#he looks petite and [crowd boos] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chryblossomjjk · 2 years

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practice (pt. 2) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: implied family issues, photography major jk in full effect, casual titty sucking (lol), oral sex (f receiving), ass eating and motorboating?, handjob, unprotected sex (crowd boos and throws tomatoes), a bit of spanking, talk of sex toys, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, slight dom and sub oc, slight sub and dom jk, shower head as vibrator (everyone w a clit has done this pls-), some manhandling, anal play, shower floor sex !!!, very slight cum eating, creampie, oc reflects on how far she’s fallen, oc still hates men, maybe unrequited love, maybe not

⇢ SUMMARY: everything is wet. you and jungkook tangled up on the shower floor. your eyes afterwards.

⇢ NOTES: yOu’Re WeLcOmE rEaDeRs. this was only going to be a one shot but i was manipulated into making it a three part series bc of u all >:((! lol kidding love u babies! tbh i'm a bit disappointed with this piece. i really loved it when i outlined it but for some reason it just didn’t come together how i would’ve hoped. i tried my best guys rip. hopefully part three will be better. anyways, feedback is greatly greatly appreciated!! thank you again for all the engagement on part one if you’re new pls go read it and check out my masterlist here. ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO MY BBY @here4btsfics FOR BETAING LEGIT COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT U!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“You look miserable.”

You were miserable.

The air at the frat party was suffocating. Sweaty bodies grinding against one another, nudging your shoulder as they shimmied by. The strobe lights made your vision splotchy and the blaring speakers had your head pounding. Plus, you could already feel the makeup sinking into your pores. An oil cleanse is needed asap.

“You look like a hot mess,” you snap at the boy in front of you. His stringy bangs stick to his clammy forehead, poking out from underneath his black bucket hat. The neck of his dark gray t-shirt is stretched to one side from the pull of petite, manicured fingers. Pink lip gloss is smeared across his lips, making a glittery trail down his neck. Sore red marks already blooming. “It’s late.”

“It’s only like-” Jungkook looks at his watch. “1 a.m.”

“Yeah, late. I have a test in the morning.”

“Go home.”

That was the problem. The two only people you really knew at the party, Mina and Taehyung, snuck off into a grimy bathroom to fuck eachother’s brains out. That was an hour ago. How long could they really go at it? You explain this to Jungkook with a sigh. “If they’re not back in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to flip.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill.” Jungkook chuckles, plopping down on the brown corduroy couch next to you. A drop of alcohol spills over the edge of his red solo cup, landing right on your bare thigh. “You can’t go by yourself?”

“I’m a woman, Jungkook.”

“Ah, right,” he nods, thumb brushing away the dark liquid on your skin before putting it in his mouth. Goosebumps form instantaneously as you watch in utter shock. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Bambi, but I don’t think a dude would touch you with a ten foot pole. You’re kinda fucking scary.”

You glare at him, fluffy brows furrowed into sharp slants. Deep scowl on your shiny pout.

“See?” He laughs, tattooed digits coming up to pinch the baby fat of your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“No,” you huff, slapping his hand away. The subtle touch was enough to feel how surprisingly soft his skin is. “I’ll go get Mina and Taehyung-” you scoof, getting up from the tattered material under you.

“Chill.” His fingers catch the ruffled hem of your dress, knuckles brushing against the back of your thigh.

The audacity.

“Let them do their thing. I’ll take care of you.”

“Aren’t you in the middle of-” your eyes flicker over to Nayeon, who had been attached to Jungkook’s neck all night prior. She’s on the opposite side of the room, swaying back and forth, watching him cautiously. No doubt wondering if the illusive man had slipped from her grasp, onto the next girl that caught his fleeting attention. “-A thing?”

“Nayeon is cool.” He glances over his shoulder, gnawing on the silver ring on the corner of his lip. He nervously rolls the material of your dress between his thumb and index finger. Your eyes widen at the motion. Why was he being so… handsy tonight? “She’ll understand.”

Even from a distance, you can see the disappointed glint in her eyes when he explains that he’s heading out for the night.

The air outside is much nicer. The wind brushes through the cracks in the trees, kissing the leaves with a seemingly soft gust. The brunt of the blow isn’t felt until the wind is gone, and the unsuspecting leaves slowly dwindle to the ground. Confused as to how something so delicate and graceful led to their demise.

“Ugh, fuck,” Jungkook snarls, sticking out his pink tongue after taking a sip of whatever drink he had been nursing. “Shit’s like battery acid.”

You giggle, turning your head to get a better look at him. He looks so pretty in the moonlight. Even prettier than usual, you think. Your eyes dart back to the sidewalk under your feet.

“Here,” he passes the plastic cup towards you. “I can’t drink anymore.”

“Ew, I don’t want your backwash, Jeon.” You scoff, holding your balled fists to your chest in disgust.

“I’ve been known to spit in a mouth every now and then… never had any complaints.”

God, he’s so crude.

“I told you, I have a test to take.”

“Oh please,” he persists. “I take all my tests hungover.”

“What tests?” You surrender, finally accepting the poisonous drink. A quick whiff of the mysterious liquid confirms his earlier sentiments. It was most definitely battery acid. “You’re a photography major.”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Jungkook chants, pumping his fist in the air for emphasis.

“Stop peer pressuring me!” You say exasperatedly, words riddled with broken laughter. He’s so insufferably annoying but… weirdly adorable.

He continues, shouting louder until you down the drink in one big gulp, gagging at the putrid aftertaste. He cheers, no concern for the sleeping students who can surely hear his booming voice through their thin dormitory walls.

“I’m a bad influence on you. You’re turning into me.”

“You wish.”

“Not Bambi anymore, hm?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before plopping it onto your head. “Gonna have to call you my baby.”

The breeze does nothing to ease the burning in your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, Jungkook.”

“Oh God… you sound like my parents,” he laughs. It wasn’t the one you had become accustomed to throughout your brief friendship. The high-pitched infectious one that always coaxed a similar sound out of you.

This laugh was sarcastic. Devoid of joy.

“I’m so drunk that you look like ‘em too.”

You glance up from the crushed cup. He looks… sad. You’ve never seen Jungkook sad, or even serious for that matter. His lips are pulled into a tight line, chin covered little dents as he tries to contain his emotions.

Whatever he was feeling, you never want him to feel it again.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head, back pressing against the entrance of your building, prepared to push it open for you.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” you frown, halting your steps. You can’t leave until that heart wrenching expression stops tainting his features.

“My parents are like… old school,” he shrugs, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I was so sheltered growing up. I feel like I missed out on a lot and I just… they wanted me to go to law school. Can you believe that? Me? A lawyer?”

Jungkook was a person you never expected to relate to. Sure, you were casual friends, but you chalk that up to circumstance. He just so happened to be a friend of your roommate’s boyfriend. Your interactions up until this point had been playful banter. Nothing incredibly deep.

Honestly, you didn’t even think he was capable of complex emotions.

You feel guilty about that now.

“They sound like mine,” you admit. “They completely tie my worth to my academic success.”

“But you’re good at that. Thinking.” His fingers tap against his temple before rubbing in soothing circles, trying to coax the cogs in his skull to spin. “You’re the most intelligent person I know and I’m not just saying that because I like you.”

“Thank you,” you peep. You’ve always suspected that Jungkook secretly hated you.

Hate is a strong word and you’re very dramatic.

But nothing about your lifestyles are parallel. They’re perpendicular, moving in two completely separate directions. Only crossing paths every now and then.

Too different and incompatible.

“My brain doesn’t work like that- watch your step,” he warns, pointing at a divet between the concrete and tile as you finally step inside.

“I don’t like to think. I like to see. I’m a visual person.” He’s talking with so much passion, hands moving about to show you what his words couldn’t. You watch in awe.

“They don’t get that. Like when I got these,” he holds his inked arm out for your viewing pleasures. “My dad bugged out. ‘You’ll never get a good job with those doodles on your arm.’”

His tone was so exaggerated that you couldn’t help but giggle, shoulder knocking against his as you walked. He laughs too.

“I don’t really give a shit about the future. I care about now. I want to experience everything I can, right now. To me, life is about living in the moment. Photography is literally like-” his eyes squint, darting around the hallway as he looks for the right words. “Like- snapshots of the present.”

He got so carried away that he didn’t realize you had reached your destination. You blink at him.

“I’m sorry.” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was stupid,”

“No!” You lower your voice immediately, embarrassed at your sudden outburst. “I actually…” You pause, contemplating your next words.

“I wish I was m-”

“I want to be-”

You both pause this time. Jungkook nods his head towards you, giving you the green light to speak first.

“In some ways, I wish I was more like you.”

“Yeah.” He hums with a soft smile, leaning against your doorframe. So delicate and graceful. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

You gulp, completely and utterly rattled. Your shaky hands fiddle with your keys, struggling to fit them into the lock.

Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? It’s just Jungkook.

He laughs, steadying your jittery hand with his own and helping you slot the metal in.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say meekly, avoiding eye contact as you enter the dark room. “For what it’s worth… I think your tattoos are really cool.”

“And I think you’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he smirks, backing away from the doorway and waving at you. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

Much to your dismay, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up.

“Jungkook, wait! Your hat!”

“Nah, keep it!” He shouts down the hallway. “It looks better on you anyway!”

“Jungkook, stop,” you whine, back arching off your white cotton duvet. The soft tongue twisting around your nipple makes it incredibly difficult to focus on your cracked phone screen. “This episode is important. We meet Sailor Mars.”

“Sorry, Bambi,” He grunts, wet mouth reluctantly popping off your stiff bud. “Got distracted.”

It’s been a little under two month of this. Of you and him.

Having sex, exchanging sweet words and touches, going back to just friends. Rinse and repeat.

Blissful peaks and exhausting valleys. A rollercoaster of emotions with no logical endpoint in sight. You tried not to think about that part often though.

It was easy to distract yourself from the truth when Jungkook brought you lunch during the gap in his classes, or when he agreed to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety without much pushing. Atleast you could pretend he was yours in those little moments of affection.

You huff, pulling the crumpled t-shirt, his t-shirt, back over your chest. Your heart was still pounding from your last round an hour or so ago, and him casually sucking on your nipple while streaming a cartoon didn’t help.

“She’s your favorite?” He questions, propping his head up on the heel of his hand as he lays on his side. You nod, gaze flickering over to him. His previous activities had made his teddy bear headband slouch forward. You use one of the plush brown ears to pull it back into place.

Although sweet and attentive, Jungkook wasn’t immune to the innate disadvantages that came with being a man.

Like not knowing how to wash his face properly.

You watched in horror a couple weeks ago as scrubbed his face in your bathroom sink. Bangs and all. An order for a cute bear headband, the same brand as your kitty ones, was placed immediately. The way he smiled when you gave it to him would forever be burned into your memory.

“Makes sense,” he hums. “Mars is the planet of war.”

You side-eye him, knowing exactly what he was implying with that snide comment. “Just watch the show, Jeon.”

“I am.” His wavering attention turns back to your phone. “I love 90's animation. It was basically all done by hand, see?” He points at the scene behind Usagi; a blue watercolor sky fading into a baby pink. Clearly hand drawn. It was a detail you never noticed before.

“And the saturation is higher so the colors look brighter.”

“Your major is showing,” you say, using an eye roll to suppress the smile dancing on your lips. You don’t want to disturb the hydrating sheet mask on your face, resting in just the right position. You also don’t want to clue him in on how cute you find his artistic rambles.

“Speaking of that,” he laughs, resting his cheek against your chest, unable to stay in one position for too long. He’s like that in the bedroom too. You sigh as dry bits of his face mask crumble off his temple and onto the black fabric. Baby steps. “You’re still coming to the showcase, right?

Jungkook’s big end-of-semester project was to create a photography portfolio on a topic of his choosing. There was going to be a cute little gallery event to display the work of him and his classmates. It was hard not to get your hopes up when he invited you.

That was a sign that maybe, just maybe, the feeling was mutual. Right?

“Right,” you answer him curtly. “Now tell me what topic you picked, demon.”

“Nah, you’ll have to be a good girl and wait,” he grins teasingly, lifting up to steal an airy peck. “Besides, I need to get one more sho-”

Ding.

“Thank fuck!” He groans, springing up at the sound of your timer. “This feels like sandpaper. What the fuck are you doing to my face?”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scold, pressing pause and tossing your phone onto your bed. He’d have to meet your favorite character some other time, clearly too distracted and antsy tonight to focus.

“Bambi,” he says indignantly, pointing straight ahead at Mina’s floor mirror with wide doe eyes. His skin is cracked and painted gray. The reflection is startling to the skincare newbie. “Look at how dry this shit is!”

“Jungkook, it’s supposed to look like that. It’s a clay mask.” You laugh, peeling your more gentle one off and tossing it into the little trash bin near your nightstand. “You have oily skin, so it’ll help clear out your pores and reduce excess sebum production.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” he laughs, climbing out of bed and rolling his shoulders, arms numb from laying down too long. He’s topless. You can’t help but eye the way his back muscles pop out with every circular motion.

How yummy.

“Do you mind if I hop in the shower?”

He doesn’t need to ask. Jungkook has become a permanent fixture in your dorm, like the color pink or your twin bed. Whenever Mina is gone, he’s there.

His presence is also similar to your bed in the sense that it doesn’t extend past the four walls of your room and mind.

A bed is warm, though. Comforting. And you long for it when you’re not in it.

That longing leads your wandering feet into the steamy bathroom.

“Jungkook,” you peep softly, knocking gently on the glass door before sliding it open. “Can I join you?”

The unexpected noise makes him jump, a large palm hitting his bare chest with a wet smack. Once his mind registers the sound as your voice though, his body language softens. Your voice so sweet and melodic in his ears. “I would never turn down an opportunity to see your tits. Wet.”

‘You could see them more often if you just fell in love with me already,’ you think to yourself, peeling off your cherry-printed thong and oversized shirt before stepping into the warm shower.

He looks so dreamy in the sauna of your shower.

Your pupils pause when they land on the unbelievably minuscule nipples that you always tease him for. His cheeks and chest are a soft baby pink. Your favorite color. Whether it’s from the scalding water or him nailing you into the rickety mattress earlier, you can’t tell. All the fog makes him look even more heavenly than usual, like an angel descending from the clouds.

You’re down bad.

There’s a speck of clay still on his chin, covering that little brown freckle you love so much. You cup the side of his face, thumb swiping away the leftover mask. He leans into your palms, lips chasing your finger to press a soft kiss on the pad of it.

Why must he make things so difficult for you?

“I got it,” he mumbles, snatching the pink face cloth from your hand and reaching for what his peanut brain thinks is body wash.

“Jungkook, that’s shampoo.”

“What? No way,” he shakes his head confidently, picking up the slippery green bottle and reading the label with squinted eyes.

You were right, of course.

“Oh, I fucked up then” He smells like lavender and mint. The scent fills your nostrils when he grabs the actual body wash from the bamboo wall shelf, suctioned to the tile near your head. It's the same fragrance of your very fancy, very expensive, shampoo.

You glance at the bottle. It’s nearly empty.

“Jungkook! You’re such an idiot!”

“It’s not that deep, Bambi. Relax,” he chuckles nonchalantly.

“It’s not funny!” Read the shower, Jeon. Haircare is no laughing matter. You cross your arms over your chest, titty-viewing privileges revoked until further notice. “That stuff is expensive, Jungkook. It’s Paul Mitchell...”

“Not Paul Mitchell,” he humors you, bottom lip jutting out dramatically. His shiny silver lip ring and eyebrow piercing do nothing to aid his faux innocence. “I’ll buy you another bottle, I promise. I used it because it reminds me of you. Smells so good.”

Jungkook squeezes the soap onto the pink cloth before running it over your body, lathering the vanilla-scented bubbles on your skin. Hands caressing every part of you so gently, as if you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever dealt with. Afraid to break you in his careless and clumsy palms.

He’s cleaning you so tenderly that it makes your lovesick heart pound.

He’s diligent too, squatting down awkwardly to wash your manicured toes, balancing your foot on top of his knee. He lets out an airy laugh when your foot jerks under his sneaky tickling fingers.

Even on your most intimate parts, his touch stays pure and delicate. He cups your breasts, cleaning under them and around them. The damp cotton barely ghosts over your nipples. He’s never been shy to pinch, suck, or even bite them before. It doesn’t feel right to him in this context though. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfy or ruin the moment by doing or saying something dirty.

Sometimes, Jungkook makes you feel so… important. So cared for.

You cling to him when he washes your back, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the solid surface of his chest. You stay like that for a moment. Holding eachother under the warm stream of the shower. Savoring it while he’s still with you like this.

Blissful peaks.

The gentle swirls and shapes he draws against your skin lulls you into a trance. All you can hear is his heart beating.

It’s so close but so out of reach.

You count the seconds between the faint thumps. So distracted and content that your ears block out the sharp sounds of water hitting tile. All you hear is him.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

A quick swat to your ass brings you back to reality.

You peep out a small moan, jolting forward from the impact.

“You like when I do that,” he deduces, the corner of his lip pulling into a crooked smirk as he massages your stinging behind. “When I have my way with you. Don’t you, Bambi?”

You nod, cheek still smushed into his wet chest. How humiliating.

“You’re a lot more submissive than I thought you’d be.”

“You thought about me before we started hooking up?” You counter, voice taking on a teasing tone to hide the flutter in your chest. He wanted you too. The thought was reassuring.

“Mm, maybe.” His hardening cock, brushing right against your inner thigh, tells you the answer. “The version of you in my head was confident, though. Knew what she wanted and took it.”

He whispers the last part, gaze floating down to your lips and licking his bottom one in preparation. The telltale signs of an incoming smooch. You close your eyes, expecting a sweet kiss-

“I get that you’re still learning how to fuck,” he shrugs. “So no biggie.”

Asshole. He's taunting you.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing…” he coos, patronizingly. “Just the Bambi I know would never let a man tell her what to do.”

Any implication of you being compliant and passive, especially to a male counterpart, would normally send you into a rampage. He never understood how someone so kind could also be so viscous. When angry, you were comparable to a fire-breathing dragon, destroying villages and burning people alive with your blazing articulate tongue. Jungkook would never tell you that though, lest you think he was calling you ugly and reptilian.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, because he found it so fucking sexy when you were mad. And the bubbles of irritation were already brewing in your stomach.

You’re falling right into his trap.

“I don’t,” you argue through gritted teeth. “And I always take what I want.”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook tutts his tongue at you. “You want me so bad and you haven’t done anything about it.”

Your heart drops. Is it that obvious you have a big fat crush on him?

“Why don’t you show me a little bit, then?” He huffs, voice pleading and whiny. He grabs your hand and guides it around his semi-hard member, engulfing your’s in his tattooed one. “Touch me how you want.”

Oh, he meant sexually. You let out a sigh of relief.

Even partially soft, his cock feels heavy in your hand. Your fingertips barely meet around the shaft, pink mushroom tip poking out of your tiny fist. Two months. Two months of seeing his cock every three to five business days, and you’re still intimidated by the sheer size of him. How could you not be? He was massive.

He knocks his wet forehead against yours. His gaze is trained on his growing cock, tongue fiddling with his lip ring as he focuses. So visual.

Hm. It could be fun to take control. Especially when he was practically begging for it.

Jungkook prefers to be the pleasing partner. Foreplay usually consists of him licking and touching every square inch of you until you’re squirming. You’ve never seen him so needy and desperate before.

Most dicks were ugly. Monstrous even. In the flesh, you’ve seen a whopping total of three penises throughout your lifetime, Jungkook’s included. A small sample size for your age. But you’ve watched enough porn to know that they were anything but aesthetically pleasing.

You’ve always been drawn to the finer, pretty things in life.

And his is so so pretty.

It’s not overly vascular. The veins running along his shaft are subtle, you can only feel them when you give him a hard tug. His skin is smooth and supple. Pelvis clean-shaven. Despite his little skincare mishaps, you can know he takes good care of himself. It’s a quality you found extremely attractive.

Languidly stroking up, you twist your wrist over the swollen tip. Your grip isn’t as tight as he likes and you know it, purposely dragging over the upward curve with an unbearably loose fist. The running water makes the glide easy as you pump him languidly, stopping at the crown and squeezing to give him a little relief.

He peeps out a dreamy sigh when a pearl of dew leaks out of the slit. You coo at the sight, using your thumb to smear the wetness around his sensitive head.

A dirty Jungkook-type thought pops into your head.

“Put it in your mouth,” you command, holding your glistening digit in front of his big nose.

He hesitates for a moment. It’s fair. You were literally asking him to taste his own precum. His black pupils dart to your thumb, over to your face, and then back to your thumb.

Has he never done this before?

He’s apprehensive, but fiercely competitive to the core. Never one to turn down a challenge. You’ve known that since you met him, when he nearly had a meltdown over losing a simple game of beer pong.

He takes the pad of your thumb into his pink pucker, sucking on it like a sugary lollipop. His lustful eyes lock onto yours when his tongue just barely grazes over your skin. They’re pleading, so desperate for your approval.

“Good boy… now spit.”

You feel his cock twitch against your stomach, wet tip leaving a sticky trail to your belly button. He obliges, letting a string of spit land in your palm. You hum contently, wrapping your hand around his shaft again. Coating him in his own saliva.

“I love that,” he moans out, voice so turned on that you have to clench your thighs together for friction. They’re already clammy with arousal.

“Love what?” You tease. “Praise or my hand?”

“Both,” he admits with no hesitation, hips recoiling and subtly thrusting into your palm. He slicks back his bothersome bangs to get a better view.

He looks so good with his forehead out.

“Does that feel good?”

He nods halfheartedly, tunnel-visioned in on the way you’re just fucking milking him. The nasty wet clicking noises filling the air only make his impending orgasm build up quicker. Jungkook has always prided himself on his stamina, but he’s already feeling that overwhelming pooling in his balls.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Yeah, Bambi...” He sighs, mouth dropping when he’s done speaking. Thick brows knitting together. Face contorting in the way it always does when he’s about to bust.

You tug him hard and fast until he’s teetering on the point of no return-

And then you stop.

The muscles at the base of his cock contract and expand, making it bounce up against his pelvis. The creamy skin at the base transitions into a vibrant flush at the tip. So swollen and angry. So ready to cum.

“Fuck!” He shouts, slamming the side of his fist against the tile wall, snarled teeth look too ferocious to be bunny-like. The hooded gaze he shoots you is scary, even angrier than his cock.

It looks painful.

You feel bad, truly.

But it was a small glimpse of the pain you felt when he blue-balled your love and affection.

“I cum first,” you taunt with a smirk, pressing a gentle peck on his lips. He doesn’t reciprocate, pout cemented in a firm straight line. “Then you.”

His tattooed knuckles sneak under your wet hair, curling around the back of your neck. The other is grips on your shoulder, trimmed nails digging into the delicate skin as he shoves you forward. You gasp, bouncing breasts squished against the shower door, cool slippery glass brushing against sensitive nipples.

Jungkook usually takes the lead during sex, gently coaching you through the motions until you’re both silly-smiled and starry-eyed in post orgasm bliss. You’ve never seen him so domineering. A sharp juxtaposition to the whiny boy who was desperately seeking words of affirmation a few minutes ago.

His duality has you embarrassingly wet.

“I’m sorry,” he grunts, nuzzling into your shoulder and placing a few gentle, apologetic pecks on your skin. “I don’t mean to be so abrasive.”

Abrasive.

That was a big word, for him atleast. His vocabulary has expanded a bit. The thought makes you gleam.

“You’re just-” The words are broken off by an airy chuckle. “I’m so fucked.”

There’s no time for you to mull over the hidden meanings of his words. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, muscular thigh pressing right into your sopping sex. You moan at the contact, grinding down on it until it’s rudely snatched away.

“Isn’t someone greedy?” His voice is muffled, lips preoccupied with kissing a messy trail down your spine before dropping to his knees behind you. Right on the shower floor. “You’ve already cum. Twice.”

You had sex just a few hours. And he did indeed, make you cum twice. Once on his fingers and once around his cock.

It wasn't enough, though. Never enough with him.

“Want more...”

“I know you do, just…” His words dissipate when spreads one cheek to the side, distracted by the mesmorising sight of your glistening slit and puckering hole. “Stay still. Let me look at you.”

The lack of sensory information has you on edge. From your position, you can’t see him. Only catching blurry glimpses of a tattooed arm when it extends into your field of vision. It’s hard to hear the nasty declarations that pour out of his mouth over the pitter-patter of water. There’s no perceptible clues that help you predict his next movements. You have to wait until you feel them.

His big hands knead your skin, making the fatty parts jiggle with his thumbs resting under each cheek. “Wow…” he peeps in admiration before shoving his entire face in your ass, vigorously shaking his head side to side.

He’s so lewd.

You squeak when his sneaky tongue pokes out.

“No…”

“Why?”

“That’s so… dirty.” You don’t mean you, of course. Even in the drunkest of states, you could execute a ten step skincare routine flawlessly, facial rollers and all. You were referring to the act.

“I mean… we’re kinda past that, don’t you think?”

You hum a contemplative noise. He had a point.

“Don’t you like it, baby?” A soft kiss is placed against the cinched muscle. “When I play with you like this?”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since he walked you home from the party. Your stomach somersaults.

“I love it,” you confess with a sigh.

“Then why is it dirty? I’m just making you feel good, aren’t I?” He coos, placing the pad of his thumb on the untouched area. There’s no pressure behind it, just light strokes around the rim. “I can make you feel so good, if you just let me do what I want.”

What he’s implying is nerve-wracking. Anal play was something you never even considered dabbling in.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You trust him and you’re consumed by lust, so you give a small nod.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Do whatever you want, Koo… anything.”

There’s a sharp exhale and then soft fingers massaging tight circles on your clit. You relax into the touch. A tried and true method of making you feel good, and hopefully, ease you into the uncharted waters with little tension. Jungkook lets a string of spit fall between your cheeks, knowing you’ll need the extra lubrication.

“Fu- hmm,” you hum through curled lips when his thick thumb slowly prods in, only up to the first knuckle. It’s not as painful as you expected. A little strange and unfamiliar, but the stretch was oddly pleasurable. “S’ good.”

“No one has ever been in here before, right? Only me?”

“Only you.” You mewl, grinding back into his hand. The confession makes him moan. The thought of defiling you, ruining you, does things to him and to his leaking cock.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll get you a butt plug.” He pauses, before adding an afterthought. “A small one with a pink gem.”

You don’t respond, enjoying the feeling of his hand too much to speak.

“Yeah,” he hums to himself. “Gonna double dip you one of these days.”

“Koo,” you whine. “Please do something.”

He can’t deny you. Not when there’s those dreamy, desperate hues in your voice. Jungkook spins, sitting on the ground before shuffling backwards until his back is against the shower door. Positioned directly between your legs. Right under your leaking cunt.

“Ride my face,” he whimpers. “Please…”

In your limited experience, and via the data you’ve collected from third-party sources (Mina), guys only ever beg to receive oral sex.

But Jungkook is different. Here he was, fully prepared to devour your pussy like it’s his last meal on death row.

Hopefully the crime committed isn’t breaking your heart.

“Jungkook, you don’t- fuck!” His mouth is on you before you can even finish the sentence. Toned arm wrapped around your thigh, pulling you down onto his thirsty tongue like you’re a refreshing drink on a hot summer day.

The cool metal of his lip ring brushing against your outer lips as he delivered long unhurried licks between them, had your thighs trembling. You were so worked up and he’s barely even touched you.

The position is great, amazing even, but it’s hard to hold him like you want. You twist awkwardly reaching behind you and letting your fingers trace the outline of his sharp jaw. You can literally feel his tongue working under the skin, collecting as much of your sweet dew as possible before swallowing it in big gulps.

The combination of your juices and the running water makes Jungkook-

“Feel like I'm drowning,” he laughs, sending hot breaths into your core.

You peep an apology before standing on your toes, trying to create some breathing room.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” His free hand grabs your ass, fingertips digging into the plush surface as he pulls you back down. The motion makes his large nose brush against your clit, bulbous tip sneaking under the hood, tickling your most sensitive spot.

“Fuck, baby.” you whine, already feeling a sticky hot climax approaching.

“Don’t be shy.” The thick thumb, still hooked inside of you, begins rocking back and forth, moving your hips in tandem. Encouraging you to grind onto his face. “Use me.”

Despite the assertive facade, you were deeply insecure. You’ve never felt more liberated, more comfortable, than when Jungkook’s hands were on you, though. Caressing every undesirable part of you. Touching you in ways that made you swoon. Completely worshiping you.

With that in mind, you build up the courage to move freely. Humping his face like you do your pillow when you’re alone and needy for him.

You find yourself saying this often with Jungkook, but you’ve never felt so good.

There’s little muffled moans under the sound of the shower. Between the wet strands of hair, you can see his thick brows pulled in at the middle. Features contorted to form that cute little yummy face he makes every time he eats good food. Or in this case, your pussy.

You giggle deliriously, gently pushing back his wet tresses. They’re silky and pliant from your conditioner. Your thumb smoothes over one of his brows in an attempt to tame the angry arch. Afraid to hurt him, you stop immediately when you feel his piercing.

The look he gives you when he peers up at you sends you spiraling. There’s something so raw behind his eyes.

It almost looks like…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shout when your orgasm washes over you, hips jerking wildly and uncontrollably. Powerful waves of pleasure run through you. One after the other in rapid succession, leaving your legs shaking and your petite fingers clawing at his scalp.

He doesn’t stop until you make him, with a fistful of hair and a rough yank. Wet lips smacking together as he coos, taking in the sight of the overstimulated body before him. You feel empty when he removes his thumb from your sore hole and climbs to his feet.

“Your mouth,” you whine. “It’s too much.”

“I know,” he hums in agreement, hugging you from behind before continuing with an airy chuckle. “Nayeon told me that I have an oral fixation.”

Nayeon.

Your heart drops at the mention of her name.

Why was he thinking about Nayeon? Especially now, when he was being intimate with you-

‘Don’t overthink it,’ you tell yourself. It was probably just a flippant comment he made without thinking…

“Oh no,” Jungkook groans dramatically, tattooed hand scrubbing over his face in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him.

“I only brought one condom,” he says in distraught, emphasizing the one like it was the biggest mistake of his life. “And we already used it.”

Hm. Now seems like a good time to ask him the question you’ve been avoiding for weeks.

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

An eerie pause fills the air. You don’t like the way he hesitates.

“No… I always use protection anyways… and I just got tested last week.”

You don’t like the way he answers. Almost like he didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t necessarily want to admit the truth either.

You don’t push the matter further. You're afraid that if you do, he’ll drift away. Float onto the next shiny, less complicated, thing that catches his wandering eyes.

“It’s okay. Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

“Are you sure?” He looks at you with wide, sparkly eyes. They appear almost animated, hand drawn in the same style as your favorite cartoon. “We don’t have to. I would never-”

“I want to.”

You just want him.

“Are you on the pill?”

“Mhm.”

He exhales a sigh of relief, head dropping to thank whatever higher power exists for making this happen. The stars aligned to make this happen. He gets to fuck you now. Raw.

When his hands land on your ass, they’re shaky and unorganized. You can’t tell if it’s from adrenal of excitement. His cock is at the perfect angle to slot between your cheeks without the help of his hands. Jungkook pushes them together, rutting his hips into the tight squeeze, moaning softly when his pink tip pokes out at the top.

“No more teasing,” you huff with a pout.

“Put me in then, sweetheart.”

Another term of endearment. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. If he knows how you feel about him and is levying that affection against you. Using sweet words to lull you into any situation of his choosing.

You sigh, reaching between your legs. His couch is so touch-starved from the foreplay, the orgasm you denied him, that the contact makes it jump. You rub the engorged head over your clit, flicking it up and down over the swollen nub.

“Thought you said no teasing.” He gruffs, strained and fucked out.

You nod in response, licking your lips as you guide him to your entrance. His heart beating so sternly in his chest that you can feel his pulse in the crown of his cock. So turned out and it’s all because of you.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape when he slides in slowly. You’re both so wet from the shower and your own arousals, that there’s barely any resistance. Just a smooth glide until he’s buried to the hilt. Hushed, needy gasps escaping from both of you.

“Ah- fuck,” he grunts, hips jolting forward even though there’s no more length to give, pelvis mushing into you. You have to brace yourself with flat palms to prevent your head from knocking into the glass. “I’m in love with this pussy…”

The sweet, filthy words make you clench around him.

Jungkook watches with parted lips as he pulls out. Top lip twitching in a snarl when he sees how creamy and shiny you made his cock. You always do, but this is the first time he’s actually witnessing it, feeling it, without any barrier.

“My favorite pussy…” he whispers, gripping your waist as leverage before he starts pounding into you. Closing his eyes to focus on his rhythm, savoring the way your warm, wet, natural ridges feel on his cock

Even from behind, his curve does wonders on your g-spot. The smooth underside deliciously strokes that sweet spot with every deep plunge. Your breasts bounce when his hips crash into yours, making the very tips of your nipples teasingly brushing against the wet glass. The coolness sends tingles through your burning skin.

“When can I really play with you?” He pants. “Use my vibrator until you’re cumming buckets, huh?”

“Whenever we stay at yours…”

He doesn’t respond, leveling you with a simple hum instead.

“Nah, I prefer going to the girl’s place-” Jungkook had slurred to Taehyung, projecting his voice over the static of the party. Loud enough for your unsuspecting ears to pick up the sound. “I feel bad for asking them to leave after, so it just makes things easier.”

That was before you started hooking up, but the memory still stings.

A lightbulb turns on Jungkook’s brain as he watches the running water hit your back. He reaches for the shower head, clicking the silver lever three notches to the left. Jet mode.

The ugliest sob rips though your chest when he places it directly on your clit.

“Jungkook!” The stream is so powerful that it sends you into a panic. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” his lips are smushed to your temple, trying to shush your cries. “Gotta practice for the Hitachi, don’t you baby?”

The constant stimulation from the water and his cock makes your orgasm build up much quicker than anticipated. There’s wetness on your cheeks. It's not from the splashing water pummeling directly into your clit. You feel so euphoric and overstimulated that you’re crying. There’s nothing you can do to stop the unbearable pleasure that’s coursing through your veins.

You nearly blackout when you cum. Vision blurry. Hearing fading in and out. Legs giving out underneath you. Jungkook has to catch you, abruptly dropping the shower head to wrap his big arms around your waist before you plummet to the ground in bliss.

When you can support yourself again, he hangs up the forgotten metal, maneuvering you around until you’re facing him. He picks you up with an inked arm hooked under your thighs, free hand grazing over your back in soothing circles.

“I didn’t push you too far, did I?” He asks worriedly.

You shake your head. He did, but you absolutely loved it. You peep when you feel the tip of his cook, still achingly hard, against your backside. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry.”

“No,” you protest. “Want you to cum too.”

He looks at you, gnawing on his bottom lip like he’s contemplating something. “I’ll be quick.”

Jungkook lays you down on the shower floor gently, the same way he does on your twin bed. A grimace laces through your features. Over the last month, you’ve been swamped with homework, putting a wedge in your normal routine. The last time you cleaned out the shower was two whole weeks ago.

Disgusting.

All complaints are forgotten when he’s inside of you, though. You would brace the bacteria and germs to have Jungkook between your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” he huffs, admiring the way your hair fans out across the white porcelain. Leaning forward, Jungkook presses his entire weight on top of you, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. There’s a gust of wind on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent.

The whole atmosphere feels different.

The slow sensual grind of his hips makes you dizzy. You swear you’re hallucinating when you feel his hands graze up your arms, fingers interlocking with yours.

“Look at me.”

You crane your neck, wide eyes meeting his hooded ones. You breath hitches in your throat when you take in his expression. He’s looking at you the same way he did earlier.

If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you.

“I’m close,” he whispers, nudging his forehead against yours. He kisses you so delicately. There’s no heady teeth or rushed tongues. Just a sweet, soft kiss. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside.”

When he cums, it’s gentle and low. His hips never falter from their slow pace like they usually do when he climaxes. He doesn’t moan lewdly or say anything dirty. He just stays clung to you, panting softly until he rides out his high.

You feel so warm and happy when he fills you up.

He stays on top of you while he catches his breath. You don’t mind, petite hands scratching over his back. Listening to the calming, rain-like sounds of the shower.

“Do you want to go to bed?” You peep after a few minutes.

“I can’t sleepover tonight, Bambi,” he coos, sitting back on his knees. You feel empty when he pulls out. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Oh… well, you’re still coming over tomorrow, right? So can we finish the season?” You question, recalling the pinky promise he made you last week.

“Raincheck,” he pouts. “I have something to do for one of my classes.”

You follow him to the door once you’re both dried off and dressed.

“Goodnight,” he places a dramatic kiss on the top of your head, pulling away with a little ‘muah’ sound. Something in the corner of your room catches his eye before he leaves. “Did you steal my hat?”

Your eyes follow his finger, pointing straight to the black bucket hat on your desk.

“You gave it to me.”

“I did?” He looks at you in confusion. “I don’t remember that.”

“Fuck off,” you groan, cocooning your blanket over your disturbed ears. You wanted nothing more than to rewatch Sailor Moon and mope, but the fireworks would not fucking stop. Where is campus police? And why are they letting dumb frat boys light off explosives?

You sigh, watching Usagi and Rei fight over Tuxedo Mask again. You know what the outcome will be. The thought of your favorite character falling victim to the unforgiving strain of unrequited love makes your heart hurt.

You tilt your head. Tuxedo Mask kinda looks like someone you know.

The show was supposed to be distracting, make you forget the fact that you got stood up but a guy you’ve been crushing on for months. But even your alone time has become daunting. Consumed by him. Everything reminds you of Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

You sigh, closing out the app in favor of scrolling through Instagram. The first picture you see on your feed is of Nayeon. Just your luck.

It was posted two minutes ago. You recognize the ugly brown couch in the background. She’s clearly at a party, form-fitting black mini dress complimenting her figure perfectly.

Your self-loathing mind guides your self-loathing fingers to zoom in on every little detail and compare yourself to her. Pretty hair. Perfect makeup. Tiny waist that curves out into her full hips. Long legs. Jungkook. Straight, pearly white teeth. Nice jawline-

Jungkook?

You do a double take, eyes scanning the photo until they land on him again. He’s lingering in the background, back against the wall, looking down at his phone. You stay zoomed in on him for a while, staring at your phone screen until your vision goes blurry.

Every doubt and insecurity you’ve harbored over the last few months hits you in a drowning, suffocating wave.

Exhausting valleys.

Why did you even agree to this? This stupid friends with benefits relationship.

You knew you would get hurt, but you didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Not only did he lie to you, he was with Nayeon.

Nayeon. You can’t fucking stand her-

You shake your head furiously and throw your phone to the foot of your bed.

You don’t mean that…

Since when were you the type to hate another woman over a dumb guy? Or have unprotected sex? Or let someone so careless and selfish infiltrate your heart and mind?

How could you compare yourself to Nayeon when you two are in the exact same position?

You think about the night you fell for him, when he walked you home in the moonlight. She must have felt the same you do now. You’re similar in your desire to be with him, knowing you'll get hurt in the end.

Because being with Jungkook for a little while was better than not being with him at all.

It’s his eyes. They’re dark but so tender. The way they look at you like you’re the only thing that matters. The way they glow when he talks about things that interest him. Or how they dart up towards his forehead when he can’t find the right words to say-

“__?” Mina calls, standing in the doorway with a takeout bag. You hadn’t even noticed her come in. “Why are you crying?”

“Huh?” You peep, eyes fluttering down to the little wet spots on your blanket.

Without even realizing it, you had grown to love Jungkook so much.

You spent the rest of the night sobbing in Mina’s arms.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #bts #bts smut #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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scented-morker · 10 months

Text

Enha when 8th member s/o has a stage accident

8th member au, gn reader (mentions a dress in hee’s part), mentions of electrocution in jw + rk’s, requested!!, 1345 words not proofread

Heeseung

He was internally screaming as soon as he saw you getting ready

You guys always like to give each other fashion shows of your outfits before performing

Like "babe look!" And then strut strut strut pose "slay me!!" 😆😆

But he knew immediately that you did not feel very slayful in your outfit

You were literally yanking it down after every step you took because it was already short and just kept riding up

You give him a "What do you think? 😕"

And he's like "I think you would look really good in a pair of pants 😁"

But the stylists don't have anything else so you have to go out in it

He keeps giving you nervous looks from across the stage

Anytime he crosses in front of you or anything he tries to cover you up or block the camera so you can readjust

Literally texts THE FREAKING CEO like "I'm concerned about the outfits given to yn, she can't perform her best while being so clearly uncomfortable"

"I'm concerned about the entire world realizing you're in love with her, but I guess I can talk to the styling staff 🤷🏻‍♀️"

OKAY BANG PD CALL HIM OUT ON THE SIMPERY LIKE THAT

But you never get an uncomfortably short outfit again... Heelift indeed 😌

Jay

Someone did not think this through 😭

You're doing your killing part in one of the songs on music bank

So obviously the camera guy gets closer to zoom in on you (werk👏👏)

BUT THEN he immediately moves to camera above your head to find Sunghoon and just WALKS INTO YOUR FACE

Ik y'all have seen that wonyo fancam... that's what I'm talking about

You literally make the most horrified face bc THIS MANS CROCH IS IN YOUR FACE

Screw professionalism, you're traumatized 😀

But man jays face is WORSE 😭😭

He's SO MAD like angry eyebrows and everything bc YOU JUST GOT VIOLATED ON LIVE TELEVISION

Walks up to you in the middle of the performance and checks on you

"Are you okay? 🥺"

You're like "yeah, talk after" and go back to performing

At the end when you drop down to a similar pose he goes in front of you 😭😭

It's fine because it wasn't your ending fairy but everyone is on Twitter like "he protects them so well 😭"

He rly does 🫶🫶 and starts a petition to at least get female camera operators next time

Jake

You guys were performing at a festival in the rain (wow so safe)

And everyone has talked before hand about being extra careful so you didn't slip

But it was such a big crowd!!! And it was your favorite song!!!

So you maybe went a little bit harder than you should have 🫣

... and fell on your face mid performance

I'm sorry but he laughs 😭😭

Like he sees you down out of the corner of his eye

Just 💃🕳 and then nothing

You give him such a dirty look when he laughs bc "YOURE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME STOP LAUGHING!!"

So ofc he runs over after and helps you up + gives you a big hug ❤️❤️

"I'm sorry, you just looked so funny!!"

So you smack him again of course because "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I LOOK FUNNY" 😠

But he kisses your boo boo scraped knees (which of course everyone LOSES IT watching) and looks up at you with a smirk 😫😫

I CANT 😵‍💫

Sunghoon

You pretty much always had to wear heels to perform because you were so much shorter than the boys

But today man you had some BIG STOMPERS ON

Like platforms and big heels, the whole thing

And at first Hoon just laughs at you 😭😭

"You really need all that extra height?" Then he stands next to you and realizes you're still not as tall as him "and it doesn't even work!!" 😆😆

He's having the time of his life until you smack him (except he makes you kiss him after so still a win for him honestly)

But then once you guys are performing he notices that you're not moving your legs as freely as usual 🤔 (we love an observant partner <33)

He gives you a 🤷🏻‍♀️ from across the stage and you mouth back "heavy... and too big"

It's a concert and not a like show performance so he just walks over and TAKES YOUR SHOES OFF 😭😭

Like, bends down, unlaces them, takes them off and sets them by the side of the stage

You're like wow he's so sweet omg 😆 but then he goes "now you're short again" with the biggest smile and then runs away

So much for that... enjoy your sock performance 😻

Sunoo

Honestly it was really bad for you but kinda good for him 😭

You guys were performing at a fan meeting and they were gonna shoot like fireworks out at the end !!

And everyone knew it, but you were in the bathroom when they told everyone the specifics 🫣

So you were out just like casually performing, not really doing all of the choreo

More so just singing and running back and forth on the stage to say hi to everyone 🫶

But then the fireworks shootout 😭 and you were literally RIGHT NEXT TO THEM

And you’re so freaked out and they were so close and loud and you fall on your butt 😁

And the boys don’t realize it at first because they’re interacting with fans

But when you fall the whole crowd gasps 😭😭 and they’re like ????

And then Sunoo sees you on the floor half crawling away from the fireworks THAT ARE STILL SHOOTING OUT

He feels bad but he also thinks it’s really cute (😒)

But of course he helps you up 😁

And then he drags you around with him for the rest of the time

Like no you aren’t allowed to go anywhere by yourself anymore, he is holding your hand and you are going TOGETHER

Jungwon

Listen he is MAD

Like Leader Won was on high alert all day because it's been storming on and off

He was worried someone was gonna slip

But it was 10x worse 😭

You had turned your head to do a part of the choreo and some of the rain water got into your in ear

LITERALLY ELECTROCUTED YOU

It's giving Benjamin Franklin sunbaenim 😻😻

You were center for that part so all of the boys just saw you jump from the shock and then fall into a crouch covering your ears

He is IMMEDIATELY on it, running up to you and taking them out of your ears and escorting you off stage

He lowkey yells at the staff (🫣) bc "the performance should have been cancelled and now Yn's hurt!"

He doesn't want to leave you, but he has to go finish the rest of the performance

But once you're back home, he's not leaving your side

Chilling in a dark room with soft music playing so your ears don't hurt 🫶🫶

He's trending for like a week because of how scary he was 😭

Riki

Riki is the opposite of Jungwon 😭

Like he was having the time of his life performing and then he sees you drop and goes through all five stages of grief at the same time

Runs over "are you okay?!"

Except he yelled and you just got YOUR EARS ELECTROCUTED so you clutch your ears tighter bc it hurt

Once he sees you crying ITS OVER

Literally picks you up and takes you backstage, yelling to any staff in a thirty foot radius that he needs help ☹️

They lay you down in a stretcher and take you out to make sure you don't have like permanent ear drum damage or anything and he's just standing there like 😨

He has no idea what to do with himself

"Can I go with them? Please please please?"

So they let him of course bc he's cute and he WILL NOT let go of your hand for the entire time you're being treated until you're back in the dorms laid on his bed 🥹

He’s so clingy for like a week after because he was just so scared and he never wants to be away from you ☹️

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen hcs #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jake scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunoo x reader #enhypen jungwon x reader #enhypen riki scenarios #enhypen heeseung scenarios #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen sunghoon scenarios #enhypen sunoo scenarios #enhypen jungwon scenarios #enhypen riki x reader

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blueburntskies · 9 months

Text

[lollipop + wakasa]

pairing — platonic! wakasa imaushi × reader (+ hints of you × shin)

desc — wakasa plays matchmaker. that's it. the thought rents free in my head.

ari's note — a blurb from a series i'm procrastinating working on!

tw — wakasa being wakasa (trolling lol)

Wakasa Imaushi is rarely seen without a lollipop wrapped in his mouth. If others use mouth to strike conversation; Wakasa is a quiet guy and uses his to suck lollipop, but once he pops it out -- oh boy, you wouldn’t be witnessing quietude but stochasticity with him.

Like… right now.

“You and Shin are so stupid,” he states, looking at his saliva-coated lollipop whilst spinning its stick. Dark-coloured, could be cola-flavoured. He licks his lower lip, cleaning the sticky luscious stain.

“What do you mean?” I ask, looking at him.

His eyes are still averted on the lolly then clouts a lengthy strip. “Wait,” Waka puts the lolly in his mouth and sucks it 11 times and pops it out. “Done,” he drops the lolly from the balcony we are standing at.

Abruptly, from the ground below us a guy yells, “EW, WHO THE HELL THREW THIS LOLLIPOP FROM ABOVE??” the crowd’s attention drawn to the guy and suddenly all of them craned their heads towards the balcony where we are standing at.

I hide myself behind the door but then I hear Waka hums and shouts, “Hey, sorry for that, man,” he bows for a while and raises up, “ take a lick; it’s sarsaparilla -- classic.”. Cryptically sincere. Waka isn't completely cynical, but he can be too honest at times.

No boo-ings, no mayhem. Only silence. Whispers of ‘it is the Wakasa Imaushi’-s are soon to be heard. He waves at them and departs the balcony, grabbing my arm, “Let’s go to the rooftop,” I incline and follow him from behind, some steps away missed from his.

“I won’t flee from you, just so y’know.”

“I certainly didn’t say anything about you running away??”

I tap his arm and he shoots me a what else? look, my gaze turns to my grabbed arm. He nods, understanding. He let go of it.

“Why haven’t either you or Shin taken the first move?” Waka asks flatly. He is standing by the fence, facing the starless tide. His earrings jingle when the cold air surfs through the night. “Please don’t tell me you two are ‘just friends’ or ‘friends with benefits’ thingy,” cocking his head to perceive my face, “Aren’t you?”

He swerves his body, walking in my direction before stopping. Waka’s otiose pupils pivot , studying my face as they slothly aiming direct into my soul. My eyes wildly escape anywhere but his eyes. “Focus,” he whispers, not that undertone, his fingers dance on my jaw slowly. Gasping for air and freezing at the spot, I compel myself to look at his long eyelashes -- eyes wildly looking everywhere as long it isn’t his lazy, sleepy eyes. Waka stands ‘tall’ at 160cm (petite, even), but that pondering look has me shrunken beneath him. “And listen, --”

“-- Benkei and I will set you and Shin up ourselves, okay?”

His fingers are ghosting my jaw, raking down through my hair and thumb is trailing the shape of my right ear. Too much, too much. This is all too much. He touches everyone smoothly as if they were frail, speaks as though he is praying in the dark. He is effortlessly a charmer.

Neither the touch nor the tone has a gripping effect on me, he’s done that to me since the first day our friendship started that I’ve suited myself to this act he put on.

Shin

First move

Shin

First move

Waka is too honest at times, and I never wanted him to ever bulge out the lollipop from his paper-thin lips.

“Waka, do you have any extra lollipop?” a question pops out to change the atmosphere around us, and it seems to work when his fingers no longer trailing my skin and i grab the chance to step backwards.

“Sarsaparilla, caramel, and milk. I want caramel.”

“Let me open the wrapper for you," i offer to him with a dumb smile hanging on my lips, teeth gritting and grazing against their surface. I bent down to reach his height with an extended hand.

His eyes widen in surprise but he still hands me the lollipop. It takes me a lil' while but eventually I succeed to unwrap the wrapper, and relieved, i am letting out a huff of satisfication.

"Ah~ open wide," he opens his mouth (lazily) and I put the lolly on his tongue, "and shut up."

Wakasa raises his brows and sucks the lolly, unbothered. Then he hums muffled sound.

I smile, amused.

"I prefer you with your lollipop inside."

likes, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! <3

#🌣 ari: writes #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months

Text

The Man Who Sold the World (Sweet Jane Part Three) — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Episode One: Hey Jude

Sweet Jane Episode Two: Fly Like an Eagle

“She’s a mystery, but allow me to uncomplicate her for you. She isn’t impressed by material things. She’s a romantic; all she wants is love, conversation, and wine.”

Warning: Trauma from a toxic ex, Fear of a toxic ex, Stalking,

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Campbell, Fergus, and Y/N were on a stage, playing music while Rosalie walked through the crowd with her gloves on, handing around a petition, as Dancing in the Street played.

“This is street radio, keeping you, you dancing in the street! And if you like what you've heard so far, then come and sign the petition which says: ‘We, the undersigned, would like Campbell Bain and Ready Eddie McKenna to be given their own show on local radio’, and make us the first DJs in radio history to go professional by popular demand!”

The crowd applauded and Campbell played Do Ya Think I'm Sexy. “Here's an anonymous dedication to Debbie, who works in the travel center just across from us, from,” He started talking in the husky “dead smoochy” voice again, "a secret admirer who could show you what love is, yeah!" Then there was a slight pause before Campbell pointed, “Well, all right, Debbie, it's that wee baldy guy in the blue anorak.”

The audience laughed at his humor as he took Y/N’s hands and eased her into a dance, making his hair flop about before a police officer came up, turning off the boombox, making the audience boo.

“Right, party's over. You're busking without a permit and ye's have got one minute to clear off.”

Campbell, even though he had a microphone and was face-to-face with the officer, he still shouted into the microphone, “A PERMIT?! ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT,” He had gestured to the cop and then himself before turning to the audience, “WE NEED A PERMIT TO DANCE?!”

“NO!” The crowd shouted.

“DO WE NEED A PERMIT TO BOOGIE?!” Campbell shouted as the cop walked off, annoyed and Y/N and Fergus exchanged looks.

“NO!”

“WE ARE HERE TO BOOGIE AND WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED!” Campbell enthusiastically pumped his fist over his head, triumphantly.

The crowd cheered and applauded as Y/N thought she spotted someone taking pictures… but they seemed to be focused only on her, if she moved away from Campbell and Fergus, the camera followed only her. It wasn’t the kind that the press used being something like a Nikon model camera but more of a Canon model. She got distracted when Fergus hissed at Campbell, “What are you doing?” Fergus asked.

“I told you it would work! We've got a genuine incident going here!” Campbell said, excitedly, making Y/N look at him and then said in an excited singsong voice, “We are gonna be in the papers!”

Y/N joined them, poking her head around Fergus, “We're gonna be in jail, Campbell.”

There were police sirens wailing as more police officer came running up.

“...Yeah, we'll just merge quietly into the crowd and then leg it.” Campbell said and they grabbed their stuff and ran off, pushing through the crowd and Rosalie followed them, and it quickly became obvious where they were to the police.

Y/N ran past the guy still taking pictures and she got a sense of familiarity, so she stopped and looked at him but he ran off to a distance before taking more pictures of her before Campbell came back, grabbing her hand and pulling her.

“COME ON!”

Fergus, Campbell, and Y/N climbed over a sort barricade of junk. Y/N walked backwards to see the guy still taking pictures before she accidently stepped off the side of the junk and hit the ground with a yelp. Campbell went to her as Fergus held out a hand for Rosalie but she declined, despite wearing gloves and climbed over herself as Campbell helped Y/N up, a great constrast from when they first met just months ago.

“You alright?”

“Peachy pie.” She said, somewhat sarcastically.

He grinned and then he kissed her cheek and took her hand and ran off.

Eddie was in the station, filling in for Y/N who was supposed to be filling in for Campbell if he weren’t there. But neither were there.

“That was Runaway and this is Ready Eddie, standing in for Y/N L/N who should be standing in for Campbell Bain, who have both... run away! So... if you're out there and Campbell Bain is sitting next to you, smoking a fag and having a wee blether with your invisible voices or if you see Y/N L/N keying Campbell Bain’s dad’s car or furthering guilting him, tell them to—!” He played Baby Come Back as the four patients entered the station.

“Is it seven already?” Campbell asked.

“It's quarter past. Where the hell have you been?” Eddie demanded.

“Y/N, Rosalie and I got an afternoon pass. We staged a publicity stunt! A road show right in the middle of Argyle Street! And the police even came to break it up! Are you gonna tell me that's not frontpage news?!” He said, excitedly.

“What papers did you invite?” Eddie said, irritated.

It was immediately clear that Campbell was not aware of this fact, “‘Invite’? You mean you have to invite them?” He looked around at the group as Y/N closed the blinds over the window, anxiously, “Does that not... slightly... cheapen it?”

“Campbell, this station is falling apart. If something doesnae happen soon, we'll no have a station to publicize. In the past fifteen minutes, yet another channel on the mixer has blown; if I don't get any good news from Evelyn tomorrow about a new mixer, we may have to stop broadcasting altogether!” He started to shout in Campbell’s face, “You want to go professional? RULE ONE: TURN UP FOR YOUR SHOW!”

Campbell hung his head, ashamed and muttered, “...Sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie, then turned to Fergus and shouted, “How'd you no realize that channel was gonnae blow? How was it no checked?”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” Fergus shrugged.

Eddie then turned to Rosalie, “And what about you? You're the station manager; 's your job to make sure the show goes out!”

“...Sorry, Eddie.” She said, softly and splashed some Dettol into her hands and rubbed them together.

Then he turned to Y/N, “Aren’t you supposed to keep them in line, Y/N!?” Eddie shouted at Y/N who didn’t look sorry but more angry and tiresome, used to being screamed at. But she wasn't going to take it anymore.

“And where were you during Campbell’s first show. You were twenty minutes late, McKenna. Point is everyone makes mistakes and by the way WHY THE HELL AM I IN CHARGE OF KEEPING THEM IN LINE, I’M ONLY EIGHTEEN! I’M THE YOUNGEST ONE HERE!” She then spoke loudly but not in a yell again, if she yelled her voice became all hoarse from lack of use. “so how about you stop yelling at us because we’ve got work to do, so let’s just try and see a little bit of discipline and professionalism around here, huh? That alright with you, salesman of double windows.” She sassed much like a sassy temp would.

“Anyway. Record's almost finished. I've got to go to work.” Eddie said, putting his coat on.

“No problem.” Campbell said and he sat in the DJ chair while Y/N sat in the co-DJ chair, “Right.”

“Quiet! We're going on air now!” Rosalie said, loudly, making Eddie put a finger to his ear.

Y/N played the Hospital Radio Saint Jude's jingle as Eddie left and Campbell spoke into the microphone, “And that was Baby Come Back, coming at you from 1968.”

Apparently Rosalie felt the near empty hallway wasn’t quiet enough because she opened the door and shouted down the corridor, “I said, QUIET!” Her voice echoed on the radio, making Y/N flinch.

“Rosalie!” Campbell hissed.

Rosalie then spotted her husband, glaring at her, “Oh. It's you.”

It was quiet for a moment before Y/n leaned over Campbell, bringing the microphone to her mouth. “Um… this next song will be to all those unaccepting fathers who won’t accept that their son is amazing just the way they are but refuse to accept them and criticize him to the point that he had a legitimate manic episode.” Not true but he didn't know that. Nor did he deserve to know that.

“Y/N.” Campbell blushed.

“And also, for all those who got away. Oh Father.” She started playing Madonna’s Oh Father.

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Campbell pushed the fader slider and he pulled out a plastic bag, “I, uh, kind of guilt tripped my mother into stealing some money from my dad.” He smiled nervously, “And I bought you these.” He pulled a pair of light purple on light blue headphones.

“Campbell…” She smiled, touched. “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did break yours. Here,” He opened the box and unraveled the wire, spazzily and then he put them over her neck, leaning forwards her as he moved her hair and tucked them behind her ears. His eyes glanced down at her lips and he slowly leaned closer and then suddenly panic erupted inside her chest as traumatic memories flashed behind her eyes and she kicked the swivel chair back and ran out of the station, leaving Campbell very confused and now feeling dejected, his posture sank and he pouted, now resembling a kicked puppy dog (possibly kicked by his father or Stuart)

Evelyn was still perpetually closed minded about not only the patients working at the station but group therapy. Where was Doctor Winter!?

Campbell was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair as he eyed Y/N warily given that he had tried to kiss her and she ran in the opposite direction at full-speed but she was avoiding his gaze as Rosalie cleaned the station with her last bottle of Dettol when Eddie entered.

“How bad is it?” Campbell asked, eagerly.

Clearly Eddie was also annoyed with Evelyn’s behavior because he bitterly said, “We're getting nothing; they're afraid we may be a luxury they cannae afford; but they do wantae know if we want to do something for the Open Day next week.” He turned to Fergus, “What do you think?”

“They can't do this!” Campbell whined as Y/N went to him, calming him down by running her hands through his floppy locks, he leaned into their touch.

“How long can we keep going?” Eddie asked Fergus.

“A few months, or...” Fergus started.

“Few days.” Eddie finished.

“They are nipping my brilliant career in the bud!” Campbell shouted.

“They want rid of you, you know.” Francine said.

“Oh, aye?” Eddie asked and Francine nodded.

“That's how they do things in here. They never say ‘ye cannae do that’ or ‘ye cannae have that’, but ye cannae. You wantae put a poster up by your bed, they'll tell you there's nae Blu-tack. If you find some Blu-tack, they tell you it'll damage the paint. If you get some paint, they'll tell you the color doesnae match. They never actually stop you, but somehow you just stop.”

Y/N chuckled bitterly, “Story of my life.”

“Well, not this time.” Campbell said, determinedly, “Eddie, you tell them that yes, we do want to do something for the Open Day. We are gonna run a fundraiser to buy a new mixing desk.”

“How?”

“I see a Hospital Radio Road Show on a flatbed lorry. I see music and dancing. I see reporters!” He said, enthusiastically.

“I see no money, Campbell.” Eddie rubbed his temple.

“Well, we'll charge to play requests and dedications! And then, we will pull off one absolutely brilliant publicity stunt that will blaze its colors across every newspaper in Scotland!” He declared as Y/N got an idea.

“Such as?” Eddie asked, flatly.

“...I don’t know!” Campbell sputtered but remained undeterred, “I-I could get up on the roof of the hospital and threaten to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.

“Aye, but they might want you to jump.” Y/N said in a slightly sarcastic deadpan voice.

“Well then I'll threaten no to jump unless the punters give us enough to buy a new mixer.” Campbell half-joked, getting close to her, at least she was making eye contact with him again.

“Campbell, they are not going to let you threaten to jump off the hospital rooff for their Mental Health Week Open Day!” Eddie scolded.

“It was only my first idea!” Campbell defended, “Come on, Y/N, Fergus, Rosalie—we've gotta mobilize the troops! Hospital radio must survive!”

He took Y/N’s hand and walked off with Fergus following while the skeptical Eddie sat down and Rosalie was writing in her notebook.

Campbell came back and spoke to Rosalie, “Rosalie, what are you doing?”

“Uh, just—writing a list.” She said.

“Come on!”

“I gotta make a phone call!” Y/N said and ran down the hall as Campbell whined after her.

“Y/N!”

Campbell gathered the gang and the inmates for an announcement which as per usual annoyed Alistair.

“Fellow inmates! I suppose you're all wondering why I've asked you here today.”

“Just get on with your bid.” Alistair complained.

“Yes, how dare we interrupt your TV time.” Y/N deadpanned.

"I liked it better when you didn't speak at all." Alistair muttered, grumpily.

“We all remember what life here was like before hospital radio.” Campbell said.

“Aye, a lot quieter.” Hector piped up.

"Becasue Y/n never spoke." Alilaster grumbled but he was ignored completely.

“You're right, Hector! Hospital radio has brought us music, laughter, got us dancing in the corridors! Before that, the most excitement we got here was listening to you fart God Save the Queen or waiting for Myra the Catatonic to blink or trying to get Y/N to talk!” He smiled at her with a light in his eyes, “Now, is that what you want to go back to?” Campbell then turned to look at Sheila who was shaking her head, “Is it?”

“No!” She said.

Campbell paced with his hands behind his back as if a solider, addressing his troop, making Y/N Well. Unless we can raise the dosh to buy a new mixer, that's all there's going to be round here.

“What's a ‘mixer’?” Billy asked.

“Shh!” Margaret shushed him as Fergus and Eddie exchanged amused looks.

“But with your help, we are going to be holding a fundraiser at the Open Day. We are going to be staging a Hospital Radio Road Show, through a 5 kilowatt P.A. on a flatbed lorry in the courtyard, and we're going to need volunteers. To help set up and run the show; to help rattle tins—” Campbell explained, passionately and Y/N noticed Rosalie writing down in her little notebook, “but most of all, to help with the main fundraising event of the day, the Loony Pools!”

Y/N muffled her laughter into her palm as Eddie repeated this questioningly in a low voice to an amused Fergus. “Loony Pools?”

Campbell took a stack of homemade coupons from Y/N, giving her a grateful smile, “We're gonna be handing out coupons, like this one, with details of the contestants—half loonies, half boring folk—who'll be assigned numbers, one to twenty-four, by lottery. Two loonies in a pair is a score draw of three points. But if only the odd-numbered contestant's a loony, then it's a home win, one point. If only the even-numbered contestant is a loony, then it's an away win, one and a half points. If neither of them are loonies, it's a no-score draw of two points. A pound a line, best of eight, high score wins, five dividends of cheap prizes.”

The patients muttered in confusion and Hector asked, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m lost too, Cam.” Y/N muttered.

“...Basically, it's Spot the Loony.” Campbell summed up.

“Oh, cheeky!” A patient said.

“That’s you.” Y/N said in a low tone, nudging Campbell, “Cheeky little rascal.”

Campbell let a blushing smile as his cheeks reddened before turning back to the patients with a goofy lovestruck smile on his face, bouncing on his heels, excitedly. “Now! Volunteers?”

“Aye. I'll volunteer.” Margaret raised her hand.

“Me as well!” Billy volunteered.

“Me too!” Y/N chimed in.

“That's the spirit! Because we are going to show them—” Campbell beamed and then he started chanting while holding his fist up as if rebelling against institutional oppression… they kind of were… in terms of rebelling against oppression towards mental health, rather than racism… though oppression against racism could cause mental health problems. Because rude, normal people suck. “We are loonies and we are proud! Say it! We are loonies, and we are proud!”

“We are loonies, and we are proud! We are loonies, and we are proud!” The patients and Y/N chanted with him.

“Now! Any questions?” Campbell asked.

“Aye. Can I go to the toilet?” Billy asked.

Away you go.” Campbell dismissed him, “Any other questions?”

“Where is this flatbed lorry coming from?” Alistair asked.

“That's a detail we haven't worked out yet, but we're working on it.” Campbell admitted.

“So, who's bringing this massive P.A. then?” Margaret said.

“Well, that's another detail that we've not sorted out yet.” He replied.

“What exactly have you sorted out so far?” Alistair asked, annoyed.

“Well, Sandy in the kitchen's been saving us some tins to rattle.” Campbell muttered.

The patients then muttered unhappily as they left.

“Aw, come on! Have some faith!” Campbell whined.

Campbell leaned back on a table in dejection. Y/N went to his side, leaning against him, comfortingly as she placed a hand on his sternum, gently.

“We can still rattle the tins.” She said, encouragingly, he didn’t say anything, he just rested his floppy-haired head on her shoulder and she ruffled his hair but when she stopped he let out a whined and buried his head into the crook of her neck as she scratched his head, comfortingly as Rosalie was still over by the window making a list.

Campbell couldn’t sleep, he was too sad and lonely despite having several roommates. He kicked his covers off like a toddler when staggered down the hallway to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested by her refusing basic needs like sleep, food, and water, and he opened the door to find Y/N reading How To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. She looked up to see Campbell smiling warmly, reassuring her when he saw the fear and nervousness in her eyes which eased softly.

“I just… couldn’t sleep. I’m depressed.” He frowned.

She gave him a gentle smile and ushered him over, he got under the covers next to her but kept his distance, noting that they had never done this before and Y/N was jumpy with men.

Silence as she continued to read, “What… are you reading?” He asked, awkwardly.

“How To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Never read it.”

“Too dark for your internal sunshine.” She said, ruffling his hair. "I usually perfer audiobooks but... I've learned to be cautious about hearing headphones when everyone else is asleep."

“Favorite character?”

“Boo Radley. He’s likely autistic. Misunderstood yet with a gold heart like us.” She said and rested her head against his shoulder and Campbell hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she started to read to him be before she dozed off in his arms. He smiled down at her and he turned off her light and kissed the top of her head.

Around midnight, Rosalie entered the boy’s dormitory before finding that Campbell wasn’t there, so she went to Y/N’s personal dormitory as per requested and opened the door to find the two “strictly” friends sleeping next to each other. Or rather, full-on cuddling with Y/N’s head on his shoulder and him with his arms wrapped around her.

“Campbell! Y/N? Are you awake?” She asked in a whisper, neither answered so she turned on Y/N bedside lamp.

Campbell finally woke and reacted to the light, “Jesus! What did you do that for?”

Y/N groaned and pulled the covers over her head, hugging herself into Campbell’s chest, making him let out a gasp and squirming slightly before turning back to Rosalie.

“I wanted to know if you two were awake.” Rosalie said and Y/N groaned from under the covers, saying that she was going back to sleep and no one was going to stop her from doing so.

“Aye, well, I am now.” He sighed, annoyed, he huffed and shifted like, why am I awake, “What do you want?”

“I've been making some lists, Campbell.” She said.

“You're always making lists.” Campbell pointed out like, why do I have to be awake now as Rosalie sat in a chair next to the bed.

“But these ones are for you.” She said and handed the lists over to the sleep-deprived boy from her purse.

"Road haulage companies in the greater Glasgow area." He read and then dryly remarked, unaware that Y/N had gone stock still, “All right, well, thanks, Rosalie, I'm sure I'll find this very useful.”

Y/N suddenly moved urgently, making Campbell jump, scared he had done something wrong. She threw the covers off her, giving Campbell the chance to look down at her nightgown that said, “not crazy, just misunderstood”, his lips twitched into a small smirk of amusement before she spoke.

“Road haulage companies are bound to have flatbed lorries in their fleet! I bet someone'll loan us one, it is for charity.” Y/N said.

Rosalie handed him another paper as he realized what this all meant, “And that's a list of P.A. hire and sales companies; could have some luck there. And this is a list of local merchants who might donate prizes for your Loony Pools. You can recruit most of your non-loonies from the staff, although you'll have to be dead careful, because some of the staff aren't exactly certified…” She had a twirly loony gestured at her head, “non-loonies.

“So not Stuart… or Eddie.” Y/N said. “I could call some of my cousins that live in Edinburgh. They’re all normal, studying abroad.”

“Aye. This is a list of staff bulletin boards in the hospital—" Rosalie continued.

It can be done! You've cracked it, Rosalie!” Campbell said, enthusiastically and he went to shake her hand when she flinched and he remembered, “Oh, sorry.”

“Listen, you couldn't... do something for me, could you?” Rosalie requested.

“Aye, anything!” Campbell said as Y/N placed her chin on his shoulder to look over it as Rosalie handed him a parcel of ugly clothes.

“Listen, you couldn't just put this in your locker and then forget about it?”

“What's in it?”

“Some new clothes Jim brought me.” Rosalie replied.

“Why do you want to put that in my locker?” Campbell said.

“Ugh, this is the most hideous dress I have ever seen.” Y/N said, crinkling her nose at it.

“So I could pretend I lost them. Then I wouldn't have to wear them.”

“You don't want to wear them, don't wear them!”

“Well, Jim says I can't go home unless I wear them.” Rosalie explained and Y/N just flopped onto her back.

“Men.” She scoffed and Campbell gave her an offended look.

“And they want to give me drugs so I can't keep me head straight and defend myself from the germs. I'm down to me last bottle of Dettol but Jim won't let me buy any more, and the doctor says—"

“Now don't let them push you around, Rosalie. Stand up to them.” Campbell encouraged her and Y/N muttered something, sardonically.

“How?”

“You just say…” Campbell then spoke in a bad American accent that vaguely resembled a Brooklyn accent, "‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

Y/N turned her head to look at him oddly as Rosalie shook her head, “I couldn't do that.”

“How no?”

“I'm not American.” Rosalie pointed out.

“Aye, but it sounds that brilliant when they say it in the films.” He said and Y/N laughed, “‘I'm not gonna take any more o' dis crapola’."

"I'm not going to take any more of this... crapola." Rosalie repeated in her normal voice.

“Uh... you're gonna have to work on the accent.” Campbell said.

“"I'm not gonna take any more of... dis... crapola." She repeated, slowly and awkwardly in an even worst accent. Then she giggled and covered her mouth with her hands as if she had done something scandalous.

Campbell laughed as Y/N rose herself back to having her chin back on Campbell’s shoulder, “That's the spirit!”

“What am I going to do with these clothes?” Rosalie asked.

“Chuck 'em. Burn 'em.” Campbell dismissed.

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Robbie.” Rosalie said and Y/N frowned. Who was Robbie.

“Well, give them to Mad John the Pyromaniac, he'll take care of them.” Campbell said before realizing something, “Did you just call me Robbie?”

Rosalie hurriedly rubbed her hands with Dettoll, “Maybe I'll just put them under my mattress.” She gathered her stuff and then left.

"Right, well, that was a thing." Campbell deadpanned.

“That was odd.” Y/N said.

“Okay, sleepy time.” Campbell said and turned off the light and pulled Y/N into him playfully, making her giggle slightly which warmed his heart.

They couldn’t go back to sleep for a while as Campbell traced circles in her shoulder before he asked, “What do you think you’ll do after you leave?”

“I don’t know. Write? I like to write. Maybe I could be your DJ manager.”

“Yeah, I’ll add it to my list of things to do next to lose my virginity.” He said before hesitantly asking, “are you still a virgin? Not that I want to take it but… I'm not saying that I wouldn't, I mean I would, no! What I mean...”

“No.” She cut him off.

“What?”

“No, I’m not a virgin.” She said and snuggled into the pillow, ending the conversation.

A few days later, Campbell and Y/N were on the air, “Just to remind you that tomorrow, Saint Jude's Hospital Radio Roadshow is going to roll into Open Day, and we need your help to raise money for a new mixer. Without it, hospital radio will soon sound like this.” Silence. Rosalie and Francine looked at him and Y/N in confusion and he smiled meaningfully at them as Y/N giggled into his shoulder, “So! Come along and show your friends, your relations, and the local community that we are loonies, and we are proud!”

Campbell put on Don't Let Me Down as Eddie entered.

“Jesus, what's all this?” Eddie asked.

“You're late.” Rosalie scolded him.

“Sorry, I was working.” Eddie said as Campbell and Y/N pulled their headphones off to watch in amusement.

“Ah, well, here's your list. And you better get started or you'll never get through it.

"Go to car. Put key in ignition. Drive to Hot Jam P.A. hire." Eddie read the thorough instructions.

“There's your address.” Rosalie said, handing him a card.

"Collect speakers. Put in car. Drive back. Take key from ignition." Eddie continued to read.

“Rosalie's nothing if not thorough.” Campbell laughed and Y/N joined in.

“Francine, isn't that banner ready yet?” Rosalie demanded.

“Just finished! And then I have to help Fergus cord the leads.” Francine told her.

“Just give me a minute.” Fergus said which set off Rosalie again.

“A minute? You're only halfway down your list and it's nearly eight o'clock.” She snapped at Fergus and then turned to Eddie, “And you. Well, don't stand there like a dead sheep, go to your car.” Then she rounded on Campbell and Y/N, “And what are you two doing?!”

“I'm in the middle of my show!” Campbell whined and then took Y/N’s hand like he couldn’t do it without having a “manic episode” without her and then gave Rosalie a pouty look.

“Okay, but hurry up!” Rosalie said as Isabel entered.

“Rosalie?”

“Can you not see I am busy?” She snapped at her.

“Your husband's just arrived.” Isabel informed her.

“Tell him to screw off!” Y/N called but was ignored.

“Doctor Cairns can see you now.” Isabel said.

“I'll be there in a minute. I can't stop long.” She said and then she left with Isabel.

“What was that?” Eddie laughed.

“Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts every loony.” Campbell teased.

“Kind of men in power.” Y/N smirked, cheekily. “It’s the need for control.”

“She organize all this?”

“Aye! By tomorrow night, this hospital isnae gonna know what hit it. And by Monday morning, the Loony Pools is going to be all over every newspaper in Glasgow, paving the way to our career in professional radio! Fergus faxed the press releases this morning.” Campbell said, idealistically and optimistically.

“Aye. Well, just don't be too disappointed if the press don't show up, okay?” Eddie warned.

Campbell’s smile faltered, “What do you mean?”

“It's just that there's nothing all that newsworthy about a bunch of loonies staging a stunt at an Open Day.” Eddie said.

“But it's Mental Health Week.” Campbell said.

“Well, I gave up smoking on National No Smoking Day, but they didnae put my name in the paper.” Eddie pointed out.

Campbell slumped, now disheartened again.

“Good job, Eddie. You made him sad.” Y/N snapped and she took Campbell’s hand.

Eddie sighed, “I better get these speakers. Listen, Campbell.” Campbell looked up at him with a surly expression and Eddie turned back to him, “If we just raise enough money to buy a cheap, nasty secondhand mixer to keep the station going, that'll be enough for me.”

“Ah, well, that's your trouble, Eddie. You aim low every time.” Campbell said, sourly.

“Aye, but I reach my goals.” He said and then left.

“They’ll show up. Even I called some.” Y/N told him, “Hey,” she cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at her, stroking his cheek with her thumb, “trust me?”

He smiled, still somewhat disheartened but believing in her, “Yeah, I trust you.”

Campbell and Fergus and the others carried in speakers, “I've got it, Fergus. The day's entertainment is reaching its climax. The last two contestants mount the stage. The audience mark their coupons; they hand them in. When suddenly, a swarm of photographers surge forward, because it turns out that one of the contestants was none other than—Spike Milligan! The greatest manic-depressive of our time!

“Spike Milligan?” Fergus said.

“Seven out of ten folk will probably think he's a patient! What a news story, eh? What a scoop!” He said, enthusiastically.

“There's only two things wrong with that, Campbell. First, how are you going to get Spike Milligan to appear in your Loony Pools for tomorrow afternoon?”

“Y/N.” Campbell pointed at the H/C-haired girl.

“Uh, a pal of mine's girlfriend's sister went to university with his grandson—” Y/N said, vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

“—Second, everybody knows what he looks like.” Eddie said.

“Good point. We'll need to disguise him.” Campbell said when Rosalie entered wearing just a hideous dress that Jim hadn’t been appreciative of at all as she rubbed her hands with Dettol. “What are you doing wearing that horrible dress?”

“What's going on?” She asked as she set the bottle down on the edge of the table where a speaker is sitting.

“These are the speakers you sent for.

“You can't bring these in here yet I haven't cleaned them! Take them out!” She complained.

“We're going, we're going...” Eddie said and he picked up a speaker and knocked over her bottle of Dettol.

Rosalie gasped, staring in horror as the tension intensified. “It's gone.”

“...I'll get a mop.” Francine said, leaving to do so as Rosalie started to panic.

“That was my last bottle!”

“It's okay, it's okay...” Campbell reassured her.

“What am I going to do? There's germs. There's germs!” She cried.

“Shh, it's okay, Eddie's going to get you some more from the late-night shop.” Y/N reassured her.

“Where's the late-night shop?”

“Fergus'll show you.”

“Uh, I've escaped twice today already.” Fergus protested and Y/N turned to glare at him.

“Germs... kill! And they're everywhere!” Rosalie cried.

“Look, do you want them to come and sedate her? Go!” Campbell hissed and Fergus left with Eddie to get her some more Dettol.

“I’ll pay you back!” Y/N called after them.

“Germs. Kill. Do you not understand? Germs. Kill.” Rosalie panted before going to sit down,“Robbie got sick. Jim said I wasn't washing the lettuce properly. So I washed it and washed it. But he was still sick. Jim said it was 'cause the floors was dirty. So I washed them and washed them. But Robbie stayed sick. Jim said it was the drains, the toilet, the sinks, the dirty washing. The cutting board and the kitchen knives! I made lists of all the places the germs could be. I washed everything! But no. Robbie stayed sick.” Rosalie held back her tears as her voice waivered, “Until he died. I never managed to kill all those germs...”

The death of her son combined with the rage of her husband, who blamed her because he couldn’t blame his son.

“What did he die of?” Campbell asked, gently.

“...Leukemia.”

“Oh, Rosalie...” Campbell said, softly while Y/N knew that this wasn’t the time to bring up that Leukemia was caused by genetics, not germs. It was likely the complusion and intense anxiet had already set in by the time they found out.

“Jim worshipped that lad. He hasn't been the same since.” Rosalie mourned, staring into the distance.

“Trauma can change people. It changed me.” Y/N confessed in a small voice.

Isabel then came in, “Y/N, your cousins are here.”

She tensed and hesitated before leaving without a word. Campbell stood up, watching her leave, slightly concerned.

On opening day, “That’s a lot of people.” Campbell worried, looking out at the crowd.

“Cams, you’ll be great.” Y/N encouraged him.

“By the way, did you call my dad?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged one shoulder, “so you can prove him wrong.”

“Why wouldn’t you consult me first?”

“I didn’t know how’d you react?”

“Not only are there hundreds of people but my road sweeper father, Y/N, I don’t think I can…”

Y/N suddenly stepped closer to him and raised herself on her toes, making his voice die as her lips teased him by getting close to his then pulling away. “I believe in you, Cammie. I’ve always believed in you.”

“Good luck kiss?” He breathed.

She moved to his ear and whispered, “We’ll see.” She started to pull away which made him whine before she turned back and pecked him on the lips and ran off, leaving him blushing like a schoolboy with a stupid look on his face.

Day Tripper played as Campbell spoke into the microphone, “This is for all you day-trippers out there who came to find out what it's like to be loony for a day. So if you've just arrived, get on your straitjacket, plug yourself into the nearest electrical socket, and get on down!”

“Not bad for a looney, huh?” Y/N told Campbell’s father.

“I thought you didn’t speak.” He said, as respectful as ever.

“Your son was going to give up because of you so I spoke up and told him what an ass you are. You’re selfish, inconsiderate, and miserable with your life so you take it out on the son who didn’t turn out like you wanted but guess what manic-depressive disorder is eighty percent genetic and more likely passed down from the father's side of the family than the mother’s, just because there's no known family members of your family doesn't mean there weren't any, you prideful ass. It can also be triggered by stress, emotional abuse, neglect, being bullied, loneliness, isolation, pressure, you know all those you put upon him so he’s a disappointment to you because you’re a disappointment to him in terms of parenting. He can’t turn it off like a switch and it is not an act. So, get your head out of your ass before he gets another manic attack and kills himself because of it.”

She smiled, psychopathically and then walked off, leaving him in stunned silence that she would speak to him like that, and she joined the others as Rosalie was reading out requests.

“Big Girls Don't Cry, The Four Seasons. All Kinds of Everything—”

Eddie had been trying to find the requested records, “You're going too fast!”

“You're just finding too slow.” Rosalie hissed.

“Let me help. What else is there?” Y/N asked.

“Polly.”

“What?” Y/N asked, suddenly so alarmed that her entire body flinched with fear, unaware of the man who had been taking pictures of her was watching but not taking pictures.

“Polly by Nirvana.” She repeated the request that unnerved Y/n when Campbell started talking again and one of her cousins hurried over to her, noticing her cousin’s alarm.

youtube

“Yes, it's time again to separate the loonies from the boring folk, so get ready to mark your X, boys and girls, because if you are one of our lucky winners today, you may walk out of here with one of our fabulous prizes! Which, if you happen to be on a Section 26, means somebody'll come and bring you right back again. You could win a teddy bear, a dancing Coke can, a bottle of cheap sherry, a fruitcake, or a week's supply of cat food. We wanted to give away a color telly and a portable Jacuzzi, but they wouldnae trust us with anything electrical.” He chuckled.

Y/N and her cousin were having a whisper conversation, it was heated like an argument but wasn’t an argument, more of her cousin reassuring her of something when Hector grabbed her arm, making her jerk away into her cousin’s arms who held onto her protectively, looking at Hector as if trying to see if she should beat him down.

“Sorry. Y/N, Mark’s not here.”

Rosalie materialized next to them, “What?”

“He's supposed to be contestant twenty-two, but they discharged him this morning!” Hector warned.

“You'll have to take his place, then.” Rosalie said.

“No, I couldnae!” Hector denied, fearfully.

“You're right. They'd know straightaway you was one of the loonies.

“Rosalie!” Y/N scolded, “where’s your husband? He’d qualify as a looney. What kind of husband doesn’t show up to support his wife?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, loonies and loonettes—” Campbell continued, “Please welcome our next pair of contestants, numbers twenty-one and twenty-two on your coupon.

“Fergus, get up there.” Rosalie said, going to the shy electrician.

“What?”

“I said, get up there! Now, Fergus.” She said and put the “22” lanyard around his neck, then went to Hector as Y/N and her cousin went up to Campbell to inform him.

“Cam, uh, Mark got discharged but we’re replacing him with a very grumpy-looking Fergus.”

He smiled gratefully at her for the update and spoke into the microphone, “Can you spot the loonies, day trippers? Have a good wee look while I play you this dedication from all the folk on Ward 11 to all the nice residents of the surrounding community.” Campbell said and played Lazy Sunday. Y/N and her cousin went to leave but he grabbed on to her forearm gently and he quickly kissed her on the cheek and then giggled because of the excitement, being able to do that gave him.

She rose herself on her toe and kissed his nose, making him giggle again before sitting back down.

Y/N and her cousin went to rejoin the others, “He’s cute.” Her cousin said, “He your boyfriend?”

“Uh…”

“More importantly, is he a good guy. So soon after…” Her voice trailed off.

“He’s nothing like him. Campbell's like a walking ray of sunshine.” Y/N reassured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Y/n said, softly.

They joined as Francine did, “Rosalie! That bastard caretaker just said we have to unplug our gear at four o'clock. Everything's plugged intae the power point in his wee room and he's going to unplug us so as he can lock up.

“Oh, perfect, that's just perfect.” Eddie scoffed, annoyed.

“All right, Hector. You spilled them, so you can file them back.” Rosalie said.

“What about the requests?” Francine asked.

“Okay, everybody, no more requests between the letters A and H, you got that? Eddie, go and get us some electric.”

“What?!”

“Try the offices, try the ward. Here's a list of all the power supplies in the hospital. Now go!” Rosalie said, giving him a list.

“How does it have to be me?” Eddie whined.

“You think they're going to give their electricity to a loony? You've got five minutes.” Rosalie said.

“My show's about'ae start!” Eddie complained.

“There's not going to be a show without electric! Now go!” Then she snatched a collection tin from Francine and handed it to Eddie, “Bribe them if you need to.”

“C/N (Cousin's Name), go with him. Eddie, this is my cousin, now go!” Y/N pushed her cousin to leave with him.

“But who's gonna take his show?” Francine asked.

"Francine, this is your big moment." Rosalie told her.

"...Oh no!” Francine stressed and Y/N went to calm her down as Rosalie talked to Margaret

“I'm no gonna take the show! I'm not ready! Make Y/N do it.

“I’m a contestant! I’m number’s coming up.” Y/N protested.

Then Evylyn showed up with a woman they've never met, “Rosalie, I've got someone here I'd like you to meet.

“You're gonna have to wait your turn!”

“Does it look like we’re available to talk, Nazi-ette!?” Y/N shouted at her, “Mental patients are more capable and competent and compassionate than you are!”

Rosalie turned back to Margaret, “You see those stalls over there? There's a list of every stall and what they're selling. Go. Away you go and buy a fruitcake.”

“Rosalie! Are you listening to me?!” Francine shouted before Fergus came up to lead her away before she broke into hysterics.

“Well, that's just about all from me this afternoon—”

“Does I come before L or does L come before I?” Hector wondered.

“Dude, I don’t know, I have the mentally sing the alphabet in my head each time I open a dictionary!” Y/N complained.

“I comes before L.” Rosalie said.

“Rosalie, she's—” Evelyn tired again but was interrupted by Campbell running over to them.

“What happened to Eddie… and C/N?”

“They’ve gone in to find us some electric with. If he doesn't find it in the next two minutes, the caretaker's pulling the plug.”

“Th-they can't do this! Y/N and I haven't been a contestant in the Loony Pools yet!” He complained.

“But I can see the audience, Fergus!” Francine cried.

“You'll be fine.” He reassured her.

“Does S come before T?” Hector asked.

“Could you two help him with his alphabet?” Rosalie asked and Campbell and Y/N went to Hector.

The Caretaker arrived, looking like a grade-a douchebag, “Right! Your time's up! I'm locking up now!”

“If you pull that plug, you are pulling the plug on my whole career!” Campbell shouted at him, pointing at him but the caretaker was unmoved, “It's Open Day, for Christ's sake!”

“Don’t you dare crush his dreams! I’ll crush you!” Y/N shouted at the caretaker but he was still unmoved and unintimidated.

“Just another day for me, girlie.” The caretaker said.

Y/N lunched to attack him but Campbell pulled her back, helped with Y/n's cousin ran up, grabbing her cousin around the middle.

“Yeah, underestimating her isn’t a good idea.” C/N said, “Also calling her ‘girlie’.”

“We’ve got it. We've got it.” Eddie shouted and he swapped the plug into the power point they brought.

Campbell and Y/N went back to help Hector with the sorting again, “If "The" is the first word, should it no go into the Ts?

“The’s don’t count!” Y/N said to Hector as Campbell frustrated and annoyed, took the record out of his hand.

“Don’t blame him, Cams. He can’t help it.” Y/N scolded and gently bonked him on the head with a record.

“Y/N, GET UP ON STAGE! YOU’RE NEXT!” Rosalie screamed and Y/n and C/N ran up t the stage putting on their twenty-three and twenty-four markers.

“Hello! This is the Fabulous Francine. And it's time once again for the Loony Pools!

“So, get ready to mark your X for the second to last time as I give you contestants number twenty-three and twenty-four. This is Y/N L/N and C/N C/L/N, can you spot the loony?”

Y/N and her cousin were evenly tied in the round as Eddie made his way to his grandmother. “You decided to come.”

“Nope! I’m the loony!” Y/N called and then bowed in a silly manner before straightening back up, making her hair flip through the air.

“She’s a cute lass, the one with the h/c.” Eddie’s grandmother said.

Eddie gave her a look of horror, “Grandma, she’s eighteen.”

“Above the legal age.”

“She’s kind of with Campbell.” Eddie said as Y/N helped put Campbell’s marker on of twenty-five and cupping his cheek.

“Get ready to mark your X for the last time as I give you contestants number twenty-five and twenty-six.” Francine said.

“She is nice lassie.” Eddie’s grandmother said, referring to Francine.

“For the final time, can you spot the loony?”

“How you don't ask her for date?” She asked Eddie.

“She's the one I was telling you about, the new DJ I'm training.” Eddie told her.

“She doesnae look crazy!” Eddie’s grandmother gasped.

“Do I know that guy?” Eddie asked, referring to contestant twenty-six.

“Can we have one without the glasses, Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“Curse! I knew the disguise wouldn't work!” Spike Milligan said, taking off the sunglasses.

“Try acting loonier.” Campbell said in fake sotto.

“What? For that I want money!” Spike Milligan teased and the audience and Campbell laughed as Y/N got on stage and hugged Spike Milligan, “you’re lucky, my granddaughter-in-law likes you so much.

“What!?” Campbell exclaimed.

“Do you mind being asked to play "Spot the Loony", Mr. Milligan?” A photographer asked.

“No. No. I do not mind being asked to play Spot the Loony. But…” Spike Milligan said in a slow, silly voice before dropping the voice, “I object to being called Spot!”

“She did it! The wee bastard got Spike Milligan!” Eddie beamed.

When they took the picture of the “Looneys”, Y/N cupped Campbell’s cheeks and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, shocking him until his hands went loosely to her hips as he kissed back. This was going to be their first kiss forever.

That night Campbell laid in Y/N’s bed as they shared lazy kisses, smiling like idiots.

“So, does this mean we’re together?” He asked.

“If… if you want.” She said, shyly.

“Oh my god, yes.” He said, kissing her.

“My… my trauma doesn’t scare you?” She asked.

“Does mine?”

“Mine’s… different, Cam. I…”

“Shh, shh, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” He whispered, stroking her cheek, “we can just kiss.”

She gave him a smile and kissed him.

A few days later, they were in the studio while Fergus was out getting the newspaper.

“I'd like to thank all of you who turned out to support the team for Open Day on Saturday. And having raised a grand total of six-hundred-and-forty-three pounds and sixty-seven pence, plus an anonymous donation of five hundred pounds,” Eddie said into the microphone and Campbell fist bumped goofily and then gave Y/N a peck, having become very affectionate towards her since they started dating despite never having gone on a real date due to them being busy from the station and being patients in a mental institution, “from somebody with a lot of musical taste, we are still in business!”

Outside the studio, the patients applauded as the intro to the next song started, “I think you all deserve a big hand.”

Campbell took Y/N hands and swayed with her to the music before Fergus entered and he turned to him, excitedly, “Well?”

“We're in.” Fergus smiled.

“YES!” Campbell shouted, jumping up and down before grabbing Y/N’s hands and making her jump with him.

Fergus laid down the newspapers, “Daily Record, Evening Times, The Herald...”

Campbell picked up on and read the headline, proudly, “;Just a Pair of Loony Goons’!”

"‘Spike Milligan with Campbell Bain and Y/N L/N of Saint Jude's Hospital Radio’!” Eddie read.

“We've done it! We're on our way!” Campbell cheered as Y/N kissed his cheek before he turned his head and kissed her.

“Campbell, you are a genius.” Eddie said, ignoring this display.

“Genius? “ He turned to Rosalie as he threw the paper down, “She's the genius. Rosalie, we're on our way!” He excitedly went to hug Rosalie but she drew back and Campbell remembered and pulled back as well, “sorry.”

Rosalie debated with herself, mentally before pulling off one of her gloves and holding her hand out to Campbell as the others watched with interest before Campbell cautiously took Rosalie’s hand, shaking it.

Campbell delightedly then raked back his floppy hair and started dancing as Y/N, Francine, and Fergus joined in.

Y/N took over after Eddie and talked about a phone her cousin had given her to call in requests.

“Hey, what’s your request?” Y/N asked, cheerfully, high on the happiness Campbell positively exuded.

“Polly by Nirvana.” Said a low, whispery voice that chilled Y/N to her bones. “Did you get my letter, Polly?”

Y/N’s face paled and she suddenly bolted out of the studio, so Campbell took over.

After the show, Campbell entered Y/N’s room to find her sitting on her bed, staring at an open parcel when he walked over and he saw it was a copy of the newspaper with them on it, in red ink—or what she hoped happened to be some odd red ink that was somehow both dark and bright—was her face circled with Campbell's eyes crossed out and his face scribbled on. Above her circle said: I gotcha, babe. See you soon, Polly.

"Y/N/N, what's wrong?" Campbell asked, “Tell me what’s wrong? You sent you that?”

“He found me, Cam.” She cried, burying her face into his shoulder as he hugged her, protectively.

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blowflyfag · 2 months

Text

Wrestler ANNUAL: Winter 1983

Unbelievable Violence!!!

SHEIK BATTLES THE ANIMAL INSIDE A CAGE

Put George “The Animal” Steele and The Sheik into one arena, or even one city, and the violence explodes. These two men are incapable of ever stopping. All they know how to do is turn a civilized sport into World War III, as they recently did in Detroit

PHOTOS BY BRAD McFARLIN

RECALLING THE RESPECTIVE careers of The Sheik and George “The Animal” Steele reads like an historical narrative of civil insurrection or bulky FBI files.

Riots. Bloodshed. Men hospitalized. Women carried from arenas on stretchers. Civilian petitions to ban them. Police investigations.

But nothing either madman has ever done compared with a recent night in Detroit. It was shocking. Gory. An unbelievable riotous wrestling bout.

“I don’t like him, hey him, the guy, him, The Sheik,” hissed Steele in the locker before the match. Steele nibbled on a leather belt.

“Sheik, him, that’s right, that's his name, The Sheik, him, the guy I wrestle. I don’t like him, why? Who. Who do you mean? Yeah, him, The Sheik. He is mean. He calls me names. I don’t like when people call me names. I don’t like that. He is mean. Hey, him, I will crush him until he cannot move. I will nibble and gnaw on his body until all he has, who, him, hey? All he has are his eyeballs and then I will eat them too, yum, yum, eyeballs, yummy.”

Steele bit off a chunk of leather and chomped.

[Was this the most violent match in wrestling history? Little else could be expected after promoters decided to lock George Steele and The Sheik inside a steel cage. Steele has Sheik almost beaten, but loses concentration when he takes time out to taste his own blood (above). Sheik is in agony as Steele crushes the Arabian into the metal barrier (left).]

The Sheik would not even condescend to make remarks about Steele. His reply to any and all questions consisted of turning those dark Arabic eyes toad the questioner and dropping down his jaw to permit spittle to fall upon his chin. Then he turned away, muttering in a foreign dialect and spitting into his locker.

Any wrestling arena vibrates with tense anticipation before an exciting match. But this night in Detroit, there was an added spectator out front. Not anxiousness. Nor anticipation. But fear.

The history of Steele and The Sheik alarms most wrestling people. Many people fear that someday they will end a match with their opponent taken out of the arena and to the morgue. Forever. They go far beyond brutality. Far beyond violence. They attack like subhuman beasts intent on mindless description.

That is what stirs the crowd. Fear. And, since fear often attracts and repels, the spectators gathered in Detroit shifted in their seats, wondering how they would keep their eyes on the match, wondering how they couldn’t watch.

[Sheik’s face betrays his fear as Steele is about to take a big bite out of the Arabian madman’s leg. Note Steele licking his lips in preparation for his between-meal snack.]

Very quickly into the match, the two men, and we use that world loosely, clawed and bit and punched and kicked like insane animals. The crowd cheered, booed, applauded, gasped. They did everything befitting a huge arena captivated by a glimpse into primitive behavior.

When action spilled out of the ring, bounced off the ring apron and into the front rows, the crowd cheered, screamed, ran away. But all those who ran away eventually paused and looked back. Sheik and Steele continued battling using everything tied down and not tied down as a weapon in their savage struggle.

Blood spewed out of massive cuts on their faces, Still they battled. Still the crowd cheered and jeered, leaping to their feet, waving fists, shouting out encouragement or distaste. But no one looked away.

Eventually the referee had to halt the war. A double disqualification was declared. The men were sent back, half limping, growling to their respective dressing rooms. And the crowd hooted, cheered, booed, applauded. Still they didn’t stop looking.

[Above: The Animal bellows in pain as The Sheik grabs a handful of back hair and pulls. Below: A desperate Sheik takes the high ground in a vain attempt to escape this brutal match.]

Steele forced away attempts to stitch his wounds. He sat for a long while, started drinking disinfectant. H sat for a long while, staring off. “I want to kill that man, no, want to kill him, hey? Him. Hate him,” muttered Steele. “Why? Dunno, just do, just hate him, just want him dead. Dunno? Call me names, say things, act mean to me, hey, dunno. Now? Kill now, no, too tired, too weary, no longer fight now, hurt too much, someday soon, again, will kill again.” The Sheik maintained an impassive facade while his personal Arab physician attended to him. He wouldn’t answer any questions. All he did was stare.

#the iron sheik #George the animal Steele #wrestling magazine #magazine scan #magazine transcript #tw blood #george steele

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teresa-67 · 3 years

Text

The First Time

Pairing: Virgin!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4100 (sorry)

Summary: Dean’s charm helps him to get a lot in life, but there was always one thing he was too scared of doing to actually follow through. Will Y/N’s experience and reassurement be enough to help him overcome his fear?

Rating: 18+

Warnings: smut, grinding, hint of fingering, bit of angst, protected sex, p in v, loss of virginity, fluff, adorable Dean, insecure Dean, Dean being two years younger than reader

A/N: The absolute biggest THANK YOU to the saint and absolute darling that has way too much work with my stuff than she should @winchest09. Thank you so much babe for giving this a look. I appreciate it SO much! ❤ Still, all the mistakes are mine!

A/N: This story, and all the others that will come, wouldn’t be here without my 24/7 supporter, my cheerleader, the person who encourages me everytime I’m in doubt (which is a lot) and still hasn’t given up on me, my bunny @chocolateheart I love you so much boo ❤ Thank you for always being there for me❤

Feeling her small hands slide up his chest, Dean takes the initiative and pulls the busty blonde closer to his body. Their bodies moving together to the music blasting from the speakers as the parquet fills up with newcomers. Carding her fingers through his soft hair, she gives him a seductive smirk as she leans on her tiptoes and starts to nip at the sweaty skin of Dean’s neck.

Dean’s hand is going to the globes of her, the tight skirt she’s wearing hugging her curves perfectly, but when he squeezes the round flesh, the blonde stops her assault on his neck and pulls away. The freshman looks at her with a frown, pulling his hand away in worry that he might have upset her or made her feel uncomfortable. But just as he is about to ask ‘what’s wrong’, the girl goes pale as a sheet and rushes to the closest bathroom. Dean follows the sight of her, watching as some other girl goes after her.

The young man looks at his best friend who is getting pretty handsy with a fine brunette and gives him a questioning look. Benny only shrugs in response and smirks down at the petite girl before leaning in to say something in her ear. Dean sighs, watching Benny walk away with the girl on his hip as the southern gives him a wink.

Standing alone in the middle of the crowded room, Dean decides to head to the kitchen to have a one last drink before calling it a night.

Grabbing a beer from the ice bucket, his eyes catch a girl standing by the counter making her own drink. Her hair is wildly resting against her back, her figure being hugged by a red mini dress that compliments her curves nicely and her make up is natural; not over the top and screaming like the other girls around here.

Realizing he’s staring, he clears his throat and leans against the counter top, motioning to her drink, “You have one more there for me, sweetheart?”

Looking down at his drink, he quickly shoves it back between the ice cubes and makes his way over to the counter.

“Hey,” the freshman says with a smile dancing on his lips. His expression falters however as the girl turns her head and the brightest Y/E/C orbs make contact with his green ones. Getting the first real look at her face, Dean has to swallow. This girl is breathtaking.

The girl frowns a little before a smirk makes its way to her plump lips, “Didn’t you just grab a beer?” She looks at the bucket and back at Dean, watching the tips of his ears redden, but he remains cool.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I came for a drink,” the freshman says as confidently as he can. Please, play along.

Looking him up and down, the girl smirks knowingly again before turning her attention back to the display of alcohol in many different bottles before her. “Well, what would you like then?” she asks, looking up at him and Dean is so happy she decided to drop his obvious lie.

“Whatever you have, sweetheart,” the young man replies, gazing into her eyes.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” She smiles a beautiful smile and takes a step closer, holding out her hand.

“Dean,” the freshman grins as well, taking her palm in his.

It didn’t take long for them to move to the dance floor. Their bodies moving, rubbing against each other; it felt like not an inch of space was left between them. Their hands are wandering over each other's flesh so shamelessly; Dean wasn’t afraid about upsetting her when slides his hand down her back and grabbed one of her ass cheeks, hearing her hum into his ear. Y/N’s hot breath ghosts over Dean’s ear before her lips seals around his pulse point, making him take in a shuddering breath and tighten his hold on her. When she starts to nibble at his earlobe, Dean can’t help but comb his fingers through her hair to keep her there as he moans ever so quietly.

“Wanna take this upstairs?” Dean asks breathlessly. He didn’t intend for those words to come out of his mouth, but they found their way out nothenless.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Y/N purrs as she pulls away and takes his hand to lead him up the stairs to the first floor where they find an empty bedroom and she locks the door behind them. Not waiting a second longer, Dean’s lips find hers in a hard kiss as he pins her against the wall, one hand lifting her leg up to his hip while the other grabs her waist tight.

Y/N grips Dean by his neck and slides her tongue along his bottom lip. The freshman gives her permission without a second thought and their tongues start to slide against one another. Dean’s hand starts to graze further up her smooth thigh, he hesitates and stops when his fingers feel the satin of her panties. Dean hasn’t got this far yet, ever. He had never had the chance and when had, he lost the courage to follow through, just like now.

Y/N is grinding against crotch and no matter how badly Dean wants to go there with her, he finds himself internally freaking out. This girl is gorgeous, clearly experienced and probably expects him to be the same, but he’s not. She must feel him tense because she stops kissing him and cups his face when he tries to chase her lips.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks softly, looking into his apple green eyes.

Dean pulls away a little, trying to catch his breath while thinking about his response, “What? Nothing,” he dismisses her like it is really nothing, when in fact, it is something.

Y/N doesn’t buy it though, because she pulls away further to have a better look at his face, dropping her leg from around his hip, “Dean, there’s clearly something that’s bothering you. Do you not want this? If so, just say it and we can go downstairs and dance for the rest of the night, we’ll just have a good time that way.”

She gives him a reassuring smile, gently caressing the apple of his cheek. Dean swallows hard. Fuck, he wants this. But he’s never done it, and what if she realizes that and laughs in his face, what if she -

“Dean?” Her soft voice pulls him out of his head and back to the girl in his arms. Searching his eyes, her face changes a little. “Are you… a virgin?” She asks, not a hint of judgement or amusement in her voice as she waits for him to answer.

Dean doesn’t want to. He wants to get her on that bed and fuck her… but the very thought is making him shake slightly and he knows he can’t lie about that. He has to come clean, apologize and leave her to have real fun with someone else.

When Dean doesn’t meet her eyes, she knows the answer and with her palm still stroking his cheek, she forces him to look at her. “Hey, that’s okay. It’s normal. Don’t feel ashamed or feel like you should be judged for that. You weren’t ready and that’s fine.” Y/N watches relief wash over his face and smirks as she adds, “It’s actually sweet that you haven’t fucked everything in a ten mile radius like everybody else.”

Dean can’t help but laugh at that, instantly feeling better, “Thanks Y/N,” he smiles, leaning into her touch. “But I want to. I really want to do all kinds of things with you, I just…” the freshman sighs, licking his lips. I’m terrified.

Looking at his mouth then back into his green orbs, Y/N runs her fingers through Dean’s hair and bites her pillowy lip.

“Tell you what,” she starts, “I would really like to have sex with you, but not here and not now.” Dean frowns and opens his mouth, but Y/N keeps going. “You’re stressed, and if you want to do this with me, I’d rather make you feel comfortable and safe and I think the best place to do that is my apartment,” she licks her lips while Dean’s confusion grows. “Why don’t you stop by tomorrow evening and we can finish what we started?” The girl smiles softly at him, her eyes gentle as Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he thinks about it.

What she said is true. He is stressed and his little soldier probably wouldn’t be standing at full attention if the pressure he put upon himself got to him. This girl is older than him, probably fucked a couple guys and will know what she is doing. She said she would make him comfortable and safe and that’s how he hoped to feel on his first time. Plus, she is absolutely gorgeous and she hasn’t shown him anything but kindness and reassurement. She is gentle and soft. Dean would love for his first to be with her.

Licking his lips one more time, more from nerves than anything, the young man takes in a deep breath as he answers, “Okay.”

Hearing the knocking on your door the next night, you abandon the half done assignment on your laptop and go to open it. Adjusting your tank top from where it has slid up. Peeking through the peephole you smile to yourself, you half expected that he wouldn’t come, but opening the door you come face to face with Dean.

“Hi.” He gives you a little wave, stepping into your apartment when you move aside to let him in, giving you his dimpled smile. He wasn’t sure he would come if he was being honest with himself. He very much wanted to call you and tell you he wouldn’t make it when he stood above the ceramic bowl of his toilet, thinking he was going to throw up from nerves. But then he remembered how good and gentle you were yesterday; and that’s how he now found himself in your apartment.

“You came,” you state as you come to a stop a few inches in front of him. You try to contain your smile when his cheeks start to go pink and his green orbs erratically search your face.

“--No, you’re good. Besides, if you didn’t come then I would have shaved for nothing and I don’t even have one hair,” you say, slowly sliding your hand from his mouth down his jaw and behind his head, playing with the short hair on the back of his scalp. “Anywhere,” you whisper the last part, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You - you said that I could come if but - Y/N if you’ve changed your mind, I --”

Interrupting his cute stuttering by your hand on his mouth, you giggle.

You want to make this memorable for him. Be gentle on him, but you’re playful by nature, so you can’t help but mess with him a little. But your goal tonight is to give him a good time, make this a good experience for him to enjoy.

“Is it hard? To shave...you know?” Dean asks, partially out of curiosity, but the image of one particular smooth, soft place was better.

He is so cute. Your hands travel down his collarbone as they start to shove Dean’s flannel down his shoulders. Your palms go up his strong arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake, making him shiver.

“It’s an art.” Joining your hands at the back of his neck, you pull him down for a slow, deep kiss.

Dean’s arms go around you, his tongue asking permission, which you gladly grant and in a second, his tongue is dancing with yours. For someone who’s not as experienced as you originally thought when you were grinding on the parquet, he sure knows his way around when it comes to kissing. Sucking on his bottom lip, you pull out an unintentional moan from him as you start to back him up towards the couch, shoving him down and breaking your kiss before straddling him.

Kissing him a few more times, you move your attention to his jaw, smelling his gorgeous aftershave as Dean’s big hands cautiously cup your asscheeks. A stark contrast at how he groped them yesterday. You have to smile at how sweet he is, not being that confident quite yet, but that’s what this evening is for.

Trailing your lips up and down his throat, enjoying the shivers it is causing, you seal them around his pulse point. Throwing his head back, Dean takes a shuddering breath as his hold on your ass becomes more firm, making you sit down on his crotch and feel the forming bulge there.

Grinding your hips down, you watch Dean’s reaction; eyes closed, lips parted with his hastened breathing. Smirking, you readjust yourself, opening your legs wider to sit on him more comfortably. The friction of your core against his hardening shaft feels amazing, and gives you a pretty good idea of what was waiting for you. Sliding your fingers between his soft hair, you start rolling your hips, silencing Dean with a kiss when he moans. Gripping your round flesh, he starts to help you move on him. Your movements are slow, you want him to enjoy it but not cum in the process.

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you take his hand and guide it under your top, placing his warm palm over your breast and squeeze it. He gasps into your mouth when you tug on his hair, and you take the liberty to glide your tongue along his again.

Taking the hem of your top with one hand, you let him take it off of you, breaking the kiss once more. Stopping your motions, you watch as Dean’s eyes grow darker. He places his palms on your ribs as his thumbs trace the rounds of your breasts and over your nipples, making you shudder in his hold.

"Kiss them," you encourage him, cupping his cheek as he looks up at you. "After you take off your shirt," you smirk.

Not wasting a moment, Dean reaches behind his back and pulls his shirt over his head. You both smile at each other as you start grinding again, slick making your shorts uncomfortable and you’re sure it does very little to protect Dean's jeans from your wetness.

Sealing his plump, pink lips around your nipple, it is you who now takes a shuddering breath. His hands on your back are pulling you closer, closing the space between you completely as he places open mouth kisses over your chest. Kissing along his shoulder and up his neck, you suck his earlobe in, feeling him bucking his hips up and in that second, you stop.

Parting away from him, one hand on his chest, you feel how fast his heart is beating. The both of you are panting. Dean's hands are on your thighs and his eyes are asking what was wrong.

"Bedroom," you breathe, standing and seeing the wet spot you have left on Dean’s pants.

Biting your lip you see his jaw clench, looking down, before he shoots up and claims your mouth again. Pulling him by his belt, you start going backwards as you work on undoing it, Dean helping you by working on the buttons. You come to a stop when you feel your bed behind you. Parting with Dean, you go to your nightstand to fish out a condom before turning back and shaking it between your fingers as you smirk devilishly.

When Dean sees it, the reality of what's about to come hits him, it really hits him, and it makes him grin like an idiot; the fear shoved to the back of his mind. Kicking off his shoes and shoving his pants down his long, thick bow legs along with his socks, he goes for his boxers next.

"Stop." You hold your hand up, stopping him in his action. Dean takes his hands away as you slowly approach him, holding eye contact with him as you hear his deep breathing. Giving him the small package, you hook your fingers behind the elastic of the black and very tight fabric. "Last chance to stop." You lick your lips, watching his face for any signs that he wants to quit, but there was no trace of that.

"If you don’t do something, I think I'm going to burst," he warns.

Hearing the permission you wanted, you slide his boxers down his legs, palming his ass in the process and watch his cock spring free. Dear Lord. He was big and thick, definitely bigger than most older guys. You know he is gifted, you felt it, but you didn’t expect something so delicious looking. You want to wrap your lips around it, seal them around the red tip until he is coming down your throat… but you know that is not an option, not now. This is his first, and you already had foreplay; you know he wouldn’t last long. You didn’t realise you were staring until he clears his throat, making you blush and look at his face.

"Like what you see?" His smirk grows wider as his voice drops an octave lower. He is trying to seem confident, cocky even, but you can see behind the facade. You know he is scared that you don’t like it. He is asking if it is fine.

Smiling at him, you close the space between you and gently wrap your fingers around his cock, making Dean hiss and drop his forehead onto your shoulder.

"Do you know how sexy you are?" You whisper against his ear, feeling his chest rumble with a growl as he grabs you by your ass and pulls you flush against him, pressing his cock against your covered clit and making you gasp out a moan.

Your shorts are soaked by now and seeing his thick fingers, a delicious idea pops in your mind. Taking his one hand, you guide it over your lower belly and into your pants, hearing Dean take a breath when his fingers meet your wet heat. Still keeping your hand over his, you slide his fingers through your folds. Biting on your lip, you tease his one digit at your opening and shove his thumb onto your clit, where Dean starts to circle gently.

Feeling his digits sliding effortlessly through your pussy lips, you hum every time he gets close to your opening, which Dean notices. Slowly, so slowly, he starts to ease his middle finger into your tight channel. Sliding in and out a few times, you feel his second finger tease at your opening and that’s when you stop him, taking his hand away. Looking up at him a little breathless, you see the worry that he’s done something wrong etched into his beautiful features.

Biting on his bottom lip, you groan against his mouth, “Get on the bed.”

Doing as he is told, Dean climbs on the bed and lays on his back. Getting rid of your ruined shorts, you crawl over at him and you kiss him deeply. Your tongue smothers against his as his hands travel up your back, stopping between your shoulder blades. Kissing down his throat you lick and suck at random places. Going down to his chest you gently take one of his nipples between your teeth and tug on it a little, hearing Dean taking in a sharp breath.

Making your way lower, you kiss over his stomach, following the small patch of hair to his achingly hard cock. Looking up at him, you’re met with lust blown eyes that are following your every move. Tearing your eyes away from his apple green ones, you look down again and debate with yourself if you should take him in after all. The sight of him, ready and hard, is making your pussy clench in anticipation and your mouth water at the thought.

Placing a little kiss at the tip, Dean’s whole body jerks, making you smile. Deciding against your little plan in the end, you climb back up and make yourself comfortable on his thighs, taking the condom he’s offering to you. Pulling the rubber out, you start to roll it down his cock, cautious not to touch him more than necessary. When you have it done, you readjust on him and, supporting on one hand, take him in your palm to rub the tip through your folds. Looking at Dean, you see him watching your actions; waiting for you to take him in.

Rubbing him against your clit a few times, you line him with your entrance, placing both of your hands on his chest as Dean locks his eyes with yours. Swallowing hard, you slowly start to sink down on him.

Throwing his head back, his eyes roll as a whimpering moan leaves his throat, and you swear it is the most sexy noise you’ve ever heard. You can’t help and whine yourself. His cock is stretching you to the extent no one did before him.

You take your time to get used to the amazingly full feeling as Dean is panting underneath you; his throat red and mouth agape, trying to contain himself and not cum the next minute; it was hot. The picture before you making your pussy clench around him and causing Dean to grit his teeth with a grunt, finally looking up at you.

Rolling your hips at first, you try and get your walls accustomed to his length as he twitches inside you. Gripping your thighs, Dean's eyes roam over you like you were the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen; taking you all in. And that look only makes you want him more.

Licking his lips, a thin layer of sweat breaks through his skin as you start lifting your hips and sinking down on him. He feels amazing inside you and you feel amazing around him. From this angle, his tip reaches your sensitive spot perfectly, encouraging you to move faster and harder, even when you try to control yourself.

Leaning down and nibbling at his neck you hear his breathing hasten and his hips start meeting your thrusts. Going up to kiss his lips, you place your forehead on his.

“Touch my clit,” you whisper against his mouth. You see the hesitation behind his eyes again for a second, but his thumb soon starts to rub circles over the little nub. “Harder.” You close your eyes, feeling the sweat break over your body as you roll your hips some more; trying to get yourself there before Dean.

“I’m - I’m gonna -” Dean breathes out. You whine as you sit back up, flattening your palms on his chest, you start to bounce harder, faster, riding him for what it's worth to get you both there.

“Fuck!” Dean gasps, eyes clamping shut and his grip on you loosening as his cock twitches inside you. You shove his thumb away and start to furiously rub your clit. Knowing just the right way to do it and it doesn’t take long for your walls to crash down around him; coming on virgin cock.

Coming down from your high, still panting hard, you look down at Dean. He’s looking up at you, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he tries to get his breathing under control. You smile to yourself, pecking his lips before slowly lifting yourself off of him, Dean helping you, and taking the used condom to throw it to the trash can in the corner.

Laying back down beside him, Dean covers you both with a blanket from the end of the bed and hovers over you to give you a gentle kiss. Parting away and caressing his rosy cheek, you kiss him some more. Leaning into each other's touch you thread your fingers through his damp hair as Dean sighs into your mouth, pulling away again.

“Thank you,” he smiles a bright smile, gently bumping your nose with his, making you giggle.

“That was awesome.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile at him, rubbing gently at his scalp, “It was amazing,” you confirm. It was awesome.

“We should repeat it soon.” he tries, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Definitely,” you chuckle, a stupid grin spreading on Dean’s face as he dives in and kisses you hungrily.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave a feedback. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go hide under my blanket :D

People who for some reason wanted to be tagged, here you go babes: @chocolateheart @waywardrose13 @oneofthesaviorstoo

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ajaviary · 3 years

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Hi boo! I wanted to take part in your event if that's okay! I'd like the character(s) to be a surprise and I'm also completely open to poly ships, love them, even! I'm Sunny, She/Her. I'm the good student type, very focused on my studies, determined and ambitious, but as soon as I get out of class, I love the unexpected, the unknown, the adventures. As much as I like planning my far ahead future, I really enjoy not knowing what tomorrow will bring, like buying random plane tickets and leaving on my own without a dime in my pocket. I spend most of my time reading, writing, studying, traveling whenever I can. My love languages would be words of affirmation and physical touch. Tell me if you need more info, thank you so much for this event ❤️

MHA Match up - Touya Todoroki/Dabi X Keigo Tamaki x Reader (College AU)

Summary: You’ve been hitting the books a little too hard lately, studying for finals like your life depended on it and maybe it did. Touya was amazingly helpful, being your study buddy throughout the whole ordeal. It helped that he was a year above you, he had already been there and done that with a lot of the Gen Ed courses you were taking. Keigo was far more relaxed about the finals, preferring not to stress over them, but it was easy for him to say, he picked up on things so easily and his photographic memory did him so many favors. It came in handy in other ways too. While Dabi was your study buddy, Keigo was the one taking care of you both, feeding you, making sure you guys did find your way to your bed after you just couldn’t stay up any longer. You wouldn’t have believed that Keigo’s carefree attitude would rub off on either one of you but now that finals are over the three of you were off on a surprise adventure that was all Dabi’s idea.

Word Count: 3282

A/N: Thank you so much for joining my Fall in Love Event! I hope you like how this has played out! I really love the dynamic between them. Thanks again!

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You place your feet on the dashboard, your bare feet wiggling as you’d removed your sandals, this unplanned road trip was just what you needed after the dreaded finals week was officially over! It couldn’t have ended at a better time. You’d been ready to crawl into bed and sleep the moment you returned to your apartment. Those plans were derailed obviously, but you knew something was up as you’d been heading toward the bus stop, you’d left your car because Touya had dropped you off for your last exam that morning before he headed to work. Keigo had been still asleep in your bed when you both had been getting ready. To be fair, that man had the world's worst sleep schedule.

Warm fingers slid into your own, you stopped walking so quickly that Dabi had almost knocked you off your feet, his low growl in your ear as he curled his arm around your middle to keep you on your feet was well worth his irritation as you turned to look up at him. “I thought you were working!” You exclaim not at all bothered by the fact that a few of the college kids leaving have to weave around you both, but you don’t care. Your attention was all for him.

His fingers squeeze your own a little tighter his own way of telling you he’s not happy about the earphones in your ears, it was one of the reasons you hadn’t heard him call your name when you’d left the Science Building. He’d been waiting to catch you, but he’d just missed you having gotten taught up in a conversation with Tomura and Toga, when they had spotted him waiting for you. Getting the petite blonde to stop talking was nearly impossible. Thus he’d cut her off and told him he’d catch them later as he’d seen you leave through the crowd.

Touya was the one always harping on you about being aware of your surroundings. It was a safety thing, he was just trying to protect you. He knew some horrible things happened on College Campuses and he didn’t want any of those to happen to you, it was one of the reasons usually Keigo or himself would meet you outside your late night classes. It also said that he didn’t want to have an argument about them.

“I took a few days off -” He started but was immediately cut off as your hand raised to press your wrist against his forehead, checking to make sure he wasn’t sick. He looked a little flushed along the cheeks as your warm skin pressed against his forehead reminds him of what his mom used to do, when he was little. You’re much more attractive for worrying about him. Not that he doesn’t think he’s mom was cute, he does, but you're one of the ones he wants to spend the rest of his life with, so it’s different. That was another conversation to be had later, but he’d been working a lot of extra hours lately for something special, something you and Keigo weren’t aware of just why he was doing it, but Keigo knew something was up, that golden boy didn’t miss a damn thing and he was pretty sure he was snooping around his room when he’d been out.

“I’m fine,” he told you seriously, the scowl on his lips made you slid up on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on at the edge of his lips, just to hear him give a low growl as he curled his arm around your back and claim your mouth for a proper kiss, swallowing down your laughter and loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Yeah this was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Alright, Alright,” You tell him as you break away. “So why the time off?” The two of you had resumed walking as he led you toward his car. “It’s a surprise,” he told her with a grin, watching your face morph into a pout at the fact that he wasn’t going to tell you. Dabi already slid into the driver's seat by the time you stepped off the curb after shooting a hurried text to Keigo asking him if he knew what the surprise was. His only response was a winking emoji face which only caused you to round on the car to the passenger seat with an irritated huff. You hated being out of the loop when the guys planned things without you. It was a great little bonding time for them as they loved to tease you over what you didn’t know. You got them back though in ways that neither would ever forget.

“Don’t pout Princess,” Dabi told you with a smirk as he shot you a glance as he backed out of the parking spot and began to head toward the apartment you all shared. He wouldn’t be the first to admit the relationship the three of you had was a little odd, roommates turned shared lovers was not something that could easily be explained, but you didn’t need any labels, there was no jealousy in your relationship and things were usually open and relaxed, but today was the exception, it had to be as the surprise was for you and he refused to tell you, he was stubborn like that.

You round on him as he stops at a red light, you’d been shooting a flurry of texts back and forth with Keigo, Dabi knew because he could see the way your thumbs were flying from his peripheral. He expected you to start pestering him with questions so when you didn’t, he let his teeth sink into his lower lip, scraping his teeth over his own lip piercing as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to fight with you, but the silent treatment was making him antsy. “Baby,” You ask him, as you lean over the console, your hand pressing the rest of your body toward him, this position gives you too much close contact with placing your lips so close to his ear. “Will you please tell me where we’re going?”

Touya shot you a glance with his bright blue eyes slamming to the light as he waited for it to turn green. It would turn green soon, he was sure of it. “Touya,” you ask softly, he can hear the smile in your voice as you know you’re about to get him to crack. His sigh of defeat is music to your ears as you lean back in your seat with a satisfied grin sliding along your lips. “So -” You start, letting the word drag on, as he rubs his free hand along the side of his neck where your breath had fanned over him, you did that on purpose you knew all his weak spots. “Where are we going?” you ask him again, waiting expectantly. There was no way your plan would fail you.

He had just turned into the parking lot of the apartment and pulled into one of the spots as he shut off the car and pulled his keys from the ignition. “Do you really want to know?” he asked you as he clicked the doors to unlock, he cast you a sideways glance, you didn’t catch the smirk that slid along his lips. “Yes!” You can’t help but exclaim as you throw up your hands as if that’s the most obvious answer. “We are going on a road trip,” he kept this voice as uninterested as possible as he got out of the car and closed the door, able to hear your scream of frustration before you had even opened your door. His laughter that you could hear as he walked away, should not have caused you to smile a little, you were supposed to be mad at him!

He wasn’t running from you, but his long strides were taking him further and further away from you. He let his fingers drag through Keigo’s hair as the other had been loading some bags into his SUV. You guys were taking his vehicle because it was going to be far more comfortable to ride in than his two door Mustang. “She’s all yours Hawkeye,” he told him. Keigo curled his fingers into his shirt and hauled his mouth down to his own for a quick kiss, not about to let him disappear that easily. Dabi let his fingers curl along his shoulder before he pushed away from him. “How pissed is she?” Keigo wondered his gaze darting to where you were still sitting in the passenger seat of the car. “Very,” Dabi told him with a chuckle before he disappeared into the apartment to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything and he had some extra things to pack up away from prying eyes.

Keigo watched you for a moment as you slammed the car door shut, only to stare for a moment at your bag on the floorboard and have to open the car door again to get it out, so your attempt at proving your point was lost. He chuckled to himself, his fingers dragging forward through his blonde locks to fix them, as he came over to you, your bag hanging between your fingers. He took your bag and slung it over his shoulder as he curled his arms around you from behind his chin resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled against your neck. “What’s wrong Songbird?” he asked softly, his voice low and soothing, but he already knew, he knew how much you hated not being in the loop.

“Keigo,” you mutter his name, a soft prayer on your lips as you let your body sink against his own, all solid muscle and comfort. “He’s such an asshole,” you grumble and you can feel the Blonde smirk against your neck as he tilts his head, a single golden eye raising to peer up at you. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he tells you with a chuckle, his fingers digging against your sides and he’s tickling you before you can even truly suck in a breath to comment on his obvious bullshit answer. You’re laughter is filling the apartment parking lot and can do nothing more than wiggling against him, attempting to break free, but it’s half hearted as he drags you back against his chest and after a few more moments of torturing you, he’s stopped with the dragging of his fingers into your sides and they instead stroke along your sides in a tender moment of domestic bliss.

“How was your Exam?” he asks gently, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. He won’t ever admit that he’s been a little left out given all the time Finals have taken up, but he understands; he’s just feeling lonely. Your fingers move to rest atop his much larger ones and you let your thumbs brush over his knuckles and he presses a kiss against your neck as he waits for your answer, his hip shifting to press against Dabi’s Mustang. “I think it went well, but just glad it’s over you know?” you told him and for a moment you let your head fall back against his chest. “Me too,” he can’t help but agree as he shifts your stance; he presses your back against the car as his mouth claims your own, his tongue sliding along your lower lip and your fingers tighten on his forearms as you feel his tongue enter your mouth.

Some time in between the lazy kisses between you two Touya had returned and he stood leaning over the open driver side door of Keigo’s SUV watching the two of you. Some of his friends wondered how his relationship revolved around two people, one of them another guy no less, some wondered how the three of you got along like you did, many wondered if jealousy would have played a role, the answer was no, not really. It might have been if Keigo wasn’t interested in him too. He knew how lucky he was. The love each of you felt for each other was equal, neither stood above the other as it should be. He might have continued to watch the two of you if it wasn’t for the fact, they did need to get on the road. He enjoyed watching the two of you. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease you two a little, better him than your damn nosy neighbors. You know the ones who had their opinions ready to pass out, no matter if you asked for it or not. He just didn’t like to share the two of you with anyone.

He whistled, the sound sharp and clear, one of those wolf whistles and Keigo knows it’s him and he’s also one of the more observant, so he’s very aware of the fact that he’s watching them. “Let’s put on a show for him, wadda ya say?” he murmured in your ear. Your low chuckle is the only answer he gets before your arms curl around his neck and press your lips against his own and he hooks his arms easily along your legs and your legs curl around his waist, but your breaking the kiss and resting your cheek on your arm that’s still curled along his neck over his shoulder as your gaze is on Touya’s lingering form.

You stick your tongue out at Dabi, aware by his scowl as his gaze sweeps the apartment lot, that he doesn’t like the fact that you two are being so chummy in public. He’s such a sucker for keeping you both safe, but his protective nature isn’t something that truly bothers either of you. “Do you know where we’re going?” you ask Keigo as he walks with you easily across the lot toward the car. “Not really, but he’s pretty tight-lipped about where, but he told me to take a few days off work about three weeks ago,” he told you honestly. “Wherever we’re going he wanted it to be a surprise,” he flashed Touya a bright grin as he stuck his tongue out at him as he took his time getting to the SUV. “This sort of adventure isn’t usually his thing, I’d wager this is for you,” he admitted to you softly.

Your fingers press against his shoulders as you lean back in his arms, feeling his other hand travel up higher on your back to accommodate your shift of weight without any sign of discomfort. Your men had no issues carrying you at all. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes fill with guilt and regret for getting so angry with him when Dabi had only been wanting to do something nice for you, to surprise you. He loosened his hold on you and you slid to the ground at the front of his vehicle. His fingers travel along your shoulder before he’s disappearing into the back of the car, your bag safely being stowed away. He’s giving you two a moment to clear the air before the trip. That didn’t mean he wasn’t being nosy about it, the blonde was leaning his elbows on the console from the back seat, his shoulders touching the front seats as he watched you move toward their dark haired Prince.

Touya frowned as you moved around the vehicle and ate up the distance toward him. He couldn’t see your face because the wind had blown your hair in front of your face, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, he caught the tremble of your lower lip. He sucked in a breath your name, a soft question on his lips, his blue eyes concerned. You slid your arms around his waist and he curled his arms around you without needing conscious thought. As your cheek presses against his chest, your ear over his heart listening to its rapid cadence. He can feel your fingers curl along the fabric of his shirt across his toned stomach. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad earlier.” He closes his eyes with a sigh as his arms tighten around you, before he places a soft kiss on your temple. “You know it’s no big deal,” he says gently, hoping to reassure you and when your hold only tightens, he knew he’d have to go another route to get you to see that it wasn’t a big deal. “I love riling you up,” he can’t help but tease with a sexy chuckle, his fingers traveling up and down your back in light scratching motions. “You’re cute when you're angry,” he can’t help but continue, feeling the way your body tenses against his own. As you shove against his chest and his hold only tightens on you as he claims your mouth with his own, his hand cupping your neck as he bends you back as he deepens the kiss and your fingers curl on the fabric of his jacket.

Keigo shifts his body till he’s half way on the console of the car, he’s just as bad as Touya with watching you both. “As hot as this is we should probably hit the road or we’ll never leave the apartment,” he calls out, as Dabi sets you back on your feet, his palm cupping your cheek, his fingers curling along your neck for a moment over your racing pulse. “I’ll give you a hint (Y/N), you’ve been there before and loved it,” Dabi told you before he directed you into the SUV, you were going to go around, but instead he directs you to the drivers side and you scoot over the console Keigo has vacated and slide into the passenger seat, you look down to see your sandals on the floorboard and you smile softly at the gesture as you change out of your shoes and slip on your comfy sandals and expose your painted toes as you lean back against the seat. “I think I’ll let this be a surprise,” you tell them both watching as Touya starts up the car and you lean your seat back a little more your arm stretching up over the head rest and Keigo laces his fingers with yours from the back and you other hand reaches over to across the console and Touya’s fingers curl with your own as he begins the start of your adventurous trip.

#mha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #dabi x keigo #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #bnha hawks #fall in love #Fall in Love Event #ajaviary #college au

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katfett · 3 years

Text

ROXANNE (MOD!HVITSERK X OFC)

A/N: Will have multiple parts. Essentially Vikings meets Sons of Anarchy. This just happened when I was trying to write to my other stuff.

HAVEN’T TAGGED ANYONE, IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A TAG-LIST, HOLLA AT ME.

Summary: Roxanne gets stood up at the altar, instead of a reception, her girlfriends take her bar hopping for beers, dancing and singing. She got more than she bargained for in the form of Hvitserk when they wind up in the bar of Lothbrok Auto, the clubhouse of the Vikings MC Mother Charter.

Warnings: Smut.

Tag List: @bloooferladyy

Music: There is a playlist I listened to while I wrote this, from the obvious ones to some weird ones just cause they help me focus.

Playlist found here.

CATCH UP: PART TWO PART THREE

***

PART I

Bar hopping hadn’t exactly been on her to do list. Heck, her to do list today consisted of getting married. It hadn’t been checked off. Roxanne had been embarrassed when she realized he had not shown up. Cold feet had been the excuse from his family. Yeah right.

“Come on Roxy, no dwelling on it,” Tatiana said, taking hold of Roxanne’s elbow. Her friend had been quick to act earlier when they had realized she wasn’t getting hitched. Her bridesmaids had promised her a night of bar hopping and karaoke.

That’s where Roxanne found herself, in some bar in a small country town, about to be dragged onto the stage to sing some terrible pop song. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she needed to be for this. Stage fright was such a bitch.

“Can we just go do shots at the bar?” Roxanne pleaded, trying to turn and book it to the bar. Tatiana wouldn’t let her go and she whined as Sally helped to turn her. Fiona helped them drag her up onto the stage, even as Roxanne protested the entire way. It probably looked hilarious to the people watching.

***

Hvitserk watched as Ivar lined up his shot. They were playing pool in the back, Ubbe was locked in a kiss with Torvi as Sigurd watched the game. He’d opted out, disliking the way Ivar always managed to beat him. Hvitserk turned and motioned for a sweet butt to hand him his beer. She did so. Hvitserk took in the main floor of the bar.

Ragnar’s place hadn’t changed much over the years, Bjorn had seen to that. Being born to the founding member of the Vikings MC had its perks. They were patched young; it was the only life they knew, and they embraced it wholeheartedly. It gave them time like this, where most of the other patched members kept their distance.

It was a little more packed than usual, they’d been celebrating Floki’s release and return to the fold so there were people mixed in with the club he didn’t know. The bar operated like any other, until you passed the bathrooms. The back corridor into the members rooms beyond was off limits to non-club folk. There usually wasn’t an issue with Whitehair usually acting as a bouncer back there.

He chugged most of his beer as he watched the stage, the karaoke thing had been his mother’s idea. It’d been dead most of the night, but he quirked an eyebrow as he watched three women pull another up onto the stage. They weren’t sweet butts, he knew them all, by name and cup size. He smirked as he watched the three brunettes shove a microphone into the blonde’s hand as they kept her in place.

“Hvitserk,” Ivar called, signaling it was his turn but Hvitserk waved him off, leaning against the railing that separated the pool tables from the main floor. He settled in, nodding as the sweet butt switched out his empty bottle for another one.

This was going to be good.

***

Roxanne growled at her friends. They were the best, and the worst. The microphone in her hands was awkward, she could just drop it, but she realized that would likely turn more attention on them. Her scrambling to get off the stage likely had been a sight. Tatiana had body blocked her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and dragging her back.

The three of them were pointing to the machine where the songs to select from were resting. Riley rolled her eyes. She looked at the songs - Teenage Dream by Katy Perry, fuck nope. I want it that way by backstreet boys, eh, fun but this bar didn’t seem like it would enjoy that. Her eyes scrolled across the next few songs and then her eyes lit up. Oh, that one.

Wild Thing by Tone Loc.

She smirked, if they were going to make her do this, she was going to get them back. Tatiana, who had a sixth sense for when Roxanne was going to fuck with their plans, reached out and hit a different song. Apparently, she’d been taking too long.

Gaping, offended and dramatic as fuck when drunk, Roxanne slapped her hand looking at her incredulously. The beat to Rihanna’s Rude Boy kicked in and Roxanne couldn’t help herself, her hips started moving with the beat. She was going to kill Tati for this. Her friends loved this song, Roxanne loved booty shaking to this song. Not singing it.

Tati wrapped herself around Roxanne and kissed her cheek before forcing her to move with her and Roxanne almost blushed at the whistles and catcalls as they moved in tandem. They had danced many a times to this. Grinding against one another wasn’t the embarrassing part, they had an audience. A bar full of guys in leather.

***

Hvitserk was grinning as he watched the four women grinding and singing, albeit a little terribly, to the song. This was far more entertaining than he’d thought. The blonde and one of the brunettes were grinding against one another. They got lost in the song, not even singing as they nearly put on a whole other show for the boys. The club members were cheering the four on. Hvitserk glanced across at Sigurd.

“Hey bro, you got the music lined up?” When Sigurd frowned at him, Hvitserk pointed to the four on the karaoke stage. “Who needs strippers when you can have drunk city girls.”

Sigurd laughed. Ivar rolled his eyes from where he was engaged in a conversation with Ubbe. “I think I can manage something.”

***

Okay, Roxanne had to admit she was having a blast. The song ended and so did the dancing - to a loud chorus of boos. Instead of the next karaoke song starting up though a heavy rock song filled the bar.

Roxanne grinned at the familiar beat. She loved this song, especially since it shared her name. Fuck it, it was meant to be her wedding night, she would’ve been having her first dance right about now. May as well dance like the single woman she was.

***

Hvitserk was hypnotized. He had been watching the blonde bump and grind to every stripper song he could pump Sigurd to play. She was shorter than her friends, her denim shorts fitting snugly, showing off the curve of her ass as she swung her hips. Her tank top was gaping at the sides, revealing a white lace bra. Long curly hair was damp and frizzy. Hvitserk wanted to bury his fingers into it as he rode her. The sweet butt at his side had gotten bored when he didn’t show her a hint of leaving with her to his rooms in back and turned her attention to Sigurd, joining him by the controls for the music.

Hvitserk finished off the last of his beer as the girls finally tired and started to climb from their stage. A few of the boys helped them down.

Hvitserk ducked under the railing, setting his empty bottle down and running a hand across his jaw as he watched the petite blonde move through the boys heading for the bar looking like she was on a mission. He grinned, perfect.

***

Roxanne leaned over the bar, the woman behind it nodded at her as she asked for water. She was buzzing. The combination of drinking and dancing was doing all the right things to make her happy.

“Hey Hvit,” the bartender greeted with a smile and Roxanne’s brows furrowed. The woman was looking behind her. Turning, Roxanne was taken back by the man standing incredibly close. Hot damn. He was a good head or so taller than her; he was fair, a little bit of stubble and a mop of dirty blonde hair braided back from his face, tied into a man bun at the back and the sides shaved. He had tattoos covering his neck and arms. He was staring at her and Roxanne was all too aware of his deep blue green eyes. It was intense. She didn’t know it was possible in real life for someone to fuck you with their eyes, but he seemed to be doing just that and Roxanne felt a shiver creep down her spine.

Hello hunky biker boy.

The telltale leather vest over his white shirt gave him away. Roxanne smiled at him, not saying a word, and turned back to grab the bottle of water on the bar. If her dancing hadn’t dehydrated her, he certainly had.

“You sure like to grind these hips.”

Another shiver crept along her as he spoke, his deep, raspy voice accented and showing through. It was the hand resting on said hips of Roxanne’s that got her attention; strong fingers dug gently into her hip as the other moved so he could lean against the bar and by default her, given she was standing between them.

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” she said and managed to dislodge him by grabbing her water and ducking under his arm. Tati and the girls were across the sea of bodies.

“Wanna give me a private one?”

Roxanne actually laughed as she took a sip, spraying water back into her bottle at the terrible pick-up line. She glanced at him over her shoulder. He was leaning casually against the bar, watching her. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

The challenge hung between them and the biker disarmed her by gracing her with a smile that was simultaneously cheeky and devilish. How did someone look so cute and dangerous at the same time?

“I think you’ll scream for me first,” he said calmly. Roxanne blushed; people could hear them. The bartender was smiling, trying to appear busy as some of the men around them laughed. She turned, determined to ignore the biker, and ducked into the sea of bodies. She didn’t get far. An arm wrapped around her elbow and she nearly dropped her drink only a hand caught it and then she was pulled back against a warm body.

He didn’t let go of her hand holding the water as he crowded behind her, grinding a little against her ass. Roxanne licked her lips. This was so not how she pictured tonight going.

“Come on, I dare you,” he whispered into her ear.

Hvitserk could feel the tremble in her hand as he spoke. He was loving every second of this. He’d been determined to, at the least get her name, and maybe a quickie in the bathroom but the challenge hanging between them made him want more. He could drag this out.

“I think I’m super drunk,” she mumbled, he grinned having only just caught it.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, his free hand dropping to her waist, slipping beneath her tank. Her skin was warm to touch, and so soft.

“Cause there is no way a hot biker is offering to fuck me senseless the same day I get stood up at the altar.”

He paused and glanced down at her with a quirked eyebrow as she turned her head to look at him a little. He could see the flush deepen in her cheeks. She was serious. He grinned and pried the water from her hand, someone took it from him, and he brought his hand up to tip her chin towards him.

“You got lucky, you didn’t marry an idiot then,” he muttered and then kissed her.

Roxanne whimpered into the kiss. Holy jeez. Her knees were weak from a kiss. She was drunk, very drunk apparently. Not enough to be blackout and not understand what was happening but with her lowered inhibitions she gave in far easier than rational, sober Roxanne would. Heck, sober Roxanne wouldn’t have even been here. His fingers ghosted along her jaw, the hand touching her bare skin at the waist of her shorts was drawing lazy circles across her flesh. The kiss itself was slow.

He didn’t seem to be in a hurry and Roxanne leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft, full, and tasted sweet. Her fingers curled into his leather vest just behind her hip. His hips ground into her, and Roxanne was sure that any man like this shouldn’t exist. His fingers massaged her neck and she moaned, moving in slow motion with him to the music pounding through the speakers. If this wasn’t get you in the mood to fuck music, Roxanne didn’t know what was.

She almost whined as his mouth broke away from hers, his eyes assessing her intently in the dim light.

“Please tell me there is a room somewhere,” she said. He grinned and nodded, loosening himself from her so he could steer her towards the bathroom hallway. Roxanne wasn’t a prude but the idea of fucking in a toilet stall was, well it wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

He didn’t turn into the bathrooms though, instead he led her deeper through the hall. Coming to a door with a large biker guarding it, Roxanne was surprised when the older man simply moved to the side without a word, just ducking his head in a nod as the biker guided her into another dimly lit corridor.

The door shut behind them and the music became a distant pound. He had his hand joined with hers and a little worried now they were alone, she clutched at it and stepped in close to him, letting him guide her through the hall, past a few rooms. One door was ajar, and Roxanne saw a man with a woman tied up in the strangest position.

At the end of the hall, he turned left to a door. He let go of her hand as he fished into the back pocket of his baggy blue jeans. Roxanne was really doing this. Tati hadn’t stopped her, and why the fuck would she? It was Roxanne’s night to just do whatever the heck she wanted, right?

The soft click of the lock in the silence brought her back to the moment and she glanced up as he looked at her over his shoulder. He was broad compare to her; he was also the total opposite to what she was usually attracted to. Maybe that was why drunk, heartbroken Roxanne was so keen to strip off and let him fuck her.

The door opened and he stepped to the side and motioned for her to step inside. Roxanne let out a soft breath and stepped through the doorway.

The room had a large bed against the opposite wall, the sheets were all messy. A few pieces of furniture were scattered about. A large flag of what she assumed was their biker iconography hung above the head of the bed. She was a little surprised when she noticed that the ceiling had a mirror over the bed. Interesting.

Roxanne turned to face the biker. She hadn’t even got his name. She assumed Hvit was a nickname, they usually gave themselves nicknames, right? He was leaning against the now shut door, tossing the keys onto the chest of drawers to his right.

“I’m Roxanne, by the way,” she said.

He grinned; he really needed to stop doing that. It was enough to make her belly giddy. “Like the song. Hvitserk.”

She nodded, softly testing his name out on her tongue. They stood in a heavy silence, the only sound the bass reverberating from the bar.

“So-“ she started, tapping the sides of her thighs.

“You’ve never done this.”

Roxanne paused, pursing her lips, and looked at the floor, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “A one night stand? No.”

He was smiling and suddenly all her drunken courage seeped out of her as she realized he wasn’t nearly as drunk as she was. “Take off your shirt.”

Roxanne blushed, the tank didn’t really cover much, she used it at the beach a lot, but she’d been hot in the summer night and just thrown it on as Tati had pushed her out the door of the hotel room.

She crossed her arms over and grabbed the ends. He didn’t move, just watched her. This was far more intense than if they were just sloppily going at each other. She tugged the tank up, sliding out of it and looking around for somewhere to toss it. There was a chair nearby. She chucked it over the back of it, then glanced at him.

For a moment she was kind of glad she hadn’t stripped off the white bra and underwear that matched because it made her boobs look incredible and she knew it.

***

Hvitserk had asked for a private show but his fingers itched to touch. Usually, he’d be balls deep in a sweet butt already. The dark grey tank was pulled off and he smirked. The white bra was expensive, this was what her husband would’ve been looking at if the fool hadn’t left her at the altar.

Her tanned skin stood out across the delicate white. He really wanted to touch.

Pushing himself off the door, Hvitserk shrugged out of his kutte and draped it over the back of the chair with her tank. She had her hands buried in the back pockets of her shorts as she watched him. She looked like an angel and he was about to make her fall.

***

Roxanne could feel her heart racing in her chest as Hvitserk laid his leather across the chair, he was careful with it. She smiled at the way he handled something so simple with such care.

“Come here.”

The soft order was direct and straight forward. Roxanne closed the distance between them and stood toe to toe with him. His hands sunk into her curls and she moaned softly as his fingers kneaded her head for a second. His mouth crushed hers, the slow kiss out in the bar was gone. He pulled her in close, holding her captive as he devoured her mouth, teeth biting at her lower lip.

Roxanne moaned into the kiss; it was incredible. When Mike had kissed her, it was usually sloppy. Her fingers found the end of his shirt and she dragged it up his belly, slipping her hands underneath. Hot, hard abs met her fingers, and she traced the sculpted six pack up to his pecs. One of his arms dropped to encircle her waist and drag her completely against him, crushing her hands between them as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Roxanne’s knees buckled as his tongue found hers. Jeez, this man knew exactly what he was doing with his mouth.

She dug her nails into his chest beneath his shirt, grinning as he hissed.

He pulled back just enough to reach over his head and tug his shirt off. Roxanne’s eyes took in the sight; underneath that baggy white shirt was a hard, tattooed body. His arms and shoulders were well defined and that delicious six pack dropped down into a deep v that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs which rested a little above his jeans.

Roxanne let out an appreciate breath. “I might have bitten off more than I can chew.”

He chuckled, those hands finding the curve of where her ass met her thighs and effortlessly lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around that trim waist as he peppered kisses along her jaw while taking the few steps to the bed. Instead of laying her back against it, he sat himself down, so she straddled him.

“Wanna dance for me?”

She thought back to her words out in the bar and groaned, dropping her head back as he chuckled. She had pretty much thrown the gauntlet down.

It was hot though; he wanted a private striptease.

Roxanne wasn’t used to drawn out foreplay. She was used to a rough blow job, Mike didn’t know how to pace himself and then he’d be on her like a horny teenager. He hadn’t changed in the four years they’d been together. Roxanne realized she had accepted it because she thought she’d been head over heels. Now, she had this hot biker asking her for a lap dance and realized that there was a lot she had been missing; like the way Hvitserk had stared at her in a room full of people like he wanted to drag her to the floor and thoroughly fuck her there.

“There’s no music in here,” she said, glancing round.

He smirked, leaning back on one hand, and shoving a hand into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. The glow of the phone light highlighted his handsome features.

How did she get so damn lucky on one of the most humiliating days of her lives? A hot biker had intentionally sought her out, turning her drunken partying to forget the misery of this morning into this. She had no doubt he could pull women in easily, the calm casualness of him was gravitating and women likely felt the same thing she did when he focused on them. He tapped away and Roxanne realized just how comfortable she was, half undressed sitting on his lap. Yeah, she snorted internally, she was definitely drunk.

A moment later, Ginuwine’s Pony started up. He looked at her from over his phone, the smallest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he locked his phone and tossed it to the floor.

Roxanne slowly peeled herself from his lap. He leaned in towards her as she slowly rolled her hips, resting his hands between his legs. Those eyes were so damn intense and made her feel like a fucking million dollars as she slowly ground to the beat. She turned away from him, her fingers unbuttoning her jean shorts. She shimmied her hips, leaning her ass back to him a little as the fabric slid down and then pooled at her feet.

***

Hvitserk watched as she pulled herself off his lap, he put his hands between his legs to keep them off. Her hips moved to the beat and his fingers itched to reach out. He didn’t though even as she turned away from him. That ass in his face, even clad in denim was giving him a hard on. She wasn’t his usual type, he was used to tall, leggy slim brunettes and yet, as she slid those shorts down, he swallowed as that firm ass was revealed. Fuck, he swore to himself. The thong matched the bra. He wanted to bite the globe of flesh that shimmied in front of him.

She straddled him, her ass pressing back into his crotch and Hvitserk moved his hands, reclining back on them as she grounded against his hard on. That curvy figure wriggled and ground so damn perfectly against him. Her legs were draped over his and Hvitserk spread his knees, spreading her own.

Fuck not touching. He leaned back further and reached round to grasp her throat, his hips grinding up into hers.

“Open your eyes,” he said as they ground against one another to the song.

***

Roxanne was loving the feel of him, loved the way he ground up into her, the way he gripped her throat gently. She did what he said and opened her eyes. The mirror. Fuck it was hot. She could see herself grinding against him, her legs spread over his as he watched them through the mirror as well, he smirked, that grip on her throat squeezing softly before it slid down over her chest.

Roxanne was a little discombobulated by the fact she was watching his every move above them. She moaned as his fingers grazed her nipple through the fabric of her bra, arching her chest into his hand.

His thumb rolled over the hardening bud as Roxanne writhed across him. The song forgotten as he started to touch her.

Her hands steadied herself by his hips on the bed. Her ass pushed back into his groin, where his hard on was becoming evident. She was swimming in a haze of alcohol and pleasure when he suddenly pinched her nipple and she squealed. He chuckled by her ear as she comically slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Like that?” Hvitserk inquired, his eyes still on the mirror above them. His hand moved up to where her hand covered her mouth, gently prying it off. “I wanna hear you. Pinch your nipples, Roxy.”

Roxanne swallowed thickly, her hands moving to her breasts. She whimpered as she rolled her thumbs across the sensitive buds, pinching like Hvitserk had done.

“Fuck,” she breathed as her eyes slid shut, her head finding purchase in the crook of his neck. A strong, rough hand settled on her knee as she continued to stroke and pinch her nipples. It was more erotic having him watch her do it to herself she found. The hand on her knee slid up along her thigh. Right to the top of her thigh.

He was going to win. She was not up to this challenge. He was too good at this. Roxanne’s belly was warm, liquid heat flooding her system as she touched herself with him watching her. His thumb drew idle circles across the top of her thigh.

Roxanne stopped grinding as she focused on her breasts, letting that delicious heat between her legs build. She hadn’t even gotten her underwear off and she was a mess atop him.

“Lean up,” he said. Roxanne did and felt his fingers undoing the clasp of her bra. The straps loosened and she rolled her shoulders with a grateful sigh. She pulled it off and threw it across the room. Large hands cupped her breasts and she moaned as his thumbs found her nipples and stroked and pinched as his lips brushed the back of her neck. Those hands were delicious. She covered them with her own, encouraging him. She was close, and he’d only been touching her nipples. Roxanne needed his hands elsewhere. She dragged one of his hands down her belly, shivering as his hand delved beneath her underwear without her needing to voice what she needed.

She gasped as his finger slid along her clit, then groaned when his fingers went further, sinking between her wet lips and thrusting into her. She murmured out a yes as he alternated between pumping into her and stroking her clit.

His teeth scraped across her shoulder. Roxanne was panting, legs trembling as he pinched her nipple and stroked her clit. With a curse, she crumpled. His legs trapped hers from closing as she came, twitching as she whimpered, trying to squeeze her legs shut.

***

She hadn’t screamed for him. Yet. He hadn’t expected her to orgasm so quick. How long had it been since she’d had a good fuck? A while by the way she was reacting to him. He loved the way her body shuddered against him as he brought her undone. He hadn’t gotten to see her face as she was facing away from him, her head leaning into his shoulder.

He slowly dragged his hand from her underwear. She collapsed back into his chest and he grinned. She was a cuddly little kitten post orgasm. He pressed a kiss to her temple as she came down.

“Wow,” she whispered. He chuckled, the deep rumble under her back shaking her a little.

After a moment, she slid off his lap to kneel between his legs. Her fingers went to his belt as she peered up at him from beneath her lashes. Fuck, she looked good like this.

Hvitserk leaned down, his fingers grabbing her chin and pulling her to him for a kiss. He stood, letting her shuffle back on her knees as he pushed her hands from his belt. He undid it and then his jeans were undone and dropping to the floor. He was hard, painfully so. Delicate, soft fingers tucked into the waistband of his briefs and then they were pulled down. His cock sprang free and he groaned softly at the release.

***

Roxanne was impressed. She glanced up at him from where she knelt. He had his head titled back, and she leaned in then, grabbing his thighs and pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss to the underside of his cock. He was hard and ready, but Roxanne was determined to give as good as she got from him. His grunt above her was rough as his cock twitched under her mouth. His head dropped forward to his chest and he was staring at her. Roxanne kept his eyes locked with hers as slowly licked up along the underside of him. There was a strangled noise from him, and Roxanne smirked at him as her fingers closed around the base of him.

Her grip firm but not intending to hurt, stroked along him, her thumb gliding over the weeping head. What surprise her was the sudden whimper from the man above her as she closed her mouth around the head of his cock, her tongue sweeping over it like she was trying a lollipop.

“Fuck.” Fingers buried into her hair as she slowly swallowed him; relaxing her throat to try and take him all in. Those fingers tightened on her hair as she hummed around his cock.

***

Hvitserk nearly wept as the hum in her throat caressed his cock. She was good. Fuck, he’d gotten head before, but this was so different. There was no hurry to it, no quick get him hard and then get him in her. No, Hvitserk was going to enjoy this. His legs trembled as she came off him, only to swallow him again, her teeth just gazing the underside of his cock.

He moaned, tightening his grip on her hair. He needed to thrust, he needed to move but he was trying to so desperately to let her set the pace of this, knowing he could hurt her if he was rough. Her tongue stroked him, and he whispered out another curse. He needed to fuck her, now.

***

Roxanne winced a little at the grip in her hair as she tried to sink back down on him. He held her in place as he pulled back and then he was dragging her to her feet. Roxanne moaned into the bruising kiss. He sought her hungrily, hands slipping to her hips, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her thong. He rolled the fabric down her hips all the while kissing her like a hungry predator.

She quickly toed off her booties and kicked them away as he let her underwear drop to the floor around her feet.

His hands found her ass and thigh and he was lifting her up. She gripped his neck and shoulder, her thighs tightening against his hips as he turned and rolled her beneath him onto the bed. He settled down over her and Roxanne sighed into the kiss, massaging the back of his neck as that slow and unhurried pace washed back over them.

His head bowed to her breasts; bruised, swollen lips found her nipple. She moaned, suddenly grabbing at the sheets under her as he slowly moved down her body, planting open mouthed kisses across her chest and belly. His tongue carved a hot path from her navel down. Looking down, Roxanne found the sight of a muscular, tattooed biker settling his head between her thighs erotic in a way she couldn’t place. She wasn’t used to getting head, Mike just didn’t like doing it, thought it was too difficult. Now she had a gorgeous man burying his face between her thighs like he was right at home.

***

She was tense, he could feel it in the way her thigh muscles bunched by his head. “Relax,” he murmured, turning to press his lips to her inner thigh. “Lay back.” He looked down the length of her body to her face. She looked hot; swollen pouty lips, flushed cheeks, and messy curls. She still looked uncertain but whatever internal debate she was having with herself, his words got through and she slowly relaxed back into the bed.

***

Roxanne stared at the mirror above them. Okay, she got why he had it. The sight of her, stretched out across the bed, clutching at the blankets with her thighs slung over Hvitserk’s shoulders as he nipped and sucked his way along her thigh was fucking hot. She could only see the back of his head and his back as his muscles flexed as he moved. She adored his back. One of his arms curled around her thigh and held her steady.

His mouth came to her clit and Roxanne’s hips bucked off the bed. She blushed as she watched his head twist to glance up to her face. She wouldn’t look; she would just keep her eyes on the mirror. His chuckle was sexy as he returned to her clit.

Roxanne moaned as his tongue slid along her. Fuck, he was good at this. She clutched hard at the sheets he slipped two fingers into her and she swore as her hips bucked into his mouth.

***

Hvitserk smirked against her, enjoying the way her thighs squeezed against his head. He held her thigh in place so she couldn’t run from him as his tongue circled her clit. Her hips bucked against him as he pumped his fingers into her, curling up against her. She was a hot mess above him, whimpering and moaning as he kept going. Her hand buried into his hair and Hvitserk grunted against her tug but didn’t stop. He was going to make her scream; he’d promised her she would, and he wasn’t going to fail on that.

***

“Fuck,” Roxanne breathed. The sight of herself completely at his mercy in the mirror was incredible. The licking of heat spread from her belly and out over her body. Her toes curled as Hvitserk sped up, guessing she was close. She gripped his hair tight and cried out as she came, her legs trembling and her hips rocking into him. He didn’t stop and she whimpered as he carried her through her orgasm.

She was shivering as he finally gave her a break, his mouth carving a hot, wet path across her belly. Her body was heavy; a combination of the alcohol in her system and the two orgasms were making her tired. He hadn’t even fucked her. Roxanne glanced down at him; he had his head resting against her belly. She scraped her nails against his scalp and grinned as he shivered before glancing up at her. He was so incredibly hot as he pulled back from her. She let him go, leaning up on her elbows as she watched him get up and reach for his jeans.

He had his back to her, and Roxanne was able to admire his ass as he rummaged through a back pocket. She leaned back on the bed, staring up at her reflection in the mirror. Her fingers absently trailed over her stomach as she listened to him rummaging around.

***

Hvitserk glanced at her, she was laying back, staring up at her reflection. He grinned; that mirror was the best damn thing he’d done to this room. Her legs were drawn up slightly and he watched her. She was breathtaking post orgasm, and he was a little surprised at how he couldn’t imagine the guy who’d stood her up and left her at the altar. How? Why?

He pulled the condom from out of his wallet and tossed them back down to the floor. The soft thud drew her attention. He grinned, holding up the packet. She blushed and he was taken back by the sweetness of her.

“I have a request,” she said into the quiet between them as he stood there.

“Oh? What would that be?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he stood profile to the bed, waiting for her to answer.

“Can you wear your vest?” It was a whisper. She was shy about asking. If only she knew just how many sweet butts demanded he leave it on while fucking them; it wasn’t that weird, most women got hot under the collar because of the kutte, the bad boy image that the club members projected. He’d experienced it since he’d been a prospect and the girls at high school had shown him the effect it had.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, and nodded. “Your wish, is my command.”

He grabbed his kutte as he came back to the bed, the condom packet between his teeth as he shrugged the leather back on.

***

He stood at the bottom of the bed, shrugging into the leather and she let out a shaky breath. It was so damn hot to see his bare inked skin against the black. He put his knee down onto the bed between her legs and his hands found her knees. He still had the condom packet between his teeth as he came down to her, his fingers smoothing along her thighs. He was still hard and ready to go.

She reached out and pulled the packet from between his lips as he got within reach. She opened it and tossed the packet aside as he knelt over her. She reached between them, her fingers closing around him. He hummed in the back of his throat as she stroked him slowly, enjoying the way his hips rocked into her hand. She rolled the condom onto him and kept hold of him. He watched her, his eyes hooded as she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him down to her. He was so gorgeous and for just a night, she got to be with him. She wouldn’t see him again, and so Roxanne committed every little detail she could to her memory and prayed she’d remember it when she was sober.

He came down and kissed her gently, his lips brushing across hers as he smoothed her hair back from her face and she smiled against him, releasing her grip as he sunk down into her. She moaned, her hips shifting to meet his as he pulled back a little. He stopped kissing her, his forehead resting against hers as he sunk back into her. He groaned, his head dropping to her neck. His hand held her hair gently as he kissed her throat, searing himself deep in her. Her hands slipped under the leather and found his back, digging in and holding him close.

Roxanne felt so good, loving the way he filled her. He ground his hips against her slowly.

“Fuck,” she breathed as he hit that deep spot in her that made her gasp. He didn’t lean away, using his elbow to support some of his weight as he kept up the slow pace and grinding. Roxanne was swimming. This was unreal.

***

Hvitserk was kissing her neck, his teeth nipping at her flesh as he ground against her. She felt so damn good. He didn’t usually go this slow but fuck if he wasn’t going to savour being balls deep in this messy, thoroughly fucked angel. He sought her neck out, his teeth leaving love bites across her tanned skin. She clung to him and for a second Hvitserk felt a pain in his chest. Fate was funny in the way it had pushed them into this and yet, it was only one night. They were two different people, worlds apart and nothing good could come from him dragging her into the life he and his family lived. He didn’t want to rush and let her go. He needed this. Her thighs clutched at his hips and he kept his grip on her hair. He didn’t want to let her go.

***

Roxanne was not use to slow sex. Mike had preferred finding the end as quick as he could, only concerned about getting off. This was incredible; Hvitserk was incredible. She slid her heel over his ass and dug into the firm flesh. He grunted as she raised her hips to meet him. His thrusts quickened as he buried himself in closer against her. Roxanne moaned as his leathers brushed against her nipples. She pushed him then, shoving his weight to the side and followed him. He grunted as his back hit the bed and he looked up at her as she threw her leg over his hips.

***

Hvitserk grinned up at her as she grabbed his kutte for purchase and sunk down onto him, her head dropping back as she moaned. His hands found her hips, helping her set a steady rhythm and he groaned, leaning back to watch the mirror above them. She was leaning back, giving him the best fucking view as she rode him. He groaned as she sunk down and then ground her hips. His fingers dug into her flesh as her speed quickened.

***

Roxanne bit her lip as she rode him; hands holding his leathers and bracing against his chest for purchase. He grunted and bucked his hips to meet hers, the frantic pace they were reaching a signal he was close to the finish. She leaned over him, her teeth biting at his lower lip. He returned the kiss, fighting her for dominance.

He sat up then, his arms sliding around her back and holding her to him. Roxanne leaned her head back as his teeth sunk into her throat, keeping hold of her as he took control. It was animalistic the way he suddenly gripped her, holding her throat in his teeth but not hard enough to hurt. Her hands buried into his hair, messing up his man bun and braids.

He groaned her name, long and deep suddenly and his movements became jerky as he came.

***

They collapsed backwards, Roxanne dislodging herself so she could sprawl out beside him, staring up at their reflections in the mirror. He was breathing raggedly and smiling. Roxanne grinned, leaning against his side. She bit his chest playfully and he hissed, chuckling.

He rolled away from her for a second, taking off the condom before coming back to her.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and made her look at him. “Are you okay?”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah, though I should probably go find Tati and the others. We need to head home.”

The smile slowly faded from that handsome face and she internally cringed, realizing she’d broken the spell clinging to them in here. “I’ll help you round them up.”

He surprised her when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead before he pulled away and climbed from the bed, pulling his vest off as he went to grab his briefs from the ground. Roxanne had to reason that she needed to break this, whatever it was, so she could go home, back to whatever was waiting for her there. She climbed from the bed and located her underwear, dressing quietly as he did.

***

Hvitserk found a packet of smokes on the chest of drawers by his keys and pulled one out, lighting it as he pulled his kutte back on. He could hear Roxanne dressing behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He wasn’t angry that she’d brought them back to reality. She was right, she needed to go back to her own life and the sooner she did it, the easier he figured it would be. He wasn’t used to this; the wanting someone to stay.

Margrethe, his only true serious relationship had been teen angst coupled with her being a sweet butt that knew how to play club members like a fiddle. She’d done a number on him, and Ubbe. Sigurd didn’t speak of it, but they all knew he still saw her when he ventured to the chapter in Florida where their mother had sent her to avoid the drama of the sons of Ragnar in fighting. Hvitserk didn’t miss her, he’d just never really trusted someone again.

Sweet butts tried to get close, but he kept them at arm’s length. He glanced over his shoulder at where Roxanne was shimmying into her jean shorts and felt something deep in him feel sick. She wasn’t what he had expected when he’d first seen her tonight, but jeez, he’d loved every second of it.

It was going to hurt watching her walk out of here.

***

Roxanne let him lead her back towards the bar. He stopped at each door, knocking and asking for the girls for her. Imagine her surprise when a blonde appeared in the doorway, sans everything but a pair of boxers as Sally and Fiona appeared behind him half naked. Biting her lip to stifle a smile, she watched as the blonde spoke to Hvitserk in a language Roxanne didn’t know. Hvitserk looked comfortable, not worried about the two barely clothed women as he spoke between smoking.

“Sorry ladies, guess the nights over,” the blonde said, pouting at her friends who giggled and they disappeared back into the room to get dressed.

Hvitserk glanced at her. “He’s my brother.” She nodded slowly.

“You two look nothing alike.”

He grinned and jerked his head down the corridor. “Come on.”

***

Hvitserk helped her find Tatiana. Her best friend had taken to helping the woman on the bar clean up some of the chaos about the bar. Sally and Fiona reappeared, clothed with Hvitserk’s brother and Tatiana gave her a wide smile as she saw them approach. She linked arms with Roxanne, giving her a raised eyebrow as she glanced at where Hvitserk was talking to the woman at the bar to organise a ride for them back into the city.

Roxanne whispered that she’d tell her back at the hotel.

Tatiana just smiled.

***

Hvitserk and his brother led the ladies outside. Roxanne was surprised to see a man sitting on a lunch bench out on the lot smoking. He didn’t speak to them. Hvitserk pulled out another smoke as they stood waiting in the cool night air for the taxi. Roxanne felt the chill and wrapped her arms around herself as she huddled with Tati while Sally and Fiona chatted up Sigurd, or so he’d introduced himself to her as.

She felt him behind her then and the warmth of his body drew her in; Roxanne leaned back into him a little. He talked causally to his brother over her head and she was reminded just how small she was compared to him. They didn’t touch each other, just stood as close as they could.

The taxi arrived way too quick. Sigurd helped Sally and Fiona into it, and Tatiana climbed in next. Roxanne’s feet didn’t move, suddenly anchored to the spot. This was it; this was goodbye. He hadn’t moved from behind her. His hand found her hip as he flicked the smoke he was finished with off nearby. Like inside when he’d followed her into the sea of bodies, he took her chin and made her look at him. His fingers ghosted over her jaw and she leaned into it, smiling weakly.

“You’re gonna be hard to forget,” he said softly and then kissed her. She pulled away first and nodded at him, letting out a shaky breath as she stepped towards the taxi. His hand stayed at her hip until she was out of his reach and then she was in the taxi. Sigurd shut the door for her.

“Wait, how are we paying you?” Tatiana asked suddenly to the driver and Roxanne smiled as it distracted her and pulled her attention away from Hvitserk standing outside, hands buried into pockets as Sigurd spoke to him.

“You’re not,” the driver replied. “I owe the club a favor. All things considered; this is a cake walk.”

Roxanne didn’t want to know; Sally and Fiona were talking. She’d gotten lost in her thoughts as the taxi pulled out of the lot and her heart sank a little as she glanced back to where Hvitserk had been standing to find him no longer there.

#hvitserk #vikings #smut #fanfiction #part one #vikings hvitserk #modern vikings #modern hvitserk #romance #biker hvitserk #Hvitserk x ofc #hvitserk x oc #alternate reality #hvit #Hvit try #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvietserk #fanfic #modern!hvitserk

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willsimpforazula · 3 years

Text

Sokkla Month Day 1: First Encounter

Earth King's Palace

Upper Ring

Ba Sing Se

If Sokka had to talk with another of Kuei's ministers one more time, he would not hesitate to kneecap said minister, diplomatic niceties be damned. Despite his status as a naval attache from the Southern Water Tribe and the son of the chief, the willfully ignorant (at least to him) officials could not look past the fact that he was from the 'basement of the world' as they put it and asked inane questions such as How cold does it get?Do you still live in igloos? Do you drink seal milk? Do you get vegetables down there?.

At least there was a free flow of drinks, he thought to himself. Granted, the Earth Kingdom's naval forces had not been it's strong suit, with the bulk of the budget going to the army and the national guard. Still, there were enough rivers and large bodies of water surrounding the kingdom that there had been some budget allocated to the navy, as small as it was. Thus, he was brought on as an advisor on how to work with the 'meager' resources they had in patrolling the multiple riverine approaches as well as their coastline, the reasoning being that given the Southern Water Tribe's distance from just about everyone plus their extensive coastlines, they surely would have the know how and experience in operating under such hostile conditions.

In addition, the crumbling reach of the Earth King had forced him to bring in outsiders from the various nations as advisors to perform the thankless task of foreign internal defence, as regional upstarts and rogue actors meant bad news as trade and commerce were threatened by such actors. Thus, while the Southern Water Tribe focused on their naval components, their Northern brethren dealt in High and Sub-Arctic operations whilst the Sisyphean Task of whipping the garrison of Ba Sing Se and its immediate surroundings fell to the United Republics and the Fire Nation. Through his contacts, he heard whispers of the national guard and special forces advisor, who was strangely a woman with a military pedigree that would put even the most battle-hardened veteran to shame. That she was of the same age made her all the more intriguing to him, not to mention her status as a royal. In fact, her insistence on being out in the field with the very men whom she was advising and training made her even more of an oddball even among the advisor community, who would very much like their air-conditioning and being waited on hand and foot.

Though he yearned for a chance to see who this mystery woman might be, he didn't realise said woman was just standing beside him.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what the hell we're doing trying to shore up this buffoon's power when all he cares is throwing parties and feeding his pet bear."

Not realising who it was, he replied "You're damn right.", knocking back the glass of sake in his hands. Turning to face his partner, he found a petite woman in heels, a red and gold dress with high slits up her thighs and an open back that revealed twin dragons of red and blue on each shoulder blade. Of course, he was but a red-blooded male and thus, his gaze was drawn to the teasing neckline that revealed as much as it covered.

"Ahem." she coughed. "My face is up here, not here. Surely they taught you basic manners in the tribe, no?"

Embarrassed, he turned his gaze up to find a pair of lively golden eyes framed by twin bangs staring back at him in mild annoyance.

"Sorry." he muttered weakly.

"I blame the retards at the embassy who made me wear this. Do you know how many creeps at this Agni-blasted gathering tried to get frisky with me?"

"I suppose you feel more at home in fatigues and a pair of combat boots out on patrol."

"And I suppose you'd rather be hunting down privateers in your corvette than endure some middling small talk with some old geezer who only got the job because his great-granddaddy was some high ranking swinging dick."

"A kindred spirit I see. Pleased to meet you. I don't believe we've met before."

"You don't say. Judging from your accent, you're from the Southern Water Tribe. Which means you're the naval advisor. You are Sokka, son of High Chieftain Hakoda, amirite?"

"Seems you know everything about me, but I know nothing of you. That's hardly fair."

"Boo hoo, cry me a river."

"You know, they say the special forces and national guard advisor is a woman who can beat the shit out a platoon single handedly and has a military pedigree that'll give any general a run for their money."

"Really now?" the woman replied, feigning surprise. "Tell me, what else do you know?" she asked, before sipping on her champagne.

"Rumour has it she's also a princess and a beautiful one at that."

"So it seems."

"Indeed."

"What if I told you said princess was at this very ball right now?"

"Last I heard, she wasn't due to be back from the field for another month."

"Well then, your source is very much mistaken." she tutted.

"Wait a minute…..you're Princess Azula aren't you?"

"Perhaps…." she teased.

Bowing low, he took her hand and feathered a kiss on it, before responding "It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Princess."

"Seems you do have a brain up there. I wonder what other surprises you can conjure up."

"Is it an invitation to what I think it is?"

"Ever so quick to jump headfirst into the gutter. Truly, you are a sailor through and through."

"That's not a no I'm hearing. Besides, think of it as strengthening ties between nations."

"I shall consider this proposition of yours." Grabbing a nearby pen, she wrote down an address on a napkin and handed it to him. "Come find me tomorrow evening and we can discuss this 'proposition' of yours. Do be punctual, I do not entertain tardiness." she replied, before bidding him a good night, her long ponytail swishing seductively like a siren as the scent of her lingered in the air like a phantom, cherries and wildflowers. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore her hips were swaying just a touch more as she disappeared into the crowd.

Carefully tucking the napkin in his breast pocket, Sokka knew deep down that this first encounter would definitely be the start of many more to come.

#sokkla #sokkla month #sokka x azula #politics #short story(?)#azula has twin dragon tats on her shoulders #idk i just do the type thing and words automagically appear #day 1

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years

Note

Fluff on MC taking Helena to a Ren Faire?

Trigger Warning: Reference to abuse

***

I smile at the memories that flood my mind as I slowly pulled Helena's old cloak out from of the back of the closet. The smell of wet earth and campfire fills my senses as I lay it out onto the bed, pulling out the light brown tunic that hung behind it next. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago - yet, just yesterday - since the last time we had worn them.

"Hm? What is all this for, My Love?" Helena says as she walks into the room, immediately tracing her fingers softly over the soft dark fabric of her cloak. A small smile of fondness reaches her mouth, and my heart can't help but swell.

"Sorry, babe. It's a surprise." I say. She beams at the last word and moves closer to me.

"I still remember the day you picked this out for me." She says warmly. "You looked at me like no one else ever had. You were the first person to ever truly see me, you know."

"Lucky me." I say with a smirk, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "Now, let's hurry up and get these on. Sophie will be here any minute."

She stares at me inquisitively for a moment and then hums, walking over to the bed as she takes the soft fabric into her hands. I can't help but stare as she begins to strip from her daily wear, and magically transforms into the woman who originally stole my breath away. The woman who didn't know her true worth, who battled her inner demons day after day until she finally found peace. She catches me staring and I blush. Her sapphire eyes turning hungry as she realizes the affect this is having on me.

"If you keep looking like that at me, my love, we will never make it to this mysterious surprise of yours." The promise in her tone makes me blush even harder and I quickly start changing into my tunic before I can change my mind, her eyes never leaving me until the last strap is fastened.

"Well.. let's get going. Sophie's downstairs." I say quickly.

I make it about half way to the door before Helena stops me - bringing me into a heated kiss as she wraps her arms around me. It takes everything in me not to immediately undress her, not to immediately take her right then and there, to write my love into her skin - but the joy I knew she was about to feel gives me the strength to finally pull away.

"As you wish, my love." She says with a laugh as she takes my hand is hers and leads us out of the apartment.

Sophie gives us a wide grin from inside of the car. She’s wearing the outfit Solaire gifted her for the wedding, and I can’t help but smile.

"You girls ready?" She asks as Helena and I get into the car.

"You bet!" I exclaim, unable to hold my excitement back any longer.

Helena simply hums as she leans into the back seat - always so completely content to sit back and watch the scenery of the world pass her by. Every so often her curiosity would get the best of her and she'd inquire about something interesting that she had never seen before, and I was always more than happy to answer her. The incredible growth she had gone through since coming to this world was one to be truly inspired by. She was finally beginning to see her worth, and I would spend the rest of my life making sure she felt it everyday. I can't help the extreme surge of excitement that passes through my body as we finally make it to our destination. This would be a day that Helena would certainly not forget.

"Are you ready, babe?" I ask as I turn to face her. She smiles at me fondly and nods.

"Always, my love. I would follow you anywhere."

I blush slightly at her affections, always disarmed with how she could turn a phrase. We exit the car and I take her hand in mine, eagerly leading her through the parking lot and towards the large wooded area in front of us. A giant wooden sign that read KING RICHARD'S FAIRE stood above the entry way.

"Helena. I have a feeling you're going to feel quite a bit at home in here." I give the woman at the gate our tickets and Helena's eye widen with a sort of awe inspiring joy.

"What... what is this place?" She asks barely above a whisper.

"This, babe, is a renaissance faire. It's basically the closest thing we have to your world... only without the magic, unfortunately." I take her arm in mine and start to lead her through the crowded faux cobble stone walk way.

"How incredible.. It literally could be taken directly out of the human realms." She says as she slowly takes in all of her surroundings. The smell of caramel apples and turkey legs fills the air as I lead her over towards the large shopping area.

"I figured we could look around for a bit before the jousting match begins." I say, stopping at a shop with a particularly large selection of beautiful hand made rings. The smooth wood and polished stones so carefully inlayed into each one, reminded me of my own ring. I smile as I run my fingers over it - the wood slightly worn now, but the feelings it invoked were just as strong as the first day Helena had slipped it on my finger.

"Come on, girl. I need a turkey leg, and now." Sophie says abruptly before running off towards the food vendors. I laugh as I'm sufficiently pulled from my day dreams and follow after her. The smells are delicious and thoroughly overwhelming to the senses. My mouth waters as we finally catch up to her, and I take Helena's arm in mine.

"What are you thinking, babe?" I ask her, squeezing her hand gently. I watch as her pensive eyes scan their way across the many fair delicacies, catching the glint in her eyes as they land on a vendor selling fresh meat pies.

"Do those not remind you of our first meal together, My Love? After we escaped?" She asks the words so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To escape her abuser - her literal demons - the woman who made her kneel until her knees were black. Even after all these years, her strength still astounded me. Blinking back a few tears, I give her a nod and begin to lead the way.

"Of course. I still remember that day like it was yesterday." I give her a warm smile as we take our place in line.

"It is amazing how detailed everyone's costume here is. You would not know they were not from my world." She takes a moment to scan the crowd and I do too -. My eyes immediately falling on a woman who's costume could only be described as epic. Her ashen skin so meticulously painted - brilliantly accented the silver and purple hues that intertwined through the complex braids that decorated her hair. The four arms she adorned moved with ease, remarkably realistic to the untrained eye. The sultry lines of her face only slightly obscured by a black lace veil that covers it. A beautiful red head stood next to her, dressed regal enough to be royalty - her arm tightly wrapped around the woman's waist. The love in their eyes was undeniable - unwavering - and I couldn't help but smile. They were chatting with a gorgeous dark haired woman - who looked entirely unenthused - emerald tips flowing down her shoulders, and a petite woman who stood next to her - wearing a scowl on her face, and the most flawlessly painted flowers I had ever seen put on a person's body.

"Their costumes are incredibly well done, no?" Helena asks, looking over at the same group of people.

"You could say that again, babe." I reply with a laugh, just in time for a set of silvered eyes to lock onto mine through the intricate designs of a thin veil. I can feel a slight blush rise to my cheeks as the woman smirks - giving me a small wink before turning back to her party. Helena catches the exchange and smiles.

"The woman has excellent taste, at least." She says fondly, and I feel the blush start to grow darker.

"A-anyways.. We should go find Sophie. The jousting tournament is about to begin." Helena gives me an inquisitive look, and I continue. "It's like a Knight’s sparring match. Complete with horses.”

She gives me a small hum and we make our back through the crowds. We find Sophie talking with a group of guys dressed like elves, each one of them completely enamored with her. I laugh to myself and wave her over to us before heading towards the other side of the fair ground. Helena's excitement only grows with each vendor we pass, with each specialty food that reminds her of home. It was heartwarming to me that she could still look back on that place with such fondness. A place that once held so much darkness and pain for her, so much hopelessness and death - Now could be a place of warmth. We didn't get to visit the others often, but Helena always treasured it when we did.

We get to the outside arena just in time for the show to begin. Everyone in the crowd had a flag to wave - blue for one knight, and red for the other. I buy Helena a red one before the three of us take our seats. The crowd around us, a sea of red flags, cheers as their opponent enters the arena, with loud boos and hisses as the Blue Knight takes their spot. The look in Helena's eyes is one of pure wonder and joy as the two knights begin their battle. Round after round until finally, much to the crowds dismay, the Red Knight falls. The Blue Knight, sits up proudly on his horse, with a smug smile on his face as he addresses the crowd.

"Your mighty knight hath fallen! Is there any just commoner that would like to avenge his death!? Anyone who will duel for his honor?"

His voice bellows across the crowd as they all remain quiet. I can see a small smile come to the corner of Helena's mouth, and had to laugh at what I can tell was about to take place. She gracefully stands, instantly demanding attention like the Goddess that she is.

"If you would do me the honor, dear Knight. I would love nothing more than to avenge his honor." Her voice is calm and collected as she steps down into the crowd, and onto the brown grass of the fair grounds.

"A-as you wish, my lady." The Blue Knight - obviously taken back by the fact this tall, blonde, seemingly harmless looking woman, wanted to duel him. "The weapon of choice today is the mighty sword. I hope you are ready, Miss."

The glint that comes to Helena's eyes almost stops the man from handing her the swords at all, not even aware of the damage she could do to him - even with a set of prop ones, such as these - Helena takes a moment to bow before they both take their stances. As soon as the starter gun goes off, all I can see if a blur of moonlit hair against the crushed night velvet of her cloak. Each flawless swing takes the Blue Knight by surprise. She's the most incredible thing I've ever seen - A cyclone of strength, and beauty - pain and healing. I watch as her cloak twirls one last time before the knight fall to his knees. The crowd erupts into applause as he raises his swords and then lays them down as a sign of defeat.

“You have won, My Lady. You have defeated me.” The man says as he plays the part and falls besides his swords.

Sophie and I can't help but to scream and cheer with the rest of the crowd as Helena rises - her silken hair falls back effortlessly against her shoulders, not a strand out of place, not a breath to catch. She was perfect - Outshining the sun as she stands ever so humbly in front of the crowd. A small smile on her face as she locks eyes with me. To the people in the crowd, what she did seemed to be a truly incredible feat, but they had no idea what Helena had already overcome in her life. How she faced and battled demons much bigger, and scarier than this, every day of her life - and just like today, with the warm sun shining behind her like a beacon - She triumphed. She’s risen each time a little less banged up than the last, and sometimes, like today, she rises as the great and powerful sorceress that she is, with a cool autumn breeze in her hair, and a warm smile on her face.

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #lovestruck helena #helena x mc #love and legends helena #helena klein #fluffy #fluff #sporadic sunday

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chemiste · 4 years

Text

Sweet Secrets

This is for my first writing night, using the flower prompt list I made.

“Ice plant/sun cup for writing night w Harry“

-to the anon that requested this, I hope this is what you were looking for!

“Hello Ladies and Gents! Tonight we have with us a very special guest, Mister Harry Styles!”

Emerging from the curtains, the superstar himself strutted out. He looked very fresh in a blue velvet 3 piece suit, his rings accenting the look perfectly.

After a quick handshake, the two men sat in their respective areas. James smiled eagerly, ready to get the show on the road.

“How are you doing old man? Kids alright?” Harry said, a slight chuckle in his voice.

James rolled his eyes, “They’re doing fine, you sod. Everything coming along for the third album? I’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna be the best one yet.”

The rockstar grinned, pulling on his lip to give him a moment while he collected his thoughts.

“Ah, well, here’s to hoping everyone thinks that.”

“You cheeky boy! So ‘humble’ am I right?” James asked the audience, doing quotes around the word ‘humble’.

“Alright, enough with the pleasantries, I’ve spoken to your team and they’ve agreed to a last minute game I like to call, Sweet Secrets!”

As the audience cheered, the curtain on the floor of the stage rose, showing a table filled with tiny deserts, ranging from brownies that bore the Late Late symbol, to pink and blue petit fours that had Harry’s Album covers painted on the tops.

The look on Harry’s face was pure terror and a bit of excitement. The singer made a quick glance to Jeff, his manager on the side of the stage who looked absolutely thrilled.

Okay, this may or may not be revenge for when H changed all of Jeff’s underwear to lingerie on the trip they took to Italy 2 weeks ago, but who was keeping score?

After a quick commercial, the lads were each sitting at the table, a small plate in front of them with a fork and knife set to the side.

“And we’re back! Harold and I are about to play a brand new game called Sweet Secrets!”

H made a big deal of laying his napkin in his lap, earning a few snickers from the crowd.

James continued, “The game is simple, you choose one of these delicious things in front of us and cut into it! Theres a small plastic ball inside that hold a slip of paper with a question! You can either answer the question, or eat the whole desert infant of you. Got it?”

The audience clapped and Harry nodded, slightly worried but also amused, this should be too bad. Right?

“Okay, Harry you can start.”

“Okay, hmm,” he glanced down at the options in front of him, deciding which treat would be the easiest to consume if he abstained the question inside. “How about this one?”

He plucked a strawberry cake pop from it’s holder, the HS embroidered into the fondant simmered under the studio lights and he moved it to his plate.

He cut into the pop and pull the little bobble out, taking the piece of paper out to read.

“Okay the question is, how many times have you skinny dipped?”

He laughed as a few girls screamed upon hearing the concept of him being naked, James as well in a fit of giggles.

“I guess, let see,” Harry counted the few moments on his fingers, going onto his second hand before stopping at a finger.

“Eight-ish? I used to go with a couple mates when we were ‘round 15 so I don’t know if I’ve done it in a while for the fear of my dick being plastered on the daily mail is terrifying enough.”

James went, going for a brownie, his question being, “Does your partner snore and if so, has it ever been so bad you’ve woken up?”

Needless to say, Corden ate the damn brownie.

The next question Harry had was a bit more, scandalous, it being, “Has someone ever bed so bad in bed you couldn’t get it up?” Thankfully the treat he had chosen was a small thing of jello, not too terrible.

“Okay, I’ve chosen the carrot cake, and my question is “which celebrity have you met that you wish to never see again?”

The audience roared at the question, egging James on to reveal his answer.

“I’m gonna go with Kevin Spacey, not that nice when I first met him and then all that stuff came out so…”

Harry and him going into their own childish tactics, pointing at each other while exclaiming “eh?” Before they broke into song, “let’s call the whole thing off!”

The two went through the game a few more times, Harry eating a rice cake, a slice of cake and 2 more cake pops. James ate the same amount, so easy to say the boys had had their fill of sugar.

James glanced over to the producer before turning back to the camera, “it seems we’re running out of time so Harry please chose your last desert. Fingers crossed it’s good enough to get my show on the 5 o’clock news!”

H smiled before taking a breath and picking up a petit four, the one with his first album cover on the top.

Harry scanned through the question, instantly dropping his hands and and tilting his head to look at the ceiling.

James snatched the paper out of his hands as the rockstar stood up out of his chair, groaning. The burly brit he used to call his friend laughed as he read the slip that cause Harry’s reaction.

“Ha ha ha! Oh boy H, you’ve really brought this on yourself! He pulled the only golden slip in the whole bunch, you know what this means!”

From off stage, a few techies rolled on another plate. This time the petit four seated before them was a real cake, an a big one at that.

Corden got up as well and stepped over to the bigger cake, “The question, for those of you wondering, is, what’s your biggest secret?!”

The audience’s reaction was instantaneous, claps and screams echoed through the studio.

Harry sat back down, in his chair slightly defeated. He made a move to grab his fork and knife, heading over to the big cake. Boos rang through the room, especially chants of “answer! answer! answer!” Soon enough the whole studio was saying it.

James raised his hands to slice the crowd, turning to his mate standing beside him.

“What’s it gonna be H? Easily let us in on your biggest secret, or…” the host gestured to the giant cake before them.

Harry held his face in his hands before holding up the fork and knife

…and placing it down on the table.

The audience cheered as he stood, front and center, ready to spill his biggest secret.

James started bouncing in side spot, equally as excited as the audience before them.

“My biggest secret is…”

“I’m engaged.”

Harry could’ve sworn a few light bulbs popped from the sound in the studio. The sound could probably be heard outside the building, maybe even a few blocks further.

James grabbed onto Harrys jacket and pulled the boy into a hug, the surprise on his face overwhelmed by the joy of hearing the news one of his closest friends was getting married.

The audience calmed slightly as James quickly lead Harry to the couch, hopefully to get the bride to be’s name.

“Harry! I can’t believe this! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, I’m very happy as well.”

The host shook his hands before planting them down on his lap as he had said on the couch with H.

“Who’s the girl? I didn’t even know you dating someone!”

The boy’s cheeks warmed a sweet pink, he rubbed the back of his neck, accidentally bringing forth a small chain that had a ring hanging on it.

Harry’s engagement ring.

“Well, we didn’t want the media breathing down our necks so we might’ve devised a plan to keep everyone on a different trail.”

“Do I know her? Have I met her?”

The singer chuckled, “Oh yeah, probably talked to her a bunch as well.”

James brow furrowed as he tried to go through anyone he’d talked to that could be associated with Harry in the past year or so.

Then it seemed like a lightbulb went off.

He looked up at Harry with a shocked expression, “No, wait, is it,” the host took a pause, waiting for Harry confirmation that it was okay to say the name.

With a glint in his eye he turned to a crewman off stage. “Can we please have Harry’s PA come to the couch?”

The audience chatted loudly amongst themselves, looking towards every person with a head set, wondering if they’d be the one to step up onto the stage.

Not detected yet, a girl with h/c hair cautiously approached James from his back. She wore black jeans, a slightly to large rolling stones t-shirt, a headset, and converse that had been colored in the rainbow along the edge.

She poked James in the shoulder, giving him a small wave when he turned around.

“Y/N! Congrats! I can’t believe you kept it under wraps so well.”

Y/N crossed over to Harry, sitting down next to him, a little finicky under the gaze of so many eyes.

Harry spoke up, “We thought this would be the best way to be able to stay close but not have to be nervous for anyone with a camera seeing us together, we kept the PDA to a zero in public but it was great to have that sense of safety the cover provided.

“No longer though, eh?” James grinned. Harry turned his head and smile softly at his fiancé, “Nope, no more hiding.”

That earn a round of applause from the audience, seemly in awe of the sweet couple before them.

James laughed, “You realize though that now every celebrity and PA are gonna be looked at as secret lovers from now right?”

“Oh, oops!”

#j'swritingnight #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles late late show #james corden

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toonqueen · 3 years

Text

Duckvember 2020

PART 1 OF 2

Part 2 is Here

Frenemy AND Paramour

This is my Negaverse Gladstone (Grimstone) and Nega Magica in my 87/Comics headcanon. SHELDRAKE is @cataradical 's and he’s a cool jerk. Wheee.

THERE IS CUSSING and dirty things said. It’s the Negaverse that's just what goes down there. PG-13ish?!

--------

Sheldrake was glad to have a very easy mission this time. It was planned to be the typical “act natural at a party, steal a thing, and then slip out” kind of job. And it was a solo mission; no coworkers to be annoyed with him (and vice versa). To top it off, he was actually invited to this shindig. Well, his paladin sect received the invite, but that meant he didn’t have to sneak in. With everything added up, it was practically a vacation!

What Shel expected to be a boring hunters’ gala was anything but. The leaders of different groups were trying to appeal to a modern, younger crowd. Instead of a stuffy meeting with the typical job fair flair, it was a real, honest to God party. A full bar! And dancers in cages! Sheldrake couldn't help but chuckle at how hard old fogey hunters were trying to get new blood. Crimey.

The paladin went to the bar and ordered a drink. He sat on a stool facing the crowd, keeping an eye out for his target.

"Well, hello there," a sultry voice greeted him. A tall redheaded duck leaned up against the bar beside him. She motioned to the bartender to get his attention. "I'll have what he's having."

Sheldrake wasn't caught off guard by the attractive duck's flirting. Despite his cursed energy that often drove others away or made them immediately dislike him, people that were intentionally and professionally deceptive could overcome it in an attempt to get something they wanted. Lord, it was a test, though.

The lady’s tight red dress and orange wavy locks were clearly up to no good. She was a literal red herring if Shel ever saw one. However, he played it cool.

"First hunter's gala?" He sipped his drink and gave the mystery woman a smile.

"Oh, I've been to a few--none quite like this though. Luckily I dressed for the occasion," she paused like she was turning a knob to up the seduction. She moved around, but kept looking back at Shel. "It would be even more exciting if I had one of those VIP passes I've heard others whisper so much about."

Sheldrake smirked. He knew this overtly sexy duck was trying to weasel her way to being a plus one on a special invite. However, he was curious as to why. "Yeah, it would be great to have one of those. But what is it even for? To join an exclusive party with more go-go dancers in cages?"

The redhead let out a giggle. A high pitched one, as if Sheldrake were just the funniest, most charming guy in the room. "I heard it was for a special auction. A bunch of rare items retrieved and uncovered by different hunters,” she replied. “My, I couldn't afford any of them, but I would love to look. Be some nice arm candy for a kind gentleman."

Sheldrake just chuckled before taking a sip of his drink. The lady hadn't touched hers yet. She watched him, slowly drawing her finger around the rim of the glass with a bewitching glow in her eyes.

Finally, Sheldrake said bluntly, "I'd give your performance a 9 out of 10. It might work on those first year hunters over there.” He waved vaguely to a group of younger bachelor-types chatting and laughing on the dance floor. “However, not quite buyin’ what you’re sellin’.”

The redhead shot them a quick look before turning back to Shel. "But they're not my type," she pouted. She leaned in a bit toward the paladin, and placed her hand over his on the bar. "I’d rather have someone more seasoned who can answer any questions I may have about the artifacts."

"Oh, I see, I see; switching gears, okay, okay. Stroke my ego first, then go for my intellect? If sex doesn't sell, then try brains? Gettin’ any warmer?" Sheldrake downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. "Well, this has been very amusing, and I wish you all the luck. Unfortunately, my VIP pass is just for me and doesn't allow a buddy. Boo dang hoo. Maybe try one of those light paladins in the white capes over to the left. They're way more sociable and have to travel in pairs." He gave another general hand wave… everywhere.

The redhead narrowed her dusky eyes. It was the first time she had shown any annoyance with Shel--ah, there it was, back to normal. The paladin slid off his stool, but before he could stand, the lady pressed her entire body flush against his side, beak in his head feathers..

Sheldrake expected a final desperate plea. Something to the effect of “I really need to see this event for my research,” or “please help me, I lost my own pass and my sect will be furious.”

Instead he got a low, unexpected voice. A familiar one that could be likened to Antonio Birderas' role in “Debate with a Vampire”, except if he were a white peking duck raised in suburbia with a twinge of a farmboy accent.

"Shel, I need to get into that auction to obtain a crucial item," Grimstone's voice whispered clearly out of this petite, curvy redheaded lady’s bill, "you have to give me your pass."

The paladin did not outwardly act surprised. He had 100% picked up the fact this woman was hiding something--more than the obvious. He did not expect, however, that Grimestone would be involved.

Shel hummed shortly. With a coy smile, he slid a hand around the redhead’s waist, whispered, "I didn't know you were so proficient in glamour spells."

"I'm not," Grimstone said, his voice reverting back to that soft, playful feminine tone, "my wife is one of the gentlemen servers."

"Oh, how cute," Sheldrake teased, pulling away from the duck.

"She doesn't like to be… flashy," Grimstone explained, a little defensive, looking over his luscious figure and tight-fitting dress.

"I get it, I get it. Taking one for the team, hm?" the paladin smirked as he sized Grimstone’s disguise up, "give my compliments to the caster, though.” He blew a kiss from his fingertips, as if praising a delicious gourmet meal. “Great job. Succulent, divine, mouthwateringly juicy."

Grimstone scowled, crossing his arms. "Sheldrake, the pass."

"Sorry. I have business here, too," the paladin disagreed, "why don't you try those frat boys I recommended earlier?”

"I’ve already tried. You were my last resort. Trust me, this is for the greater good," Grimstone explained.

Sheldrake put his hand to his chin, pretending he was thinking deeply. Grimstone and him had an interesting work relationship; they’d helped each other on several occasions in the past, but also had been on opposite sides a few times, too. Finally, after much consideration, he said casually, "Yeah, no. I'm sure you'll find another way."

Grimstone’s tiny manicured fingers curled into tight fists. "Is there somewhere private we could discuss this more openly?" he pressed.

"Man, this is a borderline orgy sex party. I'm sure there’s a room we can get for a half an hour," Sheldrake replied, then gave an obnoxious wink.

Grim rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this. People have been dipping out to the stairwell to smoke. We’ll talk there,” the disguised warlock suggested.

“Sure. Sure. I take it your high school prom wasn’t that exciting,” Sheldrake taunted.

Grim sighed and nodded to a waiter nearby before taking Sheldrake’s arm in his. “Let’s walk, then. Hopefully no one’s there at the moment,” he said. Despite the voice coming from the redhead being so playful and demure, Sheldrake could tell Grimstone was using his “I'm taking charge of this operation” tone.

Sheldrake would normally roll his eyes when Grim spoke to him so seriously, as if he were one of his many wild rugrats. However, he played along, swaying off side by side with this very attractive lady.

Once outside on the desolate stairwell, Grimstone exhaled heavily. "There is a magical person of interest I’m here to free, and it's of the utmost importance that I do.” He spoke in an unusual voice; neither his normal voice, or his disguise’s. Rather, a unique combination; feminine, but more husky. Kinda cute, actually.

"And you don't think what I'm doing here isn’t important, too?" Sheldrake replied, loosely crossing his arms.

"I really *do not* have time for this Shel. I’m handling a case where a school of children were transformed into inanimate objects, and I need to free this woman known as the Brunswick witch who specializes in these curses and can break it,," Grimstone explained. He glanced cautiously at the stairwell window.

"And I have an out of place artifact from a different universe I need to win--or steal, if I have to. I can't give you my pass," Sheldrake insisted. He was going to add a flirty comment, but quickly saw the short nod Grimstone gave in the window’s direction before looking back at him again.

Sheldrake sighed. "You're really going to fight me in a building full of hunters?” He leaned close, booping his beak against Grimstone’s. “*Really*, my guy?”

"I need the pass, Shel. You leave me no choice," Grimstone lamented, rolling his hands up his arms as if drawing back sleeves. Sheldrake expected a punch, but was instead tackled around the waist like a damn linebacker instead.

Sheldrake would’ve had the wind knocked out of him if he hit the ground like Grim intended. Instead, he wiggled his shoulder and pulled an arm free, grabbing his attacker. With expert ease, Sheldrake pinned Grim down on his back with one knee in a partial straddle.

Brushing loose bangs from his eyes, he looked down to see if Grim had slipped out of his glamour in the brief scuffle. Rather, Grimstone’s disguise was shifting, brows becoming thicker, body filling out, patches of feathers turning black.

Grimstone was trying to copy and transform into Sheldrake.

“Aw,” Sheldrake chortled at the struggling duck, “well, they do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Grimstone gave a distinctively annoyed “ugh” before ripping an arm free and grabbing Shel by the throat; however, he didn’t squeeze or attempt to choke him. "And I do often tell you to go fuck yourself."

"That… trying to be a badass line doesn't quite work in your position, buddy," Sheldrake added as he fought to keep Grimstone's hand down.

"I just have to,” Grimstone's voice dipped back down to his own before changing into one eerily similar to Sheldrake’s, "keep you talking."

"Hol-lee shit. Well, the glamour spell might’ve been the missus, but you're totally doing that all on your own. How quaint! I can't believe you've been holding out on me. I thought you told me *all* the tricks you could do," Sheldrake replied. Grimstone went to grab something, anything from Sheldrake’s pocket. “Oh, no, you don't! Don't get handsy with me."

"You didn’t have a problem with it before," Grimstone snarked at the comment. He continued flailing and clawing until Sheldrake eased back to elbow him in the beak. Just enough leverage for the warlock to free his second hand, grip Shel’s shoulder tight.

Grimstone snarled, twisting one of his leg's around Shel's until they switched positions, the paladin now pinned beneath the demonic duck.

"How is it that we're both expertly trained in hand to hand combat, but whenever we fight, it’s like we’re stupid little kids slapping each other on the playground during recess?" Grimstone grunted. He continued searching desperately for some personal item on Sheldrake while also trying to hold the speckled duck down. Shel managed to punch him in the jaw before Grim hooked his arm around Sheldrake's to pin it back above the paladin’s head.

"I just assume,” Sheldrake grunted, arm freed and throttling Grim, "I assume we don't really want to kill each other, so we do all this bullshit ass grabbing--"

The stairwell door abruptly and loudly opened. Both ducks stopped fighting, looking up with eyes comically bugging from their shocked faces.

A paladin recruit in their early twenties stared back at them, blinking. “Um…” he gaped.

Two almost identical dudes, possibly, maybe twins, with one wearing a sexy dress, wrestling on the stairwell.

“Look,” the recruit grumbled, raising a hand, "I'm not judging whatever fetish is going on here, but please do it somewhere more, uh, private? Some of us need to vape.” With a grumble, he left, shutting the door behind him.

"Well, shit," Sheldrake snorted. Grimstone sighed. The two relaxed and unwound, sitting side by side.

"We need to solve this. Now," Grimstone said firmly. Sheldrake watched as he stood, offering his hand to help the paladin up. "I don’t want to fight you, but I need to save those children."

Shel blinked then finally conceded with a big, exaggerated sigh. "Okay, okay.” He took Grim’s hand. “... Actually... I think I have an idea."

-----

The third floor of the hotel was unsettlingly quiet. There was a low murmur of voices coming from the auction room, barely audible outside the door.

"Grim! Grim!" the blonde duck whispered harshly as she walked up to Sheldrake. The male server uniform Magica wore was baggy when she was out of glamour. She fixed the bun in her hair as she said, "You have to be careful. I overheard a few disturbing things about the auction… I'm worried some of the items could hurt you. Maybe… maybe I should go instead."

"It's fine, it's fine. I know what I'm doing. Besides, I'm the only one who could get his voice right,” Sheldrake--Grimstone--replied. He smirked, a slight leer on his beak. “But how about a kiss for good luck anyway?"

Magica glanced around the hallway; with the coast clear, she leaned in to peck the corner of Grimstone’s beak. "Please, please, please do be careful," she pleaded.

Magica turned to leave, then stopped; turned back around quickly. She took Grimstone’s face in her hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. He could feel her tongue shyly stroke his for a second, hands affectionately squeezing his cheeks, caressing the corners of his beak.

The light witch broke the kiss when she heard a noise from down the hall. Luckily, they were still alone.

"I'm getting this foreboding feeling off you, Grim,” Magica said dubiously, “you sure you're full up on luck?" She let his face go and stepped back, slipping into the form of a masculine Borzoi waiter.

The “paladin” restrained an amused grin. "Really, I'm fine,” he reassured. “You do your job, and I'll do mine.” He winked, then entered the ballroom.

Magica took the stairwell at the end of the hall to the lobby downstairs, only to be greeted by Grimstone a second later. She looked up, eyes wide; it was Grimstone’s voice, undeniably, but he was still disguised as Sheldrake.

"Love, there’s been a change in plans," Grim stated.

With a blink and *poof*, Magica changed back to her normal form. "Who... what...? I thought I just spoke to you a second… You were that paladin, but... How?" She squeezed Grimstone’s shoulders, scanning his eyes and face closely.

"I’m disguised as the paladin I told you about, yes. He’s agreed to help us; we need to wait by the fire escape in case he needs emergency back-up should anything go wrong," Grimstone explained.

Slowly, color drained from Magica’s beak.

“What is it?” Grimstone asked, concerned.

"N-Nothing!” Magic squawked. How could she have been so easily deceived-- “I'll explain later. Let's go help your friend." She quickly disguised both herself and Grimstone as canine servers. "We'll just… act like we’re taking a smoke break in the back."

"Good, I was thinking the same.” Grimstone frowned and looked away. “And he's not my friend…” he trailed off.

"But we can trust him to help us, right?" Magica asked in her own voice.

"Eh, we can trust him, but not *trust* him," Grimstone said vaguely, “if you get what I mean.”

Magica rubbed her temples. "We're leaving this mission to a paladin *you don't fully trust*?"

"Oh, I don't know. I seem to remember doing the same thing a long time ago, and that worked out just fine," Grim said with a half smile, squeezing Magica’s shoulder.

"That's different! I was a lightbearer. I--" Magica was interrupted by the opening of a stairwell door above them.

Grim took Magica by the arm. "Let's go take that smoke break," he said quietly, guiding her down the hall.

------

#duckvember #duckvember 2020 #magica de spell #gladstone gander #magicstone #negaverse #morgana macawber #sheldrake

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pistolslinger · 3 years

Text

@dreamwaited: five times + caused utter chaos. ( very selectively accepting! )

i. it starts as a joke; swatting each other with rolled up wads of paper, acting innocent when the librarian glared over at them. eventually, some truly insufferable, pretentious little history student comes to give them a talk. as he folds his cashmere sweater vest - clad arms, prattles on with some sanctimonious speech that he has absolutely rehearsed, giving his best it’s wingardium levi OH sa, not levio SAH energy — jesper and flynn share a look. twin paper bullets hit the boy in the ear and forehead. jesper and flynn are banned from the library for two weeks.

ii. jesper has come to see madeleine the way most people view door - to - door salesmen. harmless, pleasant if engaged — but absurdly persistent. as he struggles to duck her advances and petitions to hang out together ( absolutely not — he knows what THAT will entail, and he’s keen to not go down that road again ), he spots flynn’s face in the nearby crowd. shooting repeated pleading looks, flashing SOS signals that were hard for anyone to miss, jesper feels utter relief when flynn starts to walk over . . . up until he announces ‘ hey — how’d the std check go? ’ ( it gets madeleine out of his hair for a good three months. but at what fucking cost? )

iii. they’re bored, and it’s barely three hours into the night — at a crisp ten o’clock, jesper is eyeing the door to exit. this is barely a party; he’s been to funerals more entertaining. just as he’s turning to tell flynn that there’s better clubs to be at, a fight breaks out. a cursory glance ( he’s nosy — sue him ) tells him that it’s an unfair fight. one shouting girl, and two boys? when he meets flynn’s eyes again, they’re in silent agreement. it’s a boring night, until it’s not — when they leave, nursing bruised knuckles and matching cuts, they’re grinning.

iv. jesper is so unbelievably sick of having to explain, over and over again, that he is trying his fucking best. stressed to a point of nausea, he’s just trying to meet deadlines this week, and this greasy little teaching assistant isn’t helping him with this condescending rant. but he needs this grade — he needs it desperately, and he’s not looking to piss off the ta, but he hears the words adhd? like the thing only kids have? and he has to bite his tongue before he starts cursing. luckily for him — someone else caught the words, too. jesper hears an audible thwap! followed by a surprised yelp. when he looks up, flynn is walking away, holding a book so tight in both hands, his knuckles are white. the ta is hunched, clutching the back of his head. oh.

v. somehow, monday night is what brings out the weirdos. they flock to all the bars and clubs to bemoan the fact it’s monday, that they have work in the morning — that they have families they hate, and jobs they don’t want to do. boo hoo, the world owes me fucking everything, why can’t i have it? wah wah waaaah. jesper comes to keep his friends company, and is instead stuck listening to the living definition of slime rant about his upcoming divorce. when flynn doesn’t respond to his finger snapping for another drink, he gets testy. what starts out as a rant about not tipping lazy bartenders turns into a loud, drunken, rage — and security walking over to escort the man out. when he leans over the counter to poke flynn’s chest with his dirty fingers, jesper decides that’s quite enough. he downs his shot, clears his throat — and slams the man’s head into the bar top.

#dreamwaited #theyre goofy together but after a certain point its like......thats my BRO #u know #brainrot campus gv #x. ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ( meme. )#wow this was meant to be short 😬

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

Text

Possibilities, Ch. 4

Rafael Barba x Lucy Huston

CW: language, smut, angst.

WC: 1654

Tags: @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @kscarlett1 @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @neely1177 @misssirenlove @lovesomerafipapi @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @mormonsinthepiazza @mrsrafaelbarba @lovebennycolon @germansarechill @skittle479 @gibbs274 @choppedgalaxynerd - anyone else just ask.

***

Shortly after her outburst in Rafael’s office, Liv apologized to Lucy and offered her old job back, but Lucy turned it down - the relationship had soured and was destroyed. There was no going back to what it was. What hurt Lucy most was not getting to say goodbye to Noah on her own terms. It was the start of summer when Lucy was able to find something new in the nanny-share: a new family in Brooklyn Heights from South Carolina with two young girls. It felt as if things were going back to normal. Little did Lucy know how wrong she was.

“Come for me,” Rafael growled against Lucy’s ear as he continued to pound upwards into her, his fingers gripping her hips tightly.

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from screaming. Blood filled her mouth as she shuddered against Rafael, her walls tightening against his cock in a vice like grip. Rafael quietly grunted against her shoulder as he came.

As they both came down, Rafael pulled Lucy’s face towards him with his index finger and thumb and kissed her deeply. Lucy sighed into the kiss, savoring the full feeling of his cock inside her. The kiss broke and Lucy carefully pulled off Rafael’s lap, and smoothed her skirt down. Rafael stood, removed the used condom and knotted it before tossing into the trash. He tucked himself back into his pants.

“Never did that before,” Rafael quipped as he straightened his tie.

“Well, I hardly see you, so sex in the office it is,” Lucy pouted as she covered the condom with other trash, burying it. Lucy approached Rafael once more and tugged on his suspenders.

“I know amoricita. Lo siento,” Rafael replied. “I should be free for dinner tonight.”

“I’m actually meeting some friends for drinks. You should come and finally meet the whole gang,” Lucy exclaimed. “They know all about you.”

“I don’t know...” Rafael began. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense!” Lucy replied, walking over to grab her purse. She slid the strap over her head so that the bag would lay cross against her. “It’ll be fun. They’ve been itching to meet you.”

Rafael furrowed his brows. “Okay.” He pulled Lucy close to him by her hands. “I’ll meet your friends.” He pecked her lips.

Lucy beamed. “I’ll text you the address!”

***

Rafael walked into the bar and could feel the music vibration in his cells. There was an incredible din of chatter and laughter. He pushed his way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Lucy. He spotted Lucy in a booth surrounded by a gaggle of women. He awkwardly waved hello.

“Rafi, you made it!” Lucy shouted, her face lighting up. She climbed out of the booth. Her footing was slightly wobbly, and Rafael grabbed her by the waist to steady her. Rafael cocked a brow and looked past her at the empty beer bottles on the table.

He opened mouth to say something, but Lucy pressed a kiss to his lips. “Everyone this is Rafael, Rafael this is everyone - Norah, Genesis and Eliana.”

“Nice to meet you all. Let me treat you to the next round,” Rafael offered, reaching into his wallet. A round of cheers exploded from the booth. As Rafael turned towards the bar, he wondered if they had enough scotch to last him through the evening.

Hours later, the crowd at the bar hadn’t thinned out all - somehow it became even more crowded, filled to the brim with the younger working crowd. Rafael was nursing a beer - the scotch on hand was in his opinion, swill. He nodded along to the story being told by- was it Genesis? No - Eliana - it didn’t matter. “Excuse me,” Rafael replied.

He made his way to the back of the bar, continuing down a congested hall towards the bathroom. The line to use the bathroom wrapped around the corner and moved at a snail’s pace. Rafael leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as he waited. He could hear the sound of the bathroom door creaking and what he heard next made him open his eyes.

“Can you believe Lucy is dating that guy? He’s so... old.”

“She said he was fun.”

“Fun? He’s old enough to be her father! She must have some serious daddy issues.”

“He’s kind of hot though.”

“This isn’t romance. It’s clearly a transaction since she lost her job.”

Rafael felt his stomach churn and immediately felt hot. The door shut and Rafael watched as two of Lucy’s friends walked out of the bathroom. He shifted, so his back was to them and set his focus on some blond in a cheap suit who was talking up another patron. Rafael looked at the time - the urge to use the bathroom was gone and he decided it was time to leave.

He made his way back to the booth and Lucy.

“Amor, I’ve been given an emergency hearing on Monday. I need to go home and prepare,” Rafael lied.

“Oh boo,” Lucy pouted. “Please stay.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m going to close out the tab.“

“I’m going to stay,” Lucy replied, glancing at her friends who were talking amongst themselves. “I’ll text you later.”

“Please - let me know when you get home. Be safe.” Rafael replied. Lucy moved to kiss him, but instead he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

***

Initially Rafael did in fact feel his age with Lucy when they first started dating. He wasn’t oblivious to the huge age gap between him and the petite brunette. Maybe it was Lucy’s vivaciousness and spirited attitude, but life felt less jaded and his senses weren’t benumbed anymore. After Liv stormed into his office, those warm feelings began to pull away - like when the ground is pulled as the water retreats. Instead he was filled with doubt and consternation. Hearing the comments from Lucy’s friends further cemented those feelings.

‘What if they are all correct?’ Rafael wondered as he walked into court for that morning’s proceedings. Rafael looked at the people milling about and he imagined the conversations they would have if they knew he was in a relationship with a woman half his age.

“If this doesn’t scream midlife crisis, then I don’t know what does?”

“Cradle-robbing perv.”

It was the beginning of summer; the start of when people went on leave at the ADA’s office. Rafael picked up the slack; at first it was a bad habit - but then he purposely began to push Lucy away. It was an easy enough excuse: work, work, work. Lucy knew what he did for a living. Lucy was no stranger to Rafael’s long hours, given her history with Liv and SVU.

Lucy could feel Rafael pulling away. It wasn’t immediately obvious but the threads that held their relationship together were starting to fray. It wasn’t just constant work, cancelled dates or clipped one-sided conversations - the tension was getting thick.

***

Rafael was sitting on the bed, leaning over to tie his shoes before work. Lucy sleepily sat up in bed and watched him as then moved to put his tie on. She bit her lip before she sat up fully and moved to be closer. She leaned against him to press a kiss to his cheek.

Rafael closed his eyes as Lucy pressed against him and placed kisses along his neck. She ran her hands down his shoulders to the front of his dress shirt. “Mmm you can take 5 minutes, can’t you?” she murmured against his ear before taking his lobe into his mouth and nibbled. “Maybe instead of lunch today, you can devour me?”

Rafael felt the heat in groin pool. As much as he wanted to, the comments from the bar popped into his head and he felt the bile in his stomach rise.

“Lucy, I can’t,” Rafael replied sharply.

“Okay,” Lucy replied defensively. “You don’t need to snap.”

“I’m sorry.” Rafael immediately felt guilty. He stood up and grabbed his suit jacket.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Rafael lied. “Why would you think anything is wrong?”

“Ever since…” Lucy began as she rolled out of bed, grabbing her jeans. “You’re not the same.”

“Since what?”

Lucy bounced as she tugged on her jeans. She dug into her pocket and took out a hair tie. “Since Liv! Things are different. I don’t see you anymore. You hardly respond to my calls or texts. I’m tired of having a relationship with your phone.”

“You knew what you signed up for when you got into this relationship,” Rafael tersely replied, grabbing his attaché.

“Are you kidding me?” Lucy questioned, as she slipped her tank top on. She couldn’t believe what Rafael was saying. Her heart ached and her stomach knotted up.

“I’m not. And if you’re not getting what you want, then maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore,” Rafael snapped.

“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore. I thought I was finally with someone who knew what they wanted - clearly that’s not you!” Lucy replied angrily. Tears threatened to fall and she chewed on her bottom lip.

Rafael wanted to spill the opposite - that he wanted to be with her - that life was better with her in it - that truth be told, he loved her. He shoved the feelings aside. He knew no one would truly accept them.

“I’ve got to go to court.”

The color from Lucy’s face drained and she stared at him in disbelief. Rafael fought the urge to apologize and sweep her into his arms. To further twist the knife, he continued. “I’ll make sure to have a messenger come by with any stuff you’ve left behind.”

“You’re an asshole,” Lucy shouted as he blew past her. Rafael inwardly winced as he shut the door, leaving Lucy behind.

TBC.

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