairs to ask for a bigger pillow... I need to be comfy if I want to sleep well..." before closing the door behind himself, he kinda remembered you had told him you needed help. "Oh... how can I help you?"

"I'm having... a little trouble sleeping... So I was wondering if you could..." you got shy, all of a sudden, and felt as if you were annoying him. He just said he went to ask for a new pillow to sleep well, you would have just kept him awake for no reason. "...uhm... nevermind, Noriaki... I'll just go back to my roo-" as soon as you moved a step away from Kakyoin's door, his hand grabbed a wrist of yours.

"Sleep with me... maybe?" he offered, with a sleepy smile. Did he really ask you to...? But he looked so tired...

"Noriaki... thank you for asking, but I really think..."

"When I said maybe, I didn't mean it." Kakyoin pulled you closer. "I was telling you to sleep with me." you wanted to accept and to refuse at the same time. But you understood he wouldn't have let you go without being sure you were okay, so you had no other choice.

"If you say so..." you started to believe you were crushing on Kakyoin. When his hand moved from your wrist to your own hand to pull you into his hotel room, you felt your heart jump and beat a little faster. He was handsome, cute and caring. After you closed the door, he invited you to sit on his bed with him. But you didn't. Not immediately.

"Would you like a glass of water? To calm you down?" as nervous as you were, drinking another glass of water would have only make you throw up. You shook your head.

"Thank you so much Noriaki... but my stomach is kinda dancing in my belly right now... it's better for me not to eat or drink anything..." he grew a little bit more worried.

"Sit, y/n..." he patted right on the bed, next to him.

"But it's your bed, Nori..." again, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on his bed, smiling. "I'll sleep on the floor tonight, I promise, I just need some company..."

"What? No, we'll share the bed! I can't see my name written anywhere on this bed... looks like it's not mine." he joked, to make you at ease. You smiled. His hair weren't the same as always. The huge lock of cherry-colored hair that usually fell on his forehead now mingled with other hair. You found him incredibly attractive and cute. "Tell me what keeps you up at night." he asked.

"I'm just... used to going to sleep really late... so when I have to sleep this early, I just... can't, and this makes me mad..." you felt Noriaki caressing with his thumb the hand he had grabbed to pull you on his bed, and your heart jumped again. "I don't want Jotaro or mr. Joestar to get angry at me for this... I have to sleep, or tomorrow I'll faint..."

He quietly giggled.

"I'll be there to catch you, then." his answer reassured you. "I've been restless many nights, but... had no time to feel tired, during the day. Everything was just so fast, an enemy stand user everyday... and probably tomorrow won't be any different." he stayed silent for a couple of seconds, staring at his thumb caressing your hand. Then, talked again. "Let's play a game."

"A game? Shouldn't we be sleeping?" he sticked his hand under his pillow. And pulled out cherry flavored Pockys. That game?

"No, if we're not tired. Sometimes doing something you enjoy to relax is way better than just sleeping." Kakyoin smiled. "Also ...if you're wondering why do I have Pockys under my pillow, it's because I get often hungry, during the night." you laughed. But your cheeks were probably as red as his hair. Did he really want to play that game?

"Y/n, you don't have to go far enough to touch my lips, if you don't feel comfortable... I'm just looking for an excuse to eat something and have fun at the same time." oh. Clear. Not that he liked you. But you lowkey wanted to taste his lips. Now that you felt calm enough to eat something without throwing up, playing with Kakyoin looked like the perfect thing to do. "May I get the chocolate end of the Pocky? You know I love cherries..."

As soon as he put a Pocky between you, you felt a laugh creeping up your shoulder, and after a couple of seconds of biting, you giggled, leaving the Pocky hanging from Kakyoin's lips. "Thank you..." he giggled too, happily eating the whole Pocky left. "Let's try again?"

You tried a couple of other times, and everytime you managed to get closer to his lips. You couldn't see it well, because of the shadow of the night, but you were kinda sure that Kakyoin was staring at you. In a particular way. The fourth time you started to bite on the ends of the Pocky, you felt a shadow moving behind you. Maybe it was just the shadow of you and Noriaki moving, so you stopped thinking about it. There were a couple centimetres of Pocky, between you.

You had to decide whether to break it or keep on biting and touch Kakyoin's lips. He seemed to think about it too.

But Hierophant Green perfectly knew what its user wanted. You felt something pushing you towards Noriaki, your lips slammed against his. He flinched, not expecting his own stand to betray him and expose his true feelings like that. But as he felt you were actually kissing him, he couldn't help but kiss you back. You felt your cheeks burning.

You and Kakyoin were now involved in a sweet cherry flavored chocolate kiss, the man pulling you closer. First he pulled you in his room. Then he pulled you on his bed. And now he was pulling you on his lips. Things escalated fast, but you were incredibly grateful for this. Noriaki broke the kiss for a second, cupping your cheek with his hand.

"Do you still want to sleep on the floor?" he teased, smiling and caressing your lips with his thumb. He was kinda grateful Hierophant Green exposed him, now. You shook your head. You just wanted to melt into Noriaki's arms, they felt so warm and good. "I might enjoy having you sleeping on my chest."

"I'd love to..." you blushed, as he lay down on the bed pulling you with him.

You ran a hand on his chest, his pajamas was slightly opened. "How long have you had feelings for me, Kakyoin Noriaki?" you suddenly felt twice more comfortable with sleeping next to him.

"I started to fall in love since that time when you refused to let me eat you ice cream's cherry..." he pushed his thumb under your chin, his arm around you shoulders, for you to look at him. "I just thought you had a lot of courage..." Noriaki laughed.

"I like cherries, it's unfair that you always get to eat them first..." you caressed his red hair, and cupped his cheek. "I love cherries..." you both stayed still, staring into each other's eyes, your breath and heartbeats going at the same pace, and- "I don't want to hurry you or something, Nori, but this is the part where you kiss me again."

"O-Oh, sorry..." he smiled and stopped daydreaming, pushing his lips against yours. His tongue pushed against your lower lip, asking you permission to have some more.

You parted your lips a bit, letting his tongue explore your mouth, his hands gently caressing your hair and your back. A thought ran through your mind for a second, and you laughed in your kiss. "What...?" without even knowing what it was, Noriaki smiled, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"I think our voices' volume is a little too high... wouldn't it be funny if we had woken Jotaro up and suddenly Star Platin-"

"ORA" a purple giant fist broke through the door, Star Platinum coming at you with a menacing aura. You were just... joking. Did you actually wake Jotaro up? You hid behind Kakyoin, Jotaro's stand was terrifying, as it approached. The green boy kept you behind him, but he was sure Star Platinum wouldn't have hurt them.

In fact, the purple stand opened his fist to reveal a little note, which Noriaki took, just before Star Platinum's disappearing.

"Congratulations, lovebirds. Now shut the fuck up, will you? People are sleeping. I am people. - Kujo Jotaro"

Your lover huffed, and answered the note.

"Fuck you. Sleep well. ~Kakyoin Noriaki" You giggled, hugging him from behing while he gave the note to Hierophant Green, to bring it to Jotaro. You snuggled against his back, and yawned.

"You tired, cherry?" you heart jumped and raced. You were his cherry, weren't you. You nodded, watching him laying and pulling you on his warm chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and your head was right on his heart. "Y/n... would you enjoy it if I sang you a lullaby?"

"I would love it..." you mumbled, closing your eyes and listening to Kakyoin's calm breathe. He inhaled.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little stand..." was he changing the lyrics now? You held him closer and giggled. "...how I wonder what you are. Up above The World so high, like a Crazy Diamond in the sky~" you felt your whole body relax under the effect of Noriaki's soothing voice. He was stroking your hair. "Then the crusader in the dark, thanks you for your tiny stand, how could he see where to go, if you did not twinkle so..?"

After a couple of verses, you were already sleeping tight on his comfy chest, your little body wrapped around his. Kakyoin was just so happy, he looked at you another time, before closing his eyes too. The next day you had to go through the desert.

Unfortunately, the next day would have been a bad day, for his eyesight. But he couldn't know. So he just enjoyed you the night before.

"I love you, cherry."

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo oneshot #jojo x reader #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #hierophant green

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

Maive

Pairing: (F)Reader x Chan

Word count: 2.7k

Genre: Fluff || Guardian angel!Chan

Summary: As your guardian angel, Chan’s supposed to protect you. Rather than hiding himself, he becomes your best friend instead of simply hovering around you secretly. Only when years pass does he realise that maybe you’re more important to him than he thought you were.

Warnings: Demons bcs there’s fallen angels

A/n: Hi sorry I’m posting the start of the angel series so late but like heyyyy here it is uwu. Happy October, everyone!

Masterlist || Minho - Kira || Changbin - Skye || Hyunjin - Nova|| Jisung - Blair || Felix - Lia || Seungmin - Raisha || Jeongin - Avia

It’s a simple task; one that Chan is so used to. He just has to watch over a human and keep them safe. His human just happens to be you. Chan uses one of his typical approaches which is hiding his wings and becoming your best friend. He remembers the first day he popped into your life; it was the middle of the school year. You were 16—the age where humans are unknowingly assigned their guardian angels.

Chan did the approach of sitting beside you. Knowing well how to interact with humans, the angel was quick to become your friend. Chan made it a point to hang out with you everyday and was soon acquainted with you and your best friend, Lia. It took a year later before another person was added to your friend group. The fourth addition being a guy from Lia’s class—Chan knows him as Lia’s guardian angel.

“Felix! Stop!” Lia squeals as he picks her up bridal style and runs straight into the swimming pool. You and Chan laugh as you watch from the side of the pool, legs swishing around in the water. Lia and Felix had seemed to form a different kind of bond compared to you and Chan, but it didn’t change your friendship even after you all moved into college. Felix and Lia ended up in a different college from you and Chan.

You’re still amazed that the both of you had gotten accepted to the same university which meant that you could both just move in together since you’ve known each other for so long. You certainly weren’t expecting having to accompany Chan jogging every morning.

“Come on, (Y/n), it’s just a little more,” he chuckles when he sees you struggling to keep up.

“Easy for you to say,” you pant, “you have muscles the size of my face.” He lets out a laugh.

“Would you feel better if I carried you back to our apartment?” Chan suggests. You look at him and nod, outstretching your arms and making grabby hands at him. He never declines whenever you ask him to carry him around. Honestly, Chan knows that even if he really was a human, he would still be best friends with you. You’re one of the few humans that he actually enjoys protecting.

You make it easy to be around and you’re fun. The time Chan’s spent with you is nothing compared to his many centuries of being alive, but he finds himself enjoying your company more so than any other human.

“Look at those stars,” you point towards the sky, bringing Chan’s attention to the stars that scatter the night sky.

“What about them?” he hums questioningly.

“Those constellations tell stories of Greek mythology,” you turn to him and he nods. “Do you think they’re real?” Chan can’t help the smile that breaks on his face. He finds you so unbelievably adorable that he can’t stop himself from feeling all giddy and happy around you. “What?” you ask when you just see him smiling at you.

“I mean,” Chan looks up to stars that scatter the night sky, “myths have to come from somewhere, right?” He turns back to see you looking at him with a pleased smile. He likes your smile a lot, but he’s a guardian angel—your guardian angel to be exact. Guardian angels aren’t supposed to fall in love with their humans. The ones that end up pursuing their humans get their wings ripped off.

Chan doesn’t think much of it. He pushes aside whatever feelings he has, blaming it on the connection he’s allowed himself to build with you. No matter what happens, Chan is supposed to protect you until your time comes; nothing else. That’s why when he comes across a fallen angel trying to stray you away, Chan’s mind goes into panic. How is he supposed to sneak out and fight the fallen without you being suspicious of his sudden disappearances.

“I met someone,” you announce shyly as you step out of your bedroom. Chan looks up from the cereal he’s eating to give you a questioning look. “His name’s Minho.” The angel stops moving completely at the mention of your new friend. Minho. Minho. Minho. He knows that name too well; the name of the fallen angel who almost pulled Chan down with him.

“Is it that dance major from the dance club?” Chan doesn’t want to show that he’s bothered, but how is he supposed to keep you away from a fallen if he’s already got you falling. You nod, lifting your phone to show your best friend Minho’s Instagram page.

“He seems nice,” you hum as you watch him scroll through Minho’s posts.

“I get a bad vibe off of him,” he mutters out as he hands your phone back to him. You give Chan a weird look. “I don’t know, (Y/n). I don’t think he’ll treat you right.” Your expression doesn’t change.

“It’s not like it’s anything serious... yet…” you trail off. You find Minho really cute. He had somehow managed to win your heart just by working at the coffee shop you usually go to before your morning classes.

“Yet,” Chan points out. You roll your eyes as you take your phone away from his hands, scrolling through Minho’s Instagram on your own.

“He can’t be that bad,” you stubbornly mutter as you stop to look at a picture of Minho and his cats. “See? A cat man! Cat owners aren’t bad,” you show your best friend the picture like it’s evidence.

“(Y/n), just because he has cats doesn’t mean he’ll be a good partner,” Chan claims. You turn to him and scowl, bringing your phone away from him.

“You don’t know that,” you grumble.

“You don’t know that either,” he pushes himself off of the counter. “(Y/n), please think about this. You can’t just go around flaunting your heart around for people to just play around with. You’re smarter than that, and you deserve more than what half of these dumbasses have to offer. Please, trust me this once—I just don’t think this guy will treat you right.” Chan’s eyes are pleading. He honestly wants to tell you the real real reason he doesn’t like Minho, but how are you supposed to believe that Chan comes from a world of angels and gods?

“I’ll try to stay away from him.” Your words cause relief to wash throughout his body. “But he’s very charming and I can’t make any promises.” Your followup only makes Chan chuckle.

“I can see why he’s charming. At least try and stay away from him. I get really bad vibes.” You nod with a small smile. Chan really does a huge influence on the decisions you make. But his influence just isn’t enough to get you to fight off Minho’s magic.

Chan can tell something’s off while he’s sitting in his bedroom, shirt off with the door locked. His wings move around behind him. He can feel a shiver running down his spine when he feels the vibe in the apartment shift. The moment Chan hears it, he’s dashing out of his bedroom and slamming into yours. Not only had he woken you up, but he had caught Minho off guard, sending the fallen angel out of the air and to the ground out of shock.

“Get out,” Chan growls. Minho hisses at him before turning back to you, your face holding pure horror as you look between your best friend and the fallen angel.

“C-Chan?” you stutter, torn between staying in bed or running into the arms of your best friend who has wings. A pair of big, white wings are hanging from his back as he stands at your doorway, staring straight at the man that asked you out for dinner a few days before.

“Do anything to her and I’ll bash your head in so hard that even Satan wouldn’t recognise you.” Chan’s tone is the scariest you’ve ever heard and you’re not sure whether you’re more scared of the intruder or him.

“C-Chan.” Your voice has resorted to a whimper out of fear. Even through the whole situation, your instincts still reach out to Chan for comfort.

“I’m here, (Y/n),” he soothes as he carefully makes his way over to the side of your bed, all the while keeping his eyes on Minho. Once beside you, Chan grabs onto your arm and pulls you behind him, guarding you from the fallen angel.

“You can’t protect her forever, Chan,” Minho snorts. “Humans are fragile beings. I don’t get why the angels just can’t let us feed off of them. What’s the point of protecting them?” The fallen angel chuckles darkly as he rounds your bed, stepping closer to your guardian. “May I remind you of Kira? How fragile she was to just slip past your fingers so easily,” Minho giggles gleefully at the memory.

“Kira’s a lost cause,” Chan mutters, his grip around your hand tightening. “Get out or I’ll banish you instead.” The threat makes Minho’s face contort in annoyance before his form disappears completely. You’re still shaken when Chan turns around, his hands moving to cup your face gently. “Are you okay? He didn’t get to you did he?” His brown eyes flick across your skin to make sure you’re okay, but you don’t answer because your eyes are glued to his wings.

“W-Why do you have wings?” you question softly as your eyes meet his.

Chan lets out a frustrated sigh as he shuts his eyes tight. He’s only then realising the weight of what he’s done. “I can explain, but I don’t think you’d be able to understand. You’re quite shaken up.”

“Of course I’m fucking shaken up,” you scoff, “the guy who asked me out to dinner appeared in my bedroom and you have wings. What a totally normal Friday night.” You roll your eyes as you sit on your bed. “So, what? Are you just not going to explain that?” you gesture to his wings.

“Well, I’m your guardian angel,” he simply claims. You blink a couple times before sighing and sitting at the edge of your bed, hanging your head.

“There’s no way I can’t believe that since you already have the damn wings.” You look up and watch as Chan takes a seat on your bed beside you.

“I was assigned to protect you when you turned sixteen. I chose to show myself and protect you because you were sleeping a lot during class and I didn’t want you to fail,” he sheepishly confesses. “I decided to just stick around since you were pretty fun to talk to. It’s been awhile since I’ve actually connected with a human like this.” Chan turns to you with a small smile. “But now that I’ve revealed myself, I’ll just leave so you can calm down.” The angel stands up, his eyes reassuring you softly before he heads to leave your room

“Chan,” you stop him. He turns around and gives you a questioning look. You don’t want him to leave. The fear that runs through your veins yearns for the comfort of your best friend. “A-Are you going to disappear, too?” Chan’s features soften. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“No, no, (Y/n),” he quickly moves back to sit beside you. “I meant that I was just going to head to my room to give you time alone to process it all.”

“Minho’s not just gonna pop up out of nowhere again, right?” Your eyes are scared and that much Chan can tell without having to look into your thoughts.

“I’ll keep him away from you if he ever tries to come back,” he gives you his signature smile, “I promise I’ll keep you safe, (Y/n).” You know he’ll keep you safe. You’ve already concluded in your mind that he’s the only person that makes you feel as safe as you do.

“Can you stay here with me?” Your request is simple and Chan understands why you’d be scared. It’s not exactly an everyday thing when your best friend has wings and someone from your college appears in your bedroom in the middle of the night. You climb into bed with Chan, his wings protectively caging around you while his arms hold you close to him. His embrace is as warm as it usually is, but the added warmth from his wings wrapping around you just makes his hold more comforting.

“Just stick with me and I’ll keep you safe,” he hums softly as his hand runs up and down your back soothingly.

“What did Minho mean when he said humans are fragile?” you question as you look up at him. For a moment, Chan doesn’t speak. He stays silent and you know that he’s debating whether or not he should tell you about it.

“About...2 humans before you, I was protecting a girl,” Chan starts. “Her name was Kira. Like every human, they’re assigned an angel when they turn sixteen. She was one of the first few times I chose to show myself. The only reason I did was because I was still learning the ropes of being a guardian angel and one of the few ways I hadn’t tried yet was showing myself without giving away my identity.” He pauses for a moment, his hand still running up and down your back calmly. “But Minho showed up that time. He got into Kira’s mind and took her away from me. He corrupted her and now she works in the Underworld because of him.” Chan’s hand stops moving, his hands balling into fists before he calms himself down. “She was the first human I ever lost to a fallen angel.” There’s many things he doesn’t tell you about her.

The first being that Kira was the first human he had fallen in love with on duty. He would never tell you how happy she made him even when he was hiding his feelings from the higher ups. Chan thought about dating her secretly. It was when Minho came around that he realised he was in bigger shit than he thought. The fact that he had not only thought about courting a human, but he had lost one to a fallen angel.

The second thing he would never tell you is that you make him feel the same exact way Kira did. He sees only purity inside of you, bringing your smiles to light and your laughter to life. Chan doesn’t know when he did, but he’s fallen in love with you. As he lays in your bed with you in his arms, Chan can’t help but wonder just when did he fall for you.

“Chan, your mistakes can’t be repeated,” the deity advises. “We’ll let it pass on one condition.” Chan looks up at the omnipotent being. “If (Y/n) is good enough, we’ll make her an angel. Because Lia is good, we’ve made an agreement with Felix. He has to make sure she’s good enough to become an angel only then can he romantically pursue her. Felix has been an exceptional guardian, which is why we’re granting him this one opportunity. You, on the other hand, not only have you lost a human to a fallen, but you had secretly pursued her.”

“I-I tried to fix that,” Chan stutters as the memory replays in his head. “I was so close to saving her.”

“Yet you failed,” the deity cuts him off. “This is the same fallen angel as then. Prove that you’re fit to protect (Y/n) and only then will we have a discussion on your romantic interests.” Chan returns to his bedroom with trembling hands. He can’t lose another human—not to Minho again. Chan makes it a point to stick around you. Being a guardian angel, he just manipulates the world around the both of you to make it easier for him to keep an eye on you at all times.

“Is it necessary for you to change your major for me?” you ask softly. To say that Chan’s announcement of him changing a whole major just to be with you is a shock is an understatement.

“I can’t let Minho get to you,” he gives you a reassuring smile. “Either way, I’m an angel. I won’t be affected by any of these decisions. I just do what I can do to protect you.” You purse your lips into a straight line as you take it into thought. Chan could honestly just do whatever he wanted with his magic, he just wants you to be his. By being your guardian, he’ll make you an angel; an angel that he can finally love.

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tyongf-nct · 4 years

Note

Hi I requested the Yangyang smut! Maybe a more specific scenario could be where the reader is a director on the set of love talk and is dating Yangyang?

Sorry this took quite a bit to get out :( i still don’t know how i feel about a dom!yangyang bc i’m a sucker for bratty sub yangx2 so i tried my best lmao

dynamic: yangyang x female reader

warnings/tags: smut, dom!yangyang, sub!reader, idolverse, director!reader, yangyang is definitely of legal age in this don’t worry, switching of power roles, yangyang being way too cocky for his own good, dirty talk, fingering (female receiving), penatrative sex (female receiving), blindfolding

“Cut! Thank you guys!” You yelled, nodding your head in a bow and clapping as everyone congratulated each other on wrapping up. You just finished the last scene in the boys’ new music video, excited with your work as director and satisfied with how hard everyone on set worked. You left the camera crew to have their final discussions, grabbing a bottle of water from a table before making your way to an isolated room for a short rest.

Around five minutes past before the door creaked open, Yangyang poked his head in with his all white outfit still clinging to his small frame. You grinned, knowing he’d show up sooner or later, as he always did. You were pretty young for a director, almost too young considering you often worked with young idols, and Yangyang was no different. He found you hot, the power you exuded directing everyone on set touched something inside of him. You had never crossed the professional line before, but on the very first day of shooting Yangyang had convinced you somehow. It wasn’t like you were much older than him, a few years and he was an adult anyway. You were surprised the first time--you thought he’d be a bratty little sub but the roles were reversed completely, with you whining underneath him as he smirked down at you.

It felt pretty good to let go of some of that power. Normally you’d command the attention of the room, voice loud and no one questioning you. But Yangyang made you feel something different, a desire to just let go. This time would be no different, if the shit-eating grin on his face had anything to say about it.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he says, cocking his head to the side. You resisted rolling your eyes at his cheesy line, instead scooting over to make room for him on the small couch. Your eyes flicked over to the door before realizing Yangyang had already locked it, his bright white figure sitting down quite close beside you.

“Why don’t you take that off already?” You whined, tugging at the hem of his jacket. He chuckled, undressing himself as you excitedly did the same. It wasn’t long until his naked figure was on top of yours, pressing you back into the cushions of the couch as he sucked on the underside of your jaw. His fingers ghosted over your core, a shiver running through you as long and nimble digits brushed your most sensitive spot.

“Hmm, already soaking wet, huh? Let’s not pretend you weren’t ready for this either,” his tone was so sure, so confident in himself and you couldn’t even argue. You had been thinking about him all night, having to get yourself off again even after he had made you come twice the previous day.

Yangyang slipped a finger inside so easily, without any warning. It made you gasp, nails digging into his bare shoulders as you felt the muscles in his back working to pump his finger into you. You closed your eyes, letting your body relax as a small knot of pleasure began to form in your gut. Your skin was on fire, it was hot in the small room and Yangyang’s body covering yours entirely didn’t help. When Yangyang took his finger out you let out an embarrassing whine, eyes opening to see why he stopped before he reached into the pocket of his pants on the floor, pulling out a condom.

“What the hell? You had that in there the whole time? What if someone saw that?” You shrieked. Yangyang laughed, unwrapping the protection and slipping it on his quickly hardening length.

“If any of the boys saw it they’d just make fun of me for being too hopeful. Now, are you going to let me fuck your tight pussy, or not?” He asked. You choked, nodding with a flush of warmth as he grinned, apparently satisfied with his effect.

Yangyang lined himself up at your entrance, pausing as if contemplating something before grabbing the wrinkled white shirt from the floor and placing it over your eyes as a blindfold. You moaned, squirming as one of your senses was taken away. You could picture the smirk on his face as he pressed into you slowly, sucking in a breath as your walls clenched around his cock tightly.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good, baby. Look at you, already a mess for me,” he slid out just enough to thrust himself back in with some force, groaning at your noises of pleasure and placing his hands on either side of your head. You couldn’t see but you could feel everything. The way the couch dipped with his weight, the way his cockhead brushed deep inside of you, and his hot breath panting across your face.

“I could fuck you all day,” he groaned deeply, speeding up when you pushed your hips up to meet his. Pleasure sparked over your body, sending white hot heat to your center as you neared your orgasm. Yangyang had a way of making you come quickly and intensely, not much stimulation was needed when just his mere presence made you horny. He moved one of his hands to your breasts, massaging and flicking over your nipples before latching his mouth onto the other. The sudden sensation surprised you, not being able to see his next move making it that much more intense. When his free hand came down to circle at your clit you came without warning, arching your spine up and crying out as waves of pleasure crashed down inside of you. You barely had time to recover before Yangyang ripped the makeshift blindfold off, pulling out and taking the condom off to stroke himself to his own orgasm. You opened your mouth, already knowing what he wanted without him even having to say it. His warm come spilled into your mouth, small droplets falling on your tongue as you watched his face contort in pleasure.

Yangyang’s eyes raked over your body, ending back up at your face as you were swallowing his load. He groaned, shaking his head with a laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“You’re so hot,” he sighed. You smiled, licking your lips and kissing him again.

#asks #anons #yangyang smut #wayv smut #nct smut #tyongf-nct

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Subterfuge

Part 8/finale in Getaway Series

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (vaginal ntercourse, violence), angst, general assholery.

This is dark!(nomad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. I mean it, I’m not gonna tell you again.

Summary: The reader makes her move.

Note: Alright, so this is the final part of this series and I’m shocked that I’ve finished it bc I was struggling boo. But here ya go. I hope you all are ready and I dunno if you’ll like it, but this is the end.

Anyways, let me know what you think as always with a reblog and/or some feedback. Love ya <3

...

You watched your mother as she set the casserole dish in the middle of the table. She hadn’t said much to you since your arrival. She avoided it as she distracted herself with the family dinner. Your sister sat across from you, she meant to say something but had yet to find the gull.

Your father was the only who was unfazed by your presence. Never the talkative type, he at least looked away from his book for more than two seconds to acknowledge you. He greeted you with a hug and asked after your day.

The tension of thoughts unspoken kept you silent too. You waited at the table and resisted the habitual urge to take your phone out. That would only be a reminder. Of how terribly everything could go. Your last hope were the texts you quickly erased upon reading. The emails deleted within minutes of receiving them.

Tony Stark had a plan and it all hinged on you. And Steve. Agents were in place to descend on your apartment the moment you sent the code word but their target had been absent for almost five days. Just like his presence, it made you anxious. He had been away for longer before. You should be relieved to be free of him, but you knew it was only temporary.

Your mother served everyone before she sat. You twirled your fork but even the savoury aroma of her family recipe couldn’t rile your appetite. You may not know when Steve would show up next, but you knew the end was imminent. All you had to do was send the word. One word and he was done.

“So, honey,” Your mother’s voice was hesitant. “How have you been?”

“Working,” You replied. “You know, the same old.”

The sound of cutlery against the plates filled the silence that followed.

“And how’s Nick?” Gia asked suddenly. You looked up to her grin and narrowed your eyes.

“I wouldn’t know,” You said.

“Gia,” Your mom warned.

“Oh come on, the last time we saw her, her ex was tryna fight her new boytoy.” Gia trilled. “Our family can be dramatic but that was--”

“He’s not--Nick is just...Nick.” You interjected. “Jesus, I came here to be with all of you and you’re treating me like some...pariah. Should I have worn a scarlet letter for our dinner?”

“We’re worried,” Your mother intoned. “We don’t know this Nick very well and after what happened with Ethan--”

“Ethan hates me. He has every right to.” You snarled. “What do you want me to say? He was right, I’m a slut.”

“Language,” Your mother reproached.

“I’m an adult! I’ll use whatever language suited to the situation.” You dropped your fork and crossed your arms. “Why aren’t you saying anything to Gia as she dates a man nearly two decades older than her, hmm?”

“We love you, we just want to make sure you’re okay,” Your mother protested.

“Then leave her alone,” Your father spoke up as he swallowed a mouthful of casserole. “Pete’s sake, she’s told you a dozen times. Let her make her own mistakes. Judgin’ her’s not gonna do her any favours.”

You blinked and looked to your dad as he leaned back in his chair.

“This Nick boy causes any trouble, I’ll deal with him myself.” He shook his head. “Just like I dealt with Ethan.”

“What?” You lifted a brow. “What does that mean?”

“I had a talk with him after the barbecue. Told him to leave you alone. He’s angry. Hurt. But I told him it’s no sense hounding you and making you both more miserable than you already are.” He sighed. “It will pass. All of it.” He looked to your mother pointedly. “So let it pass and be nice.”

You mother sniffed and stared at the table. Gia glared at you over her plate and you tapped your fingers along the wood. You nodded and slowly stood.

“I’m not hungry.” You said. “Besides, I didn’t come here to eat. I came here to spend time with you. I thought, stupidly, that we could be friendly.” You stepped out from between the chair and table. “I love you. All of you. I just think I need some time.”

“Honey,” Your mother stood, “Please--”

“I’ve got work tomorrow,” You neared her and forced your arms around her. “I’ll see you.”

You let go of her and patted your sister’s arm as she sulked in her chair. Your father stood and hugged you in turn. He clung to you a moment before he held you at arm’s length. His wrinkles deepened as he considered you.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” He said.

“I’ll try, dad,” You slowly parted from him and his hand fell from your shoulder. “Bye.”

You grabbed your coat and jacket at the door and looked back into the dining room. Your dad watched as you opened the door and disappeared out onto the street. Well, there wasn’t as much at stake as you thought.

‘Dear Mom, Dad, Gia, or whoever finds this letter,

If I'm missing or dead, I want this to be a record of why. If this man gets the best of me, I want there to be a chance that someone might get him.’

Your hand hovered over the paper as you thought. The small book light lit your words as you sat in the dark. The mattress was lumpy, its time on the floor had worsened its springs. You flicked your pen against your lip and bit the cap. Slowly, you pressed the ballpoint to the paper again.

‘It happened up north, on vacation with my friends, Kaya, Camile, Milani, and Corette, as well as my sister, Gia. They do not know what happened but they can confirm that they left me alone for several hours to visit the beach. During which I was accosted and assaulted by the fugitive known as Steve Rogers. He was bleeding and left me bleeding in turn.

I returned at the end of the week to the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Ethan. For a few weeks, my life was the same as it was. But then he appeared again, broke into my apartment, and assaulted both me and Ethan. He made Ethan watch as he raped me and this led to the end of that relationship.

Thereafter, living on my own and without witness, I was visited almost weekly by Steve Rogers. He introduced himself to those I knew as Nick and coerced me into hiding his identity. If you capture him, you will find footage of at least one of his assaults on his phone. You will also find that he once more assaulted Ethan at one of my family’s events.

You will also note my correspondence with Stark Industries. They can provide you with a full transcript as I have erased all evidence on my end to keep myself safe. If they have failed to aid me in capturing the fugitive, then this letter will be of use to you. I only hope that he is caught before he can do this to someone else.

In the event that this letter is read, I want my family to know that I love them. I am sorry I didn’t tell them the truth but it was for their own safety.’

You leaned back against the pillow and re-read the letter. You shivered and folded it up carefully. Your last testament. All that would remain of you should this all go to shit. You got up and tucked folded the paper up so that it fit behind the upholstery of your jewelry box. When Steve arrived, you’d text your mother your hiding spot. You only prayed Steve didn’t discover it first.

It was your day off. You didn’t sleep and so you showered and dressed early. Unsure of when the bell would toll, you determined to make what could be your last day to yourself entirely self-indulgent.

You spent an hour in the bookstore. It was ages since you visited the familiar aisles, browsed old titles and new. You still hadn’t read the last haul of books you’d taken home with you. You weren’t sure you ever would but the smell of paperback comforted you. It reminded you of a time before; the alphabetized spines were the only order in your chaotic life.

You paid for a collection of Poe’s stories and made your way to the cafe next door. Many of the bookstore’s patrons ended up here. It was bustling that day but many took their coffee to go. You ordered a tea and sat in the corner, a round-backed armchair with another beside it. Empty.

It was easy to feel lonely these days. With a secret you couldn’t share with anyone; a torment you faced on your own. You left your tea to cool on the small table between the chairs and opened the book. Many of these tales you’d read before but each time you read them, they felt new again, though the sense of horror was nothing compared to that you faced outside the pages.

“You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded –with what caution –with what foresight –with what dissimulation I went to work!”

You began to slump in your chair as you read the descent into madness, the almost inhuman insanity did not seem so fantastical anymore. Perhaps, Poe’s horror wasn’t fictional, but a reflection of the depths of humanity. Of how low one could sink when their soul is corrupted.

A shadow moved beside you and a cup was placed next to yours. The book fell closed around your finger as you let it rest in your lap. You stared over at your villain. Steve sat down heavily and smirked over at you.

“Is this what you do with your free time?” He asked as he ran his hands along his thighs, smoothing the wrinkles from the worn denim.

You pulled your finger from the pages without marking your place and set the small volume behind your cup. You took your tea and sipped as you looked around the cafe. “It’s what I’m doing today.”

“It’s been a while,” He remarked as he picked up his own cup and cradled it just above his lap. “Do you think this will save you?”

You turned and squinted at him. You drank again. The tea was lukewarm and acidic. “Save me?”

“All these people,” He glanced around. “Do you think that will stop me?”

“I know it won’t,” You replied and took another gulp before setting aside the dregs to cool entirely. “So what are you waiting for?”

He laughed and raised his mug to his lips. He drank the dark coffee and placed his mug next to yours. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“And neither do you,” You countered.

“I don’t,” He said as he leaned over the arm of his chair. “And let me assure you, I’ve dealt with people far more formidable than you, girl.”

You nodded. This was what he did. He enjoyed it; taunting you. “I’m sure you have.” You examined the lines of your palm. You itched to grab your phone but could not make it so obvious. “Where have you been, anyway?”

“Doing my valiant duty. Saving the people who need saving.” He said smugly. “You know, the ones I was outlawed from helping. This world seems to have forgotten that without me, they’d be in ruins.”

“Is that how you make it okay in your head?” You looked at him. “Hmm? This?”

“This is what I’m owed. You. A single life for the millions I’ve saved.” He reached over and touched your arm, his fingers danced along your shoulder. “I’m fucking hard already.” He pulled away and pushed himself to his feet. “Meet me in the mens’.”

He turned and strutted away as you watched him. His broad shoulders disappeared down the narrow hallway that led to the facilities. You sighed and grabbed the book of horror stories from the table.

You stared at the cover, the silhouette of a raven. A bad omen; a harbinger of warfare, of death. You grabbed your purse and replaced the book on the table. You didn’t need horror stories; you were living one of your own.

The walk along the hallway seemed longer than six steps. The clinking and steaming of the cafe kitchen disguised your footsteps. You passed the ladies’ and stopped in front of the mens’. You didn’t knock but stepped inside with resignation.

Was this the climax of your story? How then should the denouement bring you lower?

Steve reached over your head and pushed the door closed as you entered. His hand slipped down and turned the lock with a loud click. He grabbed your arm and yanked you away from the door as he turned you to face the small sink. You dropped your purse as you gripped the porcelain.

You looked in the mirror at yourself as he let go and hastily undid his fly. “Come on,” He tugged your shirt up and grabbed the waist of your jeans.

You flicked open your fly as he shoved your pants past your ass. The heat of his body surrounded you. You looked up. Your eyes weren’t yours. They were dark and haunted. Your features were marred by shadows. You felt hollow as his hand brushed against you and he pushed your shoulders forward.

You closed your eyes as he entered you. It hurt. You were dry and he was impatient. It took him a few thrusts to reach his limit. His hand went to the back of your neck as you shuddered and grasped the sides of the sink. He crushed your hips against the porcelain as his hushed grunts floated above you.

“Fuck,” He swore as he slipped his hand around your front. He felt between your folds and rubbed your clit. “I should’ve come yesterday.”

You bit your lip as you hung your head forward. You kept your eyes shut as each thrust came harder than the last. The cold porcelain grew slick beneath your palms. You slid forward, your face closer to the mirror. His hand crept around your neck and your back arched as his fingers tightened at your throat.

Your breath whisked from you as the sounds of the cafe crept in beneath the door. You felt yourself slicken around his cock. Your body worked against you. His flesh slapped loudly against your ass. You couldn’t stifle the heat as it flowed through you.

You gasped as he sped up. Your hands slipped as his left your neck. He caught your arms and held them back as he fucked you.

“Open your eyes.” He growled. You shook your head and he jolted into you painfully and stopped. “I said open your eyes, girl.”

Your jaw set and you slowly opened your eyes. His blue eyes were cavernous as they stared back at you in the mirror. He began to move again. Your body rebelled and continued its ascent. You breathed through your nose, trying to muffle your pleasure as he ripped it from your flesh. You squeaked and trembled as you came. He watched, pleased at your surrender.

He pulled you away from the sink. He dropped your arms and wrapped his around your middle as he rutted into you. You reached back to touch his thighs, pleading wordlessly for him to slow down as each thrust sent a ripple through you.

He jerked against you and spasmed as he threw his head back. He hissed as he came and rocked his hips slowly as he spilled inside you. You were weak as he released you and you stumbled forward as he pulled out.

He chuckled as you caught yourself on the sink and his cum dripped down onto your panties and jeans. He edged you out of his way as he grabbed a paper towel and turned the faucet. You took some toilet paper and turned away from him as he cleaned himself up. You tried to do the same but still felt dirty when you were done.

“I’ll be out there,” He said as he zipped his fly up. “There’s an alarm on the fire escape so let’s not play games.”

“Alright,” You grumbled if only to get him to leave.

The locked clicked and the door opened and closed. You wiped off your panties and jeans as best as you could and pulled them up. You locked the door and grabbed your purse off the tile. You dug around and found your phone buried in the mess.

You leaned against the wall as you typed in the single word. You stared at it as your thumb hovered over ‘send’. Once it went through, you had less than an hour before agents descended on your apartment. You sent the second, the one for your mother and shoved your phone away.

However this ended, Steve would no longer be your personal scourge.

The car ride was silent. It always was with him. It was better that way. The only words he had for you were cruel. You kept your eyes forward and watched the road through the windshield. Play it cool. This was the hardest part. The anxiety. The impatience. For your doom or his.

Your building was a spectre against the grey sky. A storm was moving in. You got out and he followed. The usual smack on your ass. You pulled out your keys as he pushed himself against you. He was hard again.

“We’ll have some fun on your day off,” He teased as you unlocked the door. “Better than your books.”

You stayed quiet. He didn’t expect an answer. He knew you wouldn’t. This routine had become too familiar. Too rehearsed. Too easy.

You led him up the stairs. With each, your heart beat just a little quicker. The keys jingled in your hand and you realized your were shaking. You stopped in front of your door to gather yourself and find the right key on the ring. He leaned against the wall and ran a finger down your side.

“You’re...excited,” He mused. “I can hear your heart racing.”

You looked over at him, the key poised just before the lock. “You can?”

“Yeah. I hear a lot, you know? Your heart, the blood flowing through your veins, your breath before it rises,” He smirked and you slid the key into the bolt and turned. “Serum gave me a lot more than muscles, didn’t it?”

He flicked your chin playfully and drew away. You held back your retort and stepped inside. Your apartment was as you left it, not a single speck of dust missing. You blinked as you entered the small living room. A furtive glance to the windows.

Did they get your message? Were they really coming?

Steve walked around the room as he stretched his arms above him. You watched him as he strolled around the small space. He neared the window and looked out, his figure a wraith against the grim sky. He twisted the plastic rod and the blinds closed.

He turned back to you and his hands went to his hips. That classic stance you’d seen on posters. Captain America. The saviour of the world. He laughed.

“You’re heart is still going,” He slowly inched across the room. “Faster now. Fuck, you’re gonna have a fit, girl.”

You swallowed, your mouth dry as you gripped your purse. You looked down and saw your phone through the open zipper. You couldn’t just pull it out and check. You hadn’t felt a vibration.

He neared, his shoes decisive against the hardwood. He was like a hawk circling. You looked up and backed away as he came closer.

“You really think Tony Stark would believe some small town girl?” Steve grinned and your chest clenched. “Hmm? You think you’re some spy with your code words and your covert messages? Your plan to have them storm your pathetic apartment?”

Your lips parted in shock as if you’d been slapped. No… Your flesh turned to stone as you met the wall and pressed yourself to it.

“I’ve faced real spies. Let me tell you, Hydra was a lot more intimidating but I tossed them on their asses. But you, you think you can bring me down?” He chuckled as his hand came up to grip your chin. “What do you think I could do to you?”

Tears rose along your lower lids and your lip trembled. You should’ve known. It was too easy. Another trick. A bug on your phone; your computer, too. He knew it all and you were too desperate to think. Stupid.

“Think of what I’ve already done,” He leaned in so that his nose was almost touching yours. “Of what I’m going to do now.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “It’s over, girl. Just like you wanted it.”

He pulled away, his hands balled as he glared down at you. His chest rose and fell as his jaw ticked. You wiped away the tears before they could fall and sniffed. You stood straight as you looked back at him defiantly.

“Fine,” You declared. “Then end it.”

You were stunned as his fist met your jaw. Your stumbled back and your head hit the wall. You slid down slowly as your legs turned to jelly and the room faded slowly before your eyes. You gripped your pounding skull as the strength drained from you. You looked up at Steve as he loomed over you and your vision swam with stars.

“You really thought you could get away from me?” He knelt as your eyes began to roll back, his voice floated in your ears and into the void.

When you awoke, the world was moving. When you awoke, you were shocked. Were you really alive or was this the purgatory you’d always denied? Your head lolled and you stared at the driver of the car. No, you were still painfully alive.

Steve’s features were limned in sunlight. It was either a new day or a new place. His blue eyes bore into the winding highway ahead. Your jaw ached terribly and your head felt like it was full of cement. You babbled weakly.

Your hands were tied together. Your ankles too. The seat belt was buckled around you and kept you from sliding down the seat.

“I really thought I might’ve killed you,” He said. “I hit you a bit harder than I meant to.”

You grumbled. No words would come.

“That’d be too easy. I’ve been too easy on you and you didn’t appreciate it at all. I let you stay in your shit hole apartment, let you see your family, let you live your life when it’s not your life. It’s mine.” The steering wheel groaned as he gripped it tighter. “You’re mine.”

You mumbled and felt the sting of tears as the world closed in on you.

“It’s all over now, girl,” Your eyes closed again. “You don’t even know how good you had it.”

His words were scribbled across your dreams as you sank back into unconsciousness. You dozed and woke at intervals. He allowed you a drink of water from a bottle and a piss on the side of the road. You barely recalled the stops as your world was clouded in shock and pain.

You were shaken awake for the last time. Your door was open and Steve felt along your jaw roughly.

“It’s not broken.” He stated and unbuckled the seat belt. “See, another thing to be thankful for.”

“Steve,” You rasped. “Please…”

“Please, shut up,” He spat and pulled you out of the car. “Come on, hop, bunny.”

He tugged you forward and you were forced to hop on your bound feet. There was a farmhouse just ahead; long-abandoned and slanted. The fields were overgrown with weeds. This was where he’d leave you.

“Just get it over with,” Your words were clumsy through your swollen jaw.

He didn’t reply and continued to drag you towards the barn. He slid the door open enough to angle you through. He led you to the corner where a pile of rotted boards rested. He let go of you and you wobbled on your feet as he began to move the rubble.

Beneath was a small hatch. This was tornado country. These vaults were built decades ago to keep families safe when the sirens sounded. Except the hatch was more than the usual wooden door; it was metal, shiny and new, a bolt on its face.

He took a key out and unlocked the hatch. He turned and bent to pick you up. He slung you over his shoulder and your head spun. He slowly carried you down the steps. He put you back on your feet and you wavered.

The light from above lit the shadows. There were shelves along the far wall, illegible packets and cans lined the middle shelf. A bed sat a foot from the shelves against the wall; a metal frame with a thin mattress. A toilet was attached to the wall along with a small sink. A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling.

Steve untied your hands and your feet. He stood and shoved you towards the middle of the room. You caught yourself on the bed frame and turned back.

“Welcome home,” His smile was sinister in the dim.

“No,” You gasped and neared him. He pushed you back easily and you fell on your ass. “Please, don’t do this. Just kill me, please.”

“Kill you? I never wanted that,” He scoffed and turned to set his foot on the bottom step. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to check on you. Now and then.”

He started to climb the steps and you got up unsteadily. As he reached the top, you grabbed onto the stairs and tried to come up after him.

“I’ll throw you back down,” He warned as he pulled on the steps and slowly raised them. You clung to them as he tried to wriggle them away from you. “You’ll be worse off if I break something.”

“Steve, you can’t--” Slivers embedded in your skin as he yanked the steps free from you and raised them up after him.

“Now, now, girl,” He knelt and looked through the hatch at you. “Is there anything I can’t do?” He slowly lifted the door as he spoke. “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep an eye on the family for you.” He taunted as he slowly closed the door, the light draining away inch by inch. “Be good and I’ll let you know.”

He dropped the door entirely and it clanged shut. The lock turned and you were left in darkness. Tears rolled down your eyes and light sparked in your blurred vision. The light bulb crackled to life above you, a small beacon in the pit. You could hear him moving the boards back onto the hatch.

You turned blindly and fell onto the bed. You were poked by the corner of a familiar shape. You sat up and grabbed the book from atop the thin blanket. The silhouette of the raven shone beneath the wire. The book fell open as your sight came clearer through the tears. The world clearer through the dark. The scraping and steps above faded away.

“Then silence, and stillness, and night were the universe.”

587 notes · View notes

meg-black · 5 years

Text

A choice between good and easy (Mysterio x fem!Reader)

(The title is not the best but couldn’t wait to post it so…)

Feel free to tell me if you've liked it and what could be improved! Don't forget to reblog if you've enjoyed it, it would mean the world to me!

Wordcount: 5,073

Warnings: mild swearing, implied smut (kinda?), angst (?) Don't really know tbh), otherwise just fluff bc I’m a sucker for it.

Reader is implied to be asexual.

You were making your way through the lab, trying not to bump into anyone. The place was buzzing, and now was not the time to trip and scatter your papers all over the place. You had followed your dad, who was a SHIELD agent, in Prague, to run some tests there. You weren't actually working for SHIELD yourself, but you decided helping your dad was the best thing to do. It had only been eight months since Thanos was defeated, so the world was still a bit hectic. That, plus the new threat of element monsters wrecking havoc. You had seen it on TV. A giant water monster in Italy. He had been stopped by an unknown hero, nicknamed Mysterio. As if you really needed that now... Another world wide threat. You knocked on the door of your father's office, and made your way inside. He wasn't there. You sighed, thinking about how you were gonna need to run around the place, again. That is, until you found a small piece of paper on his desk. He had been called by Fury, and was in the basement. Which was on the other side of the building. Sighing again, you made your way to it, almost bumping into someone carrying test tubes containing a weird substance. She glared at you as you apologized, and continued walking. You soon found yourself in the basement, and you saw your dad.

'Dad, I have the papers you asked for!'

By the look on his face, he was having a rather serious conversation with Fury, but when he heard you, he stopped and gave you a huge smile. He would've given you a hug too, if you two had been alone.

'Amazing, thank you.'

As you smiled back at him, you felt someone watching you. You turned around, and were met with a man wearing what looked like a superhero suit. And right behind him was...

'Spider-Man?'

'Yeah that's me', he said nervously. 'You can call me Peter by the way.'

'It's so nice to finally meet you! I'm Y/N! I'm really sorry for your loss. From what I understood, Iron Man was important to you.'

'Yeah he was...' he said, smiling sadly.

'Miss Y/L/N', said Fury, 'this is a rather important conversation so if you could...'

'Sir please', interrupted your father. 'Y/N has been helping us a lot these past weeks, and she already knows about what happened in Italy. I think she should stay.'

'Only if she can help us', said the mysterious man.

You widened your eyes. You had finally recognized him.

'You're Mysterio! Thank you for stepping up in Italy, you saved a lot of people there.'

'And I hope I can do the same here.'

'Here? Is there one of them here?'

'Unfortunaly. We need to stop it before it destroys the Earth.'

Great, you thought. Another apocalypse.

There was a beautiful sunset when you got out of the lab. It was still pretty hot out there, so you had decided to take a well-deserved break to read a bit. Sitting on a nearby bench, you took your book out. You had only been reading for about five minutes when a shadow prevented you from seeing the words on the page. You looked up, seeing Mysterio studying you.

'You seem a bit young to be working here', he said abruptly.

You scoffed, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

'And since when is age a symbol of capability?'

'That's not what I meant', he argued, softer this time. 'Why would you risk your life like that when you're so young?'

'I don't really work here actually. I'm just helping out my dad when I'm not at uni.' You paused, swatting a fly passing by. 'But I like being here. After everything that happened recently, it's nice to spend time with my dad. The risks don't really matter.'

'That's what I thought too. Before the elementals destroyed my world.'

'So it's true uh? You're from Earth, but not this one?'

'Yeah', he said, sitting next to you while fidgetting with the golden band on his finger. You hadn't noticed it earlier. 'It cost me my family.'

'I'm sorry to hear that', you whispered, putting your hand on top of his own. 'I can't imagine how hard it must be to go through it all over again.'

'This Earth won't fall. I promise.'

There was so much sincerity in his eyes that you felt your heart swell.

'I don't see how it could fall. We have a kick ass team after all.'

After that evening, you and Mysterio (you had learnt his name was Quentin), spent a lot of time together. You were trying to help as much as you could, but you also wanted to learn about his Earth. How similar was it to this one? How different? You nearly had had a heart attack when he had told you that on his Earth, there was pineapple in burgers. Upon seeing your disgusted face, he had laughed, saying he was just joking.

'We did have pickle and pineapple pizza though', he had added.

You had spit the water you had just been drinking, which had only made Quentin laugh harder.

As you watched him talk with Fury and Peter about how they should attack the fire elemental, you thought that you were lucky enough to see this other side of him. Not the serious soldier preparing for battle, but the funny, kind and caring man. Sure, Peter was seeing a bit of this side too, but Quentin was acting more like a father figure than a friend. And you couldn't help but think that with you, it was different. You hoped it was different. You didn't want him to see you as his daughter. Because you certainly didn't see him as a father figure. You had tried to ignore how your heart was racing everytime he looked at you – you had more important things to focus on. But it was getting harder and harder to do so. Not that it was your fault. It was like he knew what you were feeling, and he played with it like a dog would with a toy. Just as you were thinking that, he looked at you, his gaze fixed on your eyes. You swore you could have seen him bite his lower lip, but it was so brief you might as well have imagined it. You gulped, but you didn't lower your gaze. If this was some kind of staring contest, you'd make sure to win. He was the one to break the eye contact, thanks to Fury, who was still talking to him. That caused you to smirk. If he really wanted to play that game, he'd find you were quite a worthy opponant.

Later that day, as you were walking to your father's office to eat lunch with him, you saw Quentin again. He was alone his time, and he smirked as he looked at you.

'What was that earlier?' he asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

'I don't know what you're talking about', you said innocently.

'Don't you now?' he raised an eyebrow, coming closer to you.

He grabbed your arm and ran his thumb over it, sending shivers down your spine. You blushed and got out of his grasp.

'I need to go', you whispered. 'My dad's waiting for me.'

You turned around and walked away, your footsteps and heartbeat faster than usual. He was good at this. Too good. You really needed to focus on something else. Whatever you do, don't think about his eyes, you thought. Or his lips. Or him in general.

As it turned out, not thinking about him was harder than you'd wished. You were involved more than ever with the SHIELD, and with Quentin, as the fire elemental's presence felt more and more dangerous. Everyone knew it was a matter of days before the battle. Or hours, as you learnt when you woke up this morning. Though 'got woken up by a loud bang at your door' was more accurate. It was your dad, and you didn't need to ask any questions to know what it was about. You followed him in the basement, where Fury, Quentin, Peter and several other people were going through datas. Still groggy, you managed to understand that the elemental's activity had increased, to the point where they'd been able to determine where and when it would strike. Where being at the carnival and when being tonight. Peter was worried, since his classmates were there, but Fury told him he would put something together so they would be safe. When you found out that something was an opera concert, you couldn't help but laugh. Imagining a bunch of teenagers dying of boredom while classic music was playing in the background was just hilarious.

It was a lot less hilarious when the fire elemental struck. Peter and Quentin both had earpieces which allowed them to communicate with each other, as well as with Fury. You stayed in the basement, your father at your side, as you waited anxiously for any news. Only good ones you hoped. But because nothing ever went the way you wanted, things got worse. The fire elemental got bigger and bigger, as he absorbed more and more metal. You bit your nails, something you hadn't done in years.

'They're gonna be okay', your dad assured you.

It didn't make you feel any better. It had been a while since you had heard from any of them. You feared the worst had happened. But then you heard Peter. They had defeated the monster, but needed help to control the remaining chaos. You started following Fury and your dad, but he stopped you.

'Sorry sweetie, but you're not coming.'

You huffed.

'I'm sorry? I'm a part of this, of course I'm coming!'

'I know you worry about him but we don't -'

'Dad, I love you, but you won't make me change my mind.'

He sighed, but let you come. You followed the small group, heart racing. He had noticed. Shit, you thought.

When you arrived at the carnival, you realised that chaos was an understatement. Everything was destroyed, flames were still raging here and there... You spoted Peter, who looked fine. Unlike Quentin, who was still on the floor. You ran towards him. He was still breathing, but had gotten roughed up pretty bad.

'You've looked better', you whispered, a small laugh escaping your lips as you felt tears prick at your eyes.

'No shit.' He tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a cough.

'You okay? Do you think you can stand?'

He nodded and you helped him up. You offered to patch him up, but he refused, stating that it was a minor injury.

'I need a drink though.'

You reluctantly watched him leave with Peter, and helped the agents clean up the place. That man will be the death of me.

Quentin and Peter had been invited to a convention in Berlin by Fury. Quentin had accepted, but not Peter. That's the first thing your father said to you the next morning. Right after, he told you you were also going in Berlin, and you didn't miss his innuendo. Blushing furiously, you shook your head, telling him it wasn't like that.

'I know sweetie, I know. Can't blame a father for teasing his daughter though.'

He winked, stroking your hair.

Since you were leaving the following day, you went back to your room to pack your stuff. Looking at all the clothes in your closet, you sighed. You always had the tendency to pack way too much stuff. Putting some music on your phone to give you strength, you took out all your clothes. It took you the entire afternoon, but finally, you were done packing. Looking proudly around, your blood ran cold when you saw a giant spider next to your desk. You screamed, and got up on your bed. You could manage small spiders, but this one... The door flung open, and Quentin came in, a distressed look on his face.

'What's happening?!'

You pointed your finger at the hairy beast. You thought he was going to make fun of you, but he didn't say anything. He approached the spider, gently took it in his hand (you were disgusted, but still wished you could be the spider at that moment), and opened the window. He put it outside, and closed the window.

'And the damsel in distress is saved', he teased.

'I'm not a damsel in distress', you argued.

He rolled his eyes.

'Whatever you say.'

'Not all of us can be badass superheroes all the time you know?'

'Indeed', he said, raising an eyebrow.

You threw your pillow at him, which hit him in the face. He looked at you, shocked, and you stuck out your tongue at him.

'That's how you reward me for saving your life?'

'You were being an ass', you replied, shrugging.

'Need help climbing down your bed as well?' he smirked.

You threw your other pillow at him, but he caught it this time.

'See? That's what I'm talking about', you exclaimed. 'You're so... infuriating!'

'So that's why you keep staring at me then? Because I'm so “infuriating”?'

'Exactly!'

Half angry, half amused, you went up to him, and put your hands on his torso, pushing him towards the door.

'Now get out!' you said, almost laughing.

He threw up in hands in surrender and winked at you, before leaving your room. You closed the door and shook your head. I'm so screwed.

The airport was buzzing with people. You were taking a SHIELD private jet, but your lab was too small to receive a plane, so you needed to take off at the capital's airport. You had made it past security and were currently waiting for the boarding to begin. Quentin was nowhere to be seen. Not wanting him to miss the flight, you decided to go looking for him. You told your father you needed to use the restroom, which wasn't a lie, because you really did. You just didn't want him to know your real purpose. You didn't need him to tease you more than he was already doing.

You didn't find Quentin on your way to the bathroom, but you didn't worry. He couldn't possibly have lost himself, could he? You were going back to the group when you got your answer. You heard a voice, which sounded exactly like Quentin's, coming from a nook in a wall to your right. You got closer, careful to not look suspicious. The man was talking to someone in a hushered voice.

'Everything is under control', you heard him say. 'The animations, the suit, everything was perfect. They all believed it. Get ready for the final phase. I have the glasses, but we'll need more drones. I want something bigger. Something worthy of the Avengers. The whole world is looking at me after all.'

You didn't want to believe what you had just heard. So it was all an act? Animations made thanks to drones? No, impossible. Maybe it wasn't Quentin. Just someone with the same voice. You leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the man. Someone with the same face too apparently. So it was him. Your heart was racing, your mind going at full speed. Why was he doing this? Not only was he deceiving the SHIELD, he was deceiving the whole world! Your heart in your throat, you went back to the group.

'Is something wrong?' asked your dad, after seeing how upset you were.

'It's nothing... Just two girls in the toilets being obnoxiously loud about their sex experiences. I think I'm scarred for life.'

He chuckled, shaking his head. You offered him a small smile, and sat back next to him. You could've told him the truth. You should have. But you didn't want to. Not yet anyway. Not until you had tried to do something to stop this thing before it got out of control. You knew it was stupid, but you were trying to convince yourself it was the best solution. Quentin and you had grown quite close, so maybe you could make him change his mind. Or had your closeness been an act too? You sighed. You couldn't possibly confront him now, but you'd make sure to do so once you were in Berlin. Taking out your phone, you decided to use the remaining time before the flight to conduct some research on Quentin.

If you were already feeling nauseous, you realised your misery was not over when Quentin sat next to you in the plane. Sure, it was a private jet, so there weren't many seats, but really? Not wanting to talk to him, or even look at him, you turned on your laptop, plugged in your earphones, and put on a movie. You tried to act normal, but it was difficult to ignore his gaze going from you to the screen, like a neverending dance.

The flight seemed to last forever. When you arrived in Berlin, you were exhausted. Physically and emotionally. The trip to the hotel seemed even longer. Luckily you weren't in the same car as Quentin. You didn't want to face him now. You needed time to process everything and think about what you were going to say to him. However, you knew you couldn't wait for long.

Arriving at the hotel, you flung yourself on your bed, without unpacking. You stayed there for a good twenty minutes before you heard a knock on your door. Groaning, you went to open it, and found yourself face to face with Quentin. You sighed internally, but let him in.

'Are you okay?' he started.

'Yeah, why are you asking that?'

'Well, you've been ignoring me the entire flight.'

You gulped. Obviously he had noticed.

'Look, I know these past weeks have been exhausting for you. They've been for all of us. But now that the elementals are gone - '

'The elementals?' you snapped. 'Oh like the threat “worthy of the Avengers”? Cut the crap. I know none of it is real.'

His eyes widened for a split second, but then his expression changed completely. He no longer looked like the caring man you had grown to like. His face was twisted by anger, and he looked dangerous. Deadly even.

'How?' he almost growled.

'I overheard your conversation on the phone. At the airport.'

He sighed.

'And to think you were the least annoying out of all of them.'

He then pulled out a gun, small enough to fit under his t-shirt without it being seen. You immediately put your hands up.

'Woah, what are you doing?'

You tried to not panick. He wasn't really going to hurt you. Right?

'Can't let you run around and tell everyone my secret, can I?' he purred, sending chivers down your spine. It could've been a pleasant feeling, if only there wasn't a gun pressed to your forehead.

'Well... I haven't said anything so far so...'

The pression on your forehead lessened.

'Why?' he said, tucking his gun back in.

'Why?' You scoffed. 'Because I'm a silly girl who thinks she somehow can talk you out of this madness.'

You hadn't meant to be so honest, but you were so angry that the words had gotten out anyway. He too seemed surprised by your outburst.

'I won't let your cute face get in my way', he hissed.

'Get in your way?' you repeated, not registering the compliment. 'Oh you mean your vendetta against someone who's already dead?'

Seeing that he didn't respond, you continued.

'Yeah I know you worked for Tony Stark. I know my way around internet, and I found a bunch of infos on you. I get that you'd be pissed at him you know. But we've all had shitty bosses, and it hasn't turned us into psychos! And he's dead for fuck's sake! What are you trying to prove?'

'I want the world to listen to me', he said, his jaw clenched. 'I want to be THE Avenger, so they acknowledge me as a powerful being.'

'Okay... And has it never occurred to you that you could become that by I don't know, fighting actual threats? Instead of going through all the technical difficulties of creating one?'

His eyebrows were furrowed, like he seemed to really think about what you were saying.

'You're a genius, and your drones are amazing. I know that, because we all believed in the elementals. Can't you use that for the greater good? I mean I know the Avengers defeated Thanos, but it doesn't mean there won't be another threat. A real one this time, with real consequences. Consequences that you could prevent. You want to be the hero the world needs? Well you need to make a choice between what's good and what's easy. Because right now, you're doing complete shit and it's gonna get you killed.'

Quentin's eyes were fixed on you, and you could've sworn you saw a flicker of something going through them.

'And what if what I want right now is neither good nor easy?' he whispered.

'What?'

'It's not good because she's a lot younger than me, and it's not easy because she hates me.'

You blinked. You certainly weren't expecting that. This was completely off topic.

'I don't hate you', you whispered back. 'I wanted to when I found out the truth. But I can't. Because I know you're not evil. You can still get back on the right path.'

It was his turn to blink. He then scoffed.

'You really think I'm redeemable?'

'You'll find I have the tendency to see the best in people. You're not evil Quentin. You're a hurt man who doesn't know how to handle his resentment.'

You took his hands in yours, and he brought you close to his body. Your heart began to race, as his face got closer and closer. Just as you were about to close your eyes, there was a knock on the door. You both jerked away from each other, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

'Come in!' you said with a wavering voice.

The door opened, and you saw your dad, along with Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

'Mr Beck, we were looking for you', Fury said.

'Were you? I was just talking to Y/N about the elementals.'

'Well that's why we're here. Should we expect them to come back? Or are they gone for good?'

You looked at Quentin expectantly. What he was going to say next would change everything. For you at least.

'No. They won't come back. We're safe.'

You released your breath, relieved.

'Good. I think this calls for a celebration party', said you father. 'Care to join us Y/N?'

You looked at Quentin again. He was looking straight ahead, as if you hadn't almost kissed a minute ago.

'As long as there's food', you finally said, forcing a smile.

The party was great but you didn't really care. You were never one to drink a lot and big gatherings made you uncomfortable more than anything. You sighed, looking at your empty plate. You had already gone to the buffet twice, but there wasn't a lot you wanted to do besides eating. And staring at Quentin. You kept thinking about what he had said earlier, about what had almost happened, and his unfazed expression afterwards. Did he care for you as much as you wanted to? As much as you cared for him? You sighed, taking your head in your hands.

'Are you alright Y/N?'

You looked up to see your father looking at you, clearly concerned. You smiled weakly.

'Yeah, I'm just exhausted. Is it okay if I leave?'

'Of course sweetie.'

You smiled at him and bid him goodnight. As you made your way out of the hotel dining room, you didn't notice Quentin had gotten up as well, and was following you. It wasn't until you were in the corridor leading to the bedrooms that you heard someone else's footsteps. You started walking faster. Please don't be a drunk creep, don't be a drunk creep, don't be...

'Y/N!'

You stopped, heartbeat increasing. It was him. He caught up with you, and you prayed he wouldn't see the blush creeping up your cheeks.

'Sorry if I startled you. Do you mind if I walk you to your room?'

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You cleared your throat.

'No... it's fine.'

You started walking again, not saying a word to each other. While the silence was not awkward, it wasn't comfortable either. You soon (too soon? Not soon enough?) arrived at your door. You opened it, and headed inside.

'Want to come in for a bit?'

The words had gotten out on their own. You silently cursed yourself. He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod his head before following you. As soon as you closed the door, he pushed you gently against the wall.

'I do believe we got interrupted earlier', he said, his voice low and husky.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your cheeks grew hot, but you still found it in you to reply.

'No we weren't,' you said, trying to keep a serious look. But as Quentin's eyes grew wide, and a hurt look shone in them (or was it just the light?) you couldn't hold it. You smiled and then full on started laughing. Quentin seemed taken aback, confusion written over his beautiful face.

'That was a joke!' you exclaimed, still laughing.

Quentin shook his head, a smirk forming on his lips. He got closer, his breath fanning over your face.

'Wait!'

Quentin growled, clearly annoyed that he got interrupted, again.

'I just... I don't...'

Come on Y/N, you thought. It's now or never. You took a deep breath.

'Look. I don't know where this is gonna lead. I don't even know if you feel something for me. But I do. I... I really like you and I don't want anything to happen if you don't feel the same way. Or if you just want a one off thing or something not serious. Because I'm not into those things.'

He clenched his jaw, a stern look on his face. Of all the things he could've done next, what he did shocked you. He got away from you, and without a word, he left your room, closing the door loudly.

You sat on the floor, your back against the door. What the fuck just happened? In the worst case scenario, you had expected him to laugh at you. Certainly not to be angry. You had made a mistake. You had lost control of your emotions, and... No. You weren't the one who had tried to kiss him. Twice. Sure, you had been flirting. Or attempting to. You had shown him you cared about him. He had let you in, let you see a glimpse of the wonderful man he could be. What just happened was not your fault. You closed your eyes, feeling tears run down your cheeks. This wasn't your fault. After some time, you got up and decided the best thing to do was going to bed. Going after him wasn't an option. You'd see things clearer after a good night. As soon as you had decided that, someone knocked on your door. Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, trying to take off your ruined mascara. You opened the door, and didn't have time to say anything before you felt lips crashing on your own. Shocked, you tried to break free from the embrace, before you recognized the person's smell. There was only one person who wore this cologne.

'I'm sorry', Quentin said breathlessly, breaking the kiss. 'I shouldn't have reacted that way.'

'Well,' you said, trying to regain some kind of composure, 'this wasn't in my top 10 reactions, that's for sure.'

'You made a list?'

'Didn't have anything better to do.'

You both laughed at that. Realising you were still in his arms, you blushed. You got out of the embrace, running your hands up and down your arms.

'So... Does that mean you feel the same?'

You mentally face palmed yourself. Was it even allowed to be this awkward? Quentin looped an arm around your waist, his other hand resting on your cheek.

'Was that not a good enough answer?' he whispered.

'I suppose it was only average.'

'Only average? How rude.'

He kissed you again, softer this time. You melted into the kiss, your hands going up at the nape of his neck.

'No more lies', you whispered.

'The only lies I've told around you were about the elementals.'

'Is that so?'

'Even I couldn't lie to such a beautiful girl.'

'So smooth,' you mocked, grinning wide.

You yawned, and suddenly became aware of how late it was.

'Am I boring you?' he asked, looking falsely hurt.

'You could never. But it is getting late. And I've had quite an exhausting day.'

He broke out of your embrace, a soft smile gracing his lips.

'I'll see you tomorrow then.'

He kissed your cheek and went to the door. You followed him and grabbed his arm. He turned around, a questioning look in his eyes.

'I never said I wanted you to leave. My bed is big enough for two you know.'

You blushed, and he smirked. You playfully hit his arm.

'Not like that, you idiot.'

'I didn't say anything', he said, putting his hands up.

'As if you needed to!'

He laughed and you took his hand.

'Now, come to bed instead of saying stupid shit.'

'I told you I didn't say anything! You're the one imagining things!'

'I thought we agreed on not lying anymore', you teased, pulling him with you on your bed.

He shook his head and turned off the light, as you laid your head on his chest. He put his arm around your middle and kissed the top of your head.

'Sleep well love. We'll talk tomorrow about this “no lying rule”.'

You hummed in agreement, sighing as he caressed your side. Everything was going to be okay, you were sure of it. He proved he could get better. Be a good person. He just needed to be surrounded by the right people. There's hope for him, you thought. There's hope for us.

Aaaannnd that’s it folks! You made it to the end! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. You have no idea how much I’ve refrained myself from writing fanfics/imagines because of how much I feared it would be shit and ooc (hopefully this isn’t too much)

Let me know if you want a part 2 or something like that. Also I may write a Wanda x fem!Reader thingy soon (love her so much!). This will be an occasional thing though, so I’m not taking any requests (though if one of you has an idea they’d like me to write, I’ll try to if I’m feeling inspired/like the idea. Not gonna have a schedule though)

Taglist (basically all the people who liked/commented my post where I talked about writing this, love you guys soo much): @crayolanicola @arsenie-poo @sheogorathdaedricprinceofmadness @superheroforrent @citrussaurus @piratekingfoxx @jake-gyllenhaal-lover @martina9400 @soft-cowboy1899 @alienkid97 @permanently-tired-pigeon @itsapparel @fan-grell-411 @aquahogcodes @sorrowful-bitch @maggiesimpsontheimmortal @kmoyer99 @pixelhollow @eleventhdoctorsangel @chaotic-gyllenhaal

#marvel #marvel imagine #MCU #mcu imagine #oneshot #reader insert #mysterio imagine #mysterio x reader #quentin beck imagine #quentin beck x reader #spider-man far from home #ffh spoilers #jake gyllenhaal #lgbt imagine #ace pride #asexual reader

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iwouldfuckajcrowley · 5 years

Text

Nanny Ash fic, disclaimer: I’ve written this instead of doing important uni work bc the thirst is strong. Also i’m not a native English speaker and this is my first ever fic so please be gentle with me. Also this should please be anonymous. I MIGHT make a part 2 later on bc this is far from over. I actually am sorry that you have to read this.

Rating M, includes: masturbation, oral sex, genderneutral reader perspective(i tried), snakes

Word count: 2,464

You’re a housekeeper for the dowlings. Hard working, determined and also really great with little warlock. You’re telling him to make up his own mind instead of listening to the questionable things he gets from two certain people in this mansion. Whenever warlock, as of now 6 years old, is in school and everyone else is out, you can’t help but feel watched in that big empty house.

A lot of times when you’d round a corner, the nanny, Ashtoreth would stand in a doorway, tall and intimidating and.. attractive as she was. You couldn’t help but notice that sometimes she would appear to be in front of you in spite of having been behind you in a different room just a minute ago.

However it would always make you blush to squeeze past her to get a plate out or to reach for the same things she did, hands brushing ever so slightly (you did it on purpose a lot of times just to have this). Every time when you‘d stutter an apology for yet another small and intimate inconvenience, the corners of her mouth would turn up barely and all she’d say was „it’s alright my dear“. Her voice sending exquisite shivers down your spine.

You‘ve been working in this place for some months now and you find yourself intrigued with Ashtoreth, her posture, her sharp cheek bones and the mysterious aura surrounding her. you‘re going mad with this crush and you start to make little mistakes from being too excited when she’s close.

This particular day while preparing strawberry lemonade for the fancy party taking place in the garden, you feel a little too relaxed. Ash has given you space all day, not even acknowledging you, being busy with party preparations. You couldn’t help but feel a little stung by that, you enjoyed her presence immensely in a weird way. You loved how graceful she moved about and how soft she spoke to you and, heavens, when she genuinely smiled your day was made (of course that almost never happened. She only smiled for warlock and sometimes when you outdid yourself working.) She even sung for Warlock sometimes, it struck you as odd how much it made /you/ want to curl up in her arms and sleep.

You knew there was something warm and honest about her but at the same time something incredibly wicked. It made your mind fall into dangerous places, dark rooms and shaking thighs, sweet perfume and that honey smooth voice, feeling restrained and bare as long fingers made their way towards your…You shook your head, took a deep breath and brushed the thoughts aside as you cut the fresh fruits.

Right as you’re going about tipping the bowl of berries into the lemonade mixture you hear a voice behind you.

„ Everything alright my dear?“ It was Ash. You yelped out in surprise and managed to scatter a bunch of strawberries all over the kitchen table, as if she could’ve heard your thoughts you turned beet red and cursed quietly, starting to clean your own dumb mistake.

Nanny Ash tsked as she came to your aid, the sound made your hands shake and your thoughts race. You hastily grabbed at the traitorous fruits when she reached out to take your hands in hers to still their shaking.

„Please don’t be afraid. I mean no harm“ her voice was calming and sweet.

„Im sorry, it- i just.. just a bad day i-„ you turned towards her and froze as her face was mere inches from yours. You could smell her expensive perfume with hints of cinnamon and cedarwood, it filled your senses and stirred something deep inside you, fueled the wicked thoughts. You imagined leaning forward, closing the distance to those rose red lips that your eyes were fixed on.

„It’s quite alright my dear. No need to be so.. excited“ Ashtoreth cooed. Your breath hitched and you felt your cheeks flush pink as you saw through the dark glasses she always wore and could swear those eyes didn’t look human, but you were too distracted by how close she was to you.

„Perhaps you need a break? Something to get your mind off“ her hands travelled up to your shoulders. At first you thought it was just a polite touch, that was until You felt her thumbs brush across the fabric of your shirt, caressing your collarbones. You tried to play it down, stammering an excuse that you had to finish making the lemonade lest the dowlings would be mad with you.

„I‘m sure they‘d understand, darling. I could take care of you“ now you were certain that something was in the air, as you saw the faintest smile on her lips and could feel these slender fingers positively fondle your upper arms, moving up further, brushing your sensitive neck, cupping your reddened cheeks. A weak „oh“ escapes your mouth, you almost got dizzy as you stared at her aged but oh so beautiful face.

„trust me, darlin‘“ she whispered leaning in close and your eyes fell shut in desperate surrender and just in that very moment-..

you heard the familiar bang of the patio door swinging wide open.

The sound made you gasp and turn away quickly to proceed with the beverages, not even able to hear your own thoughts, let alone focus on whoever just came in.

/Trust me/ echoed in your head as the kitchen door swung open and Ash was stolen away to help with the guests by someone who was oblivious to the rather intimate moment you two just shared. You lurked over your shoulder, painfully aware of your own pounding heart, cursing quietly over and over again.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You did your duties, cleaned little messes here and there, reminding yourself that this was your job and you had to act professional if you didn’t want to go back to working awful conditions for minimum wage. You wouldn’t risk your financial security for… whatever it was that was happening between you two. Even if her touch still lingered on you and the thought of giving up someone you’ve been so.. intrigued with.. was quite painful.

As your shift ended you had made your way to the staff chambers, collecting an oversized, silky nightshirt with a matching pair of pants and locking yourself in that one staff bathroom that had a tub.

If you were to be professional about this, if you wanted to politely turn Ashtoreth down, you had to relieve yourself or else that horny little voice inside your head would betray you and you’d fall right into her arms, or onto her bed, shaking underneath her touch.. yes, A good way to start.

You stripped yourself off clothing, admired your body in the mirror, flawed but familiar, you liked yourself. Sighing softly you let your fingers slide over your chest, flicking at your nipples. Would Ash pay attention to those as you were sprawled out on her bed? Tied up for one reason or the other, moaning with all the little things her experienced fingers would do to your body. The thought made you shudder with anticipation and you climbed right into the foam covered bathtub.

Wondering briefly how one would get into a bathtub with their socks still on, would they fall in backwards? Climb up the sides and just scramble in?

Huffing out a little laugh you discarded the thought, hot water engulfing your goose bump covered body.

Tropical fumes filled your senses as your body entirely relaxed in the oversized tub. Big enough for two people, big enough also for you to comfortably spread your legs over both sides of the porcelain vessel and touch yourself.

You know what you like and start of like so, a little worried that someone else was in need of a bath today, just as exhausted as you. Maybe Ashtoreth? Did you ever even see her be tired or as much as wipe sweat of her brow? In all the months you couldn’t remember a single instance of Ash showing weakness of any kind. You on the other hand had the tendency to be anxious, worried and horribly passionate about your work. You wanted, no, needed someone to tell you you‘re doing a good job. Too bad no one here ever did. Except for the nanny. She would comment on your work all the time, little compliments that made your heart sink.

You sighed as you felt that familiar beam of pride in your chest. You loved when Ash told you that you did a good job cleaning up after an event or how well you cooked a particular dish. Yes you loved praise. What a slutty thing to think about while touching yourself.

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to think about nanny Ash in first place while she is exactly what you‘re trying to run from for the sake of your job. You needed to keep this position, needed to save up for your big dreams and you couldn’t afford getting caught snogging the nanny. Even tho you wanted to, so badly.

You think back to the moment in the kitchen when Ash was right there, about to kiss you, about to make your secret desires come to life. Were you scared? Absolutely not. You were aroused, excited and also in utter disbelief about how fast she made you into a submissive mess. As if she heard your thoughts.

You imagined what would’ve happened if no one had interrupted you. Would the kiss be gentle and loving or harsh and demanding. Both is good, your head tipped back and you closed your eyes, imagining her hands in your hair grabbing tightly, bringing her mouth to your neck as you breathed out her name in your head and in the present.

One of your hands was palming the sensitive flesh between your legs, while you tenderly caressed your own neck with the other. Your mouth was agape slightly, imagining Ash.

She would demand of you to kneel for her, as your shaky hands would lift up her black skirt. Your mouth would worship her lean thighs with kisses and licks, one of her hands on the counter for balance, the other resting on the back of your head, steadily guiding you upwards, as she would hook one of her deliciously long legs over your shoulder.

You let out a little moan, not even loud enough to echo in the room, as your hand moved faster, making little waves on the surface of the water, tilting the foam around. You felt dizzy and sleepy but so so good as you let your unoccupied hand dive right down to caress your hole, circling it with your fingers as the water did a good job of easing the friction.

You wanted to touch her so your hands let go of the skirt, caressing the slender muscles on the back of her legs while the fall of fabric wrapped your mind into darkness. You mouthed at her panties, grabbed at her ass, feeling feral energies wash through you. Imagining her speak to you.

„Oh you’re doing so good, so eager just for me.“

The words were loud in your head, almost real. You didn‘t notice a weight coming over your mind like the skirt in your fantasies. With hot urgency you used your fingers to fill yourself up while your other hand still worked it’s magic.

Excitedly you pushed her panties aside to finally lap at her wet cunt. It was sweet and weird but when she moaned, loudly, it echoed through your head and made you mad with lust. Obscenely you licked and sucked at her clit while slipping two fingers right inside her. You were so far gone you wouldn’t even care to be caught. A constant stream of praise came from Ash’s lips and rang in your ears.

How wonderful you were, how well you did, what a talented tongue you had, good so so good for her, all hers and hers alone.

Little waves of pleasure rippled through you, your arms and legs were heavy but you couldn’t stop now.

„Mine, mine, all mine“ you heard her say clear as day, you could smell her perfume like she was right there, growing frantic with your movements, shuddering and just barely suppressing the noises coming from deep inside you.

In your head you were still avidly lapping at her, moaning, sending vibrations to her gorgeous clit. Her hands tightened in your hair, pressed you closer, barely left you any means to breathe and you loved it. Feeling the strain and pull in reality.

„Come with me“ echoed right in your mind.

„yes, yes, yes..“ you repeated breathlessly over and over, like a prayer, speeding up your motions. Ashtoreth‘s voice in your head, hands in your hair, taste on your lips, just for you. You got ready for an earth shattering impact when all of a sudden a loud hissing noise pierced your ears. In the blackness of your mind you saw something come at you fast as lightning. You felt cold fear mixed with ethereal pleasure as with the first beat of your orgasm a snake with wide open jaws lunged right at you. Panicking you opened your eyes, yelling out a loud moan as you came harder than ever before, water splashing around from the sudden movement. You grabbed the rim of the tub for dear life as you rode out your climax in sweet shock. Shaking like a leaf you savored every last exquisite rhythmic convulsion. All the pressure and sensations slowly falling away as you stilled, panting hard and very aware of the fact that something supernatural must’ve just happened to you.

„What, was that??“ You asked out loud, unsure as to what in heaven/hell you just experienced. A snake, really?? God that’s an all time low for you.. cuming to a frickin‘ snake coming at you. Contemplating if you were now unfortunately a scalie a mortifying realization hit you: you had yelled so loudly the whole staff‘s wing must know what you were up to in here.

Oh god No, how were you supposed to face them tomorrow?

Your face scrunched up in embarrassment, you dried off, got into your nightshirt and half heartedly wiped the soaked floors with your towel before escaping through the corridor thankfully unseen by anyone.

Well fuck. That was something.

#submission #lemon #goth mary poppins #fanfiction

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soap-brain · 6 years

Note

rainy day cuddles for sunrises!culmets? or going through old boxes for the sunrises curlfriends :D

yessssss thank you!

Rainy Day Cuddles

“If the rain doesn’t stop soon, this whole place will be under water,” Hugh says grimly. “The good news: we can only move deeper into this thing. Deeper as in lower. You know, where the water goes. Are you still as desperate to see this place?”

Paul sighs. “I don’t see how the rain is my fault.”

“Sorry. I’m being an ass,” Hugh admits, sitting down next to Paul on the neoprene mat. “But I’m starving. You know, in a movie, I’d now be wondering what you taste like. Luckily for you, and unluckily for me, you don’t have meat on you.”

Paul smiles slightly, but still doesn’t move. He’s conserving energy big time, so he literally hasn’t moved for the past two days, since they ran out of food.

Hugh leans against him.

“Good for you is also that you can’t feel faint from hunger. You know, the annoying thing about all this will be that if we get out of here, I’ll have lost my carefully cultivated muscles. Not that there’s anyone I could impress with them here, but... it’s a nice thought, you know? Getting off this rock and... you know, looking good enough that I can date someone immediately.”

“Why would you want to date someone immediately? Shouldn’t you rather want to find someone who shares similar interests?”

“Maybe I want to get laid.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it’s fun. ‘Cause it makes you feel alive. ‘Cause I haven’t gotten laid in ages. ‘Cause I’m missing that kind of human touch.”

That does make Paul turn towards him.

A tiny wave of rainwater splashes against the pedestal they’re sitting on. If the rain stays as bad, they might have to relocate during the night.

“I could provide that for you. If it’s essential to your wellbeing.”

Hugh sighs and closes his eyes, getting more comfortable on Paul’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? I might not be able to download the required mannerisms, but I’m sure you could explain them to me.”

“Exactly that’s why you couldn’t. It’s not ‘mannerisms’, Paul, it’s - it’s more of a want. Like... you want to please your partner, make them feel good. Those are the ‘mannerisms’ you need. And it doesn’t work if - it’s not a service, you know. Plus, right now? It would burn way too many calories, and I can’t afford that.”

“Okay,” Paul replies.

And that’s that.

They do have to move the tent a bit further upwards later. It’s not far, just up one of the ramps, but they don’t come with a handrail, and Hugh stumbles while walking up. He needs food.

“How long can a human survive without food?” Paul asks once they’re settled down again and Hugh is snuggled up against him again. Not because Paul is warm - he made sure that he has practically no heat output - but at least Paul is soft and feels alive.

“Hm. Depends. Couple weeks.”

“We should’ve rationed better.”

“Should’ve this, could’ve that. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Do we still have a beacon?”

That’s an odd question, but Hugh feels a little too cotton-y to think about why it’s so odd.

“Why?” he asks instead.

“If I’m able to position one at the entrance, I might be able to go outside without losing sight of the monolith through the rain, because I’d be able to watch the beacon’s blips and navigate back that way. I might be able to find something to eat.”

“Okay,” Hugh says.

Paul does just that the next morning (or evening, or noon. It’s hard to tell without their nuclear clocks working, but that’s just another bonus for having found shelter in the monolith. Sure, Paul was really happy to explore the place. Then a bit less happy when it turned out that the thing is practically useless, because as far as they know it’s just an empty building. Then even less happy when the rain that separated them from the rest of their group didn’t let up at all; even less happy when the rain started coming into the monolith.

Hugh spends the time Paul is away lying down and thinking of home. He’s not hungry anymore; he knows that that’s bad, but there isn’t much he can do about that, so why bother worrying about it? If Paul doesn’t find food, they’re screwed anyways. Home, however, is a nice thought.

He thinks about baby Hugh; about the way his mom looks at his dads, about Constanza’s postcards, about waking up to happy noise in the house, about suddenly bursting out into song together. About Camilla’s horse. About the little lavender wands his abuela would braid to let them play witch and wizard with as kids.

There are so many happy thoughts, or dreams, and it seems a bit dumb that the world doesn’t want all that. They could all just be nice to each other and there would be no need for war or pain or death, and everyone could get hugs.

The further Hugh slides off into dreamland, the less he feels the permeating wet cold of the monolith, and the more he feels his home again. Or his parents’ place. Hugh did have an apartment in San Francisco, after all. But his parents’ place was always... warm. Even in the winter when they had such huge problems with the heating constantly breaking, it had still been so warm.

He wakes up toasty. Really, really toasty, Sunday morning with French croissants and hot chocolate in bed-toasty. Someone is breathing shallowly into his ear, arms wrapped around Hugh’s torso, like a personalized big spoon for him.

Hugh is also wrapped in the sleeping bag, his shoes are removed, and there’s the smell of burned wood and grilled fish in the air.

Wait.

Grilled fish?

“Good morning, Hugh.” Paul’s voice is very close Hugh’s ear, sending pleasant shivers down his spine when Paul’s breath fans over the ear’s shell. “You’re awake, so maybe you’d like some fish? I’m not much of a cook, but I managed to find some edibles, and I don’t think I charred them too much.”

They feast on grilled fish, edible plants and even some edible tree bark. Paul wraps an arm around Hugh when they snuggle up again later, and towards the end of the day the rain lets up almost completely and they can go out and find the group again.

also let’s put in some sunrise curlfriends here bc why not! they deserve more content anyways!

Going Through Old Boxes

Michael’s sneeze echoes through the apartment.

“Bless you!” Tilly calls from the kitchen. “Did you open one of the boxes?”

“I did, and I also accidentally disturbed the dust. Why do you keep all these things?”

Tilly finishes pouring the tea, keeping an ear out for her girlfriend. They’re on their last day of packing Tilly’s things up so she can move in with Michael into her pretty loft, and apparently Michael has opinions about what Tilly decides to keep.

Another small sneeze, and then a quiet “What the fuck?”.

“What is it, Mikey?” she calls, picking up both their mugs and heading for the living room.

Michael is staring at an unshapely mass of pink fabric.

“What is this?”

Tilly sets their mugs down before sitting next to Michael again, tucking her legs under herself.

“Well, that’s my first handmade princess dress.”

Michael turns the dress, staring at it with a mixture of puzzlement and criticism.

“How did you put it on?”

“I’d show you, but I grew boobs since I made it, so...”

Michael’s face softens and she gives a small smirk.

“I like them.”

“I know.” Tilly pillows her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “I also grew a little bit in size, both vertically and horizontally, so I can’t wear this one anymore. There should be pictures though.”

Michael discards the dress carefully, then reaches into the box again, sniffling slightly. Her general dust allergy will not be happy if they keep going through the boxes.

“Is that... you?”

Tilly peeks at the pictures Michael is holding.

“Yeah.”

“Oh noooooo, you were adorable!” Michael squeals. Actually, honest-to-god squeals.

It’s the cutest sound Tilly has heard her girlfriend make, ever.

“Look at your hair! It’s so long, and so crazy! And your smile! You’re missing both your front teeth! Oh, god, you’re so cute! What are you... what happened in this one?”

“Um... I got my hands on the box of strawberries our neighbor brought over, and after that there were no strawberries left and my dress was messed up.”

“To be fair - it is more of a pink potato sack with holes than an actual dress. Can I keep this picture?”

“Not if you insult my dress.” Tilly pokes Michael’s stomach and leans back.

“Alright.” Michael turns towards her, cherry red lips curling into a smile. “Tilly, that’s a beautiful dress, and it shows you have great talent, and you were very cute wearing it. May I please keep this picture?”

“You think we should throw the dress out?”

Michael purses her lips.

“I mean... while I’m not saying that it’s not a work of art... um.”

“... it’s a pink potato sack with holes that still smells of about twenty year old strawberries?”

“Yeaaahh. Please tell me there’s something else other than princess dresses in the other -” She does a quick count. “- twelve boxes?”

“Um... I think box number eight might also have old drawings? And that one over there has all my old diaries, that’s why it was so heavy. Oh - oh, I should show you -” She scoots over to that box, flipping it open and releasing another cloud of dust. “Where is it... the blue one, I think.”

It takes a while for Tilly to flip through the pages until she’s found what she’s looking for.

“Okay,” she says and clears her throat. “Listen to this: ‘March 15th. I think the pretty girl from next door is a lesbian. Today Miss McAntosh explained to us what lesbians are; they’re like boys, except they’re girls. Or not. Sometimes they’re not girls, but they’re not boys, either, just something in between or something different. A lesbian is when you really like other girls. And want to kiss them a lot. I want to kiss a lot of girls very much, I think, only Mom says that that’s gross and gives you cooties. I looked up cooties, but it wasn’t on wikipedia, so maybe cooties don’t exist and kissing girls is actually so much fun mom is afraid I won’t do my homework anymore because kissing girls is more fun that than. Doesn’t really sound believable, but okay. To be honest, magnetic fields don’t sound believable either, and mom had been right about me not liking those, because they’re too complicated. Personally, I think girls are prettier than magnetic fields. I’m going to go out and play now.’ - what?”

Michael has her hand pressed against her mouth, convulsing in silent giggles. She shakes her head and motions for Tilly to go on.

“’March 21st: Update on the girl thing: I kissed Elana. It was rather wet, and she put my tongue into her mouth. She said that’s what her dad does with her mom. Tongues are weird and kind of slimy, but I liked the kissing. We also held hands, and then we climbed a tree and did some more kissing. I like how long her hair is.’ Okay, hold on. Hold on.” Tilly discards the diary and searches for a different book, then leafs through that until she’s found the page. “This is three years later, and we had another sex ed class. ‘October 10th. I saw a breast. It reminded me a little bit of when I was kissing the neighbors’ daughter in the tree in the backyard a few years ago, because it made me feel something similar. Maybe I am a lesbian. Do you turn into a super lesbian when you’ve had enough girl crushes? Do I get a cape? Those are very important questions. Mom says not to be ridiculous, I’m definitely not a lesbian. I mean of course I’m not - dad cut my hair really short and ugly, so I definitely won’t find a girlfriend that way, and then I can’t be a lesbian. I hope it grows again, and fast! I also hope mom doesn’t start talking about the straightening again. Especially because lesbians aren’t straight. Ugh, maybe I’ll find a pretty punk girlfriend with red lips and we’ll run away in her cool car. I might have to learn more about cars though, so I can impress her. Maybe I could also impress her by sewing cool patches on her jacket. I should learn how to do that. Right now.’ And that concludes the thrilling story of my burgeoning lesbianism.” Tilly smacks the book closed. “Did you like it?”

Michael wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

“That’s just beautiful. You wanted to become a super lesbian by having enough girl crushes to... to do what?”

Tilly drops the diary back into the box and crawls close to Michael.

“I don’t know. Maybe to kiss the prettiest girl?”

Michael’s lips taste of strawberries, and if tiny, eleven year old Tilly had only known how incredibly nice kissing could be.

:DDDDD

>>domesticity prompts

#culmets #curlfriends #discovery #shroom-writing #sad-is-happy-for-deep-people #asks

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gukyi · 7 years

Text

practice makes perfect (or at least, significantly better) | kth

⇒ summary: taehyung’s the drummer in a local punk band, and you’re the university’s first chair flute. this is a love story that doesn’t exactly go as planned, but then again, does anything?

⇒ punk band!au

⇒ pairing: taehyung x female reader

⇒ word count: 7k

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ warnings: alcohol consumption and jazz solos

⇒ a/n: written for the one and only, the real mvp, the cutest peach who told me not long ago she was desperate for a punk taehyung fic, @jingukz . for u! i am also tagging @seoulscapes bc we’re currently at fic/bias wrecker war. inspired by this photo, which ruined my life to an extent i didn’t even know was possible.

In the world of a music major, there are three things you must never turn down: 1) an empty practice room, 2) good music, and 3) free alcohol, and while your local bar doesn’t have any individual practice rooms, complete with relatively soundproof walls and really shitty old metal stands, it can offer you the latter two of the options, and that sounds good enough.

For no particular reason, your music major friends have invited you out for a night of mysterious shots and sweaty dancing, complete with a small town punk band you’d never heard of as the cherry on top, and while punk music isn’t really your cup of tea—you are a flute player, after all—it most certainly makes for good stage music.

Free alcohol would be a dumb thing to reject anyway, at your age, because it means drunken mistakes and a buzzed mind without depleting the bank, and you’re already poor as hell, thanks to the age-old millennial struggle known as college debt. Fuckin’ economy.

You’re just walking into the bar, taking off your light leather jacket—because despite the frostiness of late November nights, the room is already steamy from the bodies radiating heat and you can feel beads of sweat pooling at your hairline—when your friend comes up to you, face tinged red from what must be a couple shots, swirling a bright scarlet drink in her hand.

“Y/N! You made it!” She exclaims, stuffing the glass into your hand. “Here! Drink this. We got a good spot near the front, come on! The band’s about to start!”

You barely have time to get out a ‘hello’ before she’s tugging you towards the stage, the beverage sloshing around in the cup and spilling over the sides, onto the wooden floor below. Sure enough, she and the rest of your music major buddies have secured a very decent viewing space of the platform, a little round table by stage left, allowing for an optimal side-view of the band as they set up their amps.

“Hey, it’s Y/N!” The rowdy marching band drum major, Namjoon, says as you approach the table, a lopsided smile on his face. “Glad you could come.”

“Like I would ever turn down free drinks and some nice music,” you scoff, sitting down next to him as you down some of that alcohol in your glass. It stings your throat as it hits it, a tangy taste of fruit of vodka dancing on your tastebuds. “The fuck is this stuff?” You say, holding up the glass to eye level, like it’s going to help you determine the ingredients.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon tells you, holding up his glass so that it’s even with yours. He’s got the same mysterious concoction, only he’s already downed most of his. “All Joohyun told me was that it’d ‘get us drunk real fast’, and then she drank the entire thing in one gulp.”

You both turn to look at her, her face as cherry red as it was when she greeted you. She’s clapping along to something even though there’s no music playing, only the static of an amp echoing throughout the room and the occasional loud pop! of a wire getting plugged in.

“Joohyun?” You ask, a hand on her shoulder. “You good?”

“Peachy! Y/N, did you know that you’d look really good with a chrysanthemum in your hair? Because you would,” Joohyun says, and she’s normally very positive but this is just strangely optimistic, even for her. Before you know it, she’s producing an actual chrysanthemum from her bag—where from, you don’t really want to know—and placing it above your ear, in the crook between the skin and hair, and smiling to yourself. “There!”

“Thanks, Joohyun,” you say, never ceasing to be amazed by the purity that is drunk girls, but she interrupts you with a hand over your mouth, shushing you.

“Shh, the band’s about to play, shh,” she says, taking you by surprise as you protest her hand over your lips. When she lets go, you turn to Namjoon, who merely chuckles as he shifts his focus to the stage.

There’s not much light in the bar to begin with, only the dim multicolored bulbs in the ceiling and the ever-so-faint glow of the city streaming through the windows, but the band onstage doesn’t let that distract them, letting the metal chains and rings on their clothes, their bodies glint as they catch the light, just for a second. It’s the only hint that they’re setting up, about to perform, that is, until the airy sounds of a keyboard bounce off the walls and reverberate off the wooden planks, and then the music is in full swing.

You can always trust this bar, because there’s never a time you’re here that they don’t have good music, and the group on stage is no exception. You know good music from bad—you fucking study it, for God’s sake—and there’s never a time when you don’t appreciate good music, regardless of the genre. Punk has, what Namjoon likes to describe as “rage channelled into a melody of fatalistic and existential despair” and what Joohyun likes to call “intense anger”, and both of them are equally as correct. Punk isn’t punk without passion, and what fuels passion better than fury?

There’s five of them. You haven’t brushed up on punk band lingo in a while, sticking mainly to your concert band jargon, but you know that there’s two guitarists, a keyboardist, a bassist, and a drummer. That part is easy to guess, especially since each of the instruments are so vibrant in their own way, their notes that are distinct, yet blend together perfectly. You’d vibe to this, if you didn’t spend all your fucking free time listening to the sick beats of Bach and Handel.

“Isn’t this great?” Joohyun asks somewhere between the fourth and fifth song, clapping along to the beat as she moves from side to side. One thing is for certain, and it’s that all music majors have never been the most fantastic dancers. They’d rather transcribe the music than bop to it.

“Yeah, for you,” you scoff.

“Just because I play upright bass in the uni’s jazz band—”

“Whatever, string player!” You exclaim, waving her off and pretending to disregard her objection. She gasps in mock-offense, appalled that you would refer to her as such a scandalous name like string player, and you both hold your poses for a quick second before bursting into laughter. As you turn your focus back to the band in front of you, you make eye contact with the drummer, sitting in the back and casually drumming through the second verse of the song. God, you hate it when you awkwardly lock eyes with someone, because nine times out of ten both of you just tensely smile at each other and go on with your lives, and then the interaction is stuck in your head for the rest of the night. But this time is one of those rare occurrences, where in place of a tense smile rests a smirk on the offending drummer’s face and this awful glint in your eye that has your flirt radar going haywire.

You look away immediately, not wanting to prolong the eye contact any longer than you absolutely have to, eyes shifting to your half-finished drink sitting on the table. The look he sent you sends shivers down your spine, and not in a particularly good way (not in a bad way either, though). You direct your attention to another member, avoiding the gaze of the drummer until you’re absolutely certain he’s not looking at you anymore. You don’t know what he’s thinking in that brain of his, but you’d rather not find out.

The set ends after what you think is about seven songs, though it feels like a mere instant in your mind. You don’t know how the final song came so quickly, but it comes and goes in a flash, and suddenly Joohyun is applauding obnoxiously beside you.

“They were good,” Namjoon says. “But I bet Seokjin could do better.”

“Seokjin plays jazz guitar,” you comment, a skeptical look on your face. You highly doubt Seokjin would know the ways of punk sheet music. He sometimes has a difficult time with regular concert music.

“And he’s fucking great at it,” Namjoon tells you, and you concede, because his solos are the reason your jazz band always wins Districts.

“Y/N! Come on, we should try and meet the group!” Joohyun urges, getting you out of her seat with that wonderfully bubbly expression of hers.

You turn your attention to where Joohyun is looking, and see a hefty line of a bunch of people who seem to have the exact same idea as her, waiting by the hallway to see if they can catch a glimpse of the next big thing.

“I don’t know, don’t you think that the line is a bit… long?” You ask, hesitant. You came here for free drinks and good music, not an autograph.

“No! It’s only a couple of people,” Joohyun says, waving it off like it’s nothing.

“It’s not like they’re celebrities, they’re just average guys who play instruments,” you insist, really not keen on getting out of your seat and going to try and meet them. You’d rather not risk coming in contact with Smirking Drummer, if fate allows you to have any say in the matter. “We’re like them, only less metal.”

“But we’re music major geeks,” Joohyun says, and while you know she’s not upset that she’s a nerd who likes classical music, you’re also aware that punk band member and concert band member don’t exactly go hand in hand. “They’re the cooler version of us.”

“Do I really have to go?” You ask, whining at this point.

“I’ll buy you another drink.”

Rule Number 3: Never turn down free alcohol.

“Fine,” you say, getting up and flinging your leather jacket over your shoulder. “I’ll do it for the booze.”

“You girls let me know when you need a ride home,” Namjoon says. “I’ve only had one drink tonight, so I can drive you.”

“Thank you, big, strong, heavyweight drum major!” Joohyun singsongs, and you don’t get the chance to say anything before she’s pulling you away as you watch Namjoon chuckle to himself.

Joohyun gets you your drink as promised, and somewhere along the way after that you lose her to the crowd, watching her lavender hair bounce away under the light as you’re left by the bar, sipping your cocktail and waiting for a glimpse of her. You know she’ll come around, she won’t get sucked into the fifteen minutes of fame and traipse off with a guy, because even drunk she’s decently reasonable, and she also has a girlfriend in Fashion Merchandising whom she loves very much. You just have to wait for her, which is the (un)fun part.

You set your drink down on the counter and pull out your phone, letting Namjoon know that you’ve lost Joohyun entirely and that you might end up waiting a while, when a figure clad in black and silver casually stands next to you. You pay no attention to them, shrugging it off as another person desperate for a quick fix, when the voice speaks to you.

“Why’d you look away so soon?” It asks.

You turn and, just as fate would have it—you should have known you would end up meeting him, one way or another—next to you stands the very drummer.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“When I looked at you,” he elaborates, “you looked away. Why? Scared?”

“Of who?” You ask, arms crossed. “Of you?”

“Of me. My music, my band, my charming smile,” the drummer says, flashing you that smirk he sent you from up on stage. It’s a look that he’s probably practiced a thousand times, a smirk that he knows will work.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say.

“What do you do, hmm? You look too young to be out of university,” he asks. “I’m gonna guess. Interior design? English? Philosophy?”

“Try music.”

That catches his attention. “Music, hmm? What is it? Violin? Cello? Flute?”

You stiffen at his words. “Why do you care so much?”

“Flute it is, then. Suits you, I think,” he confirms, a smug look written all over his face. “With that flower in your hair like a fairy. You’re soft.”

“I am not!” You object, scoffing as you reach a hand up to grab the flower, pulling it out of your hair and throwing it to the floor, stomping on it like you’re putting out a cigarette butt. Sorry, Joohyun. “If you thought I was a soft spoken, innocent flute major who’d love to get in your pants, then you’re picking on the wrong girl.”

“Ooh,” the drummer says, wincing. “She bites.”

“She’s not afraid to.”

“Alright then,” he says, hands up in surrender. “How about a friend to talk to instead? You can take another sip of your drink, loosen up, and we can chat. No sex required.”

“Sorry,” you say, raising a hand quickly to get the bartender’s attention. Once you’ve got it, you hand over the drink, making up some bullshit excuse about how you weren’t feeling it anymore, and turn back around. “But I can’t trust that. For all I know, you could have put something in my Sangria.”

“She’s smart, too,” he muses.

“Not smart, just aware. Thanks for the chat, but I have to go pick up my friend before she gets trampled by your fans. Maybe some other time?” You say, knowing that you have no intention of having ‘some other time’.

“For the record, I didn’t drug your drink,” he says, grabbing your wrist but not in a possessive way. Just so he can squeeze in another couple sentences. “But I’m Taehyung.”

“I’m not interested,” you say, and he easily lets you out of his grasp. You swear you see a head of lavender by the doorway.

“Alright, Not Interested,” Taehyung says, “I’ll see you around. We play here often, you know.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, now you do.” He smiles, and it’s not that classic, signature smirk that you’ve seen plenty of times, it’s a different type of grin, one that tells you that he’s enjoyed his time, however brief it was, with you tonight. “Looking forward to seeing you at another gig.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, Drummer Boy. They always say that you can never trust flute players.”

With that, you’re flagging down Joohyun with a call of her name, Taehyung the Drummer Boy getting pushed to the back of your mind.

Joohyun never ended up actually meeting them, you would find out, which is the exact reason why you’re back at that same bar, sitting in the same seats, waiting for them to get on stage. To be honest, you have no idea how you ended up here again, especially after insisting to Taehyung that you would not be back. Way to fucking eat your words.

“Can’t we just go?” You ask her, tugging on her arm and looking longingly towards the door. It’s not too late to back out now. “What if they play all of the same songs?”

“I bought their album on iTunes,” Joohyun says. “I don’t really mind if I hear the songs live again.”

“I do,” you say, desperate.

“Boohoo. I wanna meet them, Y/N,” she quips back, and you know you’ve lost this battle before the following words leave her mouth. “You’d never leave me alone in a bar to fend for myself, would you?”

“No,” you huff, slouching in your seat as you brace for the worst.

When the chatter dies down and the stage lights flicker on, you immediately duck your head down in an attempt to avoid getting recognized, but to no avail. Joohyun grabs your arm and pulls you up at the same time that Taehyung walks onto the stage, and it’s not very difficult to miss the cocky grin scrawled all over his lips as you meet eyes. Goddamnit.

Rather than look away, however, you roll your eyes dramatically, knowing that he’s still gazing at you from behind the drumset. He won’t intimidate you any longer. Your reaction makes Taehyung laugh, tossing his head back casually as he chuckles in response. Normally, when you see people on stage from where you’re seated below, they look ethereal, like gods, like immortals, but watching Taehyung laugh so normally, so easily, it doesn’t make him look like any of those things. He just looks human.

“Who are you staring at?” Joohyun asks, noticing how your eyes always seem to be drifting to one person in particular. “Oh! Is it the drummer? He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“A little.”

“Only a little?” Joohyun says, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical fashion. “Come on, Y/N. I know you.”

“He’s kinda cute,” you finally relent, admitting the statement more to yourself than to Joohyun. There’s no denying Taehyung’s attractiveness, even to a stickler such as yourself.

You don’t take your eyes off of Taehyung throughout his band’s entire set, sitting back in your seat with your arms crossed over your torso, a smirk playing on your lips. Every now and then, he will turn to look your way, letting his hands do the work for him as he gazes at you. At one point, he gets off beat while you two are having another one of your staring contests, and he only notices once you raise your eyebrows to remind him that he should be fucking paying attention to the music he plays. You: 1, Taehyung: 0.

Not unlike last time, the set whizzes by, your mind once again occupied with thoughts of Taehyung, and suddenly he’s joining the rest of his members at the front of the stage for a quick celebratory bow as the lights in the seating area flicker back on the the spotlights dim.

“Fuck, the line’s already piling up,” Joohyun says, whipping her head backwards to see a heap of people by the backstage door. “I’m gonna go. You stay here, okay? So I can find you afterwards.”

“Are you sure about that?” You ask, looking down at her very large and very empty glass.

“It’s fine! I’ll remember,” she says, quickly waving you off as she shuffles away, worming herself into the herd.

At least she didn’t make you come with.

Another sip of your martini hits your throat as you down it, thinking that it’ll be easier to pass the time a bit buzzed than totally sober. It’s calming, sitting here in the hazy purple lights of the bar as the world moves around you, especially with the knowledge that Taehyung is probably trapped in that crowd, surrounded by excited fans who just want a glimpse of him and his brown eyes.

“Is this seat taken?”

“This one? Yes, actually,” you say, not looking towards the owner of the voice, though it is strangely familiar. This isn’t a good sign. Strangely familiar voices asking if a seat next to you is taken is never a good sign. Someone plops down in the seat anyway, and you know who it is before you even turn to them.

“I looked pretty cool up there, didn’t I?” Taehyung asks, taking a long, slow sip of a bright green beverage. “Is that why you kept staring at me?”

“You only looked cool because the lights were so dark and no one could see your actual face,” you quip back.

“Aw, don’t be like that. Dim light looks good on me,” Taehyung says, pouting.

You scoff, forcing a chuckle from your throat. “Sure thing, Drummer Boy.”

“Well, Not Interested, I’m pretty impressed that you managed to show up to another one of my gigs. Thought I couldn’t trust flute players,” Taehyung says, the drink giving him this warm glow to his face.

“My friend didn’t get a chance to meet you guys last time, so she dragged me here again,” you explain, trying to get the message across that you most certainly Did Not Come For Him. “Don’t think you’re so special.”

“I kind of am, don’t you think?” Taehyung asks. “Special enough to warrant a return from the girl who isn’t interested.”

“I didn’t come here for you.”

“You got me anyway.”

Oh, he’s so unbearable. Unbearably cocky, unbearably flirty, unbearably cute. Wait, what?

“Don’t you have another person to try and charm?” You ask him, a little flustered that he’s got the perfect response to every single one of your comments. “Or am I the unlucky one?”

“I’m not trying to sleep with you. I just wanna get to know you a bit better. You’re an interesting one, Not Interested,” Taehyung says as he looks you up and down. “And not in a bad way.”

“Never met many flute players that wear leather jackets and take shit from nobody?”

“You’re the first one, believe it or not.”

“I’m in shock,” You deadpan.

“Do you have an actual name I can call you by, or is Not Interested satisfactory enough for you?” Taehyung asks, chugging down another gulp of his drink.

“I don’t know, Not Interested has kind of a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” You hum. “Really gets the message across.”

“Believe me, message received,” Taehyung says, and it’s actually quite comforting knowing Taehyung’s not one of those stubborn guys who won’t take no for an answer, not one of those ruthlessly persistent frat boys who just want a quick fuck for the night. He’s accepted your answer and he’s not trying to change it.

“In that case, I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Taehyung repeats, like he’s testing how the name sounds flowing off of his tongue, seeing if it’s suitable for his golden lips to utter. “I think that has a much nicer ring to it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” Taehyung says, leaning over towards you and swirling that fluorescent drink in his hands, eyelids hooded. “You should tell people your name more often. Don’t you want to hear them say it? Moan it?”

There it is, the moodwrecker. Surprisingly enough, Taehyung’s sultry voice doesn’t do much to deter you from talking to him like it normally would if he were, say, a sleazy frat boy. If he keeps it up, it might give him a leg up on the situation.

“Only the right people,” you murmur in response, letting Taehyung lean closer, closer, lips puckering up ever so slightly… before you prod his chest with your pointer finger, pushing him right back into his chair, listening to it skid across the wood.

Taehyung looks sort of winded after that, palm flat on his chest as he catches the breath he didn’t even know he lost. He looks up at you, dazed and stunned, with his mouth open in something akin to shock, perhaps? He runs a hand through that silky brown hair of his, letting his bangs flop over his forehead as they leave contact with his fingers, and he smiles. “Not me, then, I suppose?” He asks you.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” you say, shrugging apologetically but with a cheeky little grin nonetheless.

“Yet?” Taehyung repeats like it’s a challenge. And it mostly is.

“I’m not partial to anyone in particular, you know,” you inform him.

“Guess I better work a little harder, then,” he replies, and if that isn’t flirting then you’ll never know what is.

It’s simultaneously a relief and a bummer to see Joohyun bouncing towards where you’re seated, steps light and airy despite the fact that, to your knowledge, she hasn’t had anything more to drink. She pauses right before she reaches you, and you don’t realize why until you follow her eyes straight to where they’re gazing, which just so happens to be Taehyung’s smirking face.

“Is that—”

“Taehyung, at your service. Is this your friend, Y/N? The one with good taste?” Taehyung says, and he’s got that flirty vibe to him, the same one that surrounded him when he first spoke to you. It must be second nature, at this point, to see a pretty girl and immediately his brain switches off, replaced by none other than his dick.

“If she’s looking at you, I’d hardly say she’s got good taste,” you mutter. “Though you must probably assume anybody who gives you the time of day has got excellent standards.”

“Do you know him or something, Y/N?” Joohyun asks, positively astounded at the fact that she’s watching the two of you banter like old friends.

“No,” you immediately tell her, “we just met recently.”

“But it feels like I’ve known her for a lifetime.”

God-fucking-damnit, he always has such a perfectly cheesy retort for everything that you say. It’s hard to keep on top with him, but you’ve never been one to back away from a challenge.

“Can’t relate,” you deadpan, shutting him down entirely. “Ready to go, Joohyun?”

“Sure, if that’s okay with Taehyung,” she says, looking awkwardly from you to him was that hesitant lilt to her voice. “If I’m interrupting something…”

“You two ladies have a wonderful rest of your night,” Taehyung says, tipping his head like he’s the lead in a 1920’s silent film. You watch him get up and send you a sneaky wink when he knows you’re gazing at him, and the action alone makes you scoff as you turn your head around.

“You know, I got to talking with Hoseok, he’s one of the guitarists, and apparently he knows Seokjin! Isn’t that cool?” Joohyun exclaims as you’re walking out of the bar, hitting your arm like she always does whenever she’s excited about something. “I had no idea.”

“Seokjin knows Hoseok? How?” Guess the man had more roots to punk music than you thought.

“Apparently they did this guitar thing together back in high school! We’ll have to invite Hoseok to one of our next jazz performances somewhere,” Joohyun says, and the very idea is so entertaining to the both of you that Taehyung and his flirty little self once again get lost in the crannies of your mind.

Taehyung means nothing to you.

Alright, he means something to you. But a very small, insignificant something. It’s got to be the drinks that are compelling you to return to that hazy purple bar, not anything (or anyone) else.

It doesn’t even matter, because this time, when you show up to the bar alone, Taehyung’s band isn’t playing. Not that you’re surprised, especially because you did walk in without any knowledge of his gig schedule, but it is strangely disappointing to not see them setting up on stage, preparing for another performance. Like it was the only thing you were looking forward to.

Well, you’re here now, and you don’t want to practice the flute solo that Joohyun and Seokjin are forcing you to play for the university’s jazz band thing on Friday, so there really is no better way to spend the night other than piss drunk, or at least mildly hammered.

This isn’t a club by any means, which equates to no dance floor for you to embarrass yourself at, thank God. Standing by the counter has always done you well, especially because you can easily see which creepy middle-aged man is trying to flirt with you, so you stick to your spot and let your mind get hazy.

At least you’re a little bit buzzed when you see him. You’ve finished the first glass but it’s not enough to have you on the floor, so while you’re still well aware of your surroundings, your brain is moving a little slower than top speed.

What also is moving a little slower than top speed is Taehyung as he tumbles out of a hallway near the back, where things wait that you don’t want to know about. He’s dizzy and loopy, feet stepping on top of each other, but you’re not paying much attention to that. Your eyes, however foggy they may be, are focused on the girl on his arm, and from her disheveled hair and his lack of balance to the hallway they just emerged from, it’s not very difficult to put two and two together, even for a drunk you.

Guess Taehyung decided to show up after all. Only, sans band. Because that’s a thing.

Well, whatever. He can do what he wants, can’t he? You came here to forget that awful flute solo you absolutely must practice, not for him.

Even so, you can’t help but let your eyes wander their way every now and then (every two seconds, give or take a few) as they drunkenly giggle before the girl is off of his shoulder, blending in with the rest of the desperate bar-goers who thought getting totally fucking zazzed on a Tuesday night would be a good idea. Like you. Like him.

You wonder how on Earth that one-night-stand was so short that it didn’t even last a full night, but that’s a 2AM question for another time. Right now, you’re a bit occupied with the fumbling drunk man who’s approaching you.

“Y/N?” Fumbling drunk man has approached. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting drunk,” you tell Taehyung, grabbing his arm so he can prop himself up on the counter to prevent him from toppling right over, which he very much looks like he’s about to do.

“I did that already,” Taehyung groans, and holy shit, he’s a whiny drunk. This you did not anticipate under every circumstance under the sun. “I wanna do something else.”

“Well, go do something else on that couch over there,” you say. “Like taking a nap, ‘cause you sure as hell need one right now.”

“Naps are boring,” he whines. You turn to the bartender and make a desperate ‘my-sort-of-friend-is-sloppy-drunk-may-I-please-get-some-water’ face, and it has to be a face that that poor bartender has seen often, because within another thirty seconds he’s handing over a fresh, cold glass of ice water.

“Drink this,” you say, shoving the water in Taehyung’s face. “Drink this and then I’m calling an Uber and I’m taking you and your post-sex self back home. Or at least to Hoseok’s place.”

Taehyung whines again, and it’s really not a good look for him when he’s dressed up in all of this black leather and silver chains, but he complies, taking a tiny little sip of water and letting it slowly begin to wash away the taste of vodka on his tongue.

“You know I think you’re pretty, right?” Taehyung slurs.

“Yes, I assumed so, otherwise you wouldn’t keep flirting with me every time you spot me from across the room,” you say, patting his back somewhat soothingly as he continues to lap up the condensation on the glass. There are things you thought you’d see tonight, and things like Taehyung licking all the way around his glass.

“Then why don’t you like me back,” he whines, and it doesn’t really sound like a lovesick puppy question when the words leave his lips. More like a childish complaint, only with sincerity.

“You are so fucking toast,” you mutter to yourself. Before he gets a chance to slur out another soppy sentence, you’re feeling around his body, patting your palms all over his lower torso and jeans so you can find his phone and get the hell out of here. Taehyung, ever the romantic, takes the gesture a different way.

“What’s this for, Y/N?” He murmurs, and you’d find it totally off-putting if the mood wasn’t ruined by the redness of his face.

“For you to shut the hell up,” you order, locating the device and pressing down on the Home button, commanding Siri’s attention. You manage to get Hoseok on the line, poor guy, awake at 2AM on a Tuesday.

“Taehyung? What are you calling me for now?”

“It’s not Taehyung, it’s Taehyung’s temporary guardian. Um, he’s totally hammered and I need to get him back to his place or yours or just… someone’s, so could you give me an address?”

You end up dropping Taehyung off at Hoseok’s doorstep (“There’s no way Taehyung would have remembered his own apartment key”, said Hoseok when you asked), watching him tumble out of the Uber and forcing him upright so he at least looks somewhat presentable for Hoseok at 2AM.

“Thanks for doing this,” Taehyung mutters as his head crashes onto your shoulder, making you jump at the sudden contact.

“'S my job,” you say, shrugging him as you buzz what you really hope is Hoseok’s apartment. “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

Hoseok opens the door almost instantaneously, bags under his eyes prominent, but he’s awake and prepared to resolve all of Taehyung’s drunk problems for the next however many hours.

“You both look like wrecks,” Hoseok deadpans when he sees the both of you, and the statement is hardly far from the truth. Taehyung is a messy, whiny drunk and you were given the daunting task of making sure he doesn’t die, so neither of you are really up to par on your appearances at the given moment.

“Him more than I,” you say, pushing Taehyung towards Hoseok. He stumbles over to his band mate, grabbing onto the man’s shoulders for support so he doesn’t collapse. “At least he didn’t pass out.”

“I’ll sober him up. Taehyung doesn’t get super drunk like this very often, so I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Hoseok promises. “You’re…?”

“Y/N,” you finish with a yawn.

“Y/N…” Hoseok says, like the name rings a bell. “Oh, I know! You play with Seokjin, in your jazz band.”

“Only sometimes,” you insist, not trying to let the heathens of jazz band tarnish your good first-chair-concert-flutist name. “Just when they need me to.”

“You’re doing that show on Friday, right? I’m gonna try and come, catch up with Seokjin,” Hoseok says, and he’s doing quite a fine job of both holding Taehyung up with his entire body and maintaining a nice, un-awkward conversation with you.

“Oh, well I guess I’ll see you there, then,” you say, turning to walk down his front steps and find another way home, the Uber having long gone.

“Wait, Y/N,” Taehyung calls out, and oh no, oh God, this is gonna be some romance movie shit and you are entirely unprepared for it, especially with how rapid your heartbeat has become with his eyes on you. You turn around hesitantly, already internally wincing, only to see Taehyung looking both longingly and apologetically your way. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

The night is quiet, even in this city, but your heart is loud and it rings in your ears, over and over.

By Friday, you’ve got your solo down to a science. Or at least, most of it. It’s probably fine, since you aren’t being judged and are just doing this performance for the hell of it, a good chance for you to practice should you ever decide to join the barbarians of jazz band. Which you will not be doing, but Joohyun tried her very best.

The venue is this outdoors-y picnic area, but it’s been totally decked out for the music festival you’re participating in, a gathering of the community for some good times and good music. You’re surprised to see that Taehyung’s band isn’t on the list, though Hoseok did tell you he’d show up as a part of the audience, rather than the performers. Suppose the rest of the members had this day off to do whatever they want, a music festival not at the top of their radars.

You feel so out of place with the jazz band, though you often do as the only uninitiated True Jazz Member, with your tiny little flute case in comparison to their heavy bass drum boxes and huge baritone saxophone cases. It’s like walking into a classroom where everyone has at least four notebooks and two three-ring binders, and you’re the one with a simple folder and a pencil. You belong, but not really.

“You ready to go?” Joohyun asks, and she’s running off of that pre-performance high, all bubbly before the set.

“I couldn’t be any more ready,” you say, shrugging as you tug on your black jacket. There’s no dress code for this thing, but your university’s jazz band has a thing for black and white because they have no originality, so that’s what you’re wearing.

“Great! We’re on in three,” she exclaims.

Three minutes goes by, somehow, too quickly and not quick enough, and suddenly you’re seated right by the bari sax player with your flute resting awkwardly in your lap, fingers mindlessly tapping the keys as the announcer introduces you. It’s not the solo you’re worried about, since you could probably fuck up about 18 times and no one in the crowd would really notice, not unless they were a Music Professional, it’s more the fact that you know Hoseok is out there somewhere, sitting in the crowd and waiting for you.

You finally spot him, in the middle of the hubbub, but what has your eyes widening is the fact that Taehyung is right next to him, a lopsided grin on his face that totally juxtaposes his all black getup. He doesn’t see that you’ve noticed him from that far away, and thank God, because suddenly your heart is thumping against your chest and you don’t think you’ll be able to calm it down before you have to go up to the mic and do your solo.

Before you know it, the band is starting and the music is in full swing, Seokjin opening up with a sick couple of chords before the rest of the members join in, every beat in sync. It’s pretty easy to let yourself get drowned out by the rest of the instruments, especially those goddamn trumpets, but the alarms are going off in your brain, reminding you that Taehyung is very much here and very much about to hear you solo.

The clock ticks down with each song until it’s the ballad that they all forced you to solo for, and you let your body run on autopilot as your feet bring you towards the mic as the piano part begins, both in dynamics and in instruments. You allow yourself one more look Taehyung’s way, and he’s watching you with the stage lights reflected in his irises.

One deep breath, and you’re closing your eyes, letting yourself feel your way through the music. You’ve practiced this solo dozens of times, it’s practically muscle memory at this point, and maybe you do hit a wrong F# in the middle of it somewhere, but other than that it’s flawless and fast, even if you’re performing a ballad. Jazz flute solos are always weird because they’re soft but meant to be spruced up a bit so they don’t sound like classical music, but you execute yours with ease.

It’s muscle memory that drags you back to your seat once the solo has ended, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Taehyung applauding from his seat, a little smirk etched on his face, and even though you’re no longer in the spotlight your heart still pounds, slowly beating its way out of your chest.

With the big hullabaloo over, the set finishes in what feels like a total breeze, letting the jazz consume you as Seokjin takes a killer solo during the last song that makes everyone lose their damn minds. People just have a thing for guitar players, especially handsome ones.

Once you finish your final song and shuffle off the stage, sweaty and still bouncing from that adrenaline rush, Seokjin gives you a great big hug.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. Your solo was fantastic,” Seokjin says. “Best flute solo I’ve ever heard.”

“Aren’t I the only flute soloist?”

“And that makes you the best.”

“Y/N!” Joohyun shrieks, wrapping her arms around you from behind as she nearly picks you up, toes almost off of the ground. “You were fantastic! You totally have to join jazz next year.”

“Over my dead body,” you retort back. Concert band is your one and only home.

When you’ve packed away all of your instruments and are free to roam, you end up losing Joohyun somewhere in the festivities, leaving you alone with Seokjin, who just so happens to drag you to Hoseok, who happens to be attending the festival with Taehyung. He’s always the endgame, goddamnit.

“Seokjin!” Hoseok shouts when he sees the taller boy, pulling him in for one of those grab-hands-then-pat-each-other-on-the-back-unceremoniously bro hugs. “You sounded killer. You should come practice with the band.”

“I don’t know if the punk life is for me,” Seokjin says, chuckling, but you stop paying attention to their conversation there, too distracted with a certain someone striding his way over to you, hands stuffed casually in the pockets of his ripped black jeans.

“Sounded good, flute player,” Taehyung says. “We should practice together, someday. Have one of those solo-offs.”

You scoff. “Please, I’d beat you in that so hard you’d get whiplash.”

“I see what you did there.”

You shoot a finger gun his way. It’s nice to see he’s got the same taste in movies as you.

“I’m serious, though. You’ll, uh, you’ll have to teach me a couple things on the flute,” Taehyung says, a hand flying up to rub the nape of his neck, chains clinking with the movement. “You looked badass up there.”

“Only if you’ll show me how to drum like a professional,” you bargain, a sly grin growing on your lips. “Is that a deal?”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees with a firm nod of his head. “Is that a date?”

And honestly, what do you have to lose with him? He already makes your heart race more than you care to admit. “Deal.”

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