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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

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Dream SMP Recap (April 25/2021) - The Red Banquet

The day has finally come.

All the preparations have been completed. The invitations have been sent out. Everything has been leading up to this moment, and the Eggpire is ready to make their move.

It’s time for the Red Banquet.

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Captain Puffy

Badboyhalo

Antfrost

Eret

Skeppy

Ranboo

---

- Puffy walks around on the surface. Everything is prepared, the armor is where it should be. She hopes everything will go well.

- Everyone is dressed up for the occasion (except George). Hannah, Niki, Fundy, Eret, George and HBomb are all there.

- Bad says hello to Ponk in the Egg Room. Ponk tells him that no one has arrived yet. Antfrost greets them by the entrance and they go up the stairs to find Niki waiting.

- Puffy and the other guests soon enter the room as well. Antfrost points them towards a coat room where they can put all their items. Foolish arrives with the Rolexes. They drink some cider, head to the dance floor and play some tunes.

- Bad comes over and greets Puffy. Foolish informs Bad that he peed on the Egg. Sam also has a dumpy and HBomb has two of Fundy’s cocks.

- Antfrost goes off to speak with Ponk alone and check for some last guests. They watch as George arrives.

Ant: “He looks sort of lost, but that’s okay -- we welcome everybody here.”

Ponk: “Hold up...I don’t know...hmm. Hmm...”

Ant: “I mean, he looks harmless enough.”

Ponk: “We need to get a real good look at him first. Quickly.”

Ponk: “I don’t know what that’s about.”

Ant: “I don’t know. Well, we’ll just keep an eye on him.”

Ponk: “Yeah...”

- They then go speak to HBomb and Niki. H hasn’t stopped dancing

HBomb: “I’m doing my best impersonation of a white dad.”

...

Ant: “Did you guys notice that the guy over there -- George -- just sort of wandered in? He seems sort of lost.”

Ponk: “I feel like he’s hiding something.”

- From the walls, Ranboo in a shadowy outfit can be seen watching.

- HBomb is the DJ.

- Bad comes over to say that dinner is ready. Bad tells Puffy that they have shrimp cocktails and they all go to sit at the table. Some people are in jail and weren’t able to attend. Ponk cooked all the food.

- Bad welcomes the guests to give toasts to the meal.

First up is Foolish, who says that he hopes that after today, nobody has to say “turn a new leaf” or “let bygones be bygones” ever again. Everyone has come here in agreement in the hope of something new.

Next is Eret.

Eret: “As the monarch of the SMP, it’s awesome to be able to maybe see the SMP going back to being reunified again, and seeing all of us not have to worry about fighting each other on different sides. I hope this is a new chapter of the entire community as a whole. Cheers to that.”

Then Ponk steps up. Long ago, an old, wise man told him “People change like the tides in the ocean.” Now he truly knows they do.

Puffy steps forward. Bad and Antfrost, she considers as friends, and the Egg has separated them. She hopes this brings them all together and makes the server more peaceful.

George was asleep twenty minutes ago. He asks about the soup. Ponk says it’s made from organic, free-range beets.

Finally, Bad says he appreciates everyone coming. This is the perfect opportunity for everyone to come together and let bygones be bygones. To set aside past issues to grow and advance forward, even with the wrongs that have been done.

- He nods to Antfrost, who breaks a block behind them, revealing a button. Antfrost presses it.

Bad: “I was very, very happy that we were able to gather everybody here together for what is, I’m sure, going to be a banquet that none of us are ever going...to...forget.”

- Lava starts pouring down from the ceiling, walling them in.

Bad: “Yep. Prepare to die.”

- Everyone panics.

- Puffy tells Bad that she didn’t trust the Eggpire anyway, and planned for this. She removes the cover from the table and looks into the chest -- it’s empty.

- They watch as the Eggpire members all don the diamond armor that Puffy and Sam had prepared. Hannah says she had to do it, had to tell them. For the Egg.

- Sam says that he had another plan, because he didn’t trust the Eggpire. He’s tired of all this fighting, and it’s about time that they blow up the Egg for good this time.

- Sam flicks the TNT lever and the explosives rain down on the Egg. When they explode, though, the Egg turns into crying obsidian instead of getting destroyed, reverting back to normal Egg blocks after a few seconds.

- After Quackity’s attack, Bad and the others took preparations to make sure that the Egg wouldn’t be vulnerable to TNT anymore. Now, it’s time for the executions.

Bad: “You see, the Egg needs something, and it’s gonna get it from each of you. See, in order for the Egg to hatch, it needs energy. And it gets that energy by people dying near it. And that’s the role that you guys are gonna fill! We’re gonna kill you, one by one--”

Eret: “You’re a monster.”

Bad: “What’d you say, Eret?”

Eret: “You’re an absolute monster. How could you. We all trusted you, Bad!”

Ponk: “Trust! Okay, Eret. Keep talking. Keep talking about trust.”

Eret: “...That was a long time ago.”

- Bad says that Eret is the perfect person to sacrifice first! He leads Eret to a spot in front of the Egg lined with Netherite blocks.

- Foolish steps forward, saying he’s had enough. The Egg can shield itself against TNT, but can it withstand lightning?

- Nothing happens. Bad laughs.

Bad: “You really thought, Foolish? You thought you could enter the Egg’s domain and beat it in a battle of power? Come on...you’re in the Egg’s territory, Foolish.”

- The Egg is suppressing Foolish. Ant suggests they start with Foolish instead and take Eret’s life later.

- Puffy steps forward. She and Antfrost shout at each other. Puffy says she gave them chance after chance. Antfrost says that Puffy betrayed them first.

Ant: “Foolish, your own son, is about to be slaughtered because of you!”

Puffy: “I’m only one person!”

Foolish: “Puffy, Puffy, it’s okay, it’s not your fault--”

Puffy: “NO! It’s not alright!”

Ant: “Puffy, you could have stopped this if you had stayed with the Eggpire. But this is your fault.”

- Antfrost kills Foolish with a sword.

---

CANON DEATH: FOOLISH

Cause: Sacrificed by Antfrost to the Egg

---

- Everyone screams in horror. The Eggpire wonders who to kill next.

- Suddenly, Quackity shouts at them to stop and drops into the room. He tells Bad to calm down. He puts on diamond armor.

- Quackity tells them they’ve just killed a man, asking if this is what they wanted. Bad tells him that he’s doing all this for the Egg, for what the Egg can give them.

Quackity: “I’m telling you, Bad, you’re a pawn to power. You’re nobody, Bad. You’re working for something that, quite frankly, doesn’t even care about you. I mean look at the Egg, look at the Egg! Look at what it means! It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything, Bad. So how about...how about we just stop playing games.”

- As Quackity monologues, he subtly slips Puffy a Netherite axe, potion of strength and a golden apple.

- Bad can’t stop, or else he can’t get what he needs.

Bad: “Guess what, Quackity. If you wanted to stop us, you should’ve brought more than just yourself. You should’ve brought an army.”

Quackity: “Guess what, Bad? I did! I did. In fact, I brought the next best thing...I brought my biggest enemy!”

- Technoblade logs on and drops into the room, his hoard of dogs following.

- Not only that...Quackity also went looking across the lands for the best mercenary he could find. Purpled drops into the room as well.

Bad: “We HIRED you to take out Puffy, and you join the enemy’s side?!”

Purpled: “Bad, to be frank with you, Quackity just had the better price.”

- Techno explains that he didn’t want to work with Quackity, but the Egg is too great a danger to the server and it’s against everything he stands for.

- Suddenly, Puffy jumps forward with her axe, attacking Ant. The Eggpire is shocked that she has a weapon.

Puffy: “You’ve taken my kindness for weakness, Antfrost!”

---

CANON DEATH: ANTFROST

Cause: Killed by Puffy with an axe

---

- A fight breaks out. Bad shouts for the remaining Eggpire members to retreat. They run out. Quackity orders Purpled to go track them down.

- Bad leads the Eggpire out. They can regroup later. For now, they have to run. They have to split up. They can’t get caught, they have to stay safe and go as fast as they can.

- Alone, Bad thinks to himself.

Bad: “This is such a trainwreck. This whole plan...everything was for this moment! And it’s gone! They -- they have the Egg now...they have it. What can I do? I can’t do anything! I need to get out of here. I need resources...”

“Wait, I know where I can go. I know who I can see...but the Egg, the Egg is -- it’s in their possession right now. What can I do? What can I do against it? I can’t do anything, they have it! I needed the Egg, I needed...I needed what it was gonna give. It was gonna help me get what I wanted, but now they have it...they have it...I just...I just wanted what...I just wanted what it could give me.”

“I didn’t really -- I didn’t really want to hurt anybody. I just wanted what it could give me, but...I don’t know. Did I screw up? Am I in the wrong here? I don’t know...I just need to go. I need to get out of here.”

- Bad starts rowing away into the ocean.

- Quackity asks Sam what to do next. The Egg is invincible.

- Purpled lost them in the labyrinth. Sam says he’ll build a prison for the Egg if he has to. He wants to find a way to destroy it, but for now they need to lock it away where it can’t be accessed.

- Quackity makes sure everyone is alright. They then exit the room through the whole in the wall. Quackity tells Techno to come with him and Sam to talk. They leave the others to escape the rest of the way.

- They make it to the surface, relieved. HBomb hands them all soup to remember the event by.

- Puffy goes off on her own down the Prime Path. While she talks to herself, Ranboo walks down the path with potion particles coming off of him.

Puffy: “What did I do? What -- I...My son died! And I killed my best friend! I...I need to find Foolish. I...I don’t even know who I am anymore. The life I swore to protect, I didn’t at all, and then I took one myself! I don’t even...I...I can’t do this anymore. I just...can’t.”

- Eret mourns Foolish after the events of the Banquet. Foolish sacrificed his life for Eret, so at the very least he should be commemorated.

Eret: “I don’t even feel like I knew him that well...which makes things even harder. He’s helped me out with so many things, just from the kindness of his heart. He claimed to know me. He claimed to know a me which I don’t even remember... And he sacrificed himself for me.”

“At the very least, I need to commemorate his sacrifice, I...I should’ve been the one to die, not him.”

- Eret builds a Totem statue in his fortress.

RIP Foolish I’ll miss you, old friend.

- Eret builds a replica of the Egg in their museum.

- Ranboo logs on in his house. He decides to go around the main area today and fix some stuff. His inventory is quite empty, so he grabs stacks of grass blocks from a chest and heads out.

- He heads over to the main area and remarks that the server is beginning to look okay now that the Blood Vines are gone.

- He notices some posters for the Red Banquet.

Ranboo: “Oh, that was today! ...Cool!”

- He carries on and runs into Sam near the Community House. They exchange some steak. Sam says he’s collecting materials for the bank, as people need it now more than ever.

- Sam suggests Ranboo invest money and charge cash for his hotel. Ranboo points out that they already have currency in the form of emeralds and diamonds. Sam explains his waiver idea for the bank.

- Also, Sam needs to build a vault. People can come and rent a spot to lock away important items.

- Ranboo asks if you can lock away people in the vault. Sam says that’s what Pandora’s Vault is for already.

- Sam mentions that they’ll put the Egg in there. Ranboo asks what makes this different from regular storage. Sam says it’s more secure.

- Sam and his associates will be there day and night to actively defend everyone’s belongings. Ranboo asks how many guards Sam has under his command. Sam says quite a few.

- Why now? Sam says there’s no time like right now and quotes Oogway.

- Sam doesn’t plan on charging interest. He just wants to establish a better system of trade on the server.

- Ranboo explains to chat that he can use this system to make infinite money by trading emeralds and diamond armor.

- What if someone is, say, already quite rich on the server? Sam says the trade and the guard of supplies is most important.

- Ranboo asks how fragile the system would be. What would it take to bring it down?

- Sam says a whole nuke. Ranboo replies that he was thinking systematically. He asks how the Great Depression happened and Sam explains inflation and the circumstances for economic crises.

- Sam gives Ranboo a “prototype Sam dollar.” (One iron ingot)

- They go to Hannah’s house to steal and then find an anvil in the spider spawner to name the ingot “Smollar.” They go down the tunnel and Sam says that Ranboo shouldn’t go down to the Egg Room. It’s under quarantine.

- He’s planning on moving the Egg and asks if Ranboo heard what happened. Ranboo didn’t. Sam fills him in in the Egg Room. Ranboo is curious about the Egg turning into obsidian and picks up a piece of the Blood Vines, suggesting Sam do some experiments.

- They exit the Egg Room and find some strange llamas. Ranboo shoves a chest in Drip Llama.

- Ranboo, Sam, and Foolish breed a ton of llamas to begin the Industrial Revolution.

- Bad comes over and becomes one with the llamas to cope. Foolish turns into a L’manburg Llama and is promptly slaughtered by Ranboo.

- Ranboo, Bad and Foolish create a gigantic llama train.

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business opening

- Tommy’s plan

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream’s lore video

- The Banquet aftermath

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

4/19 - Nothing much happens.

4/20 - Nothing much happens.

4/21 - HBomb makes a diamond game, Jack plans to open a pub sidechain for his hotel business

4/22 - Tubbo shows Tommy how to make TNT cannons

4/23 - Puffy, Foolish, Hannah and Sam meet on Cloud Prime to discuss the Banquet, Ranboo’s Enderwalk Saga: “The Lessons”

4/24 - HBomb’s diamond game, George’s anniversary dream, Bad hands out invitations

4/25 - THE RED BANQUET.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #the red banquet

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winterscaptain · 3 years

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pretty/drunk

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this doesn’t have any gendered pronouns, but some of the content was fairly fem-coded and i didn’t want anyone to experience anything triggering/unpleasant, so i tagged it fem. all my gals, gays, hes, and theys can be pretty and wear fancy underwear!! (i can always adapt a super super gender neutral version if anyone wants it! or hell, even male-coded. we’re inclusive in this house!) also my smut taglist is...not updated. yikes.

words: 2.5k warnings: alcohol use, drunk!aaron, smut (oral w/reader receiving, penetrative sex, creampie)

summary: “compliments cost nothing, yet many pay dear for them.” - thomas fuller

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

“You’re so pretty,” Aaron says, his words only slurring a little. He’s followed you into the bathroom at Will and JJ’s like a lost puppy and can’t keep his hands to himself.

You laugh, pulling his arms further around you. “Aaron, honey, you’re really drunk.”

His brow crinkles. You can see it in the mirror. “Do I… not tell you you’re pretty when I’m not drunk? Because I should do that.”

“No,” you assure him with a pat to the back of his hand. “You do, but you have less of an agenda when you’re sober.”

He laughs in that delightful little way he does when he’s drunk and he knows he’s been caught. “That’s not true. I always have an agenda.”

As if to make his point, his mouth drops to your neck, finding that spot that makes you sigh. You can feel your heartbeat in your bits at this point, but you won’t give him the satisfaction.

You turn, holding his face in your hands. His eyes are only a little glassy - he’s playing it up because he knows it makes you laugh. “You’re not very subtle, sweetheart.”

“But you’re so pretty,” he grumbles, tucking his face into your neck again.

“Okay, love. Let’s go. C’mon.”

You eventually get him back down the hallway and into the living room.

Emily smirks at you, but you only roll your eyes and shake your head.

Don’t be ridiculous.

She shrugs. Not the first time it woulda happened.

Fair point, your eyebrows say. She laughs.

Jack’s running soccer drills with Henry in the backyard - still full of energy despite the ridiculously late hour - and JJ’s offered to have the boys over at her place tonight.

“You’re sure?”

“Pfft, absolutely. What’s one more? Jack’s easy.”

You laugh lightly. “Can’t argue with that.”

“And,” she adds, “I figure you guys could use the night. You know, sober up and stuff.”

Squinting at her, you say, “I’m not drinking tonight.”

“Just sayin’.”

With a roll of your eyes, you take Aaron by the elbow and lead him out the door and into the car. He’s terribly floppy when he’s just passed buzzed, but you know he’d never get drunk enough to actually make you babysit him.

He’d explained it to you once.

“Sweetheart, I’m not in my twenties anymore so wicked hangovers are an inevitability. And it’s inconsiderate.”

+++

He’s particularly handsy as you walk up to the apartment, impeding your forward momentum as he drags you back against him, grinding playfully against you at every opportunity.

“Aaron, quit!” You whisper-shout at him, mindful of your neighbors. It’s much later than your usual arrival time and you’re actually aware of the sleepy nature of the suburban apartment complex on a Saturday night.

You finally let yourself into the apartment and lock the door behind you, setting the alarm as soon as you take your shoes off.

Aaron’s leisure is apparent - he’s taking his time with his winter trappings (though you’re pretty sure he’d trip if he went at his normal pace). You watch him methodically place his shoes into the rack and hang his coat, brushing imagined debris off the sleeve.

When he’s done, he turns back to you with a look he might think is smooth. Really, he just looks rather undone.

Delightfully undone.

You sigh and cross the room, pulling his lips to yours and winding your fingers in his hair. He moans into your mouth and you’re violently reminded of the other perk of an inebriated Aaron: while already vocal, his lowered inhibitions increase his volume in… almost every situation.

“Come to bed, baby,” you whisper against him.

You can feel his smile. “Okay.”

Taking him by the hand, you drag him to your bedroom and close the door behind you out of habit.

He presses you against the wall, his hands wandering down your ribs, your hips, your ass, up your shirt as his searing kisses poke holes in your desire to sleep.

You pull back, your head against the wall. “I have something for you. Wanna see?”

His eyes are firmly stuck on your mouth, but he nods.

“Wait for me. I’ll be right back.”

With a wolfish grin, he steps back (carefully) and starts to undo his belt buckle. As nice a visual as that is, you know you have a limited window before he crashes.

Drunk Aaron often means Sleepy Aaron. If your estimation is right - you have about ten minutes.

Slipping into the bathroom, you dig around in your side of the cabinet until you find the little bag you’ve been hiding. It’s lingerie you bought last year on his birthday, but hadn’t had the occasion to show him - between cases and Jack, there was never an opportune time.

You change somewhat leisurely, giving yourself the time to get really worked up, thinking about the way Aaron’s hands and mouth feel on every square inch of your skin. When you’re well and truly warm, you open the door -

And find Aaron completely zonked, naked, halfway-under the turned-down covers.

Looks like it was more like five minutes.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. He’s adorable with his face all squished into the pillow, curled toward your side of the bed.

You strip, leaving the treats back under the cabinet, and slip under the covers wearing nothing at all.

+++

You’re sure you’re having the best sex dream of your life. Getting all worked up before bed often had its own consequences, but you find yourself waking before you can really grab onto the feeling.

A bit frustrated, you rouse yourself and realize Aaron grinding against you isn’t part of your dream. You reach back, tangling your fingers in his hair - not enough to pull, but enough to let him know you’re awake.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

You let out a shaky breath and arch your back, sending your ass right into him. He groans and you feel his hand wander from your abdomen to your center, aching and soaked all the way to your thighs.

His talented fingers wander over your heated skin, circling your clit and dipping into you but not enough. You wiggle against him impatiently, but he shushes you, laving your neck and shoulder with languid, wet kisses that leave you squirming.

Your eyes flutter shut as he ducks under the covers, his kisses traveling down the curve of your spine, to your waist. You squeak when his teeth sink into the soft skin above your hip, immediately soothed with his tongue. Letting him lead, you wait until his fingers wrap around your knee before you swing your leg over his head.

His pleased hum is audible and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heel slides up his shoulder in your attempt to get him where you want him, but you can feel the muscles of his back ripple as he resists you, pillowing his head on your thigh.

Aaron presses kisses to the crease of your thigh until you’re well and truly squirming.

He lets out a drawn-out moan as his tongue makes contact with your slit and you swear he drinks from you before sloppily licking and mouthing his way to your clit, rolling the little nub on his tongue.

“Perfect,” he whispers against you, wrapping his lips around you and sucking for a moment before taking one long pass from stem to stern with the flat of his tongue.

You whimper, pressing the back of one hand to your mouth while the other tangles in his hair, holding him in place.

He lifts, even against the pressure of your hand, and looks up at you, his nose, mouth, and chin glistening in the low light. “Nobody’s home, baby.” He drops a kiss to your clit. “Let me hear you.”

You keep your eyes on his as he positively devours you. After what seems like forever, he drops his gaze, giving you a breathtaking view of his long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone.

His arms slide over your lower back, wrapping around you to hold you steady as he rocks his face into you. It’s sloppy, loud, and immaculate.

Closing your eyes and relaxing everything you can, you focus entirely on the sensation of his tongue against your clit, the way the whole lower half of his face burrows as far into you as he can get, ever seeking something more, somewhere closer.

Your walls flutter on their own, pushed to the brink by his ministrations. Your hips buck a little and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in a huff.

“Fuck, Aaron. You’re so good.”

“Mhmm.” His hum doesn’t leave your skin, but he still sounds way too full of himself. When you yank on his hair in light admonishment for his own self-awareness, he lets out another groan from deep in his chest.

It rumbles through you, all the way to your bones. You can’t help but shudder again and his arms tighten around you.

You can feel his muscles pull and flex under your calf as he chases friction, grinding into the sheets. His expression belies none of it - there’s not a grain of tension in his forehead, his eyebrows sit relaxed when they’re not pulled together in surprise or pleasure.

One of his arms slides out from under you, running his fingers over your thigh before lifting his mouth from you. He wets his fingers, pulling them slowly from his lips and dropping them to tease your entrance.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, meeting your eyes.

You give in.

“Please.”

With a smirk, he runs his fingers from your bundle of nerves to your slit, slipping them inside you with unbearable lack of haste. You wiggle against him and he relents, diving back into you with more than enthusiasm.

Your voice is somewhere between a gasp and a whine. “Aaron, you’re gonna make me come.” You twist, but his arms hold you fast as you curl into your pillow.

He doesn’t falter for a second, going down on you like it’s his favorite thing to do (it is, actually) until you’re overcome, shaking and overwrought with pleasure. His gentle guidance through your peak only prolongs it, sweetening the pleasure until it hums through your body.

Finding his way back to you, he takes the same route he took on his way down, kissing his way to your knee, taking your leg back over his head, and wandering up your back with his lips and tongue.

He settles behind you again and wraps you in his arms, pressing kisses to your neck.

You turn your head and he meets your lips with his own. It’s an awkward angle, sure, but sex by definition is awkward - what’s one more element?

You kiss the taste of yourself off of him, his little pleased noises only egging you on. Impatiently, you reach behind you and wrap your hand around his cock, stroking just the way he likes it (with a twist of your wrist at the tip) until he stops you with a hand over yours.

“Either I come inside you or not at all.”

With a little laugh, you release him. “By all means, darling. Be my guest.”

Aaron’s got a stupid little smile on his face you can only see half of, but you make it clear you have no intention of moving, arching your back again to give him more access.

Positioning himself between your thighs, he runs his cock over your heated flesh, between your lips, still sensitive from your orgasm. You relax into him with a shaky exhale, rocking back and seeking friction.

His breath is hot at your ear as he eases into you, the angle from this position new and tight. You move with him, meeting him inch for inch as he slowly gives you more and more with each thrust.

He brings his hand to your waist and you can feel him trembling. You bring your knees closer to your chest and he shifts so the top of his thighs are flush with the back of yours.

You whimper as he finds that place inside you, and hits it over and over and over with alarming consistency. He’s bottoming out with every thrust and you’re seeing stars.

The arm underneath him snakes under your pillow and around your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your chest. The arm at your waist sneaks down to your clit and you do him a favor - lifting your knee as close to your shoulder as you can get it.

He loops his arm around your thigh, holding you open for him, while he drowns his fingers in his handiwork from before. It’s been almost two years and he's mastered that angle on your clit - the one that has you nearly in tears within seconds, gasping little sobs leaving you as you’re once again pushed to the breaking point.

“Harder,” you tell him. “More.”

His lips glued to the slope between your neck and shoulder, he pounds into you faster, harder, the sound of his hips snapping to yours filling the bedroom.

Your orgasm crests over you all at once and you can’t even thrash as your vision whites out and your legs violently shake - his hold on you is tight and all-consuming. He well-and-truly fucks you, chasing his pleasure while riding you through yours.

He gasps and you know he’s close. You bring your hand behind you to his hair again and hold him to you, the softness of his ungelled hair grounding you as the rest of your body continues to alight with sensation.

“Fuck, I’m -” His brief warning is rough, breathless, and relentlessly hot. You look in front of you, seemingly for the first time, and realize your mirrored closet doors are right there.

Your mouth drops open as you watch Aaron drive into you, deep, and unlatch from your neck, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth open, a groan leaving him. You can feel him inside you, warm and full, as he releases, his hips barely leaving yours as he shallowly ruts into you.

You can’t tear your eyes from his reflection. He’s beautiful - perfectly undone and entirely blissed out. You clench and flex, milking everything you can from him until his body seems to melt into yours, the tension drawing out of his fingers, arms, then finally his brow.

He hooks his chin over your shoulder, laying his cheek against yours. A low hum leaves him and a content smile curls at his lips.

Yours matches, and you lace your fingers through his, pulling his arms tighter around you. “Did you tick off all your agenda items?”

His eyes remain close as he answers with a little nod. “Mhmm.”

“Are you still a little drunk?”

“Hmm…” He actually thinks about his answer for a second. “Only a little. Mostly wanted to make you laugh.”

You’ll have to go clean up eventually, but he snuggles impossibly closer, still inside you as he softens, and kisses your cheek, sweet and chaste.

“You’re so pretty.”

tagging: @quillvine @stxrrywildflower @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pinkdiamond1016 @aaronhotchnerr @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @ssa-morgan @violet-amxthyst @capricorngf @pan-pride-12 @mandylove1000 @joanofarkansass @cevanswhre @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @mandylove1000 @jeor @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @winqhster @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @crazyshannonigans @ceceguajardo-blog @deagibs

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic #aaron hotchner smut

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Make me

*gif is not mine*

The donut series - Part 8

Note - Idk wtf this is... Lol! Hopefully I can complete this series before the year ends. Just 2 or 3 more parts now.

Thank you so so much to @firefly-graphics for the cute dividers💖💖

Summary - You move into the tower with Steve.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut (m/f), soft dom Steve, daddy kink, captain kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, spanking, punishments, Steve is pushy and possessive, some angst, (lemme know if I missed any)

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 5.2k

Series masterlist

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You jerked when you heard Steve’s voice calling out to you, dropping your lipstick on your lap, your heart hammering in your chest.

You stared at his reflection in the dressing mirror. “God, Steve,” looking over your shoulder you glared at him, “Don’t you think you shouldn’t be sneaking up on me? Especially after everything that happened.”

His face immediately soften, muttering an apology to you, “But you’re not going out today.” He said in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

But you weren’t one of his agents or one to be bossed around. “And you get to tell me what to do, because?” folding your arms over your chest and mimicking his stance.

“Sweetheart, come on, don’t argue with me. It’s still dangerous for you out there.”

“What do you mean? I thought you arrested those guys. Who else would be after me?” you frowned.

He takes two long strides, standing before you and taking your hand in his “Clint has been interrogating them all night. They’ll crack soon enough and give up who they’re working for but we need to be careful till then.”

You sighed, “How long do you think it will be?”

“I don’t know, doll. Hopefully not too long.”

“Well, I can’t just stay locked up forever. Besides a locked door isn’t going to stop Hydra, I mean it didn’t the first time. So really what difference does it make if I’m in college or at home?”

“About that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “how would you feel about moving into the Avengers tower?”

“What?” you blinked. You had heard of the Avengers living and working from the Avengers/Stark tower. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Steve would possibly live there as well, but for some reason it did. “For how long?”

“Uh, we can give it a try and see how it goes?” he hesitated. He should’ve asked you to move there as soon as you told him you felt unsafe. The whole incident could’ve easily been avoided.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind living there, I think,” you shrugged, “it’s you I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” he tilted his head to the side, like a cute little puppy.

You got up from the chair, looping your hands over his neck and playing with the little hair on the nape of his neck, “You’re so cute and clueless, baby,” you cooed.

He huffed at that, puffing out his chest to show you how ‘macho' he is. Completely capable of protecting his girl from big bad guys no matter what.

“I just felt the tower is so unlike you. It’s so...”

Modern--was the word you were looking for, but that seemed too on the nose so you tried to think of a better adjective. You had only ever been to the tower a few times. The first was to make a delivery, when you met Steve for the first time, and then a few times at parties and little get-togethers. It was strange to think that you were part of the Avengers inner circle now, especially if you’re going to be living with them.

“So what?” he wanted to know.

“Just so not you, Stevie. I can’t imagine you living there.”

“We should’ve moved long ago. As soon as you told me about the stalker. I should’ve taken it more seriously.”

“Hey,” you traced his sharp cheekbone, “it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. Except the ones who did the kidnapping,” you scrunched up your nose, “they’ll get what’s coming to them though, right?”

“Of course, they’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again,” he promised, kissing the inside of your wrist.

You kept looking at your watch. A gift from your mum for your high school graduation. It had a vintage feel to it, the thin leather strap making your hand look to delicate, Steve had always said that he liked it the best. He always did like you looking small compared to him.

The elevator dinged, “Exactly four minutes.”

“Hm?” he asked, lacing his fingers with yours as he walked towards ‘his' apartment. Or the apartment that was supposed to be his.

Tony had offered him boarding there when the tower was reconstructed months ago. He thought about it but eventually said no upon seeing just how big the apartment was.

Hell he had a whole floor to himself, which was too extravagant for him. He was used to taking only what he needed, if that.

More than that though...

You caught him looking at you, sparing him a sweet smile that crinkled your sparkling eyes.

More than that he didn’t want to live in such a large space all alone.

He would never share that with anyone, they’d laugh at Captain America being too scared of being alone. When he had the love and adoration of the whole world, a second chance at life and everything one could need to be happy.

But he still couldn’t bear the deafening silence of his lonely apartment. He’d get home from work, switch on the television so he’d have something to talk about with his colleagues, sip on a beer. It didn’t necessarily get him drunk or even taste all that great but it made him feel normal.

He never had to think about being alone in a strange new world all that much since he was often too busy. But he absolutely would not have an entire floor to himself. He’d surely go crazy.

“Four minutes for the elevator to get up here from the ground floor. It’s so high,” you marvelled at the view the floor to ceiling windows gave you.

“Yeah. They really should put some music there. They used to, back in my day,” he shared.

He wasn’t afraid of talking about his past with you. You never made fun of him for it, but instead listened intently and nodded. At most you’d tease him a bit... but he kinda liked that.

He punched in the code to his apartment, telling it to you, “Your birthday,” he winked, “it’s changed every twenty-hour hours.”

“That seems a bit excessive. This place is like a fortress, I doubt anybody could break in.”

He held the door open for you as you entered. Surprised to find the apartment already furnished.

“How did they manage to do all this so soon?” you wondered. Running your hands on the leather of the couch in the middle of the living.

The dark couch went well with the hardwood floors. A tall bookshelf to the side, it felt almost like a study, your fears of it being too modern and minimalistic for Steve’s taste were null, too masculine for your taste though. It seemed a lot like Steve’s old apartment. “Needs a woman’s touch.”

“You can decorate it however you like,” he said, hugging you from behind, he propped his chin up on your head.

“I don’t know... I don’t have any experience decorating apartments...” your voice small, scared of not being able to live up to his expectations. “Certainly wouldn’t do as good a job as you did,” your back leaned into his front.

“I didn’t decorate this, honey,” he chuckled. “Tony hired an interior designer. A few months ago but I didn’t want to live here then. We can ask him to call her again and then you can talk to her.”

“No, I don’t want to cause trouble. And it’s not like we’re living here for long,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean?” his voice stiff and although you couldn’t look at him you just knew he was frowning.

“Isn’t it a bit too soon to move in together?”

“But we were already living together.”

You sighed, “Yeah, but making renovations seems too... permanent?”

“You don’t want us to be permanent?”

You turned around, your heart aching at even the thought of hurting him, “That’s not what I meant, love... Isn’t it weird to live where you work?”

“It’s better this way. I can get home to you sooner,” he argued.

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“Are you having second thoughts about us?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head, “It’s a bit intimidating, but nope, no second thoughts.”

“That’s good then.”

You often dreamt all things Steve ever since you started dating him. Marrying him, even having a little boy wearing a mini Captain America suit for Halloween who looked eerily similar to Steve. You called him James after Steve’s late friend, you hadn’t told him about that though.

This morning you were dreaming of being whisked away in Italy, having your wedding to him by lake Como. You were wearing a traditional forties style gown, much like the one your grandma wore at your wedding.

Scrunching your nose as you were pulled from your beautiful dream when you felt something wet on your cheek. Rubbing it away with your palm, you moaned.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Steve cooed, peppering kisses all over your face. Knowing that to be the best way to calm you before you snapped at him for waking you up so early.

You opened your eyes, rubbing your sleep away, “It’s still dark... I thought we agreed I’m doing school online,” you turned away from him, nuzzling your face into your pillow. “What time is it?”

“It’s five.”

“Pm?”

He snorted, “No. AM.”

“Oh my god, Steve!” you groaned, “What is wrong with you? That’s like...the middle of the night. Let me sleep in peace.”

“We have to train you. Come on I’ll teach you some self defense moves, it’ll be fun.”

“I doubt any amount of training will make me capable of fighting off hydra...”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try,” he interrupted you, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Maybe in the evening.”

“Morning is the best time to do it. Come on, it’ll be fun! Besides, we always do your thing.”

He did often let you pick the movie or drag him shopping so he could hold your bags and pay for your stuff. You knew he liked to work out and would like to have you do it with him. The only problem was--you literally couldn’t think of anything worse to do.

“Square your shoulders, honey,” he instructed as you followed, seeing an opening to punch him in his stomach, and because you were mad about being woken up at literally the crack of dawn you took it.

He managed to dodge it, obviously. And even had the nerve to be cocky about it as he smirked at you. “You’re so small, puppy,” he teased, patting your head.

You huffed, being almost a foot shorter than him. “Whatever.”

And then you recalled all the times you had wrestled your cousin, who was much bigger than you, when you were kids. Remembering a move that often worked on him.

You launched towards Steve, holding onto his midsection and trying to tackle him to the ground.

“Urgh!” you groaned but he refused to move even an inch.

Eventually you did give up, if only so you could stop embarrassing yourself. Helping, or rather just standing to the side and watching Steve as he punched the shit out of a bag.

“Go, Steve!” you cheered. Rubbing your thighs together at the sight of him all sweaty and of his bulging muscles. “You should bring me down here more often,” you sighed dreamily.

“Will do,” he smirked, pulling the velcro of his gloves, “Come on, it’s time to do some crunches, I’ll spot you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, please,” you tried to run away, even though you knew it’d be of no use, but he effectively caught you and made you lie down on the mat. Giving you a goal of two sets of twenty frigging crunches.

“I hate you,” you grumbled. Willing yourself to pull your upper body up despite the slight pain in your side, moving up as Steve pecked your lips. To give you an ‘incentive’.

“Stop lying, I know you love me,” he smiled.

Lying back on the mat after your first set, on the verge of giving up but Steve kept insisting that you go on.

You looked down at him. His skin barely had a sheen of sweet, blond strands kissing his forehead. He still had an amber glow to his skin even as you got closer to the winter months.

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself.” Often getting lost in his beauty.

You smirked as you got a wicked idea, putting your legs over his, straddling his hips, “Have you ever wanted to do something in public?” you asked, as he simply stared up at you, completely dumbfounded. Rolling your hips against his, “I have, it’ll be fun and thrilling.”

“I... No,” he blinked, shaking his head, “We shouldn’t,” but even as he said it, he held onto your sides, pulling you closer to him. You giggled as you felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

“Oh my god, guys, come on.”

You yelped, holding onto Steve’s shoulders to keep from falling, looking to your side to see where the voice came from.

“We could come back if you want...” Natasha said. She didn’t look fazed by it at all, unlike her friend.

“No, we are not coming back! This is not what you use the gym for, Rogers.”

You looked at Steve, who was as red as a tomato, “Sorry,” he got up, helping you up as well, standing behind you to cover up his erection, he introduced you to his friend, “This is Sam.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam gave you a nervous smile.

“We should get going,” Steve said, pushing you towards the exit. “That’s a sneaky way to get out of training,” he whispered in your ear as you walked back to the elevator, “It won’t work again,” pinching you butt, making you squeal.

“We’ll see.”

You hummed as you looked at your side of the closet, which was as big as your old living room, it looked as if you didn’t really have enough stuff to fill it out. You looked over at Steve’s side, even more empty... and “So boring,” you whispered under your breath.

“Right?” Tony nodded, as if agreeing with you.

Why he was there in the first place you didn’t know. You didn’t invite him, neither did Steve, he had said he just wanted to see how well you both were fitting in. With Steve gone for the most part of the past couple of days you were on your own to unpack everything.

Tony said he’d help you... but you had a feeling he was just snooping.

“What a grandfather sense of fashion he has,” he looked at your poor Steve’s shirts in disgust.

You took offense to that. “If anyone can pull it off, he can,” you huffed. Nobody insults your man.

“Really?” he quirked a brunette brow, “I don’t think so. I mean... I could probably. I can pull off anything,” he boosted.

“I mean, you could try them on if you like, but they’re probably too big for you,” you taunted him in mock sympathy.

“Ouch, guess I deserve that,” he said as he went through the box you had stuffed your make up in.

“What are you even looking for?” you pulled it away from him, glaring at him, “Don’t you have a company to run or a world to save?”

“Hey, Steve was the one who asked me to keep you company,” he held his hands up.

“Really?”

“Well, he asked Nat, which is basically the same as asking me. So I volunteered. He wasn’t happy about that though,” you smacked his hand away when he tried to pry into another box.

“Why would you volunteer?” Steve may have good intentions but having the billionaire hovering over you was only making you irritated.

“... to hang out I guess,” he confessed when he couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

You giggled, “If you wanted to be my friend you could’ve just said so!”

“No... no,” he shook his head, “I didn’t say anything about wanting to be friends.”

He was just curious about you. To figure out what Caps taste is. And to maybe get some hot goss about him. Not that being friends with you sounds like the end of the world, you certainly weren’t as insufferable as Cap.

“What would you like to do, fren?” you fluttered your lashes at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be packing?”

“I’m bored of being cooped up. Lets do something fun!”

Steve smiled, a wide cheeky one, as he thought of all the things he could do with you and spend the remainder of his day with you. His stomach doing somersaults in giddiness.

“I could get used to this,” he said to himself before calling out for you. The thought of coming home to you everyday, so domestic and romantic. His smile dropping as he looked for you in the bedroom, the boxes sat scattered and unopened. All over the room.

He knew you were in the apartment before he even heard your voice, his super senses alerting him, “Oh, Steve!” you perked up. Giggling as you put your shopping bags down. “So, I might’ve made an oopsie.”

Plumping down on the fluffy bed, large enough to fit two Steve’s and still have room for you, taking off your real Louboutins. Since Steve gave you his card, you decided you wanted to treat yourself to them. But they were equally as uncomfortable as the fake ones.

“What?” he quirked a brow, his hands on his hips as he despondently shook his head.

“Well, Tony pointed out that your wardrobe is kinda...” you thought of a adjective that wouldn’t be offensive, biting your lip as you went through your vocabulary, “Old-ish?” when he didn’t reply you kept going, “and I might’ve maxed out your card... Tony offered to pay! But it didn’t feel right,” you jutted your bottom lip out, pushing your titts up together in an attempt to look cute.

“You went out? When I specifically asked you not to?” a rage simmering in his voice--which you didn’t quite like. Because who the fuck was he to talk to you like that?

“I had Iron Man with me. I think I was okay. You’re being annoying,” you rolled your eyes.

“Am I?” his hands now folded over his chest.

And you’d be frustrated with him acting as if he was your dad, sure you called him daddy but that didn’t give him the right to have authority over you while you weren’t naked, if he didn’t look so fucking good. With the veins propping on his forearms, light blond hair littered over it, his watch strapped on his wide wrist. You only stared him down in response.

“It would’ve been better if you had went alone instead. Tony is nothing but trouble,” he scoffed.

“I thought you wanted me to make friends with your team,” you countered.

“Are my clothes too embarrassing for you? Am I too old for you?” he tried to keep his voice from wavering, to hide some of his vulnerability, but he couldn’t, not to you anyway. “Is that why you didn’t tell your family about me?”

You gaped at him. That was the reason you hadn’t told your mom. She’d point out the obvious reasons, as she had just like you expected, him being from the forties would just make things harder for you both.

“I - ” you started but then stopped, “I like your clothes as they are. If you don’t like what I got you then we can return them. I just wanted to do something nice for you,” getting up and then walking towards him, kissing his jaw and stroking his arms to calm him, “you never think about yourself, I wanted to do that for you.”

“I wish that was true, doll,” he replied gravely. His lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at your sweet face, “But you have to apologize. For not following my orders.”

You snorted, taking a step back, “For the last time--you cannot order me around. I don’t care that you think you know what’s best.”

“Really? I’ve been working my ass off on trying to find the guys that did this to you and you are just hell bent on making my life harder,” he let out a dry chuckled, “say your sorry.”

“Make me.”

You regretted the words as soon as they came out of you, before you knew it he had you hauled over his lap, ready to spank an apology out of you.

“Ah!” you yelped at the unceremonious blow.

You did like it when he spanked you, you truly didn’t know why, but it made your pussy quiver. And honestly he didn’t do it enough. Only doing it once when you were late and weren’t able to call him.

Slapping your covered bottom a second time before stopping when he heard you moan, slipping a palm under your dress, being purposely slow to draw it out for you, to torture you in his own way, he pushed your panties aside, swirling your juices around your lips.

“You’re fucking enjoying this,” he growled.

You whimpered when he rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers, nodding your head, already feeling yourself tethering on the edge.

“That’s too bad... I’ll have to be more creative,” he said as he withdrew his hand, making you writhe in his hold.

You looked at him over your shoulder, wiggling your butt to try to entice him before huffing when he simply stared at you, stoic as ever, “You’re no fair!”

“I’m doing this to be fair, sweetheart. I don’t enjoy it anymore than you do.”

A blatant, clear-cut, shameless lie. You both knew it. He loved thinking of ways to ‘punish' and executing them.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he placed you over his lap, your back to his broad front, his fingers working on the zipper of your dress. Pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“I’m going to fuck you till you admit that you’re sorry,” since he had no patience for insolence, placing a dubiously sweet and innocent kiss to your cheek.

“In your dreams,” you retorted but then shivered in his arms you let him roll your panties down your thick thighs, lifting up your hips to help him out, leaving you completely bare against him.

You bashfully rubbed your face against his button up, you felt his heart beating steadily, as his hands shamelessly explored your body. Grabbing and kneading at your breasts and hips, tracing the stretch marks on your thighs.

“Aren’t you gonna take your clothes off too?” you made yourself small.

You weren’t afraid of being so vulnerable before him, you had gotten used to it because you trusted him enough to not be intimidated by his perfect physique, but right now your whole body felt hot as you just wanted to cover up and give yourself some sort of modesty. Even if your desires and yearning for him was anything but modest.

“No, honey,” he answered, his fingers parting your weeping lips as he looked down to get a glance of it over your shoulders. Licking his lips at the sight of it, “Such a pretty pussy, doll. And all mine,” he rasped as he prodded at your hole with his middle finger before pushing it in, “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nodded, trying to roll your hips over the erection pressing into your back.

He stilled your movements by holding onto your hips, warning you to stop, “Forever?” he urged.

“Yes, forever, god, just do something!” you wailed. Because whatever he was doing was not enough to satisfy you.

He hummed in thought, “I’m not a young guy. I prefer to take my time,” he pushed another finger in, stretching you out by viscously scissoring your cunt, all the while kissing your hair and your face.

He wasn’t someone who took only what he needed.

He didn’t need you.

Although it often seem to him as if you were like air--impossible to live without. He didn’t need you to live.

But he wanted you. More than anything else in the whole world.

He knew he shouldn’t keep you. Only being with you for a few months and he had almost gotten you killed but there was no way he could help himself.

“I’m selfish,” he whispered to you, pausing his ministrations to ruin your climax, “I’m selfish with you. I’m not as good as everyone makes me out to be,” he confessed. He didn’t know if it was right to do so, but he didn’t want to even consider the other option of letting you go.

“I figured out long ago that you weren’t all that good and boring,” you cried as he stopped again. Your hand holding onto his wrist as your sensitive cunt gushing juices of arousal all over your brand new sheets. “But I’m good, aren’t I, daddy?” you whispered, sultrily. “You can make me come--I’m always good to you. I promise I’ll suck you off after.”

“No.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his rejection, he had never done that to you. To deny you so easily and bluntly. You thought he was the one person in this whole world who would do anything for you, you could ask for the moon and he’d probably try to give it to you.

Was he really that mad at you?

Your bottom lip quivering as tears welled up in your eyes, “You’re so mean,” you accused, loudly sniffing as you felt a tear drop down your cheek.

He blinked, his fingers stopping their assault on your swollen pussy as he took in your words. You could stomp all over his heart, even shoot him, do anything you want to him, he’d forgive you for it but he absolutely could not bear to see you cry.

“No, pup,” he cooed, gently removing his fingers as you whined, he kissed your forehead as he hushed you, “it’s okay, you’re okay, shush,” one hand under your neck and circling another under your knees, cradling your naked body close to his chest like a babe, he rocked you back and forth in an effort to sooth you.

“I’m sorry I was mean,” he whispered into your hair.

“You broke your pinky promise,” you held onto his neck. You were angry with him and at the situation but your body craved the comfort his gave you. “I can’t trust you now.”

His heart ached at that, “Don’t say that,” he furrowed his brows, kissing you all over your face, “I didn’t yell, puppy.”

“But you got mad,” you puffed your cheeks.

“I didn’t promise to not get mad. That’s a bit unrealistic...”

“No, you promised--no yelling, curing or meanness. Not calling me your 'good girl' or letting me come is mean! And cruel,” you reminded him, whimpering into his chest.

“Right, right. I’m sorry, that’s my fault then. I got a bit carried away... I thought you liked that you know?”

You hummed. You did like it when Steve was a bit rough, but you always knew he loved you with all his heart because you could see it in his eyes. The way he’d praise you for being so good for him, calling you his one and only, that he could never love anyone as much as he loves you.

But when he didn’t say that to you, when he refused to call you good, your soft heart couldn’t take the rejection.

“I do... but...” you hid your face in his neck.

“But what?” he urged you.

“But I also like knowing that you love me,” you spoke against his prickly stubble.

“Of course I love you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t, even for a second. You’re my sweet girl, forever and always,” he promised, rocking you some more, until your breathing becomes normal and steady again.

“You’re my daddy forever too,” you giggled, “or Captain, whatever you prefer.”

“If I had to pick I’d say Steve,” he told you. While it was nice to have you call him sweet name, nobody really uses his given name anymore. To have you call him that in your sweet girly voice, reminding him that he could be just Steve with you, was exhilarating.

“Okie, Stevie then.”

“Right, how about I draw you a bath? Afterwards we can go over the things you got me,” he perked up.

“You don’t have to wear them if you’re not comfortable.”

“I know, pup, but I want to. I want to get with the times. Can’t have anyone making fun of you for dating an old man,” he teased, swaying you some more.

“Hm, but...”

“But what?”

“I... um... still wanna come, so bad,” you whispered softly, rubbing your thighs together. “Will you make me come, Stevie?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately, “how would you like me to?”

“I wanna come around you,” you stated as heat rushed to your cheeks. “And I am sorry. I probably should’ve told you before going with Tony.”

“I know you’ve been cooped up, honey. I’m going to take a few days off so we can do whatever you like,” he said, working on unbuckling his belt, “But before that, I need to take care of my sweet girl, just like she does for me.”

Your hands feebly pulling at his button up, he took your queue and rid himself of it, along with his undershirt as your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest.

Pulling his length out, he manoeuvred your body till you over him, “Guide me in, sweetheart,” he instructed as you whimpered.

Grabbing the base of his cock, coating your slick in his pre ejaculate, you slowly sunk down on him. Not being able to fit all of him in, because he was as thick as a can of pringles, and oh so long.

You looked at him, too anxious to disappoint him, “Can’t fit it all in,” you whined.

“It’s okay, doll,” he stroked your back. “We’ll make it fit some other day,” he pecked your lips, lying on his back and pulling you down with him he snaked a hand between your bodies, working your clit up with his hand till he felt you convulsing and clenching around his length, gripping him so tight as you squirmed in his hold.

Whispering sweet nothings to you as you calmed down from your high. You wanted to do something for him too, to make him come, so you grinded your hips over his, shivering at the sick squelching sounds your joined sexes made.

But he stopped you by gripping your hips, “How about you just keep me warm for now?” he asked.

You hummed, “It’ll be hard...” to have him just stay inside you, and you knew he could stay hard for hours if he wanted to, and for you to not be able to do anything about it...

“I know it will be. But you’re my good girl, you can do that for me, right?” he tipped your chin up to make you look at him.

“Yes, Stevie,” you agreed.

Laying your head back on his chest, muttering a ‘sorry' whenever you accidentally clenched around him and following his orders like a good girl would.

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downywrites · 3 years

Text

Sap.

Dream and george find out that water makes sap very sensitive and use it to their advantage.

The rain was pouring. Pouring a little too hard for the blaze hybrid’s liking. Sapnap leaned on the side of the railway, avoiding the droplets of water that threatened to fall on top of him with every shift of the wind. The cutting edge of the wind felt like a blade to his throat, soft sizzling emanating from his form. He sighed softly. “Where are the other two? They said that they would be here to get me that stupid umbrella I need.” A scoff. “Seriously, are they busy snogging or something? Prime, they are the most annoying people on the SMP-”

Footsteps on the path snapped him out of his trance.

He stepped back from the railing in surprise. “Hello?” Tail softly lashing back and forth, he turned around to see absolutely nothing but a haze of rain. Dejected, he looked down at his shoes. “Of course it wasn’t them. It’s probably Tommy or something. Another round of footsteps graced his ears. He perked up again for a moment, excited. His chest raced with muted interest. “Dream? George?” Again, no sound but the pattering rain pierced the air. He shook his head back and forth. Was he hearing things? He stepped back from the railings completely, taking a seat on the cold stone floor below him. Carefully crossing his legs into a criss-cross position, he took in the world around him in a different perspective. He was never the kind to meditate (or slow down at all, for that matter), but his lovely husband has taught him how. Sapnap let his eyes flutter shut. Almost immediately, Karl’s voice serenaded him amongst the sound of water flowing beside him. “Alright, Sappy, breathe in time with me. In…” Sapnap inhaled. The scent of water and grass and soggy wood permeated his senses. “And out.” The breath of white smoke that came out of his mouth was not stress-induced, not at all. “In…” And the rain went on and on. “Out….”

Sapnap came to with the sound of birds chirping merrily in his ears. Groaning softly, he rubbed at his eyes and uncrossed his legs as best as he could. The stretch in his legs hinted that he may have been in that position for more than a few hours too long. He rolled out of the position, uncaring of how much morning dew could be on the grass directly outside of the blaze hut/shelter he had made in a panic. Morning dew… His eyes shot wide open. “Dream!” He pulled himself upright, entire body tingling. Tingling? Why was he tingling? He didn’t know, didn’t care. (Later on, the dew he rolled in may end up not being as insignificant as he thought. But he didn’t know that then.) He ran over the Prime path, carefully avoiding any random puddles that pooled like little miniature lakes in the divots of the dented wood.

The smell of spring greeted his nose as he ran. The sweet-itchy scent of flowers in full bloom was present in the cacophony of sights, sounds, and smells. At one point, a certain pollen-filled flower from the Egg caused him to set a small tree on fire, forcing him to slow down and put out the fire before it made too much of an ashy mess on Hannah’s property. Nevertheless, the blaze hybrid ran on, determined to find (and catch) his buddy in the act of being relatively indecent. He was already snickering at the idea.

The amount of blackmail he could get in one awkward moment between the two obviously dating lovebirds? Astounding.

He weaved through the bamboo nearby to get to the community house. His footsteps made dull thunks as he leaped from place to place, eager to catch Dream in the act. A door slammed open. “Dream! I got you-” Dream and George were, unfortunately for him, not sitting on the crafting table. No, they were doing something much worse. “Is that...a spray bottle? Full of water?” George and Dream fumbled for their mask and googles respectively. “Uhhh…” “Certainly not, no way! Haha…”

Sapnap placed his hands on his hips like a disapproving parent, tutting softly. “Seriously, you left me out in the rain to ambush me?” Prime Almighty, you guys are the worst!” Dream glanced to the side, flushing slightly. “Well, we weren’t trying to ambush you, we were just, uh-” George’s voice reverberated slightly to his left, causing him to turn to look at him. Red-orange eyes glared fiery wrath at the blue-clad man. “We were just organizing the chests. We lost track. Sorry.” Sapnap’s spaded tail lashed in anger. “Lost track of time? Organizing chests?!?! What kind of chests take all night to organize!?!” He huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting as a child does when they don’t get their way. An amused huff escaped George. “Sapnap, don’t worry. You seemed fine when we came over. Besides, we wanted to test something out on you.”

The blaze opened one eye to look at him. “Test? Test what?” George smirked slightly. “Just a little something. We heard that only heavy water hurts you. So…” He trailed off, glancing at his taller friend expectantly. Dream stood up a little straighter, grateful for his intervention. “We decided to see how sensitive you would get if we spritzed you with a water bottle when you woke up.” Sapnap opened his eyes fully. His countenance softened from outright angered to annoyed as he processed their words. As he slowly understood their, -albeit, still rather foolish- thought process, he nodded.

“Humph, fine.” The duo’s shoulders sagged downwards in relief. “But, you have to admit, leaving me out in the fucking cold all night for your bullshit is definitely not the best decision you’ve made, you hoglin-birthed idiots.” Dream’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. He stuttered over his words, fumbling with the white and black spray bottle as he spoke. “W-well, I mean, do y-you w-ant to test the theory out now?” He grabbed his mask and swiftly put it on with one hand, relaxing almost immediately. “Shall we?” Sapnap nodded, teeth snagging on his lips as he smiled. One thing he could never, ever replicate without his cryptic friend is the way he could morph into someone completely different with his trusty mask on. It was a party trick that never got old- and almost always won the trio a hefty amount of gold and valuables from friend and foe alike.

He took a few steps forward, glancing at the spray bottle with a small amount of trepidation. Small flurries of anxiety flitted to and fro in his mind. ‘What if it sprays wrongly and it burns me?’ ‘What if they just want me dead, and this is the best way to do it? Nobody’s ever seen a water-burned body after death!’ He tried to shoo the bad thoughts away. ‘No, no! These are my friends, my very best friends. They wouldn’t kill me just like that.’ He glanced over to George, who was slowly moving to Dream’s side of the room. As he moved, Sapnap got a much better look at his ‘refined’ hunter ally. As he took in more and more details of his friend’s state, it became more and more clear that they were doing much, much more than just organizing the community chests. His usually perfectly groomed hair was mussed up, gel making his hair go absolutely askew from its normal, streamlined appearance. His shirt was slightly off and most definitely inside out, judging from the way the tags stuck out to the side.

He suppressed a snicker at the way he looked, earning a slightly cold glance from the goggle-wearing man. George held out his hand, fingers wiggling in a come here gesture. Dream complied, walking over and placing the spray bottle in his hands, before carefully grabbing Sapnap’s arm and leading him over to the nearest bed. Sapnap laid in the bed willingly, only stopping to look at Dream and George and wiggle his eyebrows to get a soft blush and a rough shove from the unmasked of the two. Sapnap, face down on the pillows, turned his head slightly to get a better look at the two men’s figures. “Okay, so what next, geniuses?” The sound of the bottle spraying and the sensation of mist landing on his back made his eyes widen. “Wait, what are you-”

A warm, rough hand traced a small circle on the meat of his shoulder, trying to calm him down. Another hand pulled the back of his shirt up. The next round of mist landed on his bare skin. The soft hissing started up again. Soft, gentle tingles erupted from his back. He tried to get up a little, but the hand kept him firmly pinned to the soft confines of the bed. “Don’t move, Sap. We need to get some research in.” A single finger traced a small scar on his back, making him stifle a giggle. “If this kind of mist doesn’t do anything dangerous to your body, what does it do?” Another finger joined the first, and suddenly the pattern on the pillow looked awfully interesting. Sapnap bit his lip, struggling to keep the laughter encased in his chest. “Sap? You’re awfully quiet. Is this hurting you?” The genuine concern in Dream’s voice reminded him of his obligation to answer based off of the ‘testing’ they were doing. After all, they certainly didn’t know what they were doing to him, were they? Sapnap opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a stream of honey-sweet giggles.

George and Dream exchanged glances. Dream’s concern melted into curiosity and a slight hint of mischief. “Ohh, so that’s why you avoid water at all costs. Because if you so much as gently touch it…” He wiggled a finger over his shoulder blades, making the blaze underneath him shudder. “It would completely undo your fiery attitude. Speaking of fiery attitude..where’s your usual sass?” Sapnap tried to turn his head to look at Dream. “Ihihit’s stihill here, yohou dihihpshit!”

George raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Oh? He definitely needs to watch his mouth. After all, he’s the one at our mercy right now.” To prove his point, George sprayed another round of mist onto the blaze. As the soft water droplets landed on his skin, the feeling of Dream’s hand fluttering over his back increased tenfold. The blaze squirmed away from his hand, giggling like mad. “Nohoho! Guhuhuys, cuhuhut ihihit ohohut!” “Aww, coochie coo Sappy! Who’s our little ticklish blaze? Oh, you are!” Dream cooed, suddenly feeling the urge to take off his mask and grin full force at the twitching hybrid below him. Sapnap’s tail curled around his hand, twitching every once in a while. “Nohoho, dohohn’t bahahaby tahahalk!”

George seized the moment, grabbing the flat part of his tail and scribbling his nails lightly over its surface. His reaction was instantaneous. He bucked his hips, frantically trying to escape his friend’s clutches. “Ehaha! Gehehe-HEAHAHA!” The sensations sparked through his spine at the same time the now-familiar sound of the spritzer bottle hit his ears. “NAHAHAT THEHE- THEHE TAHAHAI-” A loud squeal cut off his words as George decided to change his technique from mild scratching to semi-firm rubbing. Dream, absolutely charmed by the sound of his blaze friend’s laughter, continued to explore the scars on his back, dewy from the misting that George was periodically giving it. The masked man found a particular spot at the base of his collarbones. Grinning, he turned to look at George, then back at Sapnap. “Oh Sapnap~ I think I know how to expose your wings~”

Sapnap’s blood ran cold. He squirmed even more than before, struggling to escape (but not genuinely. All of them knew he could just throw him off at a moment’s notice). Dream thumbed the base of his shoulder blades, carefully rubbing at them so as to not cause any bodily harm to the fragile items. With great care, he scratched at the nubs barely protruding out of his back, waiting for the telltale sound of nether magic. He stepped back a little, allowing his friend’s wings to unfurl. George, being the person that he is, decided that Sapnap didn’t need that much of a break. He dug his fingers into the leather of his tail, scratching roughly there.

Sapnap howled with laughter, his tail twitching in George’s grasp so quickly it would have escaped from his grasp hadn’t George had the sensibility to wrap an extra coil of his tail around his wrist. Dream winced in sympathy. “Ooh, that must feel really, really bad….” George scoffed, inaudible to everyone but him. “Tch. Seriously? We can’t be all empathetic in the middle of an experiment, Dream. We need to stay calm. How in the world are we going to get results if you slow down?” Hesitantly, as if waiting for Sapnap’s cue, Dream grabbed at the crook of his close friend’s wing. He coasted his free hand over the held wing’s thin, sensitive membranes, equally enjoying and besmirching the twitching and squirming of the appendage. If Sapnap was in ticklish agony earlier, this was some new form of torture that he could never have dreamed of.

All the same, he refused to pull his wing or tail away, enjoying the electric-hot sensation zipping through every single one of his nerves. At this point, he couldn’t form words or sentences long enough to explain his feelings. Every time he tried to speak, all that came out were shrieks and inhuman noises as his tail wiggled in George’s grasp from the intense attention. His wing was more manageable...barely. Dream wasn’t actively trying to get him to tap out, but the sensations coursing through his veins still caused him to twist and turn in his grasp. “CAHAHAT IHIHAHA- AHAHA! NAHAHA!”

A particularly high-pitched squeak escaped his lips as another round of water landed on his extraneous limbs. “NAHAHA- MAHAH- GEHAHA!” Dream smiled fondly at his friend, fluttering his fingers over any spots that made Sapnap’s breath hitch for a moment too long. Even George began to sway over to the cackling blaze’s side, a small quirk to his lips being the only sign of being charmed. Eyes flicking to the soft, fluffy base of the man’s tail, George could immediately see that his little subject was beginning to tire. The twitching of both limbs had slowed down to a few twitches here and there, and the poor man’s laughter was dwindling down to silent laughter and small little wheezes when he could inhale long enough to oxygenate his lightheaded consciousness. It was all Sapnap could do to keep from passing out from the rough tickling at this point. His eyes felt like lead weights had melted and hardened over his eyelashes.

Even his tail, the most lightweight part of his body, felt like solid metal to move save from the involuntary twitches from the almost overwhelming stimulation. Sapnap tried to grab at Dream’s sleeve weakly, tugging at the fabric as well as he could from his position. George and Dream shared a look. Brown met green through the eye holes of the porcelain mask. Dream unpinned the wheezing hybrid quickly. George, picking up the slack, gently nudged the limp warrior with one hand. “Sapnap..?” Sapnap made no effort to answer. A small sigh.

With a few deft movements, George freed his spaded tail, which flopped limply to the wooden floor. George tried again. “Sapnap.” This time, the man answered with a noncommittal “Mmm…I don’t think I can get up.” The blue-clad man rolled his eyes dramatically. “We weren’t even trying that hard, you drama king. Precious Prime.” Sapnap shot back with a little hint of heat behind his words, “Well, sorry, Mr. Pretty Princess. You don’t get just how much more sensitive I get from that stupid shit. I thought you guys would let up after I stopped breathing right!” His tail lashed slightly, rooting for any sign of George.

Dream held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, guys, I’m sure we can solve this later. Sap, can you get up?” He didn’t even try to move. “I don’t think I could move if the lives of my husbands were in jeopardy.” The masked man giggled softly, holding a hand up to his mouth to hide his smile. “Okay, well, you can lay there for a while longer. I think George and I may want to finish the chest-sorting we were doing earlier. Sapnap snuggled into the pillow more, smushing his face against the soft fabric and drying some of his still-fresh tears. When did he cry? He didn’t remember, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was happy, and he felt loved… wait. “Chest sorting? You guys weren’t actually chest-sorting, were you?”

The sound of nervous laughter echoed in the house. Sapnap huffed into the pillow. “So you guys really did leave me in the rain to fuck? You guys suck so hard.”

“Of course Dream sucks, what else would he-”

“Prime, George! Don’t say that!”

“What? Worried he might think you're a bottom?”

“I’m not!”

“Oh yes you are~”

Sapnap decided that the pillows would be a much better pair of earmuffs than his hands.

#Downy writes #My fics #my writing #dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!sapnap #ler!dream #ler!george #i am tired lmao #and sorry for the long waits in between #Lol #sfw tickling

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 43

Chapter 43

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, heart break and heartache, swearing, drinking soft, smut

Word Count: 12000

You are awoken at 8am by Elise stirring slightly beside you. Knowing she is hungry and this is the last time you will get to feed her before the honeymoon you adjust your top and pull her into your embrace. You have plenty of milk in the fridge ready for your trip, but you want to enjoy this intimate moment with your daughter.

She immediately latches and you lean back against the headboard gently brushing her thin hairs from her forehead you stare down at her. Normally you would be completely mesmerized staring down at her; this huge piece of you, piece of Fred resting in your embrace. Just as you had felt with your three sons; and every morning with Elise up until this point.

Normally you use these quiet moments with your kids to try to determine what traits they have taken from you, what they have taken from Fred, their father, the man you are set to marry today.

But not today.

Today you feel uneasy, anxious, a ball of nerves resting in your gut. Your stomach doing backflips, nausea washing over you. Your entire body gets hot, palms getting clammy; you take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth, hoping you can make it through the feeding without puking.

You hear Carlee groan at the light knocking at the door, followed by her footsteps on the tile floor. Making your way out to the living room Allie stumbles out of her room wiping sleep from her eyes. Metal squeaking accompanies Carlee as she rolls the tray into the room. She pulls the lids off as you flop onto the couch as Sarah makes her way to join you.

“Good morning beautiful, can’t wait to see you in eight hours when you finally become my wife. Love you xoxo Fred” Carlee reads from a card that accompanies your breakfast. There is a round of “aww’s” from everyone as their eyes fall to you. You swallow the lump in your throat giving a fake smile that nobody seems to see through, still foggy with pre-coffee haze.

The room quickly gets busy after breakfast, Amalie and Charlotte arriving first. Some girls are getting their makeup done, others, yourself included, still having their hair done. You have a white silk robe slung over your shoulders, while all the girls have a pistachio coloured one. Each embroidered with cursive font on the back.

Maybe it’s the buzz in the room; the giggles and chatter, that nobody notices you have barely touched your first mimosa. Or maybe they think you are trying to take it easy, not wanting to be that bride. The bride who spends her wedding with her head in a toilet bowl. Or maybe they think you are pregnant, given your track record it’s not an unreasonable assumption.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Kathy walking in absolutely glowing, six months in to her pregnancy. Or maybe it’s Elise who spends most of the day being passed around the room from woman to woman. Even as she naps she never sees her bassinet, someone always free to bounce in her arms.

But if someone had of looked a little closer they would have seen how your nose scrunched up and you gagged taking that first sip of your mimosa. If someone had of listened they would have heard, well they would have heard nothing.

They would have noticed how 90% of your responses have been under five words, or how most of your responses are half smiles with a small nod of the head. If anyone had of watched they would have seen how you haven’t held your daughter in almost 5 hours, how you are the only person not to rub Kathy’s stomach in hopes of feeling a kick.

If they had of paid attention they would have noticed that you are constantly picking your nails. Your knee is anxiously tapping against the floor, so much so you are surprised a hole hasn’t developed.

If anyone had of noticed they would have seen the emptiness behind your eyes as you slowly fade further and further back.

But they don’t.

Or maybe they do. But maybe they think you are just nervous or so excited you are caught in your head. Maybe this is how some brides feel how some act.

Uneasy at the thought of walking down the aisle.

Uneasy at the thought of getting married.

“Oh you guys are gorgeous” you say as your bridesmaids walk into your sight in floor length pistachio A-line dresses. The top has a scoop neck with a white lace overlay and a racerback. The bottom is a chiffon skirt complete with white heels and matching earrings. It’s something you gifted them all with as a thank you for standing beside you, being a part of this day with you.

It’s after 2:30 and everyone is getting into their dresses, you the last person. You hand Elise over to Charlotte having just got her into her wedding day outfit. The seamstress did an amazing job and the dress that was too big mere weeks ago fits her perfectly.

Carlee and Allie lead you to an attached room and unzip the bag, both of them gasping at the dress before them. They of course helped pick it out, but they haven’t seen it since then. And there is a pretty big change that nobody including yourself knew about until the first fitting.

“Hey babe” you call out walking into the kitchen setting your purse down on the counter.

“Hey” Fred’s arms wrap around your stomach puling you back against his chest. “How’d it go?” his hand gently rubs over the bump.

“Well bean here decided before my first fitting was the perfect time to pop, so the dress would barely do up around it” you laugh. “My dress fittings going forward will be interesting.”

“I’m sure you still looked gorgeous babe” his warm breath is on the shell of your ear. “Wear track pants for all I care.”

“Funny thing though” you gently rub your hands over his as he hums in response. “It wasn’t the dress I picked out.”

“Hmm that is weird” he mumbles.

“Yeah see I ordered a white dress, the one I tried on today was blush.”

You pull his hands away and turn gently in his arms. Your hands land on his shoulders and his eyes stare down at you.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” you ask quirking an eyebrow.

“No” he shakes his head. “That is super weird.”

“You sure?” you ask seeing him trying to hide a smirk but he just nods in response.

“When I asked them about it they said my fiancé went in and made the change” you explain. “Two days after I ordered it.”

You stare up at him, your gaze getting firmer. Your arms cross over your chest and you take a step backwards until you hit the counter running out of space. Staring into his eyes he is the first to break with a deep sigh.

“Kay. So the girls came down last month and you all went shopping, and that night I facetimed with you.”

“Mhm” you nod.

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about the dress just that you loved it but I could tell you were holding something back. Well Lucas started screaming and you passed the phone to Carlee for a couple minutes. Well I kept pestering them and finally Allie let it slip that she didn’t think you were 100% happy with it.”

Shaking your head slightly Fred continues on, his eyes softening “she said there was this dress in blush and you loved the colour but not the dress. Then you tried on the dress you bought and loved it but it was in white. They said you could get it in blush, but the customization was an additional $5000 so you said no and decided to go with white. She said you tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but they could tell you were a little upset. When I got back into town I stopped on my way home. The stylist you had was working and remembered very well how you seemed disappointed. She said it took you over thirty minutes to come out of the dressing room. So I pulled my credit card out and paid for the change then and there.”

“Fred that’s very sweet of you, but I was fine with white” you say softly.

He walks forward and pulls you into his chest before he has the chance to see your face. If he had of waited he might have seen through you, that the problem wasn’t the colour of your dress, something much larger kept you locked in that dressing room. Instead your face is pressed into his chest and he continues on, none the wiser.

“You shouldn’t be fine about your wedding dress. And you know I don’t care about money, the dress even in blush was actually much less than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure this is the wedding of your dreams.”

You should have been thrilled at Fred’s surprise. It should have made you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That you have a fiancé who is willing to stop at nothing to ensure today is exactly as you dreamed it.

Only thing is this isn’t how you dreamt it. How could you?

Instead of feeling butterflies about seeing Fred you have an overwhelming pit in your stomach. No amount of distractions or mental pep talks making it go away.

Slowly Carlee zips the dress up, working on the couple of buttons of the ball gown. Taking a few uneasy breaths staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel tears prick your eyes, just as Allie attaches the vail to your head.

“You look so beautiful” Carlee squeals fixing some of your hair.

“Thanks babe” you reply taking yourself in. The top is lace and beads, dropping into a low V on the front and back. Below the waist blush coloured tulle falls to your feet, trailing a few feet behind you. It’s not a classic ball gown, lacking the puffiness of a princess dress, but still not having a form fitted bottom.

A part of you was worried about the fit, being pregnant the seamstress only had 10 weeks to make the changes. And during that time your body was constantly changing, adjusting to no longer being pregnant. You had no idea what to expect, and this has been a major stress for you.

Finally ready complete with the earrings Charlotte leant you, the pair she wore on her wedding day. You walk over to the window looking out at the 200 guests who are patiently waiting in your seats, sun shining down on them. The clock quickly approaching 4 and everyone is laughing and chatting amongst themselves, every seat full.

You sigh and sniffle back the tears seeing them.

The two empty seats in the front row.

Walking out to the other room joining your other bridesmaids you notice Charlotte has left. Finding her way to Fred, for him to escort her down the aisle. Only Elise and the five bridesmaids left, all eyes falling on you.

“Mommy you look beautiful” you hear your son call. Turning around you see the three of them in matching navy tuxedo’s complete with black bow ties. Fred took you and the kids out a couple months ago to the tailors to pick out the looks for the groomsmen and the boys but you never imagined they would look this adorable.

The dark fabric against his light skin, matching suspenders and hair combed to the side just tugs on your heart strings. A white boutonniere pinned to the outside of his jacket. Fred styled his hair off to the side, his wavy red hair framing his face. You wipe away a stray tear quickly picking him up for a big hug.

“Oh my goodness look at you” you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are just the most handsome best little man.”

A smile tugs on the edge of his lips and a blush hits his cheeks “thanks mommy.”

“How is daddy doing?” you ask giving him another kiss tickling his side.

“He said I can’t tell you” he giggles making you laugh. You hoped Oliver would divulge some details into how Fred was handling today. If his nerved were getting to him, or if he was calm, like when he is in net on game day.

You wish he hadn’t told him though, you wish Oliver would tell you he is anxious. That he had to pour himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, his leg was tapping anxiously against the wood floor. That he was being pulled in two different directions while trying to play it off. But it appears Fred beat you to the punch, telling your child to stay tight lipped.

“Oh and look at your brothers” you say trying to distract yourself as Mitch stands there, holding each of the twins hands. They have on identical suits to Oliver, hair combed over to the side. “All of you are just so handsome.”

You walk over completely bypassing Mitch and scooping them for a big hug. You press your lips to their foreheads holding your three boys tight. Oliver begins to groan about it being too tight and you release him standing up to be met with Mitch.

“Hey Mitch” you say straightening his bow tie before he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

“You look beautiful momma” he says into your ear.

“You look nice too” you smile.

“I look better than nice” he scoffs jokingly. “Is the little lady ready?” he asks looking over to Elise. Wide eyes and smiling in her bassinet dressed in a white dress. It has a lace top and tulle bottom, a large bow tied around it, a white floral headband on her head.

While planning the wedding you tried to find a way to include all of the kids in the day. When you thought you were having a boy you planned on one of the bridesmaids pulling him down the aisle in a wagon. With the surprise of having a girl you switched to a groomsman pulling her down the aisle, and Mitch immediately volunteered to escort her. During the ceremony she will be with Charlotte in the first row but you still wanted to have her be a part of the ceremony.

“Yeah we just have to get her in the wagon” you respond as he walks over picking her up. He grabs a blanket placing it over his crisp suit to protect himself from the potential baby vomit, before pressing her against it. She coos in his arms reaching out to grab his thick brown locks giving them a tight yank.

“Okay” the planner comes into the room scanning around at everyone “Fred is ready and waiting for you.”

“Ready” Carlee comes up wrapping her arms around you for a tight squeeze. You feel yourself tense at the words, fists clenching firmly. Your nails dig harshly into your palms and you take a few uneasy breaths. Unclenching your fists you see the crescent shaped marks you left behind. All day you thought these feelings would go away once it came time to walk down the aisle, but instead bile rises in your throat.

Pulling away she sees some tears in your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey don’t cry” she wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Immediately recognizing these aren’t happy tears, they are the tears that often come before a collapse of emotions. Her voice drops to a hushed whisper as her lips find your ear “what’s going on?” she whispers.

She pulls you in tight and an involuntary sob slips from you before you breakdown against her. The room goes quiet only your sobs echoing as her hand tangles into your curls holding you close.

“(Y/N)” she whispers running her other hand up and down your back.

Your chest heaves and you fall apart in her arms “I don’t know if I can do this” you whisper through a deep shuddering breath as Allie comes up to you wrapping her arms around the two of you. Your chest tightens and your breathing gets erratic the room feeling like its crumbling around you.

“What do you mean (Y/N)” they usher you over to the couch your head falling onto Allie’s shoulder, Carlee crouching down in front of you. The silence that fills the air is deafening. You can feel the tension in the room as everyone watches on, waiting to see how everything unfolds.

“You don’t want to marry Fred?” Carlee asks softly squeezing your hands, your body stiffening at her words.

Your eyes stay locked on your feet but you crumble hearing her words, your heart breaking into a million pieces. You become frozen unable to respond, everything around you fading into the background. Taking a deep breath, anxiety brewing low in your gut slowly inching its way up to your surface

You don’t know how long you sit there, your eyes glazed warm tears barreling down your cheeks. Allie gently squeezes your hand and you remain frozen eyes locked on the floor. “What do you need babe? Need to run, we can do that.”

Silence.

Over what feels like the next hour Carlee and Allie try to talk to you. You hear Oliver object while Mitch, Amalie and Sarah usher the kids outside to provide you with privacy. His cries make your stomach churn and your chest tightens but you can do nothing to help calm him down. You barely have control of yourself at this point.

You spend the next ten minutes sobbing against Allie’s shoulder, Carlee constantly dabbing your tears trying to preserve your makeup. You have a tight hold on one of Carlee’s hands and one of Allie’s as they try to encourage you and talk you down. But it’s no use.

Your hands are shaking, blood running cold while the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. They become inaudible; the only sound you hear is your heart beating through your chest. You feel like you are outside your body watching everything unfold. Stuck in a glass box and no matter how hard you pound your fists against it, it won’t break.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you know nothing will ease them at this point. Biting the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper fills your mouth. Your entire body tenses up “I can’t” you say pushing up from the couch walking away “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/N) you can do this” Carlee says walking up to you.

The blood pounds in your ears. Your heart thudded in your chest. Your hands trembling, feet tingling as you kick your shoes aside. You have to get out. You cry harder, chest growing tighter as bile rises in your throat. Your fists are so tightly bound you expect to draw blood

“No!” you yell stopping her in her tracks “you need to get me out of this.” Turning around to show her the buttons on the back “I can’t breathe you need to get me out of this.”

“Okay okay okay” she fumbles with the buttons, Allie coming to help her. Finally you push it down your body and step out of it standing in just underwear. Immediately you fall to the cool tile floor your dress in a pile a few feet away. Bending your knees and putting your head between them taking a few deep breaths.

You don’t move sitting on the cool floor in your underwear taking deep breaths while your friends silently look on, unsure of what to do next. Seconds feel like minutes, your heart still pounding through your chest. “I need Fred” you whisper so low it’s almost silent.

“What sweetie?” Allie asks your head not lifting from between your legs.

“I need Fred” you repeat and hear her heels click against the floor as the door shuts.

“Wow Frederik” your mom calls walking over to you. She grips your face placing a kiss on your cheek “you look so handsome.”

“Thanks ma” you place a kiss on her cheek pulling back slightly “you look great too.”

She smiles wide “ready?” she asks fixing your sleeve. You can see the tears resting behind her eyes, seeing her first born on his wedding day.

“You have no idea” you laugh holding an arm out for her. “I can’t wait to marry her.”

“Well between you and me, she looks absolutely beautiful” Charlotte says kissing your cheek again. You just smile in response, you have no doubt she is going to be breathtaking. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get through your vows without breaking down.

Her arm links with yours and you begin the walk down the aisle, past the crowd of onlookers. Scanning around you see friends and family on both sides, team mates from all your years in the NHL scattered around.

You don’t spend much time scanning the faces, mostly looking ahead to your awaiting groomsmen. To the altar where you will finally get everything you’ve ever wanted. The squared off altar with soft coloured cloth draping it, white, red and pink roses mingled in it. The large oversized lanterns, soft coloured flowers littering the edge of the aisle, the oval backed brown chairs.

You had no idea this is how it would look. (Y/N) showed you pictures throughout the entire process, but you mostly helped nudge her when she couldn’t pull the trigger. The colour of flowers, the shape of the twinkiling lights, size of the candles. None of them really mattered to you, so you mostly tried to figure out what way (Y/N) was leaning and encouraged her to choose that. She wasn’t always subtle on what option she preferred, but all you need is her standing across from you and nothing else would matter.

But taking in the décor, all you can see is (Y/N). Everything looks amazing, not that you should be surprised. Kissing her cheek she makes her way to her seat and you finally take your spot at the altar beside your groomsmen. Next are the bridesmaids, your kids and then (Y/N).

You shutter just thinking about how in less than thirty minutes she will be your wife. You have the four most amazing kids, and soon this woman you share everything with will be your wife. You thought your family was complete when Elise was born, but today is the final piece to your forever.

“You ready for this” Auston whispers in your ear and you quickly whisper a yes not even bothering to look towards him. Your eyes stay locked down the aisle waiting for them to appear.

Scanning around the crowd you can see the guests getting antsy in their seats. You didn’t go through how long after you arrived at the altar the bridesmaids would start to walk but you are beginning to think it’s taking a little longer than expected.

Shifting awkwardly on your feet you turn to your watch, over twenty minutes late. While being punctual isn’t always her strong suit when dealing with four kids, today is the one day you can’t imagine she will be late.

And that’s when you see her.

Allie.

Quickly making her way down the aisle.

Too quickly.

That’s when it hits you, you shouldn’t be seeing her. It should be Amalie first. And Allie doesn’t look happy, she looks stressed. You swallow the lump in your throat as she comes up to you, turning you so your back is to the crowd.

“You need to come” she whispers in a hushed but assertive tone. “(Y/N)…” she trails off “(Y/N) needs you. Now.”

Your back stiffens at the firmness in her voice. Before she spoke you knew something was wrong, but hearing her tell you that makes you want to fall apart. Instead you turn saying nothing to nobody and head in the wrong direction, back where you came from minutes ago.

Gasps and whispers fill the crowd, your mom trying to reach out for you but you are gone. Long strides propel you down the aisle, once around the corner and away from the guests you take off running. Past Mitch who is bouncing Elise. Past Amalie who is trying to distract the twins. Past Oliver who cries out for you as Kathy holds him so he can’t chase after you.

Opening the door you don’t know what you expect. But it is not (Y/N) naked on the floor, her dress haphazardly thrown in a pile on the floor. Her head between her legs as she takes deep breaths. Her cries the only thing you hear.

Your stomach churns as you watch the site unfold in front of you. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, your heart breaks into a million pieces. Carlee shooting you a soft half smile before wordlessly slipping out around you.

You hear his dress shoes click on the polished floor. He can feel the pain rolling off you in waves long before he reaches you. Sighing he slides onto the floor beside you crossing his ankles. He doesn’t say anything, watching your chest heave, listening to your strangled sobs. He glances over at you. You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head but you refuse to meet his eyes.

Too frozen, too afraid of what you might see. What you have caused. You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, but he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t touch you. He sits. Silently. Uncomfortably, Heart breaking as every second ticks on, but he knows you need time.

Finally your tears begin to subside, the walls pulling back from around you. Your knees bent and arms curled around them you take an uneasy breath mustering the strength to stare at Fred who has yet to move.

Your eyes flick to meet his deep brown orbs, they are glazed over, the tears pricking his eyes yet to fall. He stares down at his feet taking some uneasy exhales waiting to see if his life is about to unravel in front of him. His face is a blanket of panic and fear and it bruises your heart.

You see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused and you immediately crumble yet again. Your head falls onto his shoulder, the touch startling him. He closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch before taking a deep breath. Without thinking he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight to his chest, worried this is the last time. That if he lets go he’ll never get to hold you again.

One hand tightly grips your arm his other gently stroking up your cool skin. You continue to sob against his chest, but relax against him. You feel him exhale because you didn’t recoil from his touch. The silence in the room is ominous certainly loaded with meaning.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor with him “you still want to be with me?” he hesitantly asks. Hearing him say those words breaks you. It’s not the words themselves, it’s the absolute despair and heart break he tries to hide but even still you hear the fracture in his words.

“Do you actually think that?” you whisper.

“Up until five minutes ago I had no doubts at all. Then Allie comes barreling towards me and I find you sitting in your underwear, your dress in a pile on the floor. Now I don’t know what to think.” The strain in his voice trying not to let it crack tears your heart in two and sends warm tears barreling down your cheeks.

You choke on your tears, pulling your eyes up to meet his. The look on his face nearly kills you, inadequacy, rejection, humiliation. The silence hangs thick in the air, a gentle thumb wipes the tears that have stained your cheeks. You smile lightly at his actions. As he sits there waiting to find out if you are about to break his heart he still is putting you and your needs first.

“Is this a Cody situation?” he whispers.

“What?” you say a little too harshly.

“Your ex”

“I know who Cody is Fred” you groan.

“You once told me you didn’t know why but you couldn’t commit to him that something was missing. When the time came for you to decide you couldn’t do it. Is this” he trails off trying to find the strength, but you don’t know if it’s to ask the question or for the answer. “Is this like that?”

“No. I love you Freddie so much” you whisper unsure if you can use your full voice.

“What’s going on babe” he asks softly thumb gently stroking over your cheek. Your bottom lip trembles as you struggle to find the words before you finally choke out“my parents.”

You watch him exhale the breath he has been holding onto for the past few minutes. His shoulders relaxing slightly but he still keeps you tight to him. His arms had never felt better wrapped around you. Holding you safe.

You have had a pit in your stomach for months, but you tried to push it aside. You have known since you were 12 that you had to do this on your own. You weren’t going to call your mom and facetime her minutes after accepting the proposal. Your dad wouldn’t cry when he saw you for the first time in your dress, your mom wouldn’t watch on during the father daughter dance.

You have been telling yourself it’s normal, that these feelings are to be expected but on the actual day you thought excitement would supersede your anxiety. But now you are wrecked with nerves and you just know you can’t do it. You can’t stand at the altar, with two empty chairs in the front row staring back at you. Seats that shouldn’t be empty, seats where your parents should be sitting.

Neither one of you says anything, Fred allowing you to cry against his smooth suit fabric. He feels your body slowly begin to relax, your sobs becoming less strangled but he doesn’t say anything giving your arm a soft squeeze. The soft thudding of his heart helps to slow yours down, calming you down.

“I’m sorry” you say faintly.

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now” he hums pressing his lips softly to your temple. You melt into his touch and instantly felt all the tension he had been holding escape.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard” you sigh. “I thought I could make it through today, I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“You didn’t think you’d miss your parents on your wedding day” he laughs lightly.

“I don’t know” you groan. “I thought I would be too busy to think about them, with everything going on. But now all I can think about is them; how they aren’t here.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asks knowing this didn’t start today.

“For a while” you mumble “first happened when I tried on dresses.”

You spent twenty minutes having a breakdown in the dressing room over the fact that your mom wasn’t there. That she didn’t get to be a part of the experience with you. You had long known she wouldn’t be there but that day sitting in the dress you fell apart. You told your friends you spent the time trying on dresses that you instantly knew were no’s and that’s why you were in there for so long. There have been a few times since then, but that was the first moment you truly missed her.

“You want to run” he asks causing you to snort slightly. “We don’t have to get married smuk. We have four kids and two houses. You already are my wife; I don’t need some piece of paper that says that. Just need you.”

“No Fred” you laugh for the first time all day. “I want to marry you, I just…I need a minute to miss my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere” your head falls onto his chest listening to the soft beating of his chest. The light thud against your ear slowly soothes you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease.

Finally you smile at him “I am so happy I have you.”

He leans forward to gently press his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft and hesitant. A kiss that tastes and feels like home making your arms wrap around him as you sink into the kiss. “I love you” he mumbles against your lips as he captures his breathe before returning his lips to yours.

His hand squeezes your arm tightly as he groans against you tongue sliding back inside your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair gently tousling the curls as the kiss becomes more heated. Fred is the first to pull away breathless, lips covered in your lipstick.

“I’m ready now” you say capturing your breath.

“Sure you don’t need another minute” he smirks pulling your face forward for another heated kiss. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hand gently raking through his scruffy beard.

“So if it’s bad luck to see each other on the wedding day, what do you think kissing is?” he laughs against your lips.

“Let’s go” you rise to your feet pulling him up. Feet firmly planted on the ground you finally feel grounded. He pulls you back into his chest your arms tangling behind his jacket and he presses one last kiss to your forehead. The two of you stand there for a few minutes before you pull back. “You have lipstick all over your face” you tease.

“You’re naked and late to the ceremony” he quips back. “See you down there babe” he presses his lips back to yours before slipping back out the door.

“For years I’ve watched guys stare at their families through the glass, smiling at their wives and doing some pregame ritual with their kids. I never realized just how jealous I was of them until I saw you on the other side.”

You smile at Fred, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, warm sun shining on you. The pond is your back drop a low chirping of birds and rustling of trees can be heard. Even though you saw Fred not too long ago, walking down the aisle was the first time you managed to take him in. Swathed in smooth navy, his hair slicked back, sun reflecting off his red hair. Everything you could have imagined in life standing a few feet away. Your hands gently resting in his as he recites his vows, you having just finished yours.

“When I saw you there bouncing Oliver in your arms I knew I wanted you there for every game. That I need you to be there every game. Feelings I thought were gone were suddenly awakened seeing you with our son. I knew I could have everything I ever wanted in life all I had to do was yes to love…and get you to agree.”

You roll your eyes and a few members of the wedding party chuckle but he continues on unfazed. “You are so funny and always able to make me laugh. But I don’t love you because you are funny or smart or kind, I love you because you are my best friend. I love how when you smile you get these cute crinkles by the corner of your eyes and the dimples in your cheeks. How when your favourite song comes on you will involuntarily start dancing while you cook dinner or make yourself a tea. That when you are truly happy your face lights up with the purest of radiance.”

You hear some commotion to the side cutting Fred off. You and try to ignore it, Fred clearing his throat when it gets louder. A smirk crosses both your faces glancing to the side to see Noah fussing. Fred opens his mouth but is cut off by a loud shriek followed by a “momma.” In typical fashion Lucas picks up on the fussiness of his twin and begins to squirm joining in the crying.

“They missed their nap today” Fred explains causing everyone to chuckle. Your eyes glance to the side and you see Charlotte and Ernst trying to soothe the two of them before bringing your gaze back to Fred. There is a sparkle in his eye with a wide grin spread across his face as the twins begins to calm down.

Clearing his throat he goes to start again “I can’t imagine my life without you” he starts but is quickly cut off by their cries again.

“One sec” you take a few steps and pull Noah into your arms. As you grab him Lucas is quick to call out “momma” and make an up motion with his fists. Shaking your head you pull him on to your other hip bouncing the two of them they begin to calm down as you return to Freddie. He quickly pulls Lucas from you, his head falling onto his dad’s shoulder relaxing against him.

Placing a quick kiss on his forehead and brushing some of Noah’s stray hairs he curls up on against you. “Okay ready” you smile taking your one free hand to grip his.

“I love that you are an amazing mother” he laughs bringing a hand up to Noah’s cheek brushing away the few tears that fell. “You are a fierce protective mother, and always put the kids first. Almost to a fault sometimes” he glances towards the boys who are standing up at the altar with you, not with their grandparents a few feet away. A large smile spreads across your face but you don’t care. The past few years your lives have been centered around being a family, and having them up there with you for this feels right.

“I had no idea when I met you that you were going to implode my life, but in the most amazing way possible. But now I can’t imagine a day without you. Standing here with you there isn’t a single thing I would change because it all led me to this point. I only went out for a drink and I got a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

He turns his attention to Lucas and places a soft kiss on his forehead. He has since calmed down and is resting against Fred, his eyes getting heavy. Turning back to you he smiles as Noah sleeps against your shoulder and chuckles. “Can’t believe all this happened because two people got drunk.”

“Geez” you laugh rolling your eyes as a few of the guest’s chuckle in response.

“(Y/N)” the officiant says “repeat after me. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you Frederik, to be my husband. I promise I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will continue to share my life with you and build our dreams together. I will love you and honour you, and be by your side for the good and the bad times, as long as we live.”

Taking a deep breath you smile at the man standing in front of you. One arm is holding your tired son, the other is holding onto Fred’s free hand “Jeg (Y/N) (Y/L/N) tager dig Frederik. at være min mand.”

He takes a deep sigh hearing you repeat the words back in Danish. It’s something you have been planning and working towards over the last couple months, trying to embrace this part of his life, your children’s life. Charlotte was eager to help you while she was visiting and you have been working on it since then. You sat down with her a few nights ago to repeat it one more time and she told you it was perfect. That you finally got the few words you have been struggling to pronounce.

“Jeg lover, at jeg vil være tro mod dig og være ærlig over for dig; Jeg vil respektere, stole på, hjælpe og passe på dig. Jeg vil fortsætte med at dele mit liv med dig og bygge vores drømme sammen. Jeg vil elske dig og ære dig og være ved din side til gode og dårlige tider, så længe vi lever.”

As soon as you finish he steps forward and his lips gently brushing against yours. It’s a soft and brief kiss but his hand lands on your hip to keep you close. His tongue traces along your lip, as your mouth opens. Before he can slide his tongue in you hear laughter from the guests. But it’s Oliver announcing “daddy is kissing mommy” that makes you laugh into the kiss and pull away.

“You’re ridiculous” you mumble softly and Fred just shrugs it off smiling wide to you.

Your hand trembles slightly sliding the ring on his finger, partially from the excitement that he is now your husband, but also because it’s slightly more difficult with a baby sleeping in your arms. Once it’s finally on his finger he laces his hands with yours and takes a step closer, minimizing the gap. His eyes drop to your lips, but this time he waits for the minister to tell him to kiss you. He glances slightly to his right before back to you, his tongue licking his lips slightly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife...again”

Before he even gets the words out Fred ducks down to bring you in for a kiss. Unlike the last one this is full of passion and heat. He slides his tongue in swiping across the inside of your cheek while his free hand finds the small of your back. You groan into the kiss bringing your free hand up to his beard. Your tongues continue to fight for dominance, and you begin to feel heat hit your cheeks.

You never imagined your wedding day kiss would be so heated. Thinking of all the people staring you chuckle lightly and pull away from him, foreheads still touching. Fred has a wide smile as he closes the gap once again, this time for a soft and brief kiss.

Everyone has wide grins on their faces, laughter filling the room around you. Multiple conversations are happening at every table, Fred chatting with Auston and Mitch while you are sitting, watching people enjoy themselves and having an amazing time. Fred’s chair is right beside yours, one hand resting on the tulle that covers your bottom half, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Scanning around the room you smile taking in your friends and family, alcohol and laughter coursing through them.

Suddenly you hear a shriek and look out to see Lucas with orange juice staining his white shirt. Charlotte is quickly making work with some napkins to try and clean him, but you know it’s no use, the stain unlikely to come out.

“It’s not a big deal” Fred says into your ear.

“I don’t care" you smile turning your attention to Fred.

“You don’t care?” he repeats almost baffled.

“Why would I?” you move closer and breathe in his cologne, your hand landing on his thigh. “We have kids, they spill things, besides that shirt won’t fit him in a couple months anyways. And I’m married to the most amazing man, we have the most amazing kids. All of our friends and family are here, nothing else matters.”

“Almost everyone” he corrects brushing his lips to your temple. “What would they be doing if they were here?”

Taking a sigh you turn to him with a tear lining your eye. “Dad would always have a beer in his hand, walking around talking to everyone. Be the life of the party, laughing with anyone because if he didn’t he’d break down over his daughter getting married.”

“And your mom" he laughs taking a small sip of whiskey.

“She would always have one of the kids in her hands. You wouldn’t see her once without them. She’d hold Ollie and be out on the dance floor with him, rocking E to sleep, and constantly be playing with the twins to get them to laugh. She’d probably miss the cake cutting or a speech so encapsulated with them.

The only thing she wouldn’t miss is the father daughter dance. She’d watch the whole thing tears rolling down her cheeks.” You laugh slightly pulling back some tears.

“They would have loved you” you turn to Fred smiling.

“Yeah? The guy who got their daughter drunk and pregnant after one night?” he laughs.

“Well maybe not at first” you chuckle. “Dad would have hated you then, been an absolute dick to you. Even once we started dating he still would have been short with you, my mom would have had to talk to him. He reluctantly would have invited you golfing to appease both of us but he’d make it known he was only doing this for us and he wasn’t going to have a good time. Then he would see what I see and the two of you would become best friends.

He’d always have your favourite whiskey in the bar, ready and waiting for you. He’d go golfing and play tennis with you on weekends, tell you that you are barbequing wrong“ you say laughing lightly.

“Wish I got to meet them elskede" his lips gently brush against yours.

“Me too" you turn back to the scene unfolding, curling into his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. “Me too.”

“Oh my god that is just the cutest thing ever” Steph says staring onto the dance floor. Turning your attention over you see a few couple scattered around dancing before finding what she is talking about. Fred holding your daughter against his chest and you see his lips moving, him whispering to her as she sleeps in his arm, moving with the beat of the song.

You grin wide looking out, leaning against the bar behind you “I know he makes my ovaries explode” you groan as you feel of wetness go straight to your core.

“Watch it or you’ll make baby number five” she adds and you through your head back laughing.

“No, there will be no baby number five” you laugh. “But when he does shit like that it becomes hard for me to not want another.”

“Just wait until he sees your lingerie later he’ll be saying the same thing” Steph smirks winking at you.

Groaning you turn around to face the bar to order a drink while you continue to talk to her. The lights brighten slightly and you hear the DJ say something about a change of pace before feeling the bass vibrate under your feet.

“What are you ladies talking about” Fred asks as you turn around to find him, Auston and Mitch joining you by the bar.

“You guys having baby number 5” Steph teases and Fred chokes on his drink while Auston’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god I said there will be no baby number 5” you laugh as Fred pulls you into his side, relaxing his grip. “We were actually talking about your girlfriend Maddie” you look to Auston.

The two of them have barely been dating for 6 months; Fred told you he is actually crazy about her, never having seen him like this with a girl. He told you Auston deleted all his dating apps and hookups phones numbers within weeks of meeting her and Fred thinks she could be someone serious for him.

He waited a bit to introduce her to the team and bring her to a game. She is a little more reserved and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with this part of his life, but this is the first time she has been around a large group of players at once.

“Wondering when it will be your wedding” you deflect some of the attention off you and onto him. His cheeks heat up and he shifts on his feet with a smirk on his face.

“It’s a little soon for that” he says softly but a part of you doesn’t believe it. He has basically been attached to her all day, constantly pulling her onto the dance floor, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Stop teasing him, he’s in love” Mitch teases.

“Fucking hate you guys” he mumbles.

“Elise and the twins are heading to bed, Ollie says he hasn’t had cake yet so he won’t go” Fred whispers in your ear. He grips your hand and pulls you over to the kids to say goodnight and goodbye, not seeing them until you return from the honeymoon.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you today, but you are absolutely breathtaking” he murmurs in your ear pulling you back against his chest. You just spent the last few minutes with Oliver spinning him on the dance floor, his laughter almost louder than the music. The lights have been dimmed; mostly it’s the warm glow from the twinkling lights and candles illuminating the space.

“You might have mentioned it once or twice” you turn your head to glance at him.

“Once or twice” he presses his lips to your temple “I need to up my game.”

Leaning back your head rests against his chest watching Oliver lead Mitch to the treat table to grab another cupcake. “You know for someone who never stopped pestering me about her wedding band, you haven’t even looked at it.”

“Oh” you realize. “I guess nothing really matters except the fact that I’m married to you” you smile.

You raise your hand and turn your attention to examine the rose gold band resting around your finger. There are multiple tiny diamonds evenly spaced around the band, shimmering back at you in the light.

“Oh it’s beautiful” you gasp examining the band, spinning it on your finger. Something about it looks familiar but you can’t place it.

“Mhm” he hums. “Recognize it?”

You stop fidgeting the ring and try to think of the one Charlotte has, maybe he had one designed to be similar to it. But her band is gold, and doesn’t have the number of stones placed on it. And you know it isn’t your grandmothers. Her wedding band is the one her mother managed to keep hidden during WWII, it’s a simple gold band with one small stone. But somehow this ring feels very familiar.

After a few minutes you finally sigh and turn your head back to look at him. There is a few beads of sweat in his hair line, only wearing his dress shirt having discarded everything else a while ago due to the heat. The top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, his chain visible on his hard chest.

“No I don’t” you say eyes trained on his.

“It was your moms” he says softly and you feel tears hit the back of your eyes threatening to spill out.

“What?” you choke out turning around in his embrace.

“Your grandmother offered it to me the day I asked them for permission” he explains, hands resting on the small of your back. You bring your hand back up into your view as you other tangles around his back, grabbing a chunk of his fabric.

“You’re dad had good taste” he says leaning down to press his lips to your forehead and a few stray tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you-“ you choke on your tears sniffling against him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Seriously? I was so happy when she offered it to me There was no way I wasn’t going to give you this ring. ” He gently brings a hand to yours lacing his fingers with yours and gently spins the band around your finger with his thumb.

“I wish they were here babe but this ring is a part of them. It represents their love, their marriage and their family. I can’t think of a better wedding band for my wife. Every time you look at it you will think of me and my love for you but also the love they shared.”

Your tears continue to fall as he tightens his arms around you. A slow song has begun to play and he slowly rocks the two of you to the beat, holding both of your hands against his chest. He hums the tune, his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

Standing tangled in his arms you have never felt so at ease. You realize that as long as you have Fred, you have everything you will ever need. Everything in life will be okay, and even if it isn’t somehow everything will sort itself out.

“Why don’t you put me down” you giggle as Fred struggles with the key. It’s not a typical key card it is an actual key and he is fumbling to unlock the door while your arms are wrapped around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night, I’m going to carry you over the threshold” he mumbles finally getting the key in.

“So traditional” you smirk pressing your lips to his neck, sucking soft marks under the collar of his shirt. His bow tie was long discarded and top couple buttons released.

“Be a lot easier if you weren’t distracting me” he groans as you gently nip his skin. You chuckle lightly hearing the door unlock as the heavy wood frame creaks open. Stepping inside he kicks his shoes off and the door softly closes behind him. He carries you into the living room of the honey moon suite and you pull back turning your head.

The low flickering of the candles on every surface capturing your eye. Next you see the countless bouquets of flowers, your favourite flowers, scattered around the room. He lets you take it in for a few minutes before bringing you into the bedroom. There is a selection of chocolate covered strawberries and other fruit with champagne waiting on the dresser. A rose petal heart on the bed and he quickly drops you on it, petals scattering around the white duvet.

“You do all this?” you ask softly.

“It’s the honey moon suite babe, I think they just do this” he smirks.

“Uh-huh. And the flowers? They just knew these are my favourite and brought in easily a dozen bouquets.”

“Thirty one” he corrects crawling over to you. “They did the candles, champagne and stuff but I may have called the florist last week about the flowers. For the record they would like more than a weeks’ notice to fulfill this along with the wedding bouquets, centre pieces and everything else. Might have paid a lot for these” he smirks “but you’re worth it.”

“One bouquet wasn’t enough?”

“Nope” he grins as a hand finds the back of your neck pulling you towards him. His lips brush against yours hooking an arm around your back he slowly drops you to the bed, hovering over you he closes the gap with a wide grin on his lips. You moan against him, tongue tracing along his lower lip your hands find his dress shirt grabbing a fist full of fabric. His jacket and vest being long discarded.

Your hand moves to the front of his shirt, giving it a tug to free it from his dress pants. “Someone’s eager” he groans as your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly releasing them.

“I’m just excited to have sex with my husband” you grin emphasizing the word.

“Husband” he smirks against your lips “I like that.”

He pulls away rising to his knees and takes over the buttons of his shirt. He slowly pops the buttons revealing more skin, your eyes wandering over his bare chest. Dragging the fabric off his arms he discards it in a pile in the corner. Next his belt clanks against the wood floor, and he is off the bed. He pushes his pants down his legs tossing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him in just boxers.

Your eyes rake over his body, taking in every curve of his muscle. Taking a deep breaths your hips voluntarily arch up towards him. He grips your wrist pulling you onto your feet and spins you around “This dress looks amazing on you" he hums in your ear.

“Believe it or not it looks better off" you moan.

“Oh baby I know it does" his hands gently rub up and down your arms. His mouth is gently nipping the skin on your neck, his words sending an electric current straight to your core. His large fingers not in a hurry, slowly popping the button. You feel him fumble around your back struggling to undo the small buttons before dragging the zipper down your back.

His hands find your shoulders, gently pressing the straps down your skin but you step away from him. “I have something” you explain walking to the bags in the corner.

You pull out a small bag and Fred immediately knows what is waiting underneath the white tissue. “Save that for tomorrow” he pulls the handle from you dropping it on the floor.

“But I bought it for tonight” you whine.

“Baby I know you are going to look phenomenal in whatever lingerie is in that bag. But honestly I don’t want to wait for you to get changed only to have to take it off two minutes later, that’s two minutes of me not fucking you.”

He ducks his head down, warm air ghosting over your neck “and baby all I want to do tonight is fuck my wife.”

Hearing him call you that almost makes your knees buckle, heat rapidly building in your core. You too want nothing more than to feel his cock stretching you out. “I’m wearing it tomorrow night” you command.

“Look forward to it” his fingers return to your shoulders pressing the fabric down your body. A mess of blush tulle landing at your feet and you step out of it. Fred bends down to grip the back of your legs but you stop him picking up your dress to hang on the back of a chair “it’s expensive “ you shrug.

Once in front of him you push him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he slowly falls back. You drop to your knees in front of his quirking an eyebrow while your fingers toy with his elastic band. You can see the large bulge tenting his boxers making a fire ignite in your core. As you pull the fabric down he lifts his hips slightly his thick member slapping against his stomach.

Your moth waters staring at his throbbing cock, precum dripping form the tip. “Fuck” he groans as your lips wrap around him, tongue cleaning the sticky liquid from his tip.

Your tongue swipes up the vein on the underside of his shaft and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head. Soon you begin bobbing on him taking more and more each time, your hands gently stroking up his thighs.

You swirl your tongue around him, your nose pressing into his pelvis. Your eyes stay locked on his, watching as his snap shut and he takes a few uneasy breaths. Digging your freshly manicured nails into his thigh his hips buck up, tip resting against the back of your throat.

“Babe” he whispers, unable to use his full voice. Although quiet you hear but you don’t stop continuing to bob up and down on his long member.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he says more firmly as one hand begins to gently massage his balls. “You can’t do that.”

He pushes you off him, saliva dribbling down your chin and a pout crossing your face.

“Why?” you pout “I want to suck my husband’s dick.”

He swallows hard at your bluntness, eye lids fluttering. You shoot him an innocent look, squeezing your breasts together between your arms and batting your eyelids to him. Shaking his head he grips your wrist and pulls you harshly onto the bed.

You land hard on the mattress and he quickly rolls over you spreading your knees with his thick thigh. He manipulates you to raise your hips, pulling the remaining piece of fabric, thin white lace, down your legs. “Because baby I want to do this.”

You gasp loudly as two of his fingers find your folds, gently playing with your entrance. He moans feeling how wet you are, wet and full of need, waiting for him. You smile against his touch and his lips gently press into your temple.

“You’re soaked eh” he smirks sliding his two fingers over your heat, coating them in your juices. Before you can respond they part your folds and sink in. His thumb presses into your clit while his fingers begin to fuck in and out of you at a slowly building pace.

“Fred” your entire body squirms at the feeling and you hear a quiet dark chuckle against your neck. His mouth begins to place warm open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, before finding your breasts. He licks over the orb before sliding his tongue between the valley of them before sucking on your nipple. You slide your hands over his bicep, your feather like touch making his fingers curl into your G-spot.

“I’m gonna cum” you warn feeling the slow build low in your stomach.

“That’s the whole point” he smirks increasing his pace.

“Not fair” you whine at the fact you couldn’t take him to completion but he isn’t going to stop until you do.

“Want me to stop?” he teases popping his head up to look into your eyes.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your lower lip being pulled through your teeth. In an attempt to answer you only muster a need filled whimper and he just quirks an eyebrow in response continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressing harshly into your clit.

“Good” his lips land on your cheek before finding your collarbone. He nips the skin, dragging his tongue along you “this is my favourite part” he muses.

You tilt your head slightly and he pulls back, dark brown eyes finding yours. He gives you a wink and the coil in your stomach is now tightly bound. A few final thrusts, you chanting his name through breathless pants and it snaps. Pure euphoria floods your veins, toes curling as he slows slightly to draw out your orgasm.

He groans when your nails anchor hard into his back but doesn’t stop, working you through it as warmth spills down his wrist. You’re vision begins to clear, the orgasmic haze lifting. Finally he stops keeping his fingers buried deep inside you but allows your fog to settle.

“I’m so happy I get to do this every day” his lips press to the corner of your mouth “make you fall apart on my fingers,” he places a soft kiss to your jaw slowly takes his finger out of your slick heat. “With my tongue,” he moves to suck on your earlobe and you whimper slightly.

He shifts his weight and his hard member pokes at your entrance. His voice is low and husky and he only pulls away briefly “or around my cock.” A loud gasp tumbles through your lips as he easily slides inside your walls, your juices providing an easy lubricant.

Slowly pulling back he brings his lips to your ears. “The best part though” he growls in your ear “I get to do it with my wife.” His hips snap hitting your cervix in conjunction with his words. Foreheads pressed together and lips ghosting over yours as he begins to rock into you.

A loud groan falls from your lips, they vibrate in your core and your nails scrape along his back, harshly digging into his skin. He adopts a slow and steady rhythm, hitting you deep with each thrust before dragging himself out to do it again. His head drops and he places a soft kiss against your lips. Along your jaw. On your neck. On your breasts.

His mouth is everywhere and you are turning into a mess under him.

Neither of you are in a hurry, relishing in the feeling. It’s not a new experience, you under him, leg wrapped around his waist as he loves you. But tonight it’s different.

Your first time married.

First time with your husband.

And because of that it hits different.

Your hands snake around his neck, tilting his head to pull him closer. His mouth quickly finds yours while you roll your hips up to meet his. He groans at your movements continuing to drive into you a hand finding your breast. He begins to gently massage your orb, rolling the nipple through his fingers his tongue swiping inside your cheeks.

You whimper into his mouth and he buries his hips against yours in response. Each thrust is deep and calculated, as he slowly drags his cock back. He almost pulls out completely but drops back into you, his tip pressing against your cervix.

He has you right where he wants you, teetering on the edge. Your heel digs into his back and you feel his lips curl upwards against you “let go for me baby” he mumbles before bringing you back in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

Soon he pulls back slightly, lips hovering above yours. Grunts and moans fill the room as you both approach your highs.

“Gå videre baby slip. jeg har dig” he coos in your ear (go ahead baby, I got you). Almost if on cue your second orgasm crashes over you. Still reeling from your first it’s intense and your entire body erupts with tiny flames. Limbs are tingling, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips.

He continues to mumble into your ear but you can’t focus on anything. His deep voice fades into the background as you shudder under him. Upon feeling your walls flutter around him Fred begins to feel his release. Giving you a final few thrusts he spills coating your insides with everything he has.

He collapses on you, his head landing on your shoulder. Coming down from your high you can feel some warm cum spilling around his cock and down the inside of your thighs. But the two of you continue to lay there, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

Finally the two of you have partially recaptured your breaths and he pushes himself off of you. Sweat is dripping from his roots glistening on his forehead but instead of pulling away me mumbles into the crook of your neck peppering kisses along your collarbone.

“I love you so much” he smiles. “My wife.”

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us" you laugh as Fred wheels the tray of food to beside the bed. There are plates of bacon and hash browns, scrambled eggs, a gigantic tower of pancakes and a few bowls of fruit.

You take one of the cups of coffee bringing it your lips, the faint hazelnut smell filling the air around you. Before you can take a sip there is a knock on the door.

With a soft grin he presses his lips to your temple and walks away. You sit silently trying to guess who is at the door when suddenly you hear the light pitter patter of Oliver’s feet followed by one of the twins light squeal.

You set your cup down just in time for Oliver to jump on the bed and wrap his arms around your neck as he tells you about his sleepover with Amalie last night. You help Lucas onto the bed when Fred rounds the corner with Noah and Elise tight to his chest. He quickly drops Noah onto your legs.

“My babies" you laugh pulling all three boys in for kisses on their cheeks. Fred sets Elise in the middle of the bed and begins cutting some food for the kids.

“What are you doing here?” you ask tickling Oliver. He squeals with excitement unable to capture his breath.

“We’re having breakfast” Ollie laughs.

“Figured you’d want to see them for a few hours before I whisk you away on our honeymoon. Get in some last minute snuggles" Fred explains as you release your toddler so he can take his breakfast from his dad.

Noah curls into your lap and you rest your chin on his head, holding him tight against your chest. Before you can reply Lucas climbs in beside him and you wrap your other arm around him.

“This is perfect” you say as Noah begins to whine, Lucas invading his space. Elise begins to cry and Oliver is talking a mile a minute about all the fun he had last night.

“This is perfect" Fred jokes setting the plate of food for the twins down and grabbing Elise to try and soothe her. “I can barely hear myself think" he laughs kissing her forehead bouncing her in his arms “it’s chaos.”

“Yeah but it’s our chaos” you smile pressing a soft kiss on both of your twins foreheads.

***

“(Y/N)” you hear Fred softly call out to you. “Were almost there.”

His lips press against your cheek and your eyes slowly flutter open. Reaching out he grasps your hand and helps you sit while you reach out to stretch.

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the plane, having fallen asleep but you are happy to know you will soon be getting off and can properly stretch your legs. You tried to get Fred to tell you where you’re going about twenty times, but he refused any information, not even giving you hints.

“Where are we" you push the blanket off your body as the seat rises back up. Taking the blanket from you he reaches over to grab the sun shade from the window and pulls it up “take a look.”

Excitement washes over you and you eagerly turn your head to look out. You blink a few times unsure if it’s from the sunlight flooding in, or if it’s shock unsure you are actually seeing the skyline through the glass.

“You didn’t” you gasp.

“Mhm" he hums pressing his chest against your back. Warm lips hit your neck for a soft kiss before he pulls back lips ghosting over your ear “you always said you wanted to go here, seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

You manage to pry your eyes and turn your face slightly to meet him “I can’t believe you did this" you say softly. His lips gently brush against yours “I’d do anything for my wife.”

***

Authors Note: This is the final chapter of this series, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading it, this story started as the first thing i ever wrote. And it slowly evolved into something.

I wish I could commit to keeping it going but I have been struggling with the story the last few chapters (I always had the plan it was the getting pen to paper). So that is why I decided to end it, my original outline only had 31 chapters though so I’m glad I was able to expand on it.

#because two people got drunk #because two people got drunk fic #frederik andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl smut #NHL Fic

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weallsimpfordabi · 3 years

Text

Switching Sides (Part Three)

Find the other parts here

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support 🥺 I really do appreciate it! Also, the next chapter will be some fluff and then it’s gonna get crazy from there, so I hope you’re ready for all that! 😇

Pairing: Dabi x Reader, Ex!Bakugou x Reader

Word Count: 1,933

Warnings: SMUT, jealous ex boyfriend, cursing, yelling, choking, fingering, bruising, oral (male receiving )

Tag List: @platinumbelle @sweet-bunny-writing @bunbunsblog

———

Of all things you could wake up to, Katsuki looking through your phone with a hurt and confused expression was not one of them. You hoped to your core that you were still dreaming, but he noticed your eyes opening and looked right at you. Your heart dropped, not sure what you should do in this moment. He looked so angry, which was normal, but there was also pain in his eyes. You slowly sat up, keeping your eyes on his. You reached for your phone, but his large hands wrapped around it completely and squeezed, and that’s when you knew you were absolutely busted and most likely screwed. You had hoped the day off you got because of some maintenance would be peaceful, but of course, probably the worst thing had to happen instead.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” He bore his eyes into yours, making you feel as if you were shrinking right in front of him. You felt the back of your throat start to burn as tears threatened your eyes. You shook your head, putting on a confused look, hoping he would let it go. He growled, standing up from the bed. “Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re one of the smartest people I know! How could you go out and even consider associating with one of...them?” The last word fell from his lips like poison. You stood as well, stumbling over the words that refused to come out.

“‘S-Suki, what are you talking about? I’m not...doing anything.” You tried to lie, but you already knew Bakugou was the absolute last person you could do that to. He quickly unlocked your phone once again, showing you your texts with Dabi. You immediately felt sick, he really had figured it out.

“Are you seriously hanging out with one of the people that want to kill us? I mean, for fucks sake!” He threw your phone against the wall, making you jump. Your hands started to shake as anxiety set it. He knew, and you were fucked.

“I swear it isn’t like that, ‘Suki.”

“Then tell me how it is! How am I supposed to believe you when you won’t even tell me what the hell is going on!” You looked up at him, your shaky hand reaching up to his cheek. He jerked his head away, glaring at you. You recoiled your hand back to your body, crossing your arms.

“I can’t. I can’t tell you, because if I do, we’ll all be in danger. You’ll just have to trust me on this one, okay?” He suddenly got very quiet, looking away. He then swung his arm, an angry shout following it as he slammed his fist into the wall beside him, leaving a deep hole. Both of you were now breathing heavily, and you looked at him in shock. That vein on his forehead popped out, and you knew you were about to get screamed at.

“What if the teachers find out? You could be expelled! Or arrested for being an accessory! Fucking idiot! Why are you jeopardizing your future as a pro for someone like that?” He looked at you, and that’s when you noticed his eyes were glazed over. He was suddenly deep in thought, keeping his eyes on your face. Then, something hit him. He scoffed quietly, biting his lip, contemplating his next move. He then wrapped his free hand around your neck, staring daggers into you. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was enough to let you know that he was upset and wanted your attention. His eyes narrowed, the darkness behind them being fueled by his jealousy.

“Are you telling me that you think a fucking villain is better than me? I guess I need to remind you of a few things, teddy bear.” His voice had become gravelly, sending familiar shivers to your core. You furrowed your brows, his change in attitude almost giving you whiplash. But, at the same time, this is Bakugou and his ego’s been hurt. That’s a recipe for either destruction or, in your case many times in the past, very rough sex. You swallowed thickly, lips parting as your breathing deepened. He pressed his lips to yours forcefully, your breath caught in your throat.

An almost whining moan left his lips, vibrating against yours. Your hand found its way into his hair, fingers curling into those ashy blonde spikes on top of his head. His hand moved from your throat to your hips as he pushed you to the bed. You fell back, looking up at him as he got a devilish grin on his face. You blushed, pulling the hem of his shirt so he fell on top of you. He connected your lips again, his knee pushing between your thighs. He bit your lip, his hand finding its way to your waistband. You whimpered, needing more. He moved his lips to your neck, biting down before sucking on the same spot. It hurt, but you both knew you loved it.

He wasted no time, fingers slipping past your underwear and into you. You moaned, head falling back as he continued marking your neck. His fingers curled inside, hitting a spot that made your body tense in a very good way. It was like heaven, being touched this way again. You moaned once more, and he lifted his head to look at you.

“Quiet, teddy bear, don’t want other people to hear you, right?” He covered your mouth with his other hand, the pace of his fingers picking up speed. As much as you wanted to keep quiet, you couldn’t help it. His hand muffled your noises as the pad of his thumb started drawing circles on your clit. Your eyes fluttered slightly as you felt your high coming close already. He noticed the look in your eyes, humming to himself. He pulled his hands away from you, much to your protest. “You don’t get to cum yet, teddy bear.” He started to take off his pants, and you followed suit. He was already hard, watching you undress in front of him. “If you wanna cum on my cock, you have to suck it first.”

You nodded, getting into a comfortable position in front of him before slowly taking him past your lips. He moaned, holding your hair back so he could watch you. You moaned, vibrating your mouth that took him in completely, all the way to your throat. His hips started moving gently with your pace, hissing through his teeth as you hollowed your cheeks to suck harder. Your name fell from his lips like honey, and it only made you want to keep going. He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair while he watched you.

“Your mouth feels so good and warm, baby, fuck.” He pulled you off, pushing you back onto the bed. “But I know your pussy feels so much better. Fuck waiting, I wanna feel you get all tight around me.” He kissed you deeply, positioning himself at your entrance. You wrapped your legs around him, and he took the opportunity immediately, slowly pushing himself into you. You both moaned together, his muffled by him burying his face into your neck.

His pace was slower than you thought it would be. It was like he was milking the moment for every single thing he could. He wrapped his hand around your neck again, rocking his hips against yours. He was slow when he pushed into you until he almost bottomed out, then he shoved the rest of it in, making your head spin.

“Fuck, I miss this.” He whispered against the skin of your neck, right underneath your ear. It made your stomach flutter hearing him be so vulnerable. You scratched down his back, making him arch deeper into you. You had missed this too, you couldn’t lie. It was like coming home after a long day of hard work. You moaned his name, making sure it was right in his ear. He shivered, starting to pick up the pace.

“You think a villain is better than me? You think he can make you cum like I can? Huh? Nobody can fuck you better than me, teddy bear.” He choked you tightly as he slammed into you. It didn’t take long for you both to get your highs. He fucked you hard as you came, making both of you see stars. He collapsed next to you, breathing heavily with shivers interrupting them every so often. As if it was an instinct, he wrapped his arms around you, trying to be as close as possible to you. You bit your lip, letting him hold you for a minute or two before you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s bad timing, but I have to go. If I don’t get to patrols I’ll be in trouble.” You avoided his gaze as you put your clothes back on, quickly leaving the room to go to patrols, just as you said. Though, if he knew you were going to see Dabi, he’d probably lose his mind. As you made your way to the building, you tried to get the hurt look on Katsuki’s face out of your head, not able to deal with the guilt you felt.

———

“Hello, little mouse. You look like you're glowing, I’m happy you’re so excited to see me.” Dabi smirked, making you roll your eyes once again. He walked over to you, brow raised. “Find anything out today?” He moved a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You didn’t flinch this time, though you weren’t really sure why.

“The school let us have a day off today. Apparently they’re fixing something with the security system. That’s all I have. Can I go now?” You turned away, but he grabbed your wrist with enough force to leave a bruise.

“No,” he said darkly, turning you towards him. He grabbed your neck, turning your head so he could see the marks that Katsuki had left on you. He furrowed his brows angrily, looking at you with such a menacing glare that you thought you could just die in that spot. “What’s this, little mouse? You letting somebody fuck you?”

“That is none of your business, Dabi!” You pulled away from him, but he still had a death grip on your wrist.

“You’re mine, baby doll, and that means that if you fuck anybody, it’s me and only me.”

“I don’t even know anything about you! You don’t even know me! You have no idea who I am, and honestly? I’d like to keep it that way. Now let go.” He looked down at your wrist, noticing that the circulation had started to be cut off. He did as you asked, sitting down on the couch. He bit his lip, looking off for a second.

“What do you wanna know?” You looked over, raising a brow.

“What?”

“What do you want to know about me? You could ask a question, and then I’ll do the same. You’re right, we don’t know anything about each other, and that doesn’t make for a very good business partner, does it?” He patted the seat next to him, wanting you to sit next to him. You were about to refuse when you realized that you really didn’t have a choice in this. You groaned softly, sitting down next to him. The scent of cigarettes and some kind of cologne hit you as he leaned back.

“Alright, you first, little mouse. Ask away.”

#angst #dabi is touya #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #smut #x reader #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #dabi #dabi x reader #reader insert #anime #fluff

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tmntgirlie · 4 years

Text

TMNT x Reader

Prompt: It seems that a brother of your S/O has a bone to pick with you

Leonardo’s S/O

You had been dating the Fearless leader for a few months now

As every relationship, you had your ups and downs with Leo, but it generally was a very smooth relationship

You found yourself taking after some of his mannerisms

It took a turn when you began treating his brothers not only like your brothers, but how Leonardo treated them as well

You were a little bossy

Leonardo found it endearing that you mimicked him in that way, but you saw how Donatello now looked at you

He started to ignore you when you walked into the room

It made you uneasy

You didn’t realize how when you talked to them, your tone started to change

When Mikey started calling you ‘Miss Mini Leonardo’, you got the hint

You had been taking it too far

You finally approached Donatello

He refused to look at you

“Look, I know you don’t like me. The least you can do is acknowledge that I exist”

Donnie was not having it

“You fail to realize how you’ve been treating us. You may be dating our brother, but you aren’t him. We don’t need another leader in the family”

His words stunned you

Sure, Mikey had called you a mini Leo, but it finally stuck

You sighed

“I’ve been getting ahead of myself”

“It’s normal to mimic your significant other’s mannerisms, but that doesn’t mean you treat us like he treats us when we’re on duty. Treat us like family. I’m sure Leo feels the same way”

You took his words to heart

In the coming weeks, you caught yourself sounding bossy in front of them

It happened a lot

It didn’t sound right for you to bark orders at them

You caught yourself mid-sentence sometimes, took a deep breath, and changed your tone

Even Leonardo noticed, giving you small glances and smiles as he saw you disciplining yourself

One day, Donatello approached you

“Thank you for listening to me”

All you wanted was for them to like you as much as Leo did

Well, maybe not that much

Raphael’s S/O

Dating Raphael was like a dream

He doted on you, was so affectionate, he truly treated you like his Queen

Well, in isolation at least

Outside of the bedroom, he was mainly possessive of you, wouldn’t let you out of his sight

You noticed Mikey look at the two of you often

He never smiled when he did

You just figured he was jealous, wanted somebody for himself

One day, you finally asked Raph what Mikey’s deal was

He never talked to you

“He thinks you’re taking me away from him”

You take Raph away from Mikey?

You didn’t quite know what to say

After all, Mikey had spent all of his years with Raph

They grew up together, for Gods’ sake

You’ve only been in their lives for a couple months, tops

When you approached Mikey, he tried to act nonchalant about it

“What? I’m not looking at you guys or anything”

Lying through his teeth

But you were stubborn, and you didn’t back down

He finally admitted it

“I like you alright, Y/N, but I feel like you’re changing Raph”

“I’m changing him?”

“He never just wants to play videogames with me anymore or go boarding. He just wants to spend time with you”

As he continued to speak, you could sense something different in his voice

Mikey was scared he’d never have his brother again

Did you really change Raphael that much?

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you just nodded and ran back to Raph’s room

It was basically your room as well now

When you explained to him what Mikey said, you had to hold him back from charging out to talk to Mikey

“Don’t make it worse, please”

“Baby, he thinks you’re changing me. Does he really think you have that much power over me?”

You gave him a look

Yeah, you did have that kind of power over him

Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing

He sighed

“You’re right. Whatever. I guess I have been spending more time with you than with my brothers recently”

That started a conversation on what you and him could do differently

You had basically moved in at that point, so there wasn’t a time where you weren’t glued to his side

You both decided that he needed to detach himself a little from you to spend more time with his brothers

They were his brothers, after all

You respected the fact that in reality, you were just a girlfriend

They were brothers for life

Plus, there were some things you could do for him that his brothers absolutely couldn’t

Donatello’s S/O

Not a day went by that Donatello didn’t pull you into his lab to show you something new he had made

Sure, most of the things weren’t completely groundbreaking, but he usually made them for you

And you absolutely loved them

Oh, the thought that went into these things that he made for you

One day while Don was showing you this new feature he added on your phone, Leo stormed in

He was not a happy camper

He began questioning why Donnie was wasting his time making things for you when he could be doing so much more for his brothers

They had needs for new things, too

Leonardo was used to Donnie reporting everything to him, making things at his request

Now, he was constantly either with you or making something he thought you’d like

Donatello instantly got defensive, saying that everything he made for you, he made some other version for his brothers

He wasn’t picking favorites

But Leonardo was not having it

No, in his mind, brothers needed to come first

Brothers needed the most up-to-date tech and gear for the benefit of the family and New York City’s safety

Yeah, he went there

Brought up the whole safety of the city thing

You didn’t have a single word to say

You had never asked Donnie to make something only for you and not his brothers

Donnie was right- when he made something for you, he made stuff for his brothers as well

Now, we won’t get into the quality of the items

He did sometimes give you the best version over his brothers

That was Leonardo’s problem

The conversation ended with you leaving in tears

Leonardo and Donatello remaining in the lab, death glares flying all over the place

“I’ll create what I please. You may be our leader, but you’re my brother first. Respect my priorities. Just because I love her doesn’t mean I love any of you less”

He had never admitted out loud that he loved you before

Now Leonardo was at a loss for words

He had no idea you guys were in love

In his brain, he somehow thought… Something else

He really thought that you were somehow taking advantage of Donatello and his knack for tech and science

As Donatello continued, Leo caught that that was not the case

You finally came out of your room, eyes still a bit pink and puffy from crying

You really did not like yelling

Leonardo found you and started showering you in apologies

Man, could that turtle apologize

Better than YouTubers really

You accepted his apology, but sternly stated that his tone from earlier was not welcome in your ears

Leonardo nodded

“I think Don is looking for you. Don’t distract him too much”

It was a joke spoken too soon, but you let it go

You knew Donnie could make it better

Michelangelo’s S/O

Dating Michelangelo was like a nonstop party

He was always up for anything you wanted to do

A Marvel movie marathon?

Hell yeah

Playing Mario Kart until you could barely see straight?

Obviously

In the mood to be smothered in love and affection?

Mikey was your guy

You couldn’t think of a time in your life when you felt happier

Every day with Mikey was your new favorite day

A couple weeks into your relationship with the youngest turtle, you noticed one of his brothers scoff when you suggested a new activity for the two of you to try

You tried not to let it get to you, but as the weeks went on, it happened more often

Raphael, it seemed, had a bone to pick with you

At first, you thought it was the fact that you kept Mikey busy playing games with you or trying new recipes

When you offered Raphael a controller to play along, he always said no

Maybe it was just you, but it seemed like Raph flat out didn’t like you

Now, you weren’t the most confrontational person

But this was the best relationship you’d ever had, and damn it, nobody was going to ruin it for you

One day you had offered Raph the controller to play along with you and Mikey

When he said no, as expected, you huffed

“What is your problem with me?”

That was not the right thing to say

Oh, not at all

Raphael absolutely exploded on you

Rambling on about how you were a huge distraction for Mikey, how he was less motivated to train, all he ever wanted to do was spend time with you

Wasting his time with you

You could feel something in the pit of your stomach

You swore you weren’t going to cry

You were surprised when Mikey stood up for you instantly

“What are you talking about, bro? Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Why can’t you just let me be happy for once?”

Raph didn’t say anything

“Our whole lives has been training, staying secluded, staying in the sewers with nobody to talk to but ourselves. Fuck me since now I finally found someone that not only accepts me, but wants to spend time with me and loves me for me”

You hadn’t yet said that you loved him yet, but it was pretty obvious

“Be happy that I found someone to put up with me, bro”

Mikey pulled you closer to him, eyeing his brother in a way you didn’t think was possible for the youngest turtle

Was this his defensive side?

Oh, you liked that

Raphael clicked his tongue

“I guess. Good for you, Mike, finding someone to put up with you that also beats you in Mario Kart”

Mikey scoffed

“She’s just that good. She’d beat you, too!”

Raphael wasn’t having that

He snatched the third player controller and gestured at you to start the race

It definitely took you by surprise, but it really shouldn’t have

These guys were passionate, they were all each other had

You hoped Raphael wouldn’t hold your relationship with his brother against you any longer

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anthrat · 3 years

Text

Frayed Stitches

Kakuzu/Reader

The tears just wouldn’t stop. No matter how hard you tried, how much you forced yourself to push those feelings of anger, sadness and hatred down they wouldn’t leave. They kept rising up, they were a constant threat to your image. You couldn’t let Kakuzu see you like this. You already knew what he’d say.

2243 words

A/N: I actually wrote this instead of writing my linguistics essay so here's to hoping it's actually good hehe :)

A little over a year had passed since you’d joined the Akatsuki, you could scarcely remember what your life had been like before. You’d never achieved much. Running from village to village as a paid assassin, willing to do anyone’s dirty work for as long as they had the money. You had no loyalties, no friends, no comrades, nothing. Your situation wasn’t an especially uncommon one either. On your travels, you’d met hundreds like yourself. Internal strife meant there was always work for people like you, people who thrived off discontent.

Your admission into the Akatsuki had been a reluctant one. Pain himself had scouted you out, requesting you join. You’d initially declined, however, Pain had insisted, coercing you to bet your freedom on a fight. Win and remain free, lose and become tied to an organisation you didn’t care about. Needless to say, you lost the fight. Even now you still didn’t care about the goal of the organisation, heck, you barely knew what it was. You simply did what was asked of you, not wanting to make a fuss. Running away was futile, so you just had to make do with the circumstances.

On your arrival, you’d been introduced to the other members in what you could only describe as the most uncomfortable situation you’d ever been in. Nobody seemed especially enthusiastic to be there, and nobody seemed to care about you joining. The only person who had even attempted to make you feel welcome had been Kisame, he’d given you a toothy grin as he introduced himself, remarking that he looked forward to working alongside you. It was here you were given an insight into the aims of the Akatsuki, at least you think you had been. You’d struggled to focus on what Pain was saying, distracted by the eyes of each member boring into your skull. This was also the moment you were partnered with Kakuzu, or in other words, the moment you were forced into Hell. You’d remembered how the older man had barely batted an eyelid when you were told you’d be partnered together, the way he’d muttered something about how he would be better by himself, his cold eyes piercing your body as he’d threatened to kill you if you got in his way. You had initially dismissed your partner's morbid comment, assuming it was simply a tough-guy act to make himself appear strong in front of the other members. However, before leaving to embark on your first official mission one of the other members had gently placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a toothy grin before whispering something you’d never forget into your ear.

“You're the fifth to be partnered with Kakuzu. Don’t die.”

Your partnership with Kakuzu had been one which could be easily described in one word. Hell. From not caring whatsoever if you were caught in his crossfire, to forcing you to walk for days on end with absolutely no breaks the man was a tyrant, a monster. You found yourself unable to ever completely relax, your body was in a constant state of emergency knowing full well if you let your guard down for even a second that would give Kakuzu the opportunity to strike. Thinking back on those Hellish times you wondered what had kept you going. Death would have been the easy way out, yet you’d persevered and for what? You’d found yourself growing attached to the grumpy old fuck, you hated to admit it but it was true. Recently you’d found your mind drifting when you were around Kakuzu, you no longer felt like he was an immediate threat. You’d been able to learn his attack patterns and formulate battle strategies which benefited you both. You’d been talking with each other more too, although Kakuzu’s answers were always abrupt and uninviting he was at least finally responding. On the rare occasion, Kakuzu himself had even tried to spark a conversation, although it usually revolved around money. Not long ago you’d even cooked together, well… Maybe it was a stretch to call it cooking. It was more like you’d forced him to cut the mushrooms you’d gathered for lunch after he’d spent roughly ten minutes complaining that you were doing it wrong. Watching his skill with the knife had made you wonder why he always refused to cook meals, he was clearly much better than you were. Given his age and experience you always felt like he’d probably find your cooking skills lacklustre, yet he never once complained about your sub-par skills. This had led you to believe the stoic and grumpy ninja had a slight soft side, or maybe he just really didn’t care.

You raked your hands through your hair, trying to steady your own breathing. Why were you thinking about Kakuzu at a time like this? The man who had brought you so much pain and suffering, and yet was the only person you could trust. He was the only person who hadn’t abandoned you. Placing your hands over your mouth you tried to stifle your cries as you doubled over, cowering into your knees. Your whole body convulsed from the pressure of the wrangled sobs which were trying desperately to escape from your body. You wanted nothing more than to just scream, to let your tears flow freely, to remove the constraints you’d placed on your emotions. Yet you couldn’t. Not here, not now. Kakuzu would hear you, he’d see you. You already knew what he’d say. You’d spent so long carefully constructing an image of yourself, an image which portrayed only strength and aggression. One of independence. One which implied you were able to find joy in your solitude, that you were proud of the person you’d become. Yet here you were, crying on the floor of your rented room like a little bitch. If Kakuzu saw you now he’d know it was all a lie, he’d see you for what you really were. A terrified young shinobi who was in way over their head. An incompetent fool who’d been forced to abandon everything. An idiot who couldn’t even take their fate into their own hands. You tried yet again to steady your breathing, squeezing your eyes shut as you scrunched up your face, balling your hands into tight fists and pushing them roughly against your eyes.

“Breathe normally you pathetic fucking bitch” you muttered to yourself, forcing your legs to move out from beneath you. Forcing yourself to stand. You were going to go and have a shower and clean yourself up. After that you’d forget about this tiny little slip-up, you’d completely wipe it from your memory dismissing it as nothing but a silly dream.

“What are you doing?”

You froze. Shit. How had you not heard him return? This is why you couldn’t let your guard down, you’d let yourself grow comfortable and for what? For Kakuzu to stumble upon you at your absolute worst. Maybe you could salvage the situation, he could only see your back after all. Straightening your back, you let out a long fake yawn, stretching your hands up to the ceiling, then dropping them to your sides as you began taking slow steps in the opposite direction to where Kakuzu was stood, your eyes desperate scanning the bare walls for something, anything, you could use as an excuse to not turn around and face him.

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do.” You winced, even to you your voice sounded impossibly thick. Unless Kakuzu was actually brain-dead you didn’t have the slightest chance of escaping him unscathed. Spotting your bag in the corner of the room you marched towards it and squatted in front of it, opening it up slowly you rummaged around mindlessly. Acting had never been your strong suit but you hoped this was at least mildly convincing. The silence between the two of you was almost deafening, had you not been able to feel his steel-like gaze piercing through you you may have assumed he’d already left. You breathed a sigh of relief as you heard Kakuzu’s feet move, although that relief was quickly displaced with immediate dread as you realised he was walking towards you. Ducking your head you tried to make your bag rummaging more convincing, although at this point you knew it was pointless.

“What are you looking for?” You felt a shiver run down your spine as the older Shinobi spoke, his deep gravelly voice always put you on edge, no matter what he was saying. You hummed loudly “Nothing in particular. Do you want something?” you inwardly cringed as your voice cracked, you could already feel the pressure building up in your throat. Your body wanted nothing more than to completely break down but that wasn’t an option right now. You tried to control your breathing, praying that he would leave.

“We have a mission. We’re leaving early tomorrow morning”

“Right. Is that all?” you snapped, instantly regretting your tone as you felt a strong hand grip your shoulder.

“Look at me when you speak to me” Kakuzu growled. You felt tears prick your eyes. God not now, please not now. Forcing a laugh you tried to swat his hand away which only caused him to tighten his grip. “Pathetic really, I come all this way to tell you we have a mission and this is the thanks I get. I could have easily just left you here all by yourself-” You’d had enough, gripping his hand with your own you tore it from your shoulder. Turning to face the surprised Shinobi with tears streaming down your face. “Just shut up! Shut up! Leave me the fuck alone!” you screamed as your arms flailed wildly in a series of punches and slaps, each one directed at Kakuzu’s chest. You felt his skin harden beneath your fists, you didn’t care if you weren’t hurting him. You just wanted him gone. Your breath rasped as you repeatedly flung yourself at him. He just stood there, completely still, his face unreadable beneath his mask. Yelling in frustration you turned away from him, picking up your bag and tossing it across the room. “Just fuck off!”

“Me or the bag?” He retorted, Taking a step towards you. You attempted to throw another punch at him, this time however he swiftly caught it. His large hand enveloped your fist as he pushed it harshly down to your side, his eyes meeting your own. There was something different about his gaze, it was still his usual stone-cold glare yet there was something… Almost like guilt? Or maybe it was sadness glimmering within its depths. You tried to disentangle your fists from his grip to no avail. “Kakuzu please, leave me alone” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. He sighed heavily, his feet shifting slightly as he pulled you into a rough and uncomfortable hug. His arms wrapped stiffly around you for a few seconds before he quickly withdrew them and pushed you away. You were in a state of complete shock, your entire body seemed to be malfunctioning. Had you took the time to look up at Kakuzu you might have noticed the delicate shade of pink decorating his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you be” He muttered. Before you could even compute what had happened, never mind think of an adequate response he had already left the room. Leaving you completely alone once again.

You shook your head roughly, it must have been a dream, right? Had Kakuzu, the man devoid of any and all emotion, really just given you a hug? You laughed, you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe you’d finally turned insane. The hug had been possibly the absolute worst you’d ever received in your life, yet somehow you felt lighter. His body had been warm. So warm. So muscular. You pinched yourself, what on earth were you thinking? Had several years lacking in human touch really made you this desperate? Smiling to yourself you wandered aimlessly towards your bed, heavily flopping down on it to stare at the ceiling. You lay like that for a good while, your head spinning with thoughts of Kakuzu. You didn’t know what to make of this advancement, had he hugged you out of pity or was it something else? With your thoughts still racing you slowly drifted off into a deep slumber that lasted until dawn. You weren’t awoken by the entrance of a mysterious masked man who gently placed a duvet over your body. You didn’t see the soft smile which adorned his face as he did this, you didn’t notice the extreme care he took in order to not wake you as he tucked you into bed. You didn’t hear him as he gently whispered goodnight before he left. The next morning you’d wake up, completely unaware of just how much Kakuzu cared about you. Unknowing of the suffering you caused him. To openly reveal his admiration for you would be to reopen old wounds. After all, if you ever found out just how much he cared it would ruin the image he’d spent years constructing.

#kakuzu #kakuzu x reader #naruto reader insert #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto fic #self insert #reader insert #naruto self insert

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accioxreparo · 4 years

Text

the Talk | g.w.

part one // baby fever | part two // the Talk

synopsis: You and George did everything young. It was only fitting that you two talk about having kids when you did.

pairing: George Weasley x reader

warnings: brief mentions of the war, a touch of angst but mostly fluff

a/n: wow this is ended up being so much longer than originally planned. I really wanted to get in more backstory though so here we are. Let me know what you guys think about the format cause...I kinda like this little hybrid thing?

~~~~~~

You and George did everything young.

You had just turned 13 years old when the two of you went on your first date.

It was the summer before your third year and the two of you snuck out one night to go to a festival happening in a neighboring muggle town. You still have the moon shaped necklace George had bought you that day. He still has the sun shaped one you bought him. The gifts weren’t planned but it was the first time you saw how truly perfect the two of you were together.

You had your first kiss a few weeks later the day you returned to Hogwarts. It was in one of the courtyards and there was nobody else around. Now the details of it were a little fuzzy but you could still remember the awkwardness of it all.

The first time you talked about getting married was at 16.

It was more playful than anything else. You’d both drunk just a bit too much firewhiskey during the post-Yule Ball party thrown in one of the abandoned rooms. You’d toppled over together on one of the couches in the common room and you found yourself giggling when you saw how George was staring at you. “What are you thinking about?”

He had pulled you on top of him, resting his hands on your hips as he peppered kisses all over your face. Finally he pressed a soft kiss on your lips and gave you a dopey sort of grin.

“About how pretty you look. And about how one day we’re going to be dancing just like we did today but you’ll be wearing this huge, puffy white dress that you can’t stand but that you wore because my mum said you looked like a princess in it. And I’ll be wearing my fanciest dress robes or maybe a normal suit. Either way it won’t matter because I won’t look anywhere near as good as you will.”

You had smiled and kissed him again, a little longer this time. When you pulled away your forehead rested on his and you both had to resist the urge to just forget the conversation and continue the kiss. “That’s a wedding you’re talking about, Georgie.”

“I know,” He had said it with complete ease. “We’re going to have one of those for us one day.”

It was only a few months later, now at the age of 17, when George decided he was going to ask you to marry him for real.

Ever since the end of the Triwizard tournament he’d been filled with this nauseating feeling that nothing, absolutely nothing at all, was guaranteed.

The events of that day were stuck in his mind. He could remember the feeling of you shaking in his arms as you cried upon finding out Cedric had died. He could remember being confused at your reaction until you told him the two of you had been friends once but you couldn’t remember the last time you had a real conversation with him

It was with a completely clear mind that he got out of bed at precisely 6:21 AM and wandered through the house until he found his mother sitting at the kitchen table reading the newest edition of the Daily Prophet.

“Can I talk to you?” George had asked before she got the chance to say anything.

Molly had immediately grown concerned by the much too serious look on his face. Not to mention the fact that he’d never once asked a question like that. Nonetheless she still put down the paper, smiled softly, and put her full attention on him. “Absolutely, dear.”

“What if I,” George had avoided all eye contact, instead focusing on fiddling with the hem of his shirt, one he’d only just stolen back from you. The thought made him smile, giving him the courage he needed to finish asking his question. “What if I asked Y/N to marry me?”

That definitely hadn’t been what Molly was expecting him to say. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t see it coming though. For six years now she’d seen the way he was around you. For four years you’d been tied at the hip, bringing out the best in each other. This felt like just the right step. “Well you’re both of age now if that’s what you want to do.”

“But what do you think about it?” That was the part he was really nervous for. “I don’t want to wait any longer. After everything that happened this year I just want something I know is good and real. Something that,” His voice is softer then, more vulnerable. It surprises even himself. “Something that nobody else can take away from me.”

And Molly understands completely. She’s been there before, seen all of this happen once already. There’s not a single part of her that wants to argue because she trusts and believes in both him and you wholeheartedly.

So she gently rests a hand on top of George’s, which are still pulling at his shirt, and he looks up to see her smiling at him. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

He asked you that same night.

He actually didn’t even make it halfway through breakfast before telling Fred, Ron, and Ginny, all of whom were completely ecstatic. They loved you after all.

The four of them had been bouncing ideas off each other all day long while Molly had disappeared into the attic to dig through a bunch of boxes, not telling any of them what she was looking for.

They’ve got no less than five different speeches and approaches planned by the time Arthur gets home from work. Nobody can get the news out fast enough and though he’s a little surprised, he expresses his own joy at the news. He helps them brainstorm and soon they have a sixth plan thought out.

“When are you gonna do it then?” Ginny is the one who asked excitedly. “Don’t know. Soon I guess,” George glances at the time and stands up. “Actually supposed to meet her at some place in London in a few.”

He disappeared up the stairs to find where he left the address you’d given him and just as he’s found it Molly walks into the room.

She hands him the object she’d been searching for. A ring with a diamond in the middle and golden flowers laced all around the band. One she says has been passed down through the Prewett family for as long as anyone can remember.

He takes it with a soft thank you and a smile telling her it’s perfect as he pockets it, too afraid to leave it lying around.

When he gets to the address you gave him he’s a little surprised when he finds you sitting on the sidewalk with a book in your hands. It’s with an amused grin that you pull out your wand and before he knows it a building is appearing out of nowhere. You tell him it’s 12 Grimmauld Place, the House of Black, and that’s where you’ve been for a few days now helping Sirius, Remus, and Tonks fix it up

The entire time he’s there, exploring the rooms and wandering the halls beside you, the ring lies in his pocket and it feels heavy, as if reminding him it’s there.

He actually didn’t mean to ask you when he did.

You were right there though and the ring was in his pocket and he couldn’t think of anything else.

You were both curled up on the couch in the living room. There was that familiar light, a glint in your eyes that he absolutely adored seeing and you were telling him a story about what had happened the day before while at Tonks place with a huge smile on your face and he just couldn’t help himself.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him again when you found him staring at you, much like that night just a few months ago. This time, though, you were both completely clear headed.

“About how I want to ask you to marry me.”

That caught your attention. Almost immediately you felt butterflies grow in your stomach and slowly you sat up, turning to face him. George was completely serious. You were at a strange loss for words. “You - I - what?”

He gave a soft laugh at the confused look on your face and sat up himself, pulling the ring out of his pocket as he did so.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know what to feel because after the tournament it's like every moment is fleeting. Everything suddenly feels temporary and that scares me. There’s only one thing I do know and that’s that I don’t want this, us, to be temporary. Every single thing that I feel for you, that’s all real. It always has been. I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me, I’ve never been more certain of anything else in my life. Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“I-” You’re at a loss for words and also painfully aware of three very shocked people standing in the doorway of the room. Despite the surprise you know your answer right away. You’re absolutely positive this is what you want too. “Yes.”

George hadn’t been planning to ask then and he hadn’t really thought of how he would react. So he can’t help but be happily surprised when you agree. “What?”

“Yes, you tosser,” You laugh and happily kiss him, effectively bringing him back down to earth, though he swears he’s still dreaming. It seems too good to be true. “I’ll marry you.”

The memory of you two getting engaged isn’t just of you two in the living room of 12 Grimmauld Place. It’s also of Sirius and Tonks shouting and jumping around in excitement before either of you can get another word out and of Remus scolding them both about ruining your moment.

It’s your favorite memory of them.

Especially because less than a year later, still at only 17, just a couple days before your birthday and a month before you’re to be married, Sirius died.

He was perhaps one of the only people you had never once doubted. All it took was you giving him wide, puppy dog eyes and he was immediately rendered incapable of lying to you, a fact even he found amusing.

He and Remus were both named your godfathers for a reason and you knew that very well. Even as a child you would brave the halls of Azkaban just to go see him no matter how much Remus didn’t want you to. He couldn’t argue with you, though, because he always ended up giving in much too easily.

You trusted Sirius with your life and he’d wasted too many years inside that prison and maybe that was why you had asked him to walk you down the aisle. To remind him of what was good and pure and happy.

He never got that reminder. Instead you were burying him the weekend after your birthday.

George had been at a loss about how to comfort you over Cedric’s death and he was at an even bigger loss now. He himself had grown rather close to Sirius over the last few months while spending late nights awake with the two of you and struggled to deal with the news of his death alongside you.

You guys have a strong support system though. There’s never a moment either of you is alone and you know that. It hurts to have to move on but you do.

If anything you’re more certain than ever before that this, your wedding, marrying George is exactly what you want.

So you do it. At 18, a month after the date you had originally planned, you and George get married.

It happens in the large backyard of the cottage you’d grown up in with Remus. It’s late summer and the tree in the backyard is covered in blossoms and you could not have imagined a more perfect place to have your wedding.

The ceremony and reception were meant to be small and intimate and they are but they also end up more extravagant than you could’ve imagined. You find out as all the decor and outfits and food is arriving that Sirius had taken the liberty of getting you and George only the absolute best.

You’re sure you’re handling the last surprise you have from him well until the day before the wedding. You’re in the backyard alongside Molly, Tonks, Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, and Andromeda when you get an unexpected visit from a goblin from Gringotts. He hands you an envelope and a small brown package and tells you that they were given instructions in Sirius’ will to deliver it to you.

You break down the moment you open the letter to see loopy handwriting that you recognize immediately

Y/N, I understand that you wanted your wedding to be more about the two of you and less about the decorations. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that there’s no time like the present. I like to think you’ve picked that up from me and of that I’m proud. Therefore I hope you don’t mind me spicing things up a little. Oh and these are my gift to you because my favorite goddaughter will have the best if I have anything to say about it. And her soon to be husband too I guess and I like him, I really do, but these are mostly for you. Hope you like them as much as I liked picking everything out. -Love, Sirius

Your hands shake as you open the package to find a pair of elaborately engraved wedding bands, the ones you’re to use tomorrow

And you have to laugh because even when he’s not there anymore Sirius really does just know you that well. They’re perfect and you’re positive he knew that when he picked them out. A little card falls out of the envelope and you smile through your tears at his final note to you.

You’re ready.

Everything you and George did you did young so it was tragically fitting when the war came around and you two were only 19 years old

Even now, only a year after everything ended, you remember the plots and the fights and the flashes of light coming at you from every direction.

You remember running for your life and hiding in whatever corner you could. You remember not being sure if your friends were dead or alive.

But most of all you remember everything you lost.

Remus. Tonks. Fred. Sirius. Cedric.

In just a year it seemed like everything had been torn from your hands, your world turned upside down. It took you a while to properly grieve what you lost.

You had George, though.

And yes, there were nights where neither of you could sleep, still clearly hearing the echoing of loud bangs all around you, flinching at even the smallest movements with your wand gripped tightly in your hand, but never once were you alone.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask George one night after a particularly bad nightmare. Your face was stained with dry tears, your eyes bloodshot, and when you spoke your voice was hoarse. He had wrapped you in his arms tightly and held you until you stopped crying. You felt safe with him. It made the nightmare of losing him alongside everybody else that much worse. You wanted to hear his voice. Needed to hear it. Needed to know he was still there.

“About how much I love you,” George had answered honestly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “And about how we’re going to be okay.”

You knew how to handle loss now, that was simply a side effect of the war.

Just a few months after the fight at Hogwarts you were taking a position at St. Mungo’s to help those also struggling with everything after the war

Now, a little over a year later, you were spearheading major changes in St. Mungo’s, helping to make all sorts of care more readily available. Everything from providing wolfsbane to those who couldn’t afford the ingredients on their own to support programs for everyone, adults and children alike.

You’d been busy and maybe that’s why you put off having The Talk with George at first. But eventually two weeks passed by and nothing had changed. There was still an ache that filled your body every time you dropped Teddy back off with Andromeda. That weekend when you were all at the Burrow you didn’t even realize you were practically glued to Fleur’s side.

You also don’t notice the way George is watching you every time you hold Vic in your arms. This image of a little toddler running around your apartment with his hair and your eyes keeps playing in his mind and he smiles every time.

It’s not until you two get home late that night that you try to work up the nerve to bring up the topic. You’re sitting on the couch, comfortably leaning against George while some music plays in the background

“What are you thinking about?” George asks when he sees the look on your face. He can read you inside and out and knows you’re conflicted about something. He’s just not too sure what it’s about though he has a vague idea.

You turn to look at him and figure now is as good a time as any to tell him what you’ve been thinking. “About how I want us to have a baby.”

For a second he doesn’t say anything, simply taking a moment to mull over your words. Finally he shifts a little bit so it’s easier to bring you closer. “Y/N, love -”

“I think it’s the right time,” You start talking again before George can continue. “I know you’re trying to expand the shop and I have a ton of things going on at work but I really do think we can do this. I thought it was just cause we’ve been around Teddy and Vic so much lately but it’s more than that. I think it at least warrants a conversation. I can’t imagine making a family with anybody else.”

A silence hangs in the room but its not uncomfortable. Slowly a small, partially amused smile grows on George’s face and he only stares at you as if waiting for you to say something else. “Are you done?”

He watches you nod and bite your lip, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as he can remember. He reaches forward and gently removes your bottom lip from between your teeth, still holding your face in his hands so you’re looking right at him. Then he kisses you softly and when he pulls away he smiles at the sight of your eyes still closed, a relaxed look on your face.

“I was actually going to agree with you since I’ve been thinking the same thing.” George admits, laughing as you beam up at him excitedly. “As long as you’re ready to do this I think it’s worth trying.”

Honestly you weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe a talk about how you’re both still young, some mention of the fact that you were both doing a lot at the moment. But you and George are on the same page. A baby of your own is something you both want and you suppose that’s the way it should be.

“Alright,” Your smile widens and you’re the one who kisses him again. He’s as excited about this as you are, you can tell. “Looks like we’re gonna try to have a baby.”

#oof that awkward moment when you forget to add tags #okay here we go now #hp fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #my fics #fic: baby fever #fic: the talk

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

first; jimmy darling | ahs:freakshow [ m]

Notes:

So.. I am.. quite rusty. It's been a while since I sat down and wrote anything at all, let alone anything smutty. Recently, I got back into watching American Horror Story and naturally, I started with one of my personal favorite seasons, Freak Show.

I'm not saying this oneshot is going any further than that.. But I did do certain things to leave the door open for that. Only if you guys think you'd like to see more. If not, this smutty first time idea is OUT of my head, rust is being written off... Hopefully.

Warning:

18+ only. This is sexual content. It is not meant for children, m'kay? If you're under 18+ you need to navigate away from this post because it is absolutely not meant for you.

If you're sticking around, here are the things you need to be aware of:

First time / virgin OFC, body fluids, unprotected sex... Very.. emotional.

Tagging:

There's actually nobody on my American Horror Story taglists. If you'd like to be tagged in the future, go [ here ] and add yourself or you can hit me up, tell me where to add you and I'll happily do that.

Other stuff:

[ faq | tag list doc ]

“ It’s your turn, Jenny… downstairs.”

Anna’s words drew me out of my own thoughts and I swallowed hard, staring at the basement door for a few seconds; unsure of what I’d let Anna and my friends talk me into. Trying to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal and that girls like me = the plain ones, the shy ones, we didn’t have many options when it came to becoming a woman. Reminding myself that I was the one who wanted this. That it was either Jimmy Darling or Dandy Mott and I’d rather die than let Dandy Mott within a foot of me.

,, Then there’s the fact that when you saw Jimmy in the diner last week, there was this magnets pull. That feeling like you’d known him your whole life… Not to mention the dreams it stirred up after.”

Bearing the thoughts in mind, I took a deep breath and stood. My legs were shaky and my heart was pounding away at my chest like it wanted to break free. I reached for the doorknob and Anna called out with a gentle, teasing laugh, “Oh come on, don’t back down. If it helps… He’s real gentle. Real sweet.”

I swallowed hard again, nodding. Turning my back to the other girls and reaching for the doorknob all over again. It felt like everything was passing by in slow motion, from stepping through the basement door, walking down the stairs, but finally, I stood in the basement.

The brunette male glanced up at me. The others had been whispering all night about his magical hands… The things he could do with those webbed fingers of his, but all I could do was stare at his eyes. Drown in the molten brown depths silently.

“C’mon doll. I don’t bite.” Jimmy spoke up, flashing me the teasing grin of a charmer. The kind of grin that normally, I’d think was too easy, too relaxed. The kind of grin that spelled trouble most of the time.

His smooth coaxing tone when he spoke caught me off guard, making me focus on what was about to happen and not just my own thoughts. My heart sped up just a little more.

I took a step towards him, twisting a mousy brown strand around my fingertips. “Yeah.. Anna, she told me you were gentle.” I managed to mumble as I gazed up at him.

He stepped closer. Smiled down at me.

During all this, I hadn’t gazed down at his hands a single time. He hadn’t dropped my gaze a single time, either, those eyes locked on mine. Almost as if he were staring right into my soul. I took a shaky breath.

He eyed me for a few seconds. Swallowing hard. I watched his throat bob as his eyes settled on my lips and he cleared his throat and asked me quietly, “Do I know you? You remind me of somebody.”

I shook my head no. Despite the very vivid recurring dreams that started after I saw him in the diner. Because there wasn’t any way I could know him, I’ve lived in Florida since I was born.

,, but what about the dreams you had when you were a kid? That you lived in a little travel trailer?”

Jimmy didn’t seem to believe me, but he didn’t dwell on it. “Anna told me you were wantin’ more.” he chuckled quietly. Raising a webbed hand, raking it over a soft mess of brown curls as he looked me up and down. Waiting on an answer.

That answer felt like it was stuck in my throat. My mouth opened and closed and all I could do was nod.

He stepped closer; continued to speak. Calm and quiet, soft. “You sure? Because you don’t look real sure right now, doll.”

His hands skimmed over my sides. I didn’t flinch away or anything. I just stood there. Staring. Trying to will myself to answer. Trying to reconcile both this magnetism I felt pulling me to Jimmy and the fact that despite having never met him before in my life, he felt so familiar, as if I’d known him a lifetime.

“Anna told me I was gonna like you.” he stepped just a little closer, our bodies brushing. His hands still skimming over my sides, going still at the hip. He stared me down, waiting. Chuckling quietly. “C’mon, doll. You gotta talk to me.”

And finally, I managed to speak.

“I’m sure. I… I want to do this.” I stammered out quietly. I managed a smile. Reaching down into the pocket of my pale pink dress for the money I’d bought with me. “I’ll, uhh.. I’ll even pay extra.” I stumbled over my words, keeping my eyes trained on my feet.

He laughed quietly. Reaching up and tucking webbed fingers beneath my chin as he made me look at him. He shook his head no. “Keep your money, doll. Normally, I’d take you up on it. But I’m feelin generous tonight.”

I started to protest. I knew he needed the money, that was the whole reason Anna was throwing this party. She’d talked to him when he stuck around after her mom’s Tupperware party the week before and he’d mentioned money being tight.

Despite my attempt at protesting, he caught hold of my hand with his other hand. Shaking his head no all over again. “Relax.” he coaxed gently as he closed the distance between our bodies. The contrast of hard muscle against my softness had me exhaling sharply. Staring up at him quietly, in awe.

“Just curious here.. How far have you gone before, doll?” Jimmy asked.

I bit my lip and took a shaky breath. “Kissin. And I wasn’t so good at that, either.” I mumbled quietly.

“Maybe you were kissin the wrong man, doll.” Jimmy muttered as his fingers tangled in loose waves, using his grip on my hair to pull my mouth into his. Rough lips bumped against my mouth clumsily, latching on to my bottom lip as his free hand lowered, settling on my hip. He rubbed me against him and my breath caught in my throat, a gasp breaking free and lingering in the space between our mouths before being swallowed, Jimmy’s tongue tracing the outline of my lips as it slipped between them.

“ Anna was right.” Jimmy muttered breathlessly as I raised my arms, slipping them around his neck. Molding myself against him even more. “Oh?” I mumbled in a daze as the kiss deepened and my teeth latched onto his bottom lip, tugging, making him growl quietly as he continued, “When she said I was gonna like you, she was right.” and chuckled to himself quietly as the kiss broke and we pulled apart to breathe.

My thighs were starting to get slick and this dull throbbing ache was settling in. He scooped me up and stepped over to the mattresses nearby, dropping me on top of them carefully. Lowering himself to settle on top of me. One rough webbed hand caressed my cheek as he rocked himself against me.

I whimpered quietly, feeling the way he strained against worn denim. My hand disappeared between us, shaking fingers trying to pull the button of his jeans free. He chuckled quietly, burying his mouth in mine all over again as he lowered the hand placed on my cheek, guiding my hand away from the button of his jeans. I whined and rocked myself against him clumsily and he muttered softly against my ear, “We got all night, doll. I’m gonna take my time with you, sweetheart.”

The warmth of his breath against my skin sent an electric tingle racing through my body. My fingertips dug deeper into broad shoulders and I met his gaze, nodding.

The music from upstairs drifted down and the door at the top of the stairs banged shut quietly as it faded away, leaving nothing behind but the sound of our heavy breathing. Jimmy pressed into me a little more, carefully. Pulling his face away to stare down at me.

“My hands scare ya?” Jimmy questioned quietly. The tension that crept into his body as he waited on me to answer had me trying to get closer. Pulling him down on top of me completely. Raising one of my hands to his cheek and rolling my thumb over his bottom lip. Trying to relax him as he’d done for me earlier. I shook my head no. Gazing back up at him. Reaching for one of his hands. Wrapping mine around it. “Not at all, Jimmy.” I answered.

My answer seemed to have him taken aback. For seconds that seemed to stretch to hours, we lie there, staring at one another. His eyes searching mine. Maybe he thought I was lying. I wasn’t. I was being totally honest.

“Anna told me somethin else, doll…” Jimmy muttered at last, breaking the silence between us. Dragging his fingers over my cheeks as he gazed at me thoughtfully.

“Yeah?” I breathed out the word heavily, reaching up to caress his cheek. Pulling his face down, putting his mouth closer to mine. “What’d she tell you?” I breathed out as my lips brushed against his clumsily, latching onto the corner.

“She told me about what you said. When you saw me at the diner last week?”

I felt my cheeks heating up. Oh, I remembered exactly what I’d told Anna. It wouldn’t do me any good to play coy, I knew I couldn’t hide it if I tried. There was just something about those deep and thoughtful brown eyes as they locked on me, waiting on an answer.

“Which part?” I asked, my words coming in short and breathless pants as I dared to graze my lips against his.

That handsome and charming smile was back as his mouth crashed against mine all over again and he mumbled softly, “ The part about you saying I was a handsome guy. Oh, and my favorite part, me havin the kinda lips you longed to kiss… Color me curious doll, is it turnin out to be everything you imagined?”

I let out a ragged breath. At least she’d told him the tamest of the things I’d confessed to her when she kept bugging me about why I was staring so hard at the guy. I smiled up at him, gasping as he pressed himself into me a little more, pinning me flat against the bed. “ You are. Too handsome for me, actually. As far as the kissable lips,” I breathed out the words as I pulled away slightly to stare at him, “ Beyond what I imagined.”

Rough and webbed fingertips pressed against my soft lips as he shook his head and hushed what I’d been about to say. “Don’t say that, doll. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? Do ya?” as he bucked himself against me. Grabbing hold of my hand, guiding it down to the bulge strained at worn denim. “Do you feel what you’re doin to me? Trust me, doll. When I say you’re gorgeous and I want you real bad, I mean it.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m not, I’m really not.”

I wanted to believe him, but I was smarter than that. When you hear enough people tell you otherwise, you start to accept what you hear as fact.

His lips strayed from mine, dancing down my neck. I rubbed against him and he growled quietly, one of his hands drifting down to squeeze my hip, rocking himself into me. Catching my gaze and licking his lips as he took several shaky and drawn out breaths. His mouth brushing against mine just barely. Enough to tease. “You are.” he rocked himself against me all over again and I lowered my hand, palming at the front of his jeans. Whimpering as that needy ache built to a fever pitch.

I could feel myself starting to drip. The more his mouth and hands roamed. The harder he pressed into me and the more he rocked against me, the wetter I became. He crashed his mouth against mine again and muttered into a deep kiss, “There’s too much keepin us apart right now, sweetheart.”

I nodded in agreement, despite knowing that nobody had ever seen me naked before.

,, You were the one who said you wanted to change that… Remember? And tonight feels special. Better than you thought it was going to feel. He’s being so gentle and thoughtful.”

He tried to unbutton the front of my dress and untie the tie at the waist himself, but I could tell he was having problems. I sat up. Jimmy was agitated with himself, apologetic with me, sitting on the edge of the mattresses, staring at his hands as he grumbled quietly about not being able to do something as simple as undress me. I tapped his shoulder and caught his face in my hands, crashing my mouth against his. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I… I can help.” I offered in a quiet whisper.

“If I wasn’t a freak, you wouldn’t have to, sweetheart.” Jimmy muttered, shaking his head. Dropping his gaze. It hit me then, just how insecure Jimmy Darling, the man with the magic fingers, truly was. I bit my lip and took a few shaky breaths, pulling myself together. Gathering up the nerve. I’d come too far to be talked out of what I wanted, my reason for letting Anna set this up for me tonight.

All I had to do was follow through.

“Could you turn around?” I asked the question timidly. Jimmy chuckled. Biting his lip as he stared at me for a few long seconds before nodding and turning to face the wall. I unbuttoned and untied the dress, letting it fall to the floor at my feet. Leaving me in my pale pink slip.

I slipped off the mattresses, walking up behind him. Pressing against his back. Jimmy turned around, his eyes roaming hungrily. “You sure you wanna do this? With me?”

“For the last time. Yes. It has to be you, okay? I… I want you.” I muttered as I rose to tiptoe, pulling his mouth against mine. My hand dropped between us, tugging up the white tank top over his head. Letting it settle on the floor as soon as I got it off him. I drug my fingers down his chest, giving a soft giggle when I heard him growl quietly and felt him shiver a little at the soft touch. My fingers hooked in the waistband of his jeans and I paused, staring up at him. Swallowing hard. Trying to keep my nerve.

He gulped and stepped into me. I took a few steps back as he nodded towards the mattresses behind me, standing still when the backs of my knees brushing against the edge of the mattress. He pushed me down gently. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, letting them pool to the ground. Jimmy tugged his boxers down, his thick cock springing free. Making me stare, my eyes widening at the sight of it, standing at attention, the tip glistening with precum. I swallowed hard, muttered mostly to myself, “It’s so big, I…” as I wondered if I could take all of him.

Jimmy chuckled. Settling between my legs to keep them spread as he leaned down and crashed his mouth against mine. “It’s not gonna hurt long, doll. I promise. I’ll be real gentle, okay?”

“O-okay.” I muttered. Jimmy tugged the slip up my body, letting me sit up so he could pull it off completely. Then he gently pushed me flat against the mattresses all over again, his thick cock rubbing right against my throbbing, wet center and making me gasp and writhe against him, desperate for friction, for anything that might help the ache.

“No panties, huh?” Jimmy mused in awe as he worked his mouth down the side of my neck.

“I…” I whimpered, fingers curling against the mattress and carding through his hair as he rubbed against me all over again and gazed down at me. “I knew what I was coming to do tonight.. Wanted to make it easier for you...”

Jimmy chuckled. “Good girl. Such a good girl.” his voice was velvet and gravel and a stubble lined jaw brushed against my skin, sending shivers through my body all over again. One of his hands captured both of mine over my head, holding them against the mattress as his mouth latched onto my neck carefully. Too carefully.

“Jimmy, c’mon.” I begged breathlessly.

“What do you want, doll? Use your words. C’mon, talk to me.” Jimmy coaxed, locking eyes with me as he tilted my face so that I couldn’t look away.

“Kiss my neck… Like you were before…”

“It might leave marks behind, doll… You don’t want me doin that, do ya?”

“I do.” I gasped as his the tip of his cock teased against my opening, turning a dull throb into a pounding ache that had my stomach coiling and had me dripping even more. “If I leave marks, doll.. Means somethin. Somethin a little more than what you came down here for tonight… Ya understand, sweetheart?” Jimmy’s eyes settled on me expectantly and he licked his lips as he let them roam.

“What’s it mean?” I asked quietly. Clinging to him as best as I could. Pulling him down on top of me even more. I wanted him closer. What I really wanted was to feel him buried inside me, but given my lack of experience, I felt it was for the best if I let Jimmy take the lead here.

“Means you’re my girl.” Jimmy’s mouth caught against mine, his lips locking on my top one. I felt his hand slip down between us, fingers dragging slow over my wet sex as he gave a quiet growl. He stared me down, curious gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think you want that, doll. Trust me.”

“ What if I do?” I asked, rubbing against him. Begging for more. Repeating my question when he didn’t say anything because I wanted him to know that I chose him and tonight for a reason. Otherwise, I’d have kept on the way I’ve been living. I just wanted him. I needed him. “What if I do, Jimmy Darling? Is that so bad?”

Jimmy blinked in shock. Bit his lip as he seemed to mull it over. His fingers slipping inside my throbbing sex, working me open carefully. Slowly. Stopping quickly when I tensed and grimaced at the sharp sting of pain that came with being stretched out for the first time. Waiting until I started to relax and tried to rock myself against his fingers, desperate for some kind of relief, anything to dull the ache.

“You’re jokin.” he muttered as he pressed into me, his mouth against the shell of my ear, nipping at my earlobe. “You can’t want that, sweetheart. I got nothin to offer. Nothin.”

“Maybe I do. There’s something about you, I… I can’t explain it. I don’t want things, okay? I don’t want empty words. I want you.”

“There’s something about you too, doll… But the life I live.. My hands…” Jimmy countered, stubborn. His fingers worked me open even more. Thrusting deeper inside, scissoring. I gasped and arched my back, clinging to him.

“It’s better than what I have going on. Quiet little librarian. No family. Nothing keeping me here. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you in the diner. I even dream about you, Jimmy Darling.”

He chuckled huskily against my neck. His lips finally latching on, suction forming. His fingers slowed and I got a chance to catch my breath, relax a little. I could feel a mark forming on my neck. “We’ll see, okay? If you don’t try and find me after tonight, guess I’ll have my answer.”

I had no doubt in my mind. I was going to take any chance I could to try and find him.

Things happen for a reason.

“Jimmy, p-please.” I stammered out, rocking as best as I could against his scissoring fingers, “I need you now.”

His mouth dove against mine all over again. Needier. Deeper and more frantic. “Now, huh?” he muttered lazily as the kiss finally broke.

“Now.” I begged, rocking myself against his fingers as they scissored in and out of me faster and faster. My stomach coiled tight and my breath caught in my throat. I dug my fingers into his shoulder and the mattress and I tried to dig my heels in too, but nothing helped. I needed friction. I was so close to getting off that frustrated tears stung my eyes. “Please, baby?”

The term of endearment seemed to make something within him snap.

“It’s gonna hurt a little. I can’t help that, doll.” he groaned against my neck as his lips moved over it erratically. His cock teased against my sex and I tensed a little as it buried inside me. He stilled on top of me, peppering kisses and gentle nips against my face and neck, dragging his tongue over the outline of my lips as he stared down at me with a tender gaze before muttering quietly, “You okay now, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” I mumbled, grazing my lips against his neck as I rocked myself into him, determined to get friction, one way or another. “Jimmy, c’mon. Please?”

He flashed me a tender smirk. “Like I’m gonna deny you anything, doll.” he mumbled as he started to slowly fuck into me, a hand moving down to my hip, stopping my movements. “Let me take care of ya, okay?”

I nodded, pouting up at him. His hips crashed against mine slow and steady and when his mouth found mine, my tongue slipped past his lips eagerly. The kiss deepened to a point where I felt myself getting light-headed. Clinging to him as I moaned his name over and over, making him smirk each time I did and it got a little louder. When the kiss broke, I muttered softly, “When do I get to take care of you, huh?”

“Later, sweetheart.” Jimmy promised as his cock buried inside me completely, stretching and overfilling me, making me grip onto him tighter. My lips grazing against his neck and latching on, leaving a small mark behind and making him growl, start to pound away at me a little harder and faster before he had to slow down all over again.

I clung to him, whimpering. Begging him for my release.

“Not yet, doll. Not done with you yet. You feel too fucking good.” Jimmy groaned into my mouth as his lips engulfed mine. His cock strummed against my spot and I writhed beneath him, dragging my fingers up and down his back, stopping when he tensed up just a little and winced.

“Sorry.”

“ ‘S okay, doll.” he muttered into the deepening kiss. My orgasm built to an almost blinding ache that had me shaking, barely able to hold on as he fucked me deep into the mattresses beneath me, his hips slamming into mine erratically, his hands and mouth all over me.

“Fuck. Oh fuck, doll. Don’t wanna stop.” he breathed against the shell of my ear, “But I can’t hold on much longer… Let go for me?”

I needed no coaxing at all. My orgasm tore through me, leaving me shivering and shaking as I struggled to keep the pace he set. His hips stammered and he rose up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, driving him even deeper inside, “Don’t stop.. C’mon, baby. Let go.” I coaxed breathlessly.

He bit his lip, staring down at me as he slowed down, tried to pull himself back from the edge. I clung to him, rocking my hips up to meet his thrusts and despite him trying to still my hips, I managed to keep going, making him shiver and melt against me as the warmth of his release flooded me, making me moan all over again as he settled on top of me, capturing my hands in his and burying his mouth against mine.

He collapsed to the mattress, pulling me against him as his arms wrapped around me. I went to say something but he shushed me, muttering quietly, “Let’s just lay here. I just…I wanna lay here, hold you and pretend.”

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to pretend anything, but I knew he wouldn’t hear it. I knew I’d have to prove him wrong.

And honestly, I was fine with it.

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percywinchester27 · 4 years

Text

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-4)

Word count: 4.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: None

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23 I love you, Athina <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

Sam’s POV

The ringing got to the point where Sam reached out and almost flung the phone across the room. It was the first time in over a week that he’d actually managed to fall asleep, that too in the early hours of the morning. Who was even calling this early?

He opened one eye to read the name on the screen and promptly sat up in his bed.

“Dean?” He answered. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah!” Dean’s voice sounded absolutely normal on the other side, goofy even. “I just woke up super early to go for a walk. For the first time. I thought you’d be proud. It was your idea after all.”

“Dean,” Sam groaned. “It’s five in the morning.”

“Aren’t you always up at five anyway?”

He had a point, but today was not the day.

“If it’s nothing important, I’m going back to bed,” Sam declared. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a while.”

“Aren’t you by yourself for like two more weeks? What’s keeping you up now?”

Nightmares, horrors and well, the woman I had loved with all my heart who abandoned me seven years ago?

Sam almost said it. Almost. The words died on his lips, though.

“It’s nothing. I’m just really tired,” he said finally.

“Those guys at work still giving you a hard time?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Nobody is giving me a hard time! It was one case and over a year ago. I’m not five. You can’t kick people’s asses for me anymore.”

“Just give me the names.”

Sam laughed. For the first time in a week, the knot in his chest loosening. Maybe that’s what he needed. He should have called his brother sooner.

Dean deserved to know about Y/N. Hell, Sam should have called him the moment he walked out of that classroom. He would have, too, had it not taken him a whole day to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t dreaming to begin with.

That’s where he saw her afterall… She was the part of his worst nightmare. He would be damned though, if she wasn't also the loveliest dream he’d ever dreamt, ever felt.

“Sam?” Dean asked. “Did you fall asleep on me?”

“No.”

“Okay, I lied,” Dean admitted. “I’m not exercising or anything. I just couldn’t fall asleep. I don’t know, man. I had this weird feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right with you.”

Sam held his breath, feeling a strange ache within him. Dean always knew.

“Everything’s alright, Dean.” I am just slowly going insane here.

There was a heavy pause and Sam was almost convinced that Dean could see through his bullshit. When Dean spoke, his voice held a gravity. “If there’s anything, and I mean anything at all, you’ll call me, right?”

“Who else do I even have?” Sam said in a low defeated voice. “Of course I’ll call you.”

“Now you get back in that bed, and sleep your ass off!”

Amazing how his brother could be so insightful one minute and order him around like he was a three year old the next.

“Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, Sammy.”

*click*

Sam fell back into his bed, staring at the perfect beige ceiling. It hadn’t been more than two years since he’d moved in the faculty accoms and what with all that had happened since, he’d never had the time to move out, or even properly look for a better place.

He closed his eyes, knowing perfectly well how pointless it was. Sleep wasn’t going to come… what came instead was the image of her, looking at him with absolute horror from the top row of the lecture hall. And despite everything that had happened, Sam had wanted nothing more than to run across the steps and hold her in his arms. Hold her so tight and never let go.

However, before he could move, she had fled the room, like mirage. Leaving him to question if it had been real at all. Maybe the years had got to him and he was hallucinating. It was the first time in his career that he’d frozen on the dais. And only when someone called his name, had he come back to the now.

In fact, he’d been so sure that it had just been a play of his mind, that he’d left the class promptly and actually verified the student admission list from the administration office.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

After that all he could do was walk back to his house aimlessly.

This couldn’t be happening. What was he going to do? Run back to her? Find her and then what?

Things weren’t the same now. He didn’t know anything about her life anymore.

Then the anger came.

How dare she? How could she have absolutely destroyed him like that and then come waltzing back into his life just when he had managed to put it back together, painfully and piece by piece.

He could go back and take a look at her entire application; know what she had been up to. But would that even matter?

Sam had spent the whole day just sitting by himself in the dark, and even the next. Calls from work, and college be damned. He couldn’t go in there and pretend like he didn’t care, that he didn’t want to rage and riot and ask her why she had left him like that!

But he was more than just a heartbroken man. And he wasn’t twenty five anymore. He had responsibilities now, people who looked up to him. So locking himself up wasn’t an option. He had to face the world, even when he didn’t want to. Especially then.

When he stepped into the room on Friday, he’d made up his mind to not look for her. The eye contact might not mean anything to her, but it just might be his undoing. And after all he had been through, he couldn’t fall apart now. These were his students and they didn’t need to see that.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried at all. Y/N wasn’t there. Had she run off again? Was it really such a bad thing for her to be in the same room as him?

It took him a while to get on track. Knowing that she wasn’t there, did help, made it easier to concentrate, easier to set out the syllabus.

Over the weekend, Sam made a game plan- pretend that she didn’t exist, whether or not she attended classes. If he convinced himself that she was still gone, he could go on with the lecture. After all, he could do it for two hours a day. It shouldn’t have to be that hard.

It was very hard.

She wore purple on Monday, and he’d be damned if he didn’t admit that his heart sped up when he saw her. That one glance was all Sam allowed himself. It took every ounce of his will power to concentrate on what he was speaking.

It did not get any easier as the week passed. Sam did get better at controlling his face, if not his emotions and by Thursday, even managed a few jokes that hit the mark. All the while, he didn’t dare look at her, still not confident that he could handle it. It helped that he was busy with a twisted property matter at work that required multiple trips to the court. It kept him engaged and his mind occupied.

Sam was so ready for the weekend by the time Friday rolled in. One more class and he’d be free of the agony for two more days.

He did not look at her still. He came very close once, when the girl right ahead of her answered a question, but his gaze only lasted long enough to make out that she was wearing beige today.

In the minutes after the class ended, a small group of students gathered around him asking doubts about the topic. It was a somewhat hard concept to understand, and it provided him with further distraction.

Next to them, a commotion caught his eye, A boy was standing on the side of the dias. Right next to him stood Y/N.

“Thank you, but I already have plans for the weekend,” she said, her voice polite.

Sam clenched his fists. The sound of her voice was enough to repeal each and every effort he’d put into remaining fortified through the week.

Her voice was just as soft and kind. Without consciously deciding to, he abandoned the conversation he was having completely to listen to her, yearning more for the sound of her voice like his life depended on it. Another girl had joined Y/N and the boy. Then, Y/N left, without saying anything.

“Mr. Winchester?”

Sam wrenched himself back into the conversation. It was the girl who had answered his question.

“Mr. Winchester, my name’s Rebecca Staten,” she said, leaning close. “What about the internship applications? At Acton Griswold.”

Sam wanted to roll his eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. The hiring is all HR, and I have little to no say in it.”

“Oh, but it would be wonderful getting to work with you.”

Sam backed away quickly, grabbing his case and laptop. “I assure you working with me is highly overrated. See you next week!” He concluded and left the class in a hurry.

The moment he was out, the anger returned, at her and himself. She didn’t care about what happened to him, and yet here he was pining after her like a lovestruck teenager. She already had plans, while he spent his evenings in darkness trying to get her out of his head.

Now, Sam lay in his bed, still clutching to his phone even after Dean had long hung up.

It was 5:30 and for once he didn’t feel like stepping out of his bed. Who knew? Maybe the world had some more crap to fling in his face.

Sam closed his eyes remembering the day when he’d first realised what she meant to him.

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

21st July 2006

“If you stayed quiet any longer, I’d have to start worrying,” Dean said, glancing at his brother from the driver’s seat.

“What?” Sam shrugged.

“You know what I’m talking about!”

“You don’t know shit!”

Dean shushed, glancing at a sleeping Jo in the backseat of their car. “She had a rough night,” Dean whispered. “Stop shouting. You’ll wake her up.”

So much concern. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you’re the one to act pricey,” Dean hissed. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s up with you.”

“What’s up with me?”

“It’s that girl, Y/N. Isn’t it?” Dean asked. “You’re worried about her.”

Sam said nothing. What was he going to tell Dean when he himself didn’t know why he was so worried for her.

She had gone mute with shock at first when Jo broke the news to her. Slowly as her face started to crumple, she looked at him once and excused herself to go upstairs. Jo had given him one sympathetic look as he stood there in the middle of their living room, then followed her cousin to the room. He had seen himself out after the maddening urge to run after Y/N, hold her and comfort her had been squished. Afterall, he barely knew her… it wasn’t his place to comfort her in any way… and yet, it had simply felt wrong to walk out of that house knowing she was distraught.

He had been restless since, unable to concentrate on preparation for his interview. Her sweet smile and then the shocked look on her face kept coming back to him, to the point where he regretted not following her to her room. Maybe, just maybe she would have let him help.

Ellen had driven Y/N to her hometown that evening, while Jo had stayed back to look after the diner. Dean, who Sam suspected was more than just sweet on her had been making home calls for leaking sinks and what not.

Now it was his turn to drive her to the funeral. Sam had ridden along without really explaining to either of them… why? He needed to figure that one out for himself first.

“I just- I don’t even know why I’m going there,” Sam said, finally. “I mean, you’re driving your girlfriend. What am I doing?”

Surprisingly, Dean didn’t contest the girlfriend part, neither did he make a sarcastic retort.

“You have plenty of time to find out,” Dean said, without taking his eyes off the road.

“She’s just so different,” Sam thought out loud.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Jo said from the back seat. She was up and looked absolutely exhausted. “It’s so hard to get through to her.”

“What do you mean?”

Jo stretched her arms and ran her hands down her dress, trying to smoothen it. “I have never been close to her,” she said. “After my aunt and her husband died in the crash, Y/N went to stay with her grandmother. She visited us once in three years or so but never stayed for more than a week. She has always been quiet. Even as a kid she was polite and soft spoken. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her well enough, but I kinda dreaded her visits cause each time she came, mom would have a mini complex over how well-behaved she was and I was a mess.”

Dean chuckled, finding that funny for some reason.

“I love having her over now, though. And I get why she’s been so grown up. Her gran was pretty awesome. She took care of Y/N sure, but Y/N had to take care of her, too. Had to be sincere and not trouble the old lady. Her gran called her ‘the little ray of sunshine.’

Seemed apt enough to Sam. He’d rather die than admit to his brother and Jo, but there was this light that Y/N seemed so full of, that he couldn’t get enough of.

Sam shook his head, dispelling the insane thought, embarrassed.

“This, Y/N,” Dean asked, “She has anyone else?”

In the rear-view mirror, Sam saw Jo shaking her head sadly.

“It’s just us now. I bet mom’s tried to get her to move in with us… but Y/N doesn’t budge. We’ve tried to get her to move here plenty of times.”

“But that meant she’d have had to leave her grandmother,” Sam said. “She wouldn’t have then. What’s stopping her now?”

“Self-respect,” Jo said the word like it was dubious.

Sam understood this better than Jo. The feeling that you were causing discomfort to others, that you were a burden… your existence, an obligation.

Bobby had loved him and Dean like his own kids and Karen had been so sweet, but deep down he and his brother always knew the sacrifices they’d had to make to raise two boys. Cutting the edges to make the ends meet. It had been the reason that the moment Dean was old enough, he’d moved out, pulling Sam with him. And Sam couldn’t have been prouder of his brother. They both missed Bobby and Karen, and the love and warmth, but, at least Bobby didn’t have to break his back overworking now. He could kickback a little and enjoy some privacy with his wife.

Dean was staring straight ahead. From the set of his mouth and the intensity of his eyes, Sam could make out the shift in his brother. A newfound respect for Y/N because of the luxury she had given up for the sake of her grandmother.

When Dean spoke, he confirmed it for Sam. “So, Y/N is by herself now?”

Y/N… and not ‘that girl.’

“It’s just awful,” Jo said angrily. “Y/N loved her gran more than anyone in the world. I don’t know how she’s going to get over this.” Then her voice steeled. “We’re not going to listen to her this time. She can’t live in that crap town by herself. She’ll have to move in with us now.”

“Won’t be that hard to convince her,” Sam added, “She’ll get her acceptances in a month or so and by fall she’ll be off to wherever anyway. It’ll be a matter of a few months. You can press that.”

“Yeah,” Jo said slowly, giving Sam a scrutinising look, like it was slowly dawning to her just how much he knew.

Sam cleared his throat and looked out of the window.

Jo pointed the directions to the church when they reached the town and Dean found the perfect parking spot. Sam adjusted his coat as he stepped inside the Church. The funeral was being held in the side room, and almost everyone from the small-ish town seemed to be there. Jo disappeared into the crowd immediately trying to find Ellen, and after a look to make sure that Sam was alright, Dean followed her.

This left Sam all by himself in a funeral full of strangers.

A few elderly women gave him a once over, trying to place him, and Sam moved away quickly, guessing that the family would be up ahead.

“... poor girl… I don’t know what else he has to live for now…”

Sam halted at the words.

Two middle aged women were talking to each other. The second one scoffed lightly. “Literally. Old Gertrude didn’t really own a fortune to leave behind. Just the old house and a now useless bakery. That girl can’t bake to save her life, I’ve heard.”

“Oh, don’t talk like that!” The first woman said, “That child’s distraught!”

“She’s no child,” said the other woman, whom Sam was beginning to hate, “She’s eighteen. At her age I was married to my Robert and little Jonathan was already on his way. Besides, she’s a jinx, don’t you think? Got her parents killed when he was a child and now…”

Sam walked away as fast as he could before he said something in anger that he would regret later.

At the very front, on the podium was a close casket. People moved slowly making hushed conversations around it. At the foot of the casket, next to the rows of chairs stood Ellen, in a sharp, black skirt and jacket, talking to a man in low voice. On the first two chairs sat Jo, Dean beside her. She seemed to be wiping her tears while Dean held her hand.

Sam’s eyes scanned the milling crowd. Y/N was nowhere to be seen amongst them. He looked at the aisle and then at the chairs, finally spotting her on the last chair of the second row, sitting by herself, staring blankly ahead. Then, he noticed the little things… how people were looking at her and then averting their gaze. The expression on her face wasn’t exactly sorrow… it was the look a person’s face might hold after they had lost everything they had. Everything. Just looking at her filled Sam’s heart with dread. Those who wanted to meet her were unable to because Ellen strategically blocked the path to get to her. She’d engage them in a small talk and then they’d go away.

Sam cut across the line of chairs in the 5th row and reached the edge of the hall. The chairs had been arranged in a way that there was little no space left to walk, but Sam managed, flattening himself against the wall and inching towards where Y/N was sitting. He walked right past her to the seat beside her, but she didn’t notice, she didn’t even blink, just stared fixedly at the mural of wreathed flowers over the casket.

“Y/N?” he said quietly, and she startled out of it, unseeing at first, then realising that he was there.

“Sam.”

Her voice was thick and so unsteady that it broke Sam’s heart.

All he wanted to do was reach out and hug her, comfort her in anyway that he could. For now, he placed his hand over hers, something he had done before, so it wouldn’t make her uncomfortable.

“Sam,” she whispered again, gripping his hand tightly with her other. Tight enough to hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” he said fervently, feeling helpless at her pain. “Tell me. Is there anything I can do?”

She looked lost, her Y/E/C eyes flitting from his face to the side and back again. She was about to say something, but at the very moment the pastor called for attention. They were moving the casket. The pastor gestured to everyone to begin moving towards the cemetery. Over his shoulder, Sam could see Ellen giving him a curious look and she wasn’t the only one. There were so many pairs of prying and questioning eyes. To the point where Sam began to doubt whether Y/N would want to be seen with him. However, she held on to his hand steadily as she rose. He stood up with her.

Y/N did not let go of his hand even as they walked to the churchyard, and Sam stopped giving a single care about what anyone was thinking. Her hold on him was steady, but her fingers still shook and her other hand was clutching the fabric of her plain grey dress tightly.

The pastor asked her if she had any last words to say for her grandmother. Y/N resolutely shook her head and they lowered the casket into the earth. People walked up to her to offer condolences, hugs and words of kindness, and she nodded in acknowledgement, eyes cast downwards.

Sam wondered how it looked to others. Did she appear to be a graceful image of grief? Elegant in her sorrow? Or whatever crap the crazy writers were writing these days. To him the shiver of her lips, the rapid rise and fall of her chest was very clear... very there! She wasn’t some beautiful, solitary figure of sadness, she was a person, breathing and living, who was barely keeping it together.

Ellen was the last to hug her, tightly. Sam had to let go for her hand.

“It’ll be alright, Darling,” Ellen said, stroking her Y/H/C hair. “It might not feel like it now, but things will be fine.”

No they wouldn’t. Things would never be fine, Sam knew. Not the fine that Y/N was used to… She’d just learn to live around the hollow of her missing Gran. One day at a time she’d get used to living like this… and that would become her new fine.

Jo hugged the two of them behind and Y/N closed her eyes, damp now, returning the hug tightly.

Almost everyone but Sam, Dean, Jo, Ellen and Y/N had gone back to the church for the dinner.

“Do you want to go inside?” Ellen asked, when she finally disentangled herself.

Y/N shook her head. “I’d like to stay here for a while.”

Ellen looked unsure but she nodded. “I’ll be inside. You’ll come find me?”

Y/N nodded gratefully.

“Okay then.”

Jo kissed her cousin on the cheek and left with her mother.

Dean walked over to Y/N, his step somewhat hesitant. “I know what it’s like to lose your parents as a child,” he said quietly. So quietly that Sam could barely hear it. “And I know what it’s like to live your life for just that one person who is left behind with you-” he gaze flickered towards Sam- “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. God knows I’d not want to live for a minute if something happened to- happened to Sammy.”

She looked up, a spark of fear in her eyes. Her whole frame jerked. Dean was taken aback just for a split second before an understanding look dawned on his face. Sam didn’t recognise even a bit of what had just passed between them.

He was even more surprised when all of a sudden Dean opened his arm and Y/N let him hug her briefly.

He might have whispered something, or it might have been nothing at all, but when he let go, she held on to his sleeve.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, her eyes brimming now, tears starting to flow earnestly for the first time.

“You look after yourself now,” Dean said gently. “I’ll see you inside.”

He clapped Sam on the shoulder and after casting one long look at her, Sam turned to leave with his brother.

“Sam!”

Her voice was stronger now, and no sooner had she uttered the words, he was moving to be next to her.

“Will you… will you stay with me?” She asked, eyes expectant, and beyond anguished.

“Of course,” he said breathlessly.

He looked back to ask his brother to leave, but Dean was already at the gate of the churchyard, walking further away.

The sun was setting against the horizon in front of them, and the chill in the air was beginning to settle. Y/N rapped her arms around herself. Sam remembered the first time he had seen her do that, outside the bar. He would have shrugged out of his coat had Y/N not unfolded her wrap and thrown it over her shoulders. She leaned towards him, and as if it was the most natural thing to do, Sam wrapped one arm around her shoulder, drawing her close against his side. He let her borrow whatever warmth she needed on this cold, cruel evening.

“Sam,” Y/N said after a while. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

He didn’t reply, simply ran his hand over the side of her arm, as they stood silently in front of the freshly covered grave.

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

Sam opened his eyes, almost smelling the air from that evening, almost feeling the heat of her body. Then sighed.

He needed to stop doing this to himself. Some might say it would have been easier to forget it all. Sam didn’t believe in that. He’d revisited the memories that meant so much to him over and over, till he remembered the last detail, till he could go relive them at his beck and call.

Of course they brought a boat load of pain, even the good memories, but Sam considered it a good bargain, all things considered. He hadn’t wanted to live a day where he couldn’t remember the precise colour of her eyes, or the sweet shyness of her smile.

And now precisely this habit of his was screwing him over when the real Y/N was right in front of him, and he couldn’t reach out to touch her like he could in the memories.

Then again, the real Y/N didn’t care for him one way or another.

Sleep wasn’t going to come purely because it was a Saturday. Lying around in bed was pointless. He rolled over in the bed and his eyes fell on the photo on his night stand.

Looking at the picture, the loneliness hit afresh. The person in the photo had become his sole reason to live as a functional human for the past two years. Sam missed those arms around his neck more than he could put into words. The missing was so bad, that it almost twisted his guts.

“Two more weeks,” he reminded himself. Two more weeks and he could see that face, that dimpled smile again. It was his reason to smile.

He placed a kiss on the frame and got out of the bed. Better to be productive than mope around all day. And who knew, if he managed to get busy, maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t think about Y/N.

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

A/N 2: So now that we something about Sam. What are y’all thinking? ;)

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stoplookingatmeblog · 3 years

Text

twenty-one

It was around that time that all my friends went to work in different chapters of what you can call ‘the filming industry’. P-G shot beer adverts which used some kinds of robotics to get the right shot, flip the bottle right, and then slept with this girl who offered him a paid internship in managing pretty much everything on sets of a bunch of movies, ads and whatnot. My own mother, finally getting out of the convenient but unemancipated housewife life, got a job in supervising the shoot - making sure the costumes were right, the scenography, all that stuff. It was pretty much, you could call it, the time of Life On Set Then - everywhere you went, ads, movies, Netflix series, all of it wrapped up in fake police ‘do not cross’ kind of tape, horses and knights from our beer-bottles riding the streets, and the catering busses with food that was (mother told me) ‘absolute horeshit’. Whatever. The time was of living in a reality created for money, by money, with money, because of money, giant heaps of money, distributed unequally (of course) to all my student friends who didn’t even need the money except for that feel of ‘life on their own’.

I didn’t have a job. Before not working, I worked a couple of cafes, restaurants and the like. That was the vibe. I hated it. Each time I began working in one of these places, I ended up sleeping with someone (first time a guy, and then a girl or woman that was honestly too old for me) and that I hoped marked the end of relationship with gastronomy for me. So I didn’t work, deciding not to decide what to do next, not putting myself on the road to one kind of future or another. I didn’t want life to go anywhere directed. I thought about writing but then I thought about the seriousness and stiffness of writing, whether or not it’s a purely natural act, all that, and decided on trying to squeeze the last drops of childhood (it was adolescence, but adolescence is really a final sigh of childhood) and live what was left of the kid-life to the fullest.

I was twenty-one years old.

A group of friends convinced me to go with them surfing (on my parents’ money), to Victoria, a place which location doesn’t really matter, except that I thought, and still do, that the spot is an actual a piece of heaven on earth. A nearly imaginary point on the increasingly smaller map of this melting planet. My age, too, was melting away like icecream - not having a job and surfing in Victoria, like a teenage pimple, some place that popped up and presented itself in its complete and vulgar form and purpose that you initially didn’t believe and then wept after at that airport because you could never come back. It was an actual speck of heaven on the map.

Even though everyone was younger than us - four of us, me, P-G, J, and Stone (the last one, a tired intellectual I could never get tired of, except you could see he was really both bored and exhausted by being born and living as himself. And his nickname surprisingly not derived from the astronomical amounts of weed he smoked but his actual god-given surname (which he thought of changing, because of his father) - even though everyone who came to Victoria was younger than us by something like three or four years, we surprisingly didn’t have trouble at least getting along, and at most sleeping with girls there. It was even more grand in that way, even if absolutely not true, when you saw yourself in their eyes as someone older and somehow experienced, who somehow kept going on, and somehow knew what was going on. The same lie made most of us, (excluding me, as I mentioned) get a job around that time. In movies and advertisements, with no creative input or control, but like actors that nobody knew about, playing their own invented parts backstage.

I was twenty-one years old and completely aware of both how small and how big that was. I knew about the kinds of things I probably should be doing and that’s why I sometimes did them, for a minute putting my feet into that creek too, but most of the time staying at the bank and just watching. I knew what being twenty-one meant, so I decided to sit back and watch it.

My friends all surfed a lot, which would normally bother me because I did it only for the first week of our month-long stay, but quickly dropped it and decided to stay at the beach and read, and drink and look at some really beautiful girls who passed me by, and for once enjoy that stranger-life. By the second week, after seeing in a restaurant a shirt with a ‘SeXsurfing ‘00’ inscription on it (‘00 being the year we were born, which made us inspect our parents’ lifelines to check for the possibility that at that time some of them were in Victoria), and in the twenty-one-year-old drunk epiphanius inspiration, all four of us decided that we would lead the ‘SeXsurfing ‘21’ lifestyle, not thinking about the ‘42 and the ‘63 and all that shit.

I wasn’t the most successful one when it came to girls, but I can say that the stories I had with them were the most absurd and worthy of telling. Even though it was J who (and he too asked himself why in the world that was) was able to talk with someone new every evening, somehow perhaps betraying my unwanted by nonetheless existing monogamous attachment, I slept with only one girl over the course of the last week, picking her up (or perhaps her picking me up) through a conversation about our shared borderline-sociopathic or rebellious outlook on reality. That was very twenty-one.

Our first meeting (like every meeting since) was going to one of the three tourist shops on the beach and stealing something. And that too was very twenty-one. We were rich enough (our parents were) and far away from home enough to do all that. And we were both young and beautiful enough to want a mugshot we could keep from an arrest by a Victoria Police County Jail or whatever it might have been called. We were never caught but we did steal something every day, and then get drunk in the evening, and then fuck in the night. While my friends had these singular, although beautiful, encounters I would drunkenly burst into the closed restaurant with my temporary girl-friend, steal absolutely vile icecream from the fridge, and then play chess with her on the hotel rooftop at four AM.

The four of us were twenty-one years old and born in the year 2000 which in the same way made sense - our lives were easy to calculate, clearly-definededly started, and even if they had to end with no thing coming back or being repeated, the twenty-one points we scored didn’t mean anything except the joyride and experiment, and meaningless game that it was. We were taking our shot at living, taking our shot at playing, and even when we didn’t win, it still didn’t mean anything. We lived on our parents’ money, or on advertisement money, or cafe-sleep-with-someone-there-and-then-leave-because-you-don’t-need-money money, all of it a mystification, but that those twenty-one years led to nothing we suddenly did not care.

Well, and then being woken up by the police, although surprisingly not because of the icecream dream but for the crime of sleeping in a hammock on the dunes which (I learned) was territory of both the military and part of some natural park.

What made me go home with something in the end were the conversations we had at that time, and in particular the conversations with Stone. Like me, Stone had a feeling of injustice done to him by his family, not having a real father and hanging down on the tired gray hair of our housewife mothers and all, and it made us connect on a level we didn’t with either P-G or J, who were most often busy surfing or thinking about the jobs they had or would one day have, and the girls they met that weren’t my girls so I didn’t care that much.

Stone kept affirming that both of us (although him in particular) were in possession of superior intelligence, which I instinctively tried to discourage him from saying (because I didn’t like sucking my own dick like that), but nonetheless accepted as at least potentially or partially true. In my case, it was not intelligence that me connect with Stone but some kind of a shared understanding of what was going on, that we were twenty-one and what that meant, like a filthy two-pigeon flock of pigeons flying above the waves, knowing the fact of the creature swimming underneath the surface. I thought, and still do, it had to do largely with coming from an unhappy or non-existent family, which really makes you understand that all you do, with even the most meaningful and beautiful things, is just this game that you play but holds no particular meaning beyond it. That and that love, no matter how beautiful or true, can slip away from you like shit.

‘It is completely lonely’, he said one night as we chugged down the bottles of beer drunk rich kids left behind running away from the police - bottles half-empty to me and I think half-full for him, but I still haven’t quite figured that one out, ‘Because you never really see things the way the rest of them do, and each conversation almost the same, you begin to think the only way to be is to be alone’

I agreed. I usually did, being aware that he was slightly more intelligent than me.

‘Back when I was in the Institute, they told me I would have problems with getting out of relationships with people what other people get from other people because what I want is to be understood and that is problematic when you think you want it but also think it’s impossible to ever understand anything’

I too thought you could never understand anything, but had a sense he perhaps only said it to keep me on the same page. Stone chugged down another half-full beer and kept talking. I stayed silent, in part because I would probably say the same things he did.

‘When I was seventeen and worked in a factory, I gained a sort of awareness of how my life would look like’

‘What kind of a factory?’, I asked

‘A cake factory, I would work in the hot section and pull out cakes out of the oven and then fill some of them with cherry, and some of them with apple-cinnamon. And then, because I was seventeen and my work was fundamentally illegal you could say, they’d let me work in the cold section in the night, and I applied sugar coating on these doughnuts, you know’

‘Yeah’

‘And then wrap them up in plastic covering, you know’

‘Yeah, yeah’

‘when the coating was dry, and send them to another section of the factory. And so over and over.’

‘So, what does your life look like because of that, do you think?’

‘I don’t know…’, he took a puff from one of the cigarette butts we found that night in the ashtray, ‘... I guess working in the factory was a kind of almost psychedelic experience that really made me aware what my attitude towards suicide is. You’re young, and you step into that thing, and you do those things because you want to, you don’t need to. Well, you might need to but the need is still your choice, it isn’t honed into your life like… Like I recognised at some point that each cake I filled with the stuffing or coated was an expression of the same kind of thing I did when I smoked weed (a lot), or drunk (a lot) or had sex. That, ultimately, I would never be able to not think about it.’

‘I mean, I think the position we are in - if I understand you correctly - of being relatively well-off - I mean our parents - would make you unable to really plunge into anything that you’re doing, right? Because you ultimately don’t have to do anything, like, really, like here, you always sort of treat it as a game’

‘Not even a game’, he said, and the sun was already slowly creeping up the mountain in front of the shop where we were sitting, ‘But just not a challenge. Because of our intellect, both yours and mine, the only challenge you really face is whether to continue being or not, and the rest is just, you know, stuffing these cakes. But that decision, you know The Myth of The Sisyphus?’

I did.

‘Yeah, so that decision you have to and always will have to make fundamentally alone. And so either go and work - work in any kind of way and do those things and hand them over to others to complete them and you don’t really ask questions (but we can’t do that, neither you nor I) or you step out of the factory and face the living sun, like you’re definitely going to feel after we leave this place, and decide whether you’re more happy alone or with others, or whether you want to keep on handing things to others or not, and all that.’

‘I mean this is the reason I think people shouldn’t have children - I’ve written a piece about it, you should definitely read it - because it’s kind of like juggling with a hot potato and handing it to someone else, so that they have to confront these questions, instead of you, but what you really do is give up.’

At that point I don’t think I understood his cake factory metaphor or didn’t want to believe that I did in the fear that it wasn’t very profound.

‘So what do you think you’d like to actually do?, if you could pick anything at all?’

‘I don’t know’, again inhaling another cigarette butt and handing one to me. And the sun almost rolled its own boulderous weight to the top of the mountain. ‘I think I would like to have a family, especially since meeting May (he was the only one of out SeXsurfing quartet with a girlfriend), I started thinking that maybe I can, and I’m recognising this, give someone something that my father never gave me, hoping to do it right this time’

‘Yeah, I mean that’s literally the ending of my book - have I told you already I’ve written a book? - that the main character thinks he can do it right this time and he of course fucks it up, but I don’t know if I still think that. You know, life is sometimes surprising.’

‘Exactly’, he exalted the smoke, and the sun, previously rolling up the mountain to sunrise, seemed to have fallen back again to the bottom of the mountain, and began its journey anew.

‘I mean, when I was seventeen I worked in a factory…’

‘What kind of a factory?’

‘A psychedelic cake factory’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I worked in this factory and I worked in the hot section and my job was to take the cakes out of the oven and then pump them full of acid, or pot, or sex, or anything you could get your hands on. I guess it was illegal, but then again I was seventeen so my work was all fundamentally illegal.’

‘Where did the cakes later go?’

‘Later? Well in the factory I sent them to another section that I never really saw, but later later to homes, parties, rich people who really wanted to try the kind of stuff their kids were taking, I guess’, he chuckled, ‘It’s interesting, I wonder if my father ever tried one. Maybe in some alternative universe or something. Maybe he ate it and became like me, and dropped everything and went to work in a factory and in that reality they stuffed the cakes with shit like cherry and coated them with sugar, you know, maybe that was the right reality, and later he dropped that job, and went outside of the factory, and made the choice and threw himself under a bus or something.’

‘The right reality.

Maybe.’

Lou from the restaurant (the SeXsufring tshirt we found was in that restaurant) was the kind of man you’d always want to be. We travelled to him for dinner hitchhiking from the beach, in twos, usually P-G and J, and then me and Stone, around seven, or all together if we could sit in the trunk of the car when we travelled in one of the rich-kid rented cabrios, and you would feel the day (same day, every day) a winding road under our feet (like gods, treading on forever) cutting through the mountains and the sunset rolling his boulder somewhere and when you finished eating you’d lie down on the warm good night asphalt with a can and listen to music on one of our phones and wait for someone to take you back to the beach.

But gods that we were, Lou from the restaurant was the kind of man you’d always want to be. It was always a show, too. He would come by people’s tables (our table in particular, because he knew and we knew), this enormous older man dressed in a white sweaty shirt with eyes that looked blind but saw everything, and told us stories about all that he knew, which was pretty much the town, and the town hall, and the restaurant, and everything. And the girls also came there to eat, and everyone too. And everyone knew Lou from the restaurant.

I always ordered things I could not afford because P-G and J were always happy to lend me money, so I ate octopuses and steaks, and everything was everything you’d ever want to eat. There were half-blind, strangely-speckled cats that roamed under the tables, not even expecting guests’ dinner cat-food enjoying the company, like we did, and there were kid cats and mother cats and they would fight on the backdrop of the white-painted summer trees, and some girls would say the cats’ were really poor and imply their lives were wretched and miserable to which I would reply with something like natural selection and they would say that’s a horrible thing to say and then all of us would bite into the steaks that Lou brought us.

After P-G asked him to tell us his version of the legends we heard of from the girls, about his old restaurant, and how someone ruined it and how the paradise moved from Victoria to this new town (I don’t know the name, but it was simply Lou’s town), and it seemed like god himself was telling us the story, dusting it off, driving away the spiders and the snakes, an old book or a chapter in a book that everyone on the beach talked about but it seemed nobody actually heard. Except the four of us.

‘Well so you know I’m really electrician’, he began, ‘but at one moment I tell my wife - let’s build restaurant. So I go to the town hall, here’, and he pointed to a building not ten meters away, ‘and the auction close at 12, I go in at 11:56 and the price is 12000 and I go in and say 60000. So I get the restaurant and everyone crazy and angry at me but I have it.’, I cut out the portion of the steak and chewed on it orgasmically. Everything Lou cooked was good as hell. ‘So I build restaurant…’

‘But not here, right, on the beach?’, P-G, who heard most versions of the story interrupted

‘Yes, the beach. So I build restaurant and first year I make so much money I put it in…’, his broken eyes and mad half-blind english were both looking for the word, ‘like bags, plastic bags, trash bags, and it is so much I count it then in winter, because I have no time in summer. So it is good, so much money, going great. And then in year two thousand and… two thousand just, maybe, I go away for holiday and they call me “your restaurant is destroyed”, I say “no you’re kidding me”, and they say “no, no, they burn restaurant down, come back”. So I come back, and true, the restaurant is destroyed, and you cannot build it again because the law that was there changed so you cannot build now.’, as he was telling the story, Lou’s eyes stayed monotonously bland, bright and staring somewhere beyond. A true restaurateur, he never stopped looking at what was going on at the other tables so at that point he stood up, saying ‘I finish the story in moment’, and went to take care of something in the kitchen.

Then when he finally came back, he said:

‘So where was I now tell me.’

‘Your restaurant was burned down when you were out of the country’, I reminded him

‘Yes. So I move here and build new restaurant, and it is small but people come like before and they even fight for to eat, and they ask “you finished already, let us eat”, and my restaurant again now is doing well, very well, and people come, and still I don’t have space, but people come’

‘And is it going better or worse than in the previous location?’, P-G asked

‘No, there there was more money but here is good. Very good.’, he waved his grubby big hand at all the tables packed with people, girls, others like us. And he laughed with his tongue flying up and down in his mouth in a way some people find repulsive, but to us it was Lou from the restaurant, and Lou from the restaurant could honestly laugh in whichever goddamn way he pleased.

‘Ok, I’m sorry but I have to go again, the people’, he pointed to the kitchen, ‘don’t know what they do’

Our twenty-one year old quartet replied ‘of course, of course’, in unison and for a while we sat there chewing our steaks, and fish and octopus, and another steak, silently, only saying a couple of words of admiration for Lou from the restaurant, the man you’d always want to be.

‘There are snakes and scorpions here’, P-G told me one time we went to the more rocky part of the dunes near where our tent was pitched. ‘So we have to be super careful, especially during the day. In the night they sleep in their wretched little caves or among the rocks, they won’t bother us in our sleep.’

But they will bother us when we’re awake, or when we think we are, but are someplace else, like Lou from the restaurant who went for holidays. You stop paying attention to what is slithering or crawling in the sand and one time as you are looking for a nice and fresh cigarette butt lost in the sand, BAM, and you are dead, like that (Lou’s grubby old hand falling down on the wooden table with a thud).

We were twenty-one years young and on holidays from either a job in advertising or not yet having a job in advertising, and there were girls and waves, and sand, and scorpions, and it was all a joyride so we didn’t really think about that. Well, to be honest, not much could go wrong - another day, like groundhog day, would be more or less the same, always better and better and better. And the shrinking, melting map - warmer and warmer and warmer.

The worst that could happen, we knew, was the police coming in and chasing us away from the dunes (because it was both military grounds and a national park at the same time). But that wasn’t that bad, after all, it was police in paradise, and we felt so much love for them as we did for the scorpios and the snakes and it was just impossible for them to not love us back.

Well, hen one day it happened. It was after I woke up with her, for the first time in two weeks sleeping in an actual bed, but more importantly for the first time in perhaps a year sleeping with a warm body next to my heart, next to me, in my hands, falling asleep with my lip still in her teeth. I woke up in the morning and having the bare level of awareness of my state, that I must stink and will not be fun to be around in the morning (although the fresh air made hangovers impossible - what can I say, it was paradise), I decided to go back to the our camp on the dunes and sleep off the night in a hammock I usually inhabited.

There were usually some locals (working in restaurants and the shops I stole flip-flops from) who like devils crawled out in the night and tried to party with the twenty-one year old us, drinking our booze and smoking our smokes, so when the white-poloed guy woke me up like bad sunrise saying ‘Police, wake up, police’, in sly english and a broken smile, my instinctive reaction was to reply with a classic ‘Shut the fuck up, you’re not police’, but after seeing one of them who definitely was police, with a uniform and gun and all, I complied with their request for my ID and let them write me a pink slip of paper demanding a fine so astronomic that none of them could not possibly believe I’d actually pay it. A younger policeman (also not uniformed) asked me what happened to my neck and, explaining a bruise that could only look like a love bite (and indeed it was), I replied that I was bitten by a wild animal (and indeed I was). He said that with that bruise-like love bite and a half-unbuttoned shirt I looked like a ‘star, rock star, you know’, and we both laughed, and I decided none of it was that bad after all. He looked like a ‘star, rock star, you know’, as well, slightly unfashionable but at the same time completely incredible in bluish sunglasses, a pink polo shirt and slightly silver but naturally black hair. In Victoria, the snake, too, was quite handsome, and what he ruined, at the end of the day, was only an hour of my sleep.

I met Lou from the restaurant - he saw some creature, and its wretched work, destroying his restaurant, but his bright, half-blind, all-seeing eyes burned with nothing but love. And mine, slowly but surely, started to shimmer with it too. The days, or the same day, grew brighter and brighter, and the nights drunker and drunker and the driving drunk on the beach got faster and faster, and more and more people fitting into one car, with no winding-road end in sight.

There was no hangover in Victoria, but going anywhere in the morning was especially difficult, as if the gravitational force doubled, or thriced, or quadrupled.

Stone, who had an admirable ability to make contact with any kind of an alien species of a person (that I really envied), found himself one night in a conversation with a russian maths student (the Russian started university well before the usual age, he was like 17), and when the next day we asked what the two talked about Stone only said ‘I think we are a week away from merging the theory of relativity with quantum mechanics. But give me another bottle and it will be one day.’

The Russian, Stone told us, was one of the ‘exceptionally intelligent’ ones (which Stone, had the habit of identifying and cataloguing into his set of people ‘worth talking to’). The Russian was younger than us - perhaps sixteen or seventeen, as I mentioned which really gave everything he said an additional benefit of seemingly prodigy-like, but also made Stone wonder whether he was a kind of a father-figure to the exceptionally intelligent maths student, that considering leading Stone to the two days later declaration that it was undoable, stemming from Stone’s own desire to redeem his father’s abusive absence et cetera et cetera.

The Russian was so socially inept, that even I was doing quite well (it was not superior intelligence, that barred me from connecting with others, as Stone asserted). A prodigy, the Russian spoke not just maths and Einstein, but quite good english, french (from my limited knowledge I could confirm also quite good), spanish and bulgarian (which I had absolutely no idea about but he sounded possessed and speaking in tongues when he presented his abilities to us). He could play giftedly most instruments you could think of, but playing, he said, never really excited him. He was one of those kids who know and can do so much they would really rather not do it at all.

Because of our groups’ incidental and unexpected but intense interactions with girls, the Russian treated us with an unjustified reverence, but it was not any kind of envy, with a mind like that you don’t really envy anything except being able to rest from what’s in your head and for once have a good night’s sleep. There is a scene in the movie Beautiful Mind where the main character, a schizophrenic, lays out to a girl he likes, very systematically, astrophysically like, why she should sleep with him. I bet that’s what the Russian would do too in the future.

There is another scene in a movie - Interstellar where a group of astronauts looking for humanity’s potential new home (the map contracting, the world getting small since the year ‘00, now twenty-one, then ‘42 then ‘63, warmer and warmer and warmer), the group of astronauts lands on a planet, of constant, unending sea, sees in the distance what they think is the great mountains of a new found land. After a couple of minutes of advancing towards the mountains, Matthew Mcconaughey says in hollywood style ‘these are not mountains. These are waves’ and the four astronauts have to flee the slowly approaching catastrophic demise of the wave, which, due to a fucked-up gravity on the planet, rose to that catastrophic height.

At six AM, after one of the exceptionally drunk nights, with the sun already in full swing, and the alcoholic gravity fucked-up in their heads, Stone and J went to catch a wave bigger than at any time of the day.

While I was sleeping off the night in the hammock, with God knows what dreams, or maybe even no dreams at all, and P-G tossing and turning in the tent, and Stone and J surfing the morning wave, the Russian sat solemnly and alone on the sunrise beach and looked up at the starless sky, wiped clean by one gigantic white star which at that point (he knew, we didn’t know) was so big and close to the contracting map that it sucked out some of the time and some of the space from the air, making the tide rise more than at any time of the day. He knew why that was and we didn’t know but we were looking at the same thing, the earth getting warmer and warmer and warmer, and the wave growing higher and higher and

And we would sometimes go away from Victoria, to a nearby town where the waves were always bigger and we marvelled at how they whip-cracked, splash-fell and rocked against the concrete-lined shore and drowned the air underneath with all their might, worked it into white foam. He knew and we didn’t, and while we lay down with girls looking into the stars and talking about constellations (only to then laugh about how drunk and absurd it is to think three stars can possibly represent the shape of a great bear or big dipper or any kind of stupid shit like that), The Russian tried to crack the code written in the stars. Looking for a new home for us. The four of us walked the shore and wondered about the origin of colorful pebbles spat out by the lapping magnificent waves, and he could probably tell us everything about each of them, trace lines from each falling star to each stone we cast mindlessly into the sea.

He could explain the shifting realities when the morning came, and why, at seventeen, you have to do certain things and not the others, and now, too, why we did all those things, why we worked in psychedelic factories and sung our hearts out to the bass of the speaker. Why we ran after girls beach-length and back, why we hitchhiked to Lou’s restaurant, why we came to Victoria in the first place, why we had jobs in advertising, why we were twenty-one, but Stone was right about one thing - the Russian was ‘fundamentally alone’

There is another scene in Interstellar, the next one after the giant wave, where Matthew Mcconaughey comes back to the spaceship waiting in the orbit of a water-mountain-these-are-not-mountains planet, discovers that time, tied with an invisible string to the fucked-up gravity) passes differently on the surface of the planet, in its orbit, and in general completely differently back on the contracting earth’s map where he left his children. How old were at the time he left in that movie - I can’t remember, let’s say twenty-one. Having spent only half an hour on the surface, he now plays the received messages from back home and sees his children’s lifetimes growing older and older and older and finally sees them surpassing them in age. He breaks down in tears and I suppose you could say he, too, was ‘fundamentally alone’

The Russian, Stone told us, was taught privately by a tutor who’s line of mathematical origin could be traced all the way to Gauss or someone. He could speak Einstein, french and spanish, and although his tongue got tied in human conversations, one day, as we drank beer on a small patch of grass in front of the local hotel, he proclaimed there was something very important we wanted to tell us. Concluding that the Russian was most definitely possessed by something (you could tell when he spoke bulgarian), we all decided listening would do no harm but at worst would be so incredible that we would not believe it.

‘You guys are now young and strong and you surf and all, but seriously, you have to do sports’, he began, ‘I don’t mean just any sport but something that really puts weight on your muscles. Like rowing or pumping on the bench, you have to train and now prepare for the rest of your life. And cardio, too, it will save you from heart disease and such.’ - and you can imagine mine, our surprise and feeling of absurdity that a being like that was uttering sentences such as these at that moment.

And that was it, the only normal set of words he ever uttered in front of us, which in his mouth was not normal at all - this man, trained by Gauss himself, had one recommendation to us and it was to do sports because it will help us to stay healthy in the future.

In space, the state of weightlessness makes the unused muscles grow weak, and the astronauts have to use the special gym machines installed on their spaceship so that their bodies don’t entropy, and heart is a muscle, too, I think, and I wondered, briefly, after what the Russian told us, if it too can die with no gravity. And it seems that time is a muscle too. It contracts and then it unfolds, it squeezes and releases and lets you breathe and suffocates, and ultimately things seem neither good nor bad but just what they ended up being. Time can definitely die away and fall from you like a dead leaf. Or it can end up a pretty stone under the feet of a giant wave. You don’t feel how it squeezes and unfolds, how it lays you down in a warm bed in the arms of someone you didn’t ever know but who reminds you of everything.

Matthew Mcconaughey - seeing messages from the future, past, present, now, never, always, and breaking down into tears, his heart breaking from weightlessness.

I was twenty one and I knew what it meant.

And in a year I would be twenty two, and in another year twenty three, and in three years twenty four. And the astrology girls, going with us skinny dipping in the midnight water, they will disappear somewhere under the waves and start slowly fading away from our lives like an unused muscle.

J loved quoting this one scene from Matthew Mcconaughey's first movie:

‘You know what I love most about college girls? I get older - they stay the sameeeee age’

And each time he said it, he laughed with the greatest, purest laughter you could find on this now planet.

‘And I got caught one time’

‘For what?’

‘Well, maybe two, but only one time involved the police. Second time. And that was me trying to steal an album, well, it was called Steal This Album’ - I was lying, although I did also steal that album, but having trouble with the police was for an attempted theft of headphones though that didn’t sound as sexy. And for some reason which made me feel real good I was flirting with the most beautiful girl under the good sun by us recounting our thefts both real or invented.

We both quickly settled that we had some borderline immoral thread running through our veins but drew the line at actually killing someone. We were rich and young enough to say those things and be all sexy about it. We knew we didn’t have to steal but arranged we should do it together and some point (‘ok, why not tomorrow?’) and it was beer first, and then flip flops the next and then another day a pink swimming mattress from the backseat of some rich and young and abandoned rented cabrio. And we took it swimming, drunkenly in the night. Rich and young, and full of stars.

We stepped into the calm sea, small waves, shallow, and took off our clothes, most of them, and took our pink stolen mattress against the waves, her covering small breasts with only her hands, our sociopathic personalities meeting somewhere under ridiculous notions of astrology. We kissed, and that was that.

The mattress lay once again abandoned (has someone left the rented cabrio just as we left the shore?) where our friends would say it was ridiculous to steal it. We only stopped kissing when she said we have to look for the damn pink abandoned thing (apparently it was rented by one of her friends) after which we dived deep into the shallow sea.

I remembered all those things other than sex best. The kiss in the sea. The conversation about stealing shit, the hand covering breasts. And after sex, the interruptions of it by my taking sips from a big bottle of booze, and playing chess on the rooftop of the place we stole from.

‘And I got caught one time’

‘For what?’

‘Stealing mattresses, and flip flops, and beer, but it was good, the time I did treated me well’

‘How long were you in for?’

‘Hmm I don’t know, around eight decades’

‘Woah, how old were you when you got caught?’

‘Like, twenty-one’

‘Shit, but you say it was good?’

‘Yeah. It was good life’

2 notes · View notes

saladejin · 4 years

Text

Call An Uber? | 05

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word Count: 4k

< masterpost >

A/N: Hey there tumblr readers! This story might not seem all that angsty or plot-heavy in these first few chapters, but I promise it builds into it. I apologise for all the slow burn, I just can’t help myself ^^;

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

Getting home after the calming car ride seemed a tad anti-climactic. Weariness from the day piled high onto my shoulders, and as I threw my bag into the corner of my bedroom, I all but flopped onto the bed unceremoniously.

The small apartment wasn’t much, but it was enough to sustain me. The landlord was polite at least, and the rent was luckily just within my budget for now. It consisted of a small kitchen and a cosy living room all in one tiny, yet open space. A door led into the one and only bedroom of the apartment, which was also lacking in spaciousness, but it wasn’t as if anyone else was living here. All in all, it was adequate despite not really being something I was used to.

Laying silently on the bed allowed my thoughts and memories from the day to shroud my mind. I remembered how helpless and overwhelmed I’d been feeling when escaping into the carpark of the building, and how my responsibilities had come crashing through like swelling waves of inky ocean water.

Feeling lost was one way to describe that moment, but Yoongi had consoled me to a point where I felt stable and supported. Even if he didn’t mean to show it directly, of which I wasn’t so sure, his way of letting me know he cared hadn’t been lost on me. I was usually good at noticing these things, so it was surprising to see that he wanted to show the gentle side of him tonight. I guess I really was finding out how these boys lived. I was seeing their thought processes with my own very eyes, something vital that was missing in my connection with them before.

Things were happening quickly, but I was ready to let them happen with welcoming, open arms. I was going to absolutely thrive in this new lifestyle, so why let stress weigh me down like a pile of bricks? I just wouldn’t let it.

Rolling over to smooth down the pale bedsheets with my fingers, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to the sharp eyes of Yoongi, the dazzling smile of Jimin, Namjoon’s dimples…and just all seven of them. I needed to let them know how their fans felt, and I needed them to let me know if they had any doubts about their popularity and future. This could be one of my purposes, and a goal combined with many, many ARMYs. If I had the chance to console them, just like Yoongi had with me, then I would jump at the opportunity with no malignant intentions. I only wanted to help them and share with them the happiness they had given me throughout the years. To groove out their misgivings and straying negativity that allowed unnecessary stress and anxiety to build.

This was my purpose.

The days scorched hotter and hotter, meaning another short meeting for us at the firm. Nobody wanted to stay inside a sticky office filled with the sounds of stuttering air conditioners and electric fans, so Bang PD let everyone go home earlier than usual. When I say earlier, I mean mid-afternoon anyway, so it’s not like it’s actually early.

I’d finally started out with my new job, and so far things had gone swimmingly. The staff were continuously friendly, and the workload was nothing too devastating. Since the company had been a little short on multilingual interpreters, the amount of language related jobs had been growing over time. I could have been overwhelmed, but instead it was somehow smooth sailing from the get-go.

Things were going splendidly, but I wondered about what was going to happen with my Uber job. Would I just stop? It wasn’t like I needed the money from it now, so what would even be the point of it? Meeting new people from all cultures and backgrounds wouldn’t even be an issue at all. Maybe, just maybe the idea of giving up my job as a glorified taxi driver was an imminent one.

The office had been bustling today, but I knew it was because everyone was focused on preparing for the upcoming BTS concert. One of the company’s translators held out some papers from where he sat in his wheeling chair. “(Y/n)-ssi, could you please drop these down to the stylists? I translated the articles like they asked, so they’ll want to have a look as soon as possible.”

“Of course. I was about to bring them some coffee anyway. They’ve been working tirelessly,” I smiled at him and grasped the papers. It seemed the marketing management had wanted select articles about their fashion sense, hair styling and makeup to be translated from various languages.

I scurried to the kitchen area where I’d already started on the coffees. Someone had graciously told me how most of the stylists liked their drinks, and I knew they would need it after how much they had been testing makeup supplies and hair products downstairs. I shuddered at the thought of having my fingers sticking together from the amount of hairspray circulating the room.

The basement was pretty much where everything happened. Practices, auditions, coaching etc. You name it. After dropping off the notes and coffees, I was showered with gratitude from the stylists and was shocked to see just how tired and worn-down they were. The thought that something big was about to happen caused excitement to curl deep within the pit of my stomach.

Maybe there’ll be new hair colours soon?

“No worries, make sure you get some rest!” I reminded them before letting the door to the changing room click shut.

I was right about the hairspray thing, it was seriously suffocating in there. At least they had some air vents open for ventilation, but I felt bad for those kind-hearted men and women. They would most likely be staying there way into the hours of the night too.

I began to walk back towards the elevator, but my eyes were caught by a bright light flooding from one of the main practice areas. One of the doors had been left wide open, and I glanced inside to see a very expansive room enclosed by pure white walls. The floor was made up of tawny brown floorboards, or maybe vinyl, I wasn’t quite sure. I think it had only recently been renovated.

“(Y/n)? Hello!” a clear and high-pitched voice made me jump in my skin. I looked further into the room to spot Jimin resting in one of the black, wheeling chairs of the studio area. His fading blonde locks had been swept back completely, and I could tell he was tired and sweaty from practicing.

To his left was Hoseok, who seemed distracted until Jimin’s exclamation, and the last person in the room was none other than a certain Kim Taehyung. As soon as the youngest of the three found out I was hiding in the doorframe, his eyes blew wide.

“Hey Jimin, Hoseok-ssi and Taehyung-ssi,” I bowed, as was the custom, and made my way into the room. You really had to spin around to take everything in, it was incredibly large for a practice studio.

I turned when I heard footsteps and was greeted by a very bright and bubbly Taehyung.

“(Y/n)? Ah, it’s so great to meet you finally!” He bowed also and I instinctively reached out to shake his hand, smiling once he brought both of his warmer ones together around my own.

They’re so big, what the hell.

Ripping my line of sight away from his long fingers, I glanced behind him to see Hoseok making his way forward too. “Hey there! I’m also glad to meet you (Y/n).”

I exchanged similar greetings with the fiery red-head, but stepped back when Jimin intervened with a low-pitched whine.

“No, no.” He ran forward and grasped his two bandmate's shirts gently to pull them away. “Don’t crowd her, we’re all smelly from practice!”

His disgusted expression made me grin again, and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that, a little sweat won’t kill me.”

Hoseok laughed while playfully batting away Jimin’s hands. “Sorry about that, we are kind of gross right now.” He started airing out his shirt rapidly while strolling over to where three water bottles rested along the wall. I noticed that they were the only people in the room and puzzled over the thought. they were usually here with a manager or something, weren’t they?

“What were you guys practicing? And where are the others?” I queried, and watched as Taehyung flashed me a boxy grin. Jimin just groaned and ran his fingers through his hair yet again.

“We’re practicing for the concert, but I only came a couple of hours ago, the others are just at home I think,” Taehyung explained, patting Jimin’s back heartily. “Jiminie and Hoseokie-hyung have been here all day. They’re so fit!”

I glanced over at the two dancers as Hoseok jumped over to tickle Tae lovingly, Jimin just smiled at their loud antics. I was beyond surprised, as none of the members even seemed too tired. They were simply out of breath despite the sheer amount of exercise they’d undergone.

“That’s amazing! You all have so much energy to be able to practice so much.” I earned all of their attentive gazes, Hoseok instantly gracing me with his own beaming smile.

“Thanks! We’re just having a little break, but we’ll start again soon. Would you like to watch?”

My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the thought.

“Would I? Of course I’d love to watch you guys dance.” I clapped my hands together in excitement, eyes bright and shining with an uncontrolled delight. This made Taehyung reach forward with both hands to make a 'flower' under my flushing face.

“How cute!” He cooed, and Jimin pulled him away again. An eye-smile was stretching across the shorter boy's face in the most endearing way possible. Hoseok laughed, following with a “very cute, very cute” and ran off to start the music again.

All three of them were in light clothing, but Hoseok was wearing a white short-sleeved t-shirt while the other two adorned button-ups varying in style. All three wore long black Puma pants, most likely because of the ambassadorship they were part of.

“Ah, I don’t want to mess up in front of (Y/n),” Jimin tilted his head and looked at me with a somewhat pained expression. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he pouted and shook his hair out of his downcast eyes. I felt like I needed to step in.

“Jiminie, you’re an amazing dancer, you’d even make messing up look good. Plus, it’s only practice.”

“Yeah Jimin-ah, she won’t mind,” Hoseok helped me out and as the music started blaring from the speakers again, the rapper jogged over to jab Jimin teasingly in the side.

From the words of encouragement, Jimin brightened and smiled in my direction again before joining the others with a serious glint in his eye. I sat against one of the pristinely white walls to watch the action unfold before me, knowing I was about to witness something magnificent. Taehyung started moving his hands and bobbing his body to the beat in that hilarious way he usually did in mock dance practices, and I couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“Oh, Taehyung is improving! It must be because we have a lady in the room,” Hoseok teased and shook his head, breaking out into chuckles when Tae moved to hit his shoulder in protest. His bashful smile switched focus to me, and I nodded my head in approval.

“I'm loving the skills though.”

Suddenly, the starting track for ‘Fire’ began rumbling loudly through the speakers, and my ears perked in recognition. Was I actually going to see this performed in front of me? I knew this dance all too well from the countless videos I’d seen.

“Are you guys ready?” Hoseok hollered into the open space, and I watched them line up a few metres back from the large mirror. They must’ve been planning to perform this at the upcoming concert, but I wasn’t sure why they needed so much practice seeing as they literally performed it at most live events.

I suddenly threw my cardigan across the room and jump to my feet, rolling up my sleeves in determination. I didn’t even care if they thought I was the strangest person in the world right now, because this was ‘Fire’. “I’m so joining in!”

As the first ‘bultaoruene’ resonated against the pale walls, I ran into the middle of the room and launched straight into the first part of the dance. Despite wanting to come across as serious, I couldn’t keep a cool and collected demeanour and opted instead to laugh loudly. The others were no different, and as my arms started moving wildly, Jimin fell to the floor in a breathless wreck. Hoseok exaggerated his surprise by cupping his hands around his mouth and cheering me onwards while Taehyung mimicked him with his own loud whoops. All three ended up on the ground as I continued to dance, biting my lip to feign seriousness.

I didn’t try to replicate their dancing, as I knew I couldn’t reach their level, but I still shook my hands rapidly and squeezed impassioned eyes to parody something that resembled it. The music stopped, and I fell to the vinyl floor as well, my breathing shortened due to how much I was cackling. Hoseok had stumbled over to pause the track, and I could hear him suffering just as I was.

“Oh my-Oh my God that was great. Did you learn the whole thing?” he gasped out, making his way back over to where I was sitting with my head pressed into the cold floor. My whole body was shaking and erupting with shamed giggles, and when I rolled over, I hid my face in my hands to stop the embarrassment from showing.

“I’ve seen it too many times to not dance to it.”

“I was not expecting that, you have to dance with us, I’m begging you.” Taehyung ran over, his deeply toned sentence breaking up into various airy chuckles. Jimin was the last to get to his feet, but his face was completely reddened and his hair was even messier than before.

“We’ll teach you the rest. I think we’ve practiced the actual dances enough for today, don’t you think hyung?”

Hoseok exhaled loudly, his eyes crinkling with his smile after regaining his composure.

“Yes, you’re right. And the newest member of the dance line needs some instruction.”

I was still on the floor, but at the agile dancer’s statement I fell over again. Taehyung and Jimin both smiled at the sight of my pained expression.

“Guys, I wouldn’t be able to dance the whole thing properly, let alone with phenomenal dancers like you right there.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but you are going to learn this. No buts.” Taehyung held out a helping hand, and I grasped it to help me get back on my feet. I then turned to Hoseok.

“Okay sonsaeng-nim, where do I start?”

All three boys laughed again, and Hoseok straightened himself, puffing out his chest to seem scholarly. Taehyung pointed towards him with a grin that only widened.

“Hobi-hyung is literally everyone’s dance teacher, he’ll make sure you get it perfect.”

At this, the greyish-brown haired boy rushed to line up beside me and looked sideways expectantly. Jimin , but chose not to line up. I nudged Taehyung into a straighter position with my elbow as Hoseok began pacing in front of us, massaging his chin with two fingers thoughtfully. He lowered his voice to sound gruff and strict, and I had to blow out my cheeks to keep it in.

“First lesson of the day, the chorus choreo.”

“Yes, teacher,” Taehyung and I recited in unison as if being scolded. Jimin nearly fell over again until Hoseok waved his hand dismissively and the whole act was dropped. I fell into the boy beside me, suddenly embarrassed once more, but not being able to contain myself any longer. Taehyung patted my shoulder comfortingly while stifling his own noises.

“Honestly, we weren’t joking about you learning the dance though,” Hoseok started and meandered over to grasp both my forearms, tugging on them to lead me forwards. I groaned and sent a look that screamed ‘help’ towards Jimin and Taehyung, but they both just snorted.

I internally cursed Jimin for betraying me like this. I’d thought he was my friend.

“Jimin-ah, Taehyung-ah, you’re going to help too.” Hoseok beckoned them over, and I could only grumble in more complaint.

“Okay, just get Jimin to show me some steps and I’ll see if I can do it properly.” I straightened my arms, which were still being pulled by Hoseok, and tapped my feet a couple of times to get ready. The red-haired dancer eventually dropped his hold, but looked down at his hands as if he’d touched something strange and foreign.

Jimin nodded at my request, and I paid close attention as he lined up in front of the mirror and ran through the starting choreography to the chorus. As both he and Hoseok showed me a slowed down version, I managed to get it all memorised. Taehyung clapped his hands to congratulate me, but his face fell when the phone in his pocket started buzzing incessantly.

“Sorry guys, it’s my turn to help Jin-hyung with dinner tonight. I have to go,” Taehyung fake sobbed, and I watched as Jimin went along with it to hug him comfortingly. Hoseok pretended to cry as well, and I couldn’t help but think this whole scene looked like he was about to be sacrificed to the Devil or something.

“Bye (Y/n), I hope I’ll see you soon,” The lively boy called as everything returned back to normal, and I couldn’t help but revel in the easy-going atmosphere surrounding me suddenly. I hadn't even met two of these people yet, but somehow I'd managed to skip past all the initial awkwardness of first meetings.

“Of course, definitely soon!” I vowed, and the singer left while grabbing one of the sports bags that rested by the door, continuing to walk backwards and wave rapidly. He was just too cute, and the way his eyes glimmered with hope just before he left was etched deeply into my mind. Even long after he was gone.

“We’re fine to teach you something, before we have to go anyway,” Hoseok turned back to us, and I almost face-palmed at the thought.

“Please don’t waste your time, I don’t even have a dancer’s body,” I spoke, my voice drawling out in protest.

“(Y/n) you do! Even if you were playing around before, you could still dance,” Jimin fought my statement, and I scoffed at his widened eyes. He was seriously against people belittling themselves.

“Plus, everyone gets better with practice,” Hoseok joined in, nodding his head cutely as he slammed his hands onto his hips. Jimin ran through the dance again, and I sewed their teachings together to try and copy him. I was shorter and had a different body shape to both dancers, but it wasn’t too difficult to try and alter the moves to accommodate for that. It was safe to say I actually ended up pretty proud of the outcome.

“I just don’t like how I can’t flow properly when I come up from the first move,” I grunted, trying out the steps again. Jimin hummed considerately before moving to stand behind me.

“Move your hands super quickly, and maybe keep this arm up so it’s easier.” He lightly grasped one of my forearms while I stayed frozen in position, and I actually saw in the mirror how it could help me. I was very much aware of how gentle his touch had been and how close his body was to mine. It didn’t help my racing thoughts when his warm puffs of breath made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

“And since you have to move your feet soon after, maybe don’t put so much weight on them beforehand,” Hoseok chipped in, and moved my other arm down so I could focus on my feet this time around. He’d been firmer than Jimin with his touch, but the singular fact that both of them had touched my arms in the span of a minute was enough to leave me breathless. I followed his instruction and gulped when the dancer’s lips quirked up into a knowing smirk.

The fucker knows what he’s doing.

“See, speed it up and try it now!” Hoseok bounced to get on my other side while Jimin stood and watched his partner offer his own extra tips. I found out just how useful a wall-sized mirror was when learning to dance, and when complimented by Hoseok’s timely sound effects, it wasn’t hard to get down the moves.

“Pa, pa and... boom! See, you have it. You’re a natural.” Hoseok reached up to exchange a sharp high-five, and I complied before covering my face again. This was almost too embarrassing. I just knew how badly my cheeks were flaring with flames of blazing pink.

“See hyung, I told you she was cute when she blushed.” One of Jimin’s fingers came to poke my cheek, just like he had done that one time in the car.

I reeled away from him. “Ah, don’t tease me, how rude!”

Hoseok and Jimin chuckled, and I heard the older dancer agree with my words in another fresh bout of mockery. “She’s right Jiminie, don’t embarrass her too much or she might just faint because of you.”

I growled, and they both stifled their laughing.

“As if I would faint, it’s not like I’ve never received a compliment before.”

“Ooh, cocky.” Hoseok tilted his head back and I smiled as both boys shook their heads at each other with crossed arms.

“Hey!” I pushed both of them away using their broad chests, scrunching my face up. Knowing it wasn’t convincing in the slightest, I inwardly cursed my continuous failure to hide emotions.

“But seriously, she has that natural aegyo,” Hoseok pointed out with wide eyes. Jimin’s jaw slackened in surprise before he agreed wholeheartedly.

“I’m leaving, before my face burns clean off,” I then announced, pointing an accusing finger at the two chuckling dancers who were making their way over to gather their belongings and drink bottles.

“Remind me to never be alone with you two again.”

“But (Y/n) …” Jimin licked his lips and smiled sweetly. “We’re not making any promises.”

The duality of this man truly scared me.

“Whatever, I should actually get going though,” I noted forlornly, not continuing to joke even though I really wished to do nothing but. The boys both nodded with their spirits also seeming to dampen slightly, but Hoseok lifted his head to smile with that signature sun-like glow of his.

“It was really fun to dance with you, please consider learning with us again (Y/n).”

“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me something, but sure I’ll think about it.”

Jimin erupted into giggles and slapped his elder on the shoulder before curling into him, just like he usually did when he laughed really hard. Hoseok merely pressed his lips together and tilted his head to seem hurt.

“Please do,” he agreed in a broken whisper, but I steeled my throat from letting anything close to laughter escape its clutches. I would be here for way too long if I couldn’t control myself.

“Okay bye!” I shout, listening to their farewells before ducking out into the chilled hallway.

Time had seriously flown by, and I remembered that I would have been home hours ago if I hadn’t been so severely side-tracked. I sighed with weariness as I finally made my way towards the steel doors of the elevator, listlessly passing a trashcan full of several empty coffee cups.

tagged: @l4life, @joyful-jimin

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