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jadedvibes · 2 years

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Happy When It Rains

Summary: After finding yourself stuck in heavy rain without an umbrella, you accept some help from a kind stranger. What comes after changes your life and outlook on love for the better.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of smut, extreme fluff with so many feels, very minor angst, brief mention of past bad relationships, a little dancing, and lots of love.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This fic is my submission for @musingsinmoonlight's Any Way You Want It writing challenge! Inspired by the prompt near the end 🖤

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

He showed up when you least expected it, a cold and dreary morning derailed by heavy rainfall. You cursed the sky, the unexpected downpour coming in with no warning. Normally, you’d keep a mini umbrella in your purse, but that day you planned to run a few quick errands without your big bag.

You stood under the awning of a coffee shop, planning your next move. Trying to see if you could outrun the rain, you held out your hand to test it, leaving it completely drenched in seconds. This kind of shower rarely happened, if ever. And as you dawdled in hopes of it letting up, the door to the shop behind you jingled. Crap, I can’t stay here forever.

Stepping aside to allow the man to exit, you observed him as he fiddled with his umbrella. The dark-haired man was smart, prepared. You wished you had that same foresight. Had you known, you would’ve come ready for whatever weather so that you could complete all your tasks.

As you unconsciously continued to eye him, lost in your own thoughts, his voice broke your trance.

“Nice weather we’re having today, huh?” he looked at you with an easy smirk on his face.

Exhaling a heavy breath, you playfully rolled your eyes. “The best.”

He smiled, bright and wide, and it felt like warm sunshine on your skin. It made you forget about your temporarily bleak situation – you couldn’t help but smile back.

After a solid shake, he finally got his umbrella to open. Holding it over his head, he took a cautious step towards you, letting it cover you as well. “Can I walk you somewhere?”

You bit your lip, thinking. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve quickly declined the stranger's offer. But you were in a bind, and the rain made no sign of letting up, so you figured a quick walk to a convenience store with him couldn’t hurt. “Think you can help me find a store that sells umbrellas?” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that. I’m Bucky,” he grinned, holding out a gloved hand.

“Y/N,” you smiled before reaching out and shaking his hand. Whatever apprehension you held melted away when his stunning blue eyes gazed deeply into yours.

He motioned his head towards the sidewalk, “Well, Y/N, let’s get you that umbrella.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you followed him closely, stealing glances at him as he shielded you from the rain and helped you move forward with your day. Perhaps chivalry wasn’t dead.

After the first shop you stepped into was sold out of umbrellas, and the store next to it as well, Bucky offered to give you his.

“What? No, it’s still pouring!” you exclaimed dramatically.

Bucky let out a laugh, “I’ll manage, at least I’ll know you’re okay. I was going to give you mine once I walked you wherever you needed to go anyways.”

Despite the chill in the air, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Shaking your head, “If I’m not keeping you, can we check one more store? I know of one around the corner that should have it.”

“Of course.”

The third stop had what you needed, and you offered to buy Bucky a drink or lunch to thank him for going out of his way. He politely declined and told you that you didn’t owe him anything, but if you ever caught yourself without an umbrella, you could always give him a call.

Bucky was so charming and endearing, you exchanged phone numbers before parting ways.

All too quickly the kind stranger became a friend.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

Rain pattered against your windows as the warm crooning of Bing Crosby quietly echoed throughout the walls of your cozy kitchen. You’d slipped out of bed for a snack, finding it difficult to fall back asleep once the loud thunderstorm commenced.

Quietly, you sashayed towards your cupboard and retrieved a bowl, hoping not to wake your boyfriend that was sleeping in the other room. Just as the microwave was about to start beeping to indicate that your popcorn was done, you pushed the release button and grabbed the hot bag.

Sure, Bucky had enhanced hearing, but you felt confident that the weather was loud enough to cover your actions. Pouring out your snack, you slowly moved your hips to the rhythm of the soft music. Ever since Bucky came into your life, your taste in music changed a bit – hell, you changed a bit. He opened you up to many new things that you’d never experienced before; adventurous food, soulful music, dating a kind-hearted and loyal man.

As a partner, he was unlike any you’d ever even heard of before. He was strong yet soft when it mattered, holding your heart with a gentle tenderness and delicateness that you thought was reserved for only fairytales. At first his sweet disposition made you skeptical — but that didn’t last very long.

Similarly, you weren’t the only one to feel nervousness. Bucky had walls held up high too, covered with a thin veil of grumpiness, however they all fell down when he was with you.

You broke every barricade, shattered every barrier that he’d built throughout his tumultuous life.

And he didn’t mean to, not when he first met you, he never intended to fall for a woman so completely. Like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, Bucky leaped and held on to faith that you would catch him. He held onto the belief that you, the gorgeous girl caught in the rain, would save him.

Vulnerability was never his strong suit, with the exception of his friendship with Steve and Sam, all Bucky knew was how to live with his guard up. He’d never stopped to enjoy the little things that made life worth living – but that all changed thanks to one fateful day.

The day that you unknowingly freed him from the only life he knew, that day when his heart told him there was more, so much more to encounter. Unconsciously, you breathed new life into Bucky.

Now his days consisted of sunshine, adventures, tender kisses, and love, so much love. Every insecurity he felt, be it about his past, or his present state that he felt self conscious about melted away in your warm embrace. You cared for him in ways he’d never known. And though you initially tried to hide it, when he looked into your eyes all he saw was complete adoration and acceptance.

Bucky thought it was cute, the way you attempted to act indifferent about your relationship, and failed miserably when he called you out on it. He knew you had walls too, or as you liked to call them, sandbags, to keep things different. You shared how the weight of the past pulled you down as you dragged around remnants of the pain caused by untrustworthy lovers and friends. You told him you were afraid to love and be loved by him.

To any other person it’d be irrational, simply crazy to open up when they knew how evasive and afraid their partner was of commitment. But Bucky received it as a special invitation to show you just how much you meant to him. If you could be open enough to tell him your truth, he could take it a step further and make you feel safe with his actions.

Because all he wanted was you, any and every version of you.

You’d never anticipated finding a love like this, but ever since that day you were always happy when it rained, it reminded you of how far you both had come in your journey.

As you peacefully munched on your popcorn and moved around to the soft beat, Bucky’s voice broke your reverie.

“What are you doing up, my love?”

Turning around to face him, you smiled as you took in his messy hair and sleepy state; tired eyes with his white shirt askew and gray sweatpants slung low on his waist. Trailing behind him was your equally tired fluffy best friend, Alpine.

You and Bucky adopted him shortly after moving in together; the little guy was brought to the shelter after being found on the side of the road in a box one stormy night. After one look in his bright blue eyes, you both knew that you’d found the newest member of the family. The furball fit in perfectly with you two, and you adored the way he often followed Bucky around, sometimes even perching on his shoulders to stay close to his dad.

Alpine rubbed his whiskers on your legs before mozying over to curl up in his bed in the living room, still close by, but prioritizing his beauty rest too. Bucky lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“I got hungry,” you shrugged, grabbing a couple kernels to pop in your mouth, only to look up and see Bucky’s mouth open and asking for some. You giggled, gently placing a few in his mouth before reaching back and getting more. You snacked and playfully fed him, until you both had your fill.

“Looks like someones really gotten into my kind of music,” he smirked, gesturing towards your phone that was still playing songs on the countertop. You bit your lip, nodding your head. Maybe in the past you’d deny the ways your sweetheart affected you, but those days were long gone. You were all in with him, and there was no point in downplaying it now.

Bucky pulled your hand, gently tugging you away from the counter and towards the middle of the kitchen. He’d do this sometimes, whenever the song was right, whenever the mood struck, he’d spontaneously pull you away for a dance.

In the past, you were reluctant to agree, afraid of making a fool of yourself, but he changed that quickly.

You vividly remembered how he simply held out his hand and asked you to trust him. “I don’t know if you know this, but I was a pretty decent dancer back in my day,” he stated confidently.

You nervously placed a hand in his and the other on his shoulder, mentally preparing yourself for embarrassment, but soon discovering that Bucky sure could dance.

He danced so well, and led you so smoothly, you realized your apprehension was for nothing. In his arms, swinging and turning in time with the music came easily. He guided you so effortlessly, and the joyful look on his face when he did was the most adorable sight. When he danced with you he was carefree, and the way he’d lead you varied each time.

Tonight he’d decided on a slow dance, where he simply held you close, taking his time and spending it focused on you. His sparkling blue gaze held yours, no longer tired, but fully present. You cherished these moments, the way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world. He’d remind you often that you were.

"Let Me Call You Sweetheart," softly played in the back as Bucky held you tight, swaying to the light ballad. The sound was ever so slightly muffled as rain pounded against the building. You turned to look at the window, clouded by darkness and blurred by the heavy drenching downpour. It triggered a memory, looking back at Bucky, “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

He grinned down at you, gently moving along to the beat. “How could I forget that, my love?”

Smiling softly, “It’s been well over a year,” you shrugged, averting your gaze. Of course he remembered, he always remembered the moments that mattered most. Sometimes your past insecurities creeped up, but he dispelled them just as quickly.

Bucky tilted your chin up so that he could look into your eyes when he let you in on the little secret he’d been holding onto. “I saw this beautiful girl, looking so upset as she hid out from the rain. All I wanted was to make her smile, and maybe get her home safely too.”

Your breath hitched and eyes widened as you took in his words. “You saw me before you came out?”

He nodded his head, “I was sitting in front of the window, you’re the reason I left.”

You halted his movements, forgetting the music still playing. Learning that he came out just for you filled your mind with an influx of emotions, leaving you thunderstruck. “I... I didn’t know that.”

He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone, “Are you upset? Maybe, I should’ve told you sooner. I –”

Shaking your head, your hands found their way to the back of his neck, “No Bucky, I’m surprised,” you grinned softly, starting to sway a bit again. “I guess more than anything, I’m just grateful that you were there that day, I really was upset and I had so many things to do,” you giggled before pecking his lips. “Your assistance led me here, so of course I’m not upset, baby.”

It wasn’t much of a secret, if anything it showed Bucky was sweet on you from the moment he saw you, even in your frazzled state. You didn’t know it was possible to love him more, but he always found ways to amaze you with his deep affection.

Bucky exhaled a breath, shaking his head with a relieved smile. “You know –” his lips brushed over yours. “I never thought I'd have someone to sway with me in the kitchen…” he whispered against your lips. “I'm glad I was wrong,” he mumbled as his lips trailed along your jawline.

“Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Yes, my love?” he asked, placing feather light kisses under your ear and down your neck.

“I’m glad too,” you redirected his lips to yours, tangling your fingers in his soft brown locks.

The dance was over, but something just as lovely was beginning. Bucky wordlessly scooped you up, carrying you back to the bedroom you shared. There you rode out the storm as you made love, deep and slow, wrapped up tight in each other’s arms.

Rain or shine, you were with Bucky for the long haul – and considering the ring he’d purchased that day, you’d soon know even more than you already did, if that were possible, that he truly was too.

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lfghughes · 1 year

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maybe andrei and reader first kiss?

a/n: you guys dont know this but i'm a total sap so first kisses hit me deep in the soul

You had only started “talking” to Andrei a couple of weeks back and it was nothing serious and you weren’t even sure if he saw it going anywhere. You both had been out to a couple of dinners and hung out a few times here and there but it was all still in the process of getting to know each other better so no moves had been made on either of your parts. You did text a good chunk of the day if he wasn’t at practice or at a game but again you didn’t want to convince yourself he liked you as much as you were starting to like him because you knew the disappointment was going to sting extra if he didn’t. He did have an away game tomorrow and you had both decided to grab lunch together and then hang out his place and watch a movie. Again nothing too far out of the norm, you two had hung out his place a couple of times but unlike other guys you had been with he hadn’t tried anything those times. “Are you going to watch my game on tv tomorrow?” Andrei asked, raising a brow at you playfully. “Of course, I have to cheer you on through the tv. I’ll even wear my lucky tshirt.” You teased him because you knew how these boys were about their superstitions and all this lucky talk they had. “Oh, are you going to give me a good luck kiss too?” He teased back and in most cases you knew that sentence would have given you the biggest ick but everything about Andrei was different and you were also a lot less nervous around him than you had been with other guys in your life. Before you could overthink his words and convince yourself he was just teasing you, you leaned over from your spot on the couch and placed your lips on his. It was a quick kiss on your end but when you went to pull away, his hand went to the side of your face holding you there as he kept kissing you. Finally, and unfortunately, he pulled away. “We are definitely going to win that game tomorrow and as soon as I get back you owe me another one of those…actually you owe me a few more of those.”

#andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov

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j2h5b5 · 5 months

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Testing the Limits

Summary: JJ Maybank’s little sister is doing some experimenting.

***

Oh. Oh shit.

That was Milly Maybank’s first thought upon waking.

And it wasn’t just because her head felt like a balloon filled with blood, stretched fit to burst and throbbing along with the beat of her heart.

Or because her mouth seemed to be filled with cotton, and tasted like something had rotted inside there.

Or because her stomach was roiling like the HMS Pogue in a high wind and she was pretty sure she was about to vomit all over these clean white sheets.

These clean white sheets on her hospital bed.

Yep, that’s why she woke up mentally cussing.

Because she didn’t have much memory of last night, but what flashed through her mind wasn’t good at all, and whatever had happened to land her here had to have been literally catastrophic. They couldn’t fucking afford a hospital.

There was a needle in her arm with a clear tube leading up to a bag on a pole like you see on TV, and a beeping monitor that was presumably alerting everyone in the room to the fact that she was alive?

Everyone. That would be … Without moving her head (both because to do so would risk popping the balloon that was keeping her liquefied brain in place and also because she was afraid to draw attention), Milly took mental stock. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, John B. And, of course, JJ.

Her brother was perched in a very uncomfortable-looking plastic chair at her bedside, his blond head resting on his arms, which were resting on the edge of the mattress. His eyes were closed and she bit her lip as a flashback of the night before fluttered vaguely at the back of her mind.

What did you take? Milly, answer me, what did you take?

JJ, she’s not hearing you, she needs a hospital.

I know, FUCK, I KNOW, let’s go. Move, just fucking move, I’ve got her. Come here, baby sister. Come on, Jay’s got you.

The world tilting on its axis as strong arms lifted her like she weighed nothing at all.

A bumpy ride, tires spinning gravel and mud, panicked fussing and bickering that made no sense, then bright lights, violent and harsh.

Then nothing.

Then this.

That was it for the details of the AFTER. From the BEFORE, she remembered more than she wanted to. The fight with her brother, hurling sharp words at all his soft spots. Blind anger making her cruel. Running off into the night. Running toward the very thing JJ was trying to keep her from in the first place. Triumphant at winning the battle.

She’d stayed gone for two days. Ignoring texts and calls from all of them and successfully staying off the radar until she got too brave and went to grab a late lunch at The Wreck. Sitting at a deck table off in the far corner with her back to the late-afternoon stragglers. She had almost finished wolfing down her burger when an open palm smacked the back of her head hard and a much-loved voice with an icy sharp edge commanded: “Hey brat. Call your damn brother.”

Looking up at Kie, Milly saw the older girl’s annoyance and responded with an admittedly childish “No.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“He’s a dick.”

“Yeah? He’s JJ. That’s not the point. You owe him better than this.”

And Milly knew she was right, which was why she doubled down. “I don’t want to talk to him yet. I’ll call him when I’m ready, and when he’s done treating me like a stupid kid.”

“Stop acting like one.”

Milly pushed her chair back and stood up from the table, making to leave. Kiara set down the tray she was carrying and reached for Milly. “Wait, wait. Where are you staying? At least tell me that. Are you being careful?”

Dodging Kie’s grasping hand, Milly shot her a look of honest apology—really, this whole thing had gotten out of hand but she didn’t know how to fix it now. “I’m fine. Tell him I’m fine.”

And she left fast, because Kiara was a good runner and Milly wasn’t positive she wouldn’t be chased all the way back to where her new friends were waiting.

And now.

When she finally tore her eyes away from the head of floppy blond hair next to her, she realized the others—all of them—were watching her.

Time to face the music.

***

TBC?

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #jj maybank #protective jj maybank #obx fic #john b routledge #kiara carrera #the pogues #jj obx #oc #bigbrotherjjmaybank #protective pogues #found family

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ohmightydevviepuu · 3 months

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imperfect boys. perfect ploys. (this is a song about tragedy) [3/6]

“My ‘story’ is that I left a fucked-up situation and it kind of fucked me up,” he’d said. But it was the way he’d said it, like it hadn’t broken him. Like it was just a fact. But Emma’s life was a story, too. A fucked-up situation that had kind of fucked her up. She wasn’t that kid anymore. Confidence could be learned. And maybe—maybe—she wasn’t broken, either. Not if she picked up the pieces. Not if she told herself a new story. About who she was. About what she wanted. Roots, family, friends, a sense of the familiar—these did not have to be fairy tales. “You owe it to yourself,” Mary Margaret said. “Happy endings always start with hope.”

–

S3 post-neverland canon divergence. 20k of no-curse renaissance.

read it on AO3

to @wistfulcynic and @thisonesatellite who sat with me while we daydreamed on a hilltop in cornwall on the summer-iest summer day england has ever seen. it took me eight months but i got there in the end.

thank you to @shireness-says for time and feedback and kindness to the IAS @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @idoltina @initiala @thejollyroger-writer @phiralovesloki for always giving me a cheer when i needed it

seven. 'moments'

She was late for lunch.

It wasn’t on purpose. It just—wasn’t an accident, either.

It was so nice to sit in the sunlight and feel its warmth on her face. It didn’t do much against the bitter wind chill, but Emma sat there anyway, soaking it in.

Her phone was in her hand, silent. Still. Neal hadn’t called—of course—he wouldn’t. She could picture him, sitting there. Waiting for her. Confident and cocky. Self-assured like he’d been that night at the amusement park and every night after.

It was a test. A game. Emma really wanted to win this one. She was going to lunch.

In a minute.

“Isn’t Granny’s that way?”

David’s voice. Emma turned, surprised. She hadn’t expected Neal, of course not. She just hadn’t expected Prince Charming, either. The other surprise—the other thing she wasn’t expecting—was the gentleness in his words. The way they had no judgment and hardly any curiosity. It was, simply, a question.

What a fucking relief that was.

She turned back to her view. The ocean breeze, bracing and fresh, blowing against her reddened cheeks. The tide rolling up and back, coating the stones and pebbles of the beach. The masts of the Jolly Roger bobbing in time with the waves. “Did Neal send you?”

“Nah.” Emma could hear the shrug in his voice. “He has no idea I’m here. Your mo—” Emma hid a wince. He wasn’t even facing her, but then he continued: “Mary Margaret saw Neal sitting alone in the diner. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

She turned. He didn’t look like a fairy tale prince, squinting against the sunlight with his hands jammed into his pockets. Then he smiled.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “I’m fine.”

They were all home. It had worked out. She shouldn’t still be this—unsettled. Henry was fine—he’d spent the night at Regina’s and run off to school like nothing had happened. After all, how could long division be worse than the island of misfit toys?

“It’s okay if you’re not. We’re all recovering.” He shrugged and with his hands still in his pockets the jacket shifted around him. The waterskin was gone. It was gone.

“I just—I can’t shake the feeling that something else might happen. It always has. It always does.”

“Yeah.” David sat next to her on the log—close, but not too close. “Your mother”—he emphasized it, gently—“she does that too. I tell her she shouldn’t think like that.”

Emma sniffed. “Bad things do keep happening.”

“So do good things,” David said. “And if you think like that, you’re going to miss them. You’ve gotta look for the moments.”

“Moments?”

He smiled. It was a charming smile. Megawatt with shining teeth. It would be so easy to let herself get caught up in it. Emma was surprised by how much she wanted to.

David was a good person. He might even be a good father.

“Life is made up of moments. Good ones, bad ones. But they’re all worth having.”

“What if I’m just a magnet for the bad ones?” She hadn’t meant to say it. Not like that. She blamed the smile—it made her want to confide things. Admit things.

Have a relationship with her parents.

What Emma didn’t have a relationship with, though, was trust. She’d thought—in Neverland—she’d admitted a truth to her parents. To her mother. But all she’d done was give them another way to hurt her, which Mary Margaret had done. Without a second thought. After announcing her need for a do-over of Emma’s childhood.

If only it were that easy, Emma thought. She wouldn’t mind one herself. Glass unicorns and all, decoration for a princess.

If only.

“Well, that’s just all the more reason to look for the good moments in between the bad ones,” David said. Mary Margaret would have tried to soothe her, Emma knew. Friend or parent or both, the woman could not help herself. But something in David’s simple honesty and earnestness made Emma want to smile. It made her want to believe him.

“You think having lunch with Neal is a good moment?”

“I don’t know,” David said seriously. “Does he eat with his mouth open?”

Emma laughed and it felt like everything between them loosened. It felt like—maybe—this could work. All of it. So she was being honest when she said, “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

He didn’t ask her what she meant. “Let’s start by finding out. Can I give you a lift?” He stood, and offered her his hand. She surprised them both when she took it, and linked her arm through his.

“Are you sure you don’t have other reasons for pushing me toward Neal?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “Maybe you’re keeping me away from Hook?”

“Emma.” His body shook with laughter. “You think I’m interested in Hook? I’m a married man.”

“I don’t know what went down with you and Hook back on that island—“ she said.

“Gold came through. He gave me the cure. And Hook is the reason I made it home, with you. With our family. I’m not going to forget that. I promise.”

“Okay,” Emma said. She wasn’t going to forget either. David might have been sacrificing himself for his family but Mary Margaret had not skipped a beat before saying she would stay in Neverland. Forever. Only she didn’t have to, because of Hook.

Hook, and Neal.

Hook, and Neal. Emma sighed.

“Can we go now? My lasagna is getting cold.” He bumped her shoulder as he said it, pulling them closer together.

She let him. “Yeah. Thanks—Dad.”

eight. 'you couldn't handle it.'

Killian watched them, making rope. Making plans. The only thing he knew was that it felt imperative that Emma get a message to her son, quickly. Prince Charming was dying and the idea of young Henry becoming a Lost Boy—like his father, like his mother—was untenable.

And Killian?

He was drinking.

Drinking to stanch the bleeding, every moment on this island another wound. Drinking to stop himself feeling. He was ‘just a pirate’, after all. What did he have to contribute?

Certainly not a solution. Dreamshade was magic, its cure was magic, and all magic came with a price. Could he willingly sentence someone else to pay it? Could he force their family to pay it?

Could he do that to Emma?

An eternity on Neverland, or to be orphaned all over again.

So he drank.

And watched.

“A trap?” Regina’s displeasure was subtle, as always. “That’s your plan?”

Snow White shrugged. “The lost boys wanna come after us, we need to go after them.” She said it with a surety that suggested previous experience. “David? We need more vines.”

“On it,” the prince said.

Killian took another sip. It was as good a plan as any, considering—he only wondered if David would live long enough to see it through or if he would expire under a blanket of jungle vines.

“You’re coming with me, pirate,” he said.

“Am I?” Killian drawled. “And why is that?”

“Because we need more rope.” She said it simply but the edge in Emma’s voice was unmistakable and so he bowed.

“If the lady insists,” he said. The slur in his words was easy to cover as was the slight unsteadiness as he rose. David’s haranguing presence would surely be more than enough to sober a man. “What would you like to yell at me about now, Dave?”

“Stay away from my daughter.”

There. That was better than hair of the dog. “She can take care of herself. She certainly doesn’t need your parenting, which is a good thing.”

Was it?

Hadn’t he still needed Liam’s guidance?

“You’re gonna die in a day or so.”

“Nothing I can do about that. But if I do die—”

“—when—”

“It’ll be in helping my family.” The prince sniffed. “That’s something a pirate like you can never understand.”

Did he not still carry the weight of that loss every single day? Nothing left of him but a tarnished silver ring and a scrap of leather—if he could go back, would he force Liam to stay? To desert?

Of course he would.

And he would have stayed, too. Willingly. The brothers Jones against the Lost. Against Pan. Together. They should have found a way. He should have found a way. He should have forced Liam—trapped him—

Killian stumbled in the path. A trap. A trap.

This family always found a way, didn’t it? That’s what heroes did. And if anyone could find a way to get her father home alive, it was surely the savior herself. Emma Swan. Killian could certainly choose to believe in her as much as David believed in his own rightness and righteousness.

“What if I told you there’s a way to save you?”

“I would say no, because anything that takes us away from finding Henry is selfish.” The prince spat the word. “But of course you would think that was the way.”

“Bugger off.” Killian’s anger wasn’t feigned. “You think I’m being selfish? I’m risking my life for all of you, every moment that I am here. Every moment that I am aligned against him.”

“Please. You’re not here out of any nobility!” The prince wavered on unsteady feet as he pushed into Killian’s face. “You’re here for Emma. And let me tell you something else, pirate—you’re never gonna get her. I’ll see to that.”

“Well then. It’s a good thing you’re gonna die.” One swing. That’s all it took. One swing and a very sad-sounding groan—a sound that Killian knew only too well. “Mate, stop. Stop. I don’t fight invalids.”

But David didn’t hear him. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. The weight of the prince was uncomfortably familiar as Killian slowed his fall, lowering him gently.

He didn’t over-think it. He didn’t linger. He didn’t have time to faff around, and the prince wouldn’t trust him even if he did. It had to be his idea. His plan. Only then would he deem it noble enough—suitable for a hero-type.

Killian palmed the leather insignia as he pulled out his flask, pouring the rum into the prince’s open mouth and waiting for him to wake.

What was it about this family and knives?

David’s sword hovered dangerously close to his neck and Killian was only saved from injury by the fact that the prince’s arms were trembling from the effort. “I know about your deal with Pan,” he snarled.

Killian held onto his temper. Barely. “You heard that, then? So you also heard the part where I didn’t agree?”

The sword wavered. Closer this time. “You also didn’t disagree. Pirate.”

Killian swallowed, his parting lie to Emma still sour in his mouth. The prince could not conceive of himself as a liar, but a pirate simply was. It was not an untruth so much as an unkindness but it did not help his mood. “You’re only making the poison spread more quickly, mate.” He side-stepped the blade. “And giving Pan what he wants, which is for us to turn against each other.”

Another lie. Pan had clearly expected Killian to take his deal—had been so confident that Killian would leave, and take Emma with him. That Emma Swan would leave her son. Again. Killian had seen the certainty in the demon’s eyes and realized his mistake. He’d misjudged Pan’s designs on the Savior. It was certainly true that Emma had left but one needed only to look at her to see how that decision haunted her. Still. Her every action, every movement in the Enchanted Forest had been a repudiation of that choice; she’d been desperate to redeem herself. And she’d done it. She’d gotten home to her boy, big family reunion and all.

Peter Pan might never fail, but neither did Emma Swan. Either Pan didn’t know that or he had changed the rules of his game and Killian was currently betting his life—and David’s—that it was the former.

The prince’s breathing was heavy. Labored. “However fast the poison spreads—I just have to last long enough to get that sextant back to my family.”

“Mate, you don’t have that kind of time. There is no sextant here.”

“No. The insignia—”

“I dropped it. I dropped it so that you would find it and ask me to take you here. I knew you wouldn’t agree to make the journey if I told you the truth.”

“Why start now?”

“Because I brought you here to save your life.”

Sword waving, David hurled himself forward. Face-first into the ground, landing with a groan.

They were out of time. Killian reached into his pocket for the scrap of black cloth—the very same one he’d snitched from the sheriff’s office, the very same one he had used on Emma—and tied it around his nose and mouth. He sighed.

His life had taken a lot of strange turns since she had pulled him out of that grave.

Killian drew his sword and drove forward. Hacking the branches, ever-mindful of the omnipresent thorns. He heard the water, as if from a great distance—maybe it was the way the air around him seemed to scream in protest with every cut he made—

There it was.

The waterfall.

Quickly he filled the empty water skin slung under his coat. Quickly. Quickly. He raced back through the broken shrubbery that was already straining to close the gap and fell to his knees next to the fallen prince. David made a noise that might have been a gurgle as Killian pulled his head up. “Mate. Wake up.” If Killian hit a little harder than necessary against his cheek—all in an effort to rouse him—so be it.

“Get off me!”

Killian held his arms out wide, pointing at the canteen. “Look. Look, Dave. In this canteen is the water that will stop the Dreamshade. It will save your life.”

“That’s why you—“ he coughed. “You knew I wouldn’t come up here on my own. You knew that—“

“That you were stubborn? Yes. I gathered that rather quickly.”

“So give it to me,” David said.

“Mate.” Killian took a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know first. This water’s power comes from the magic of the island.”

“And all magic comes with a price. I know. Tell me, and I will pay it.”

“If you drink this water, you can never leave Neverland.”

David did not hesitate to take the word of a pirate. He believed. “Give it to me,” he said. “It’s a small price to pay for what I get in return—the chance to save my grandson. The chance to help my family get home.”

Gently, Killian poured the water into his mouth. The effect was—exactly as he remembered it. Instantaneous. Magical.

Priceless.

Laughing, he held out his arm for David to take as they stood.

“So why risk your life for me when there isn’t anything for you in return?”

“Oh, I didn’t do it for you, mate,” Killian said. He’d done it for Emma.

He’d done it for himself.

However Dave chose to interpret it, that was not a lie.

They did not speak on the walk back, save for one question: “That story you told me about your brother,” David said. “Was any of it true?”

Killian grunted. “Aye. He was a stubborn arse. And he died, because of Pan. Because of me.” He didn’t realize he had stopped walking until David brushed past him, a hand clasping his shoulder in the space between one step and the next. It was gone just as quickly.

There was no discussion of what they would say once they returned to camp. They were triumphant—after all, the prince was alive—but obviously sextant-less. David’s focus when they pushed through the last bit of shrubbery was only on his wife.

Well, far be it from Killian to deviate from his appointed role. “I’m afraid Pan got to the sextant first,” he said when Emma asked. He did not get a chance to say more.

“Hook saved my life,” David said, and all of them—including Killian—turned in surprise.

“Are you sure you want to tell them that, mate?”

David nodded. “We were ambushed by Lost Boys,” he lied. “Pinned down and outnumbered. And Hook risked his life to stop me being hit by a poisoned arrow. I wouldn’t have made it back here without him.” He removed one arm from Snow White’s waist and held out his hand. “Your flask, please.”

Wordlessly, Killian passed it over.

“I thought you deserved a little credit,” David said. He raised the flask in a toast.

“Thank you,” Killian said, aware of everyone’s eyes on him. And Emma’s.

“To Hook,” David said. He took a long drink and passed the flask to Snow.

She took it and looked at Killian. Appraising, and hauntingly like her daughter. “To Hook,” she said. Emma came beside her to take the flask and suddenly Killian was getting the look from both sides—down to his boots, up to his face—and he braced himself.

She’d been angry with him, before. Her expression now was—something else. “Did you really save his life?” she asked.

“Aye. Does that surprise you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. You and David aren’t exactly…’mates’.”

Killian stared at her. Kept his voice very low. “I would not leave your father to perish on this island,” he said. The space between them was heavy and charged and Killian realized the others had dispersed.

“Thank you.”

It was just him and Emma, with no fire. No excuses. He didn’t want her to cry again. He didn’t want her to hold her tears against him. He did not want her to see how fragile he was feeling.

That was his mistake.

He smiled. “Yes. Well. Perhaps gratitude is in order now…”

Emma’s eyes lit with disbelief. She smiled. “Yeah. That’s what the ‘thank you’ was for.”

“Is that all your father’s life is worth?”

She was in his face, her breath tickling his skin. “Please. You couldn’t handle it.” The words were soft and low.

His were lower. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

He always did love a challenge. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm and firm and Killian groaned. Slid his tongue against hers and felt the pressure of her fist in his hair as he stepped closer. As if he could meld their bodies together.

And then it was over, both of them breathing heavily as Emma pushed him away. “That was—” Words were impossible.

“It was a one-time thing.” She stepped back and turned. “Don’t follow me. Wait five minutes. Go get some firewood or something.”

Killian watched her retreating back. “As you wish,” he whispered. With his fingertips on his lips he could still feel her—the heat. The magic. Utterly shattered, Killian was left with only one thought: She was right.

He couldn’t handle it.

nine. lunch (i)

Emma was sure it hadn’t always been so loud. The way the coffee cups clattered on the counter, silverware landing on the plates with a clink, tables and chairs scraping across the vinyl—surely she hadn’t, in six days, forgotten what the rhythm of modern life sounded like. The silence of Neverland had been unnatural and punctuated only by the screams and the cries that pierced the endless night and here she was surrounded.

She was surrounded; everyone was watching. Everyone. The unending, tangible feeling of an entire diner’s worth of eyes on their booth was so present that Emma wanted to stand up and scream just to see what would happen.

Lunch was fine.

Granny’s grilled cheese was the stuff Emma dreamed about—hot, gooey, perfect. That was the thing about grilled cheese, really: It was never not perfect, however it was made. It didn’t let you down when you needed comfort and familiarity and a sense of home, even if—especially if—you had none of those things.

If only she had slept enough in the past six days (lifetime) to dream.

Ruby brought a hot chocolate with a swish of her hair and an open smile as Emma tried to savor each melted mouthful, the combination of butter and bread and cheese, and that was familiar.

Neal was trying. She was, too.

She’d loved him. And Henry--Henry wanted to.

She smiled. She laughed. She pushed back against the noise and told Neal about Henry. Their kid, the one with the Heart of the Truest Believer. Because Neal deserved to know. Didn’t he?

She’d loved him.

Lunch was fine.

So what if everyone was curious? So was she.

ten. lunch (ii)

Emma played her part. Smiled and laughed and made him smile and laugh—the smile getting bigger, the laugh gaining confidence. It was a sound she knew; a memory, a sound from her dreams. Familiar, like the weight of her leather jacket and the sunlight hitting her face through the windows. The clamor of the diner around her pounding against her headache and her exhaustion and her relief. Grilled cheese, each mouthful another reminder.

Neal said: “Should we play this like the old days? A little dine-and-dash, just for fun?”

She smiled and laughed and shook her head, dipping her finger in whipped cream. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Neal leaned forward. His smile was nearly a leer. “Chicken?”

Emma popped the whipped cream into her mouth. “Werewolves. Two of them.”

Swish-swish. A refill, like magic, as Ruby winked at Emma and made a claw with her free hand. “Grrr,” she said, growling at Neal. The way his eyes widened made Emma laugh even louder.

She really was glad he hadn’t died. Really.

Lunch was fine.

eleven. lunch (iii)

The crowd around the diner started getting smaller, Grumpy’s complaints louder as he forgot to eavesdrop. The pounding in Emma’s head retreated as she remembered what it was like to be surrounded by people instead of demon children, even if Grumpy was almost enough to make her miss it. For the first time in a long time—maybe since she fought a dragon, or jumped into a hat and swept the cobwebs off the glass unicorns in her nursery, or got on a pirate ship to fly to an island where Peter Pan ruled over a hellish nightmare haunted by the Lost—this was something she knew and it settled her.

She almost felt like herself again—whoever that was, whatever that meant. Even Mary Margaret had stopped pretending to not be watching her and started actually not watching her.

Lunch was fine.

The same, each time, until it could also be part of the routine. Familiar. All according to plan. Except—well—there had been the incident with Tink. With Tink and Hook, more accurately. Not that Tink—or Hook—had done anything wrong. They had just been walking out of the diner when Emma and David had been walking in, that first day. That first time. And there had been a look as they’d pushed through the door, Hook holding it open for David. And Emma. She hadn’t said anything, of course, but she had given him a look right back.

He’d winked. Not like Ruby, oh no. Nothing like Ruby. Like a fucking pirate.

Which was probably why David was still keeping an eye on her instead of focusing on the baby-making, not that Mary Margaret seemed to notice, still caught up in her daydreams and happily-ever-afters.

And then there was Neal: A stranger, a ghost, a dream come true. Exactly the same, as if the past eleven years (six days, lifetime) had blown right past him. Emma was the one who was different, not seventeen anymore and hanging on his every word, desperate to believe. To Believe.

She’d loved him.

“What’s your story, Neal?”

He stopped in the middle of his sentence to look at her. The smile evaporated. Everything around them froze, or felt like it, as Emma waited.

Swish-swish; it was only as Ruby retreated that he spoke again. “You wouldn’t have believed me,” he said, staring at his coffee cup for a long moment, cupping it in his hands as if there was nothing in the world more interesting or important before he raised his eyes to look at Emma.

“Maybe not,” she said. But she would have wanted to.

“Or maybe you would have,” he said. “That would have been worse. My father—I was so afraid of him, Em. Of seeing him again. And you”—he looked away—“I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

“But you did,” Emma said.

She’d loved him.

He’d left her.

#cs fic #canon divergence #season 3a #no curse renaissance

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inkstaindusk · 6 months

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OHOHO PROMPTS LIST how about 3, 5, 12, 14, or 22 with any combination of dok/sang/soo?

You know if you give me options I’ll default to doksang 14. “It’s a long story.” “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.” send me prompts!

Kim Dokja does not have many regrets about what he chose to do with his life, or its (fake) ending. Considering the way things had been going for him, he thought it was pretty logical. There was no one he was particularly close to who he thought would be affected for very long, save for perhaps his mother.

Which, in hindsight, was his first mistake.

He does not know how and he’s a little afraid to find out, but somehow, his mother not only managed to get out of prison but also met the only coworker who liked him. And now, here he is, sitting in his little one-bedroom apartment under a fake name with said former coworker while his mother is out grocery shopping.

Kim Dokja does not have many regrets, and he still doesn’t, but it’s hard to feel proud of his decision when Yoo Sangah is smiling serenely at him in a way that has him feeling faintly threatened.

“Your mother is a wonderful woman,” Yoo Sangah says conversationally.

“That… is not something most people say about my mother,” Kim Dokja responds carefully.

“Well, we had plenty of time to talk while we were looking for you. It’s kind of her to give us time to catch up like this too.” Yoo Sangah takes a sip of her tea. Kim Dokja can think of many men who would have been crying with envy at seeing her sipping tea alone in his apartment. “So,” she continues, “why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to, Dokja-ssi?”

“It’s a long story.”

Yoo Sangah’s smile widens, baring her teeth. “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.”

The last time he checked—a mere few weeks ago, as a matter of fact—she still had a well-paying job five cities away. How did she get the time off for this? How did she even find him?

Kim Dokja sighs. There are very few people who can win against a stubborn Yoo Sangah, and he has only ever managed it some of the time. This is not one of those times. “It was the best option for me,” he tells her. “I needed to start completely clean. Han Sooyoung owed me a favor—”

“You told Han Sooyoung?” Yoo Sangah’s expression breaks. Kim Dokja grimaces. “She knew where you were the whole time?”

“Not… exactly. She helped me with the process, got me new documents and everything, but we’re not in regular contact. She doesn’t know I’m in this city.” Probably. She hasn’t shown up to harass him yet.

Yoo Sangah still doesn’t look happy. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or even your mother? I would have helped too.”

So maybe Kim Dokja was wrong. Maybe someone would care. But he doesn’t want to tell her that he didn’t think it would matter. They talked sometimes, sure; he liked her and she seemed to enjoy his company enough to invite him out every so often, but he thought that was because he was a deterrent. It hadn’t taken very long to discover that she found everyone else in the company barely tolerable.

Regardless, they were still incompatible. She was like a female lead—beautiful, intelligent, admired. Kim Dokja was better as a reader. He was fine so long as he could watch her succeed. It’s hard to believe he had any significance to her story.

“My mother is complicated,” Kim Dokja says.

Yoo Sangah purses her lips. “Well… I can certainly understand why. But, Dokja-ssi, do you know how it felt to come to work and suddenly you were dead? There wasn’t—no one even—” She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. Her shaking hands set her teacup delicately onto the table. “It hurt, Dokja-ssi. I missed you very much.”

“You missed me?”

“Of course I missed you. You were—are my friend. I like you. I missed talking to you. I kept wanting to show you books I thought you would like, and lunch was so quiet without you. Do you remember when I said we should have a picnic someday? I looked outside once and I thought… I thought, Oh, I don’t even know what foods he would have brought.” Her eyes start to fill with tears before she buries her face in her palms. Kim Dokja is frozen. He can’t do anything but watch as she begins to cry right in front of him. “I wanted to go on that picnic with you so much.”

Kim Dokja does remember that conversation. He wasn’t in any position to tell her no, so he had agreed and she had smiled so joyously at him he found himself tongue-tied. That same evening, he had started thinking about learning how to cook. Then there was a big project the next day and someone was out for vengeance and he never thought about it again. Until now.

He knows how to cook a little bit now.

“Sangah-ssi…” he murmurs, unsure of what to say. He’s not good at apologies—not ones that he has to mean.

She lifts her head from her hands to look at him, eyes red and puffy but still piercing, cheeks stained wet with tears. “You can’t leave like that again, okay? You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Kim Dokja stares. He wasn’t thinking about leaving again. He did what he had to do. His mother and Yoo Sangah were unexpected, but despite everything, he knows they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his current life. He trusts them.

And he doesn’t like seeing Yoo Sangah cry.

Kim Dokja swallows. “I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

#dont sweat the details just think about doksang being in love ok <3 #idk what happened i meant to keep this funny #orv #omniscient reader #doksang #kim dokja #yoo sangah #anya tries to write #orvlb #drabbles #prompt answers #asks #devi

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writtenjewels · 1 year

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Ride Along part 3

Part One, Part Two

Salim pulled his patrol car into its usual space and headed into the station. Jason was already there waiting for him in the lobby with the bulletproof vest on. Salim was a little surprised that the younger man wanted to shadow him again; he thought for sure Jason had hated the stakeout. Salim acknowledged him with a wave and got some coffee for them both.

“I hope I didn't keep you waiting long,” Salim said.

“Nah. Just long enough for some of the officers to wonder if I was waitin' to be booked for somethin'.” Jason took the coffee with a nod of thanks and sipped it.

“You do have that sort of face,” Salim teased. Jason gave him a look but couldn't stop the little upward twitch of his mouth. Apparently he liked the banter between them as much as Salim did.

“If you're done bein' a smart-ass, you owe me a trip to the courthouse.”

That was true, but when they went to lunch yesterday they got to talking and Salim had forgotten about it. It turned out that at one point, they were both on the track for military careers. Salim managed to be accepted into the police academy instead while Jason had failed his physical and turned to acting instead. He caught the bug and was now making it his career. Salim had dropped Jason off at some acting group yesterday with the promise of another ride-along.

“How did your acting meeting go?” Salim wondered as he drove.

“It was an improv class,” Jason corrected him. “And it was fun. I take it every week to keep my acting skills sharp. I can show you once we reach the courthouse.”

“I'd love that,” Salim agreed in delight.

Once they arrived, Salim gave a quick tour of the space. Jason nodded along, probably familiar with the layout from various movies and television shows.

“You ever have to do a shift here?”

“On smaller cases, or when I'm the arresting officer. They would have someone with more experience if it was a more high-profile case.”

Jason was walking the space, taking it in. He paused by the witness stand and the judge's desk. When he turned back to Salim, his face had shifted to one of worry. He grabbed Salim by the wrist and pulled him toward the front row of audience seating.

“Quick, get down!”

“What's wrong?”

“Just keep your head down,” Jason hissed. “I don't think they followed us.” They who? What was he talking about? “If they do find us,” Jason went on, “we could claim sanctuary.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Jason made the time-out gesture. “I'm showin' you what improv is like. I started the scene and your job is to keep it goin'. Feed off of what I give ya and I'll bounce it right back, creatin' a whole story.”

“I see.” This wasn't what he expected when Jason offered to show Salim improv. “I don't have any acting experience,” Salim warned.

“It's okay, just say whatever comes to mind.”

“I'll give it a try,” Salim agreed. “Though... why did you make us criminals hiding from the law?”

“I didn't.” Jason flashed a grin. “You did just now. And we're rollin' with it.” He made the time-in gesture and gave Salim a nod to continue. Silence hung between them as Salim hunted for what to say. Jason said something about sanctuary...

“We can't claim sanctuary here, not after what we've done.”

“We ain't got much choice, Salim.” His heart gave a funny little skip hearing his first name spoken so casually.

“No. I think we should fight.” Jason raised an eyebrow. “If we stand together, we could win,” Salim explained.

“Okay, I'm with ya. You got anything we can use as weapon around here?” Of course he did: Salim always carried a weapon on the job. But he wasn't going to pull a gun out here. Before he could say so, Jason mimed picking something up and tapping it against the palm of his hand. “Found a fireplace poker.”

“And you can use this,” Salim decided, handing over another invisible object. “I used the poker to pry that metal off the wall.”

“Nice one.” Jason lifted it like he was holding up a shield. The sword and the shield. It was fitting, somehow. “Now let's kick some ass!”

“End scene?” Salim suggested.

“Yep.” Jason grinned at him. “That was awesome! I wasn't expectin' a fight.”

“I suppose I've always been more of a confrontational person,” Salim mused. “And you were right, it was fun. Though we really should get back to my patrol if you want to study law enforcement.”

“Sure.” Silence fell between them and Salim turned to lead them back outside the courthouse. “Just no more stakeouts, all right?”

“If you insist.” Salim hid a smile. “I don't grill that much, anyway.” He waited and was rewarded with a snort and a roll of Jason's eyes.

“Your jokes are so fuckin' terrible.”

“You laugh at them,” Salim pointed out.

“I didn't say I didn't like 'em,” Jason shrugged. This time Salim couldn't hide the smile, and he felt his heart flutter again.

#jason x salim #jason/salim #jason kolchek x salim othman #jason kolchek #salim othman #jalim #house of ashes

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cabinofimagines · 2 years

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Holi-day two; Dear Mr. Claus,

Day two of our holidays! Mind you, Santa is mentioned in here so it is not as neutral as it possibly could be :)

Pairing: PLATONIC Lester, Lityerses, Meg, Will and Nico x gn!reader Warnings: None! Word count: ~800

- Asnyox

<- prev - mlist - next ->

In the end, to surprise of most of the campers, the Hermes cabin won! The managed to get an impressive number of light-up statues standing, and somehow, they got permission from the dryads to carefully decorate the entire woods. Besides earning bragging rights and a break from camp duties, they were also allowed to pick the next days holiday activity, within reason of course.

Right before lunch, Lester arrived at camp together with Lityerses and Meg. You had been aware that he wanted to visit, however you hadn’t known when. So, when he pulled you towards the Apollo cabin table during lunch you weakly tried to complain.

“I promised Hazel that-“ “Nope, we are here now, Hazel can wait.” Apollo smiled, as he forced you to sit down.

So, as you sat between Lester and Kayla during lunch, Connor stepped forward to announce today’s activity.

“Dear gentle people, we as humble winners of the cabin decorating competition,” both loud booing and applause were heard from the audience, “After an intense debate, the Hermes cabin decided the recognize one of our members tremendous efforts in getting us this win. Everyone, give it up for Klaus!”

This time there was no booing as people applauded. The elf eared individual waved awkwardly with as he smiled at the praise.

“Now, this is why Klaus has come up with the next activity,” Connor continued when the applause died down, “Which will be, drums please…” Connor paused, as you could here the Hermes cabin drumming on their table, “Writing letters to Santa!”

As the campers around you made loud sounds of confusion, one voice across from you stood out the most, as Lityerses asked to no one in particular.

“Who is Santa?”

───────────

After a while, the writing utensils were distributed to each table. Nico had sat down next to Will after Conner’s speech, and Meg moved away from the Demeter table in order to join Lester in this endeavour. You might think that it was to have fun together, however she more so seemed delighted at Apollo’s suffering.

“Why are we even writing these letters? Santa isn’t real.” Lester grumbled and you gasped. “You can’t say that in front of the children!” You hit Lester on his head, and he let out a small ow. Meg rolled her eyes at your comment, as she was the youngest, yet knew that Santa did not exist.

“Wait,” Nico looked up from his writing, “Santa doesn’t exist?” If your eyes weren’t betraying you, you could see some hurt on Nico’s face, hidden behind the indifference that he normally wore.

“You didn’t know?” Apollo gapes at Nico. Nico shrugged, looking down to continue his letter. “I found out about his existence mere weeks before finding out that the gods are real,” Nico explained, “It only made sense that the guy is real then, right? I mean, someone here never corrected me.” Venom was in Nico’s tone. Will carefully rubbed Nico’s back.

“I’m sorry sunshine,” Will apologized, “You seemed so excited about Santa.” Nico simply grunted in response, still vigorously working on his letter, trying to ignore the disappointment that he felt.

“Why wouldn’t he be excited anymore?” Klaus popped up behind you. You could see Percy’s head perk up from the table next to yours, only noticing because he quickly turned around and stared intensely at Klaus, who now had put a hand on your shoulder. Lityerses, who had barely written down anything, nor had spoken after his prior question, broke his silence.

“Lester said Santa isn’t real, Nico didn’t know, and no one explained who Santa is to me.” Lityerses’ face was full of confusion, “Please, do I write this letter or not? What does this guy even do? Why does he care about me?” his voice cracked a little at the end of the sentence.

“Oh, dear Lityerses, Santa is a jolly person who gifts presents to those who have been kind during the year! Do write the letters, I love reading letters-“ Klaus coughed, “and Santa surely loves to do so too!”

Klaus stepped away from you, and walked towards Apollo, putting both his hands on Apollo’s shoulders, and positioning his face next to Apollo’s ear.

“And Lester, dear, lying is not a kind thing to do,” you saw Lester gulp as Klaus spoke softly, “so you better make up with a kind act or who knows what Santa might do.” Apollo quickly nodded in response; Klaus smiled.

“Great! Be sure to finish your letters before dinner!” he jollily walked away. You laughed at the horrified face Lester was making, and as you once again looked at Percy, he seemed to be having the same scared expression.

#request #requests #holidays #xmas 2022 #xreader #readerinsert #lester papadopoulos #Nico di Angelo #Will solace #platonic #lityerses #meg #gn!reader #pjo x reader #cabinofimagines #admin asja #asja writes #admin asnyox

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Sugar Mommy Ch 3

Warnings: language, a tiny mention of SVU stuff, light teasing, a very soft Rita.

It was a little past three when Rita re-entered the firm after an arraignment for a client, a small grin on her face as she moved past your desk.

“Thought I told you to take the rest of the day off after lunch?”

You glanced up from the open book in your lap, pen in hand as you’d been scribbling notes onto a legal pad on your desk.

“Technically…you suggested that I take an extended lunch.” You returned her smile, “Besides, basically all I’ve done since lunch is read through two hundred pages of smut.” You tossed the book onto the desk, the pen in the crease marking the page you were on as you sighed.

“That work, or pleasure?” Rita smirked, you let out a scoff, a semi offended look on your face.

“I’m sitting here trying to get a good angle on Paley for your defence and you’re mocking me?” Rita grinned at the teasing tone in your words.

“Hey, I’m not going to shame you if that’s what you’re into.”

“I prefer to not be choked out by belts in the bedroom..” Your gaze drifted to the empty space in front of you as you picked up your coffee, “Or surprise anal in elevators..or penises in general…”

“Note taken.” Rita’s response had you choking over your beverage, coughing a few times as your cheeks flushed, daring to glance up at her.

“I-uh- Cain’s in your office…”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, “Of course he is. Which means you’ll have to make a pit-stop on your way home for me, give me a minute.” She disappeared into her office, you could hear the mumble of brief conversation between her and Adam as you stood, gathering the things you needed to take home with you. You were just pulling on your blazer when she exited her office, file in hand, “Be a darling and take this to Barba?”

“‘Course.” You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest at her words as you placed the file into your bag, but the flutter turned into absolute hammering as Rita’s hand reached toward your neck, her fingers gently closing around the clasp of your necklace that had fallen to your collarbone, swiftly moving it to the back of your neck. Her hand trailed down the chain, making sure the gem was straightened properly before giving your flustered face a warm smile.

“And go home once you’re done. It’s supposed to storm tonight. I’ll call you if I need anything…enjoy your smut.”

You laughed outwardly at the comment, barely able to form a word much less a sentence after the intimate action, you waved her a goodbye and headed from the building. You got the D.A’s office to find Carmen gone and Rafael’s office empty, on your way back to the elevator one of the SVU detectives you recognized was able to tell you he was in Part 33 over at the courthouse.

Thanking them, you made your way across the street, you couldn’t interrupt the trial just to drop off a motion, you’d have to wait until they were adjourned, quietly taking a seat in the back row of the courtroom. It was interesting to watch Barba go up against a different attorney, his usual flair was still there, but there was less playfulness than when he went up against Rita. You knew they were friends, that she’d originally worked for the prosecution, their friendly banter was half the fun of watching their cases.

You practically scoffed at the pitiful excuse of a defence attorney, Barba was definitely on his way to winning this case. More surprising was the fact that the Judge let them bring another witness forward, it was already well past six, things were usually wrapped up by five. Part of you was tempted to take out what you’d been working on prior to the errand, but more of you was intrigued in watching how the scene in front of you would unfold, analyzing how both sides were playing things. Finally the Judge called it just past seven p.m, the court room quickly clearing out as you swam upstream to the prosecution table.

“Ah..Miss Russell. To what do I owe the honour?”

“Rita asked me to drop this off on my way home.” You extended the file between you, “I tried your office but Carmen was already gone.” He flipped through the pages briefly,

“Thank you for waiting. I’m afraid I’m going to have to extend your day further, I’ve got a couple motions back in my office she’ll want before Monday.” You sighed lightly, ever wishing you were already home with a bottle of wine to start your weekend, “Sorry.” Rafael muttered as the two of you made your way out of the courtroom.

“It’s fine. She lives in Tribeca, not far from here.” Your distracted mind missed the grin from the A.D.A as he held the courthouse door open for you. The skies were already glooming overhead, you quickly followed him back to Hogan Place, exchanging pleasantries on your walk, you were ever thankful that he didn’t seem to resent you for working with the defence. Back in his office he swiftly dug out what Rita needed and you shot him a quick thank you and a good night as you closed the office door behind you.

Making it back onto the city streets you grimaced, the sky was already practically black, the storm Rita mentioned clearly moving in. You hadn’t been to her apartment yet, but you knew it couldn’t be that far, plugging the address into your phone, thankful you at least had your own set of keys in case she happened to be out. You made it at least three blocks before it starting drizzling, groaning in annoyance once again.

Rita was surprised to hear a knock at her door, it was late enough she’d forgone work, changed out of her business attire and was settled into some nighttime t.v with a glass of wine. She wasn’t sure exactly who would be able to get passed the doorman, moving to the door quietly before pulling it open.

“Y/N..what’re you-“

“Sorry to bother you, Barba said you’d want these before Monday..he was all caught up in court, things got delayed.” Your hand extended the motions out to the other woman, surprised when her hand softly closed around your wrist, pulling you into the apartment.

“Sweetheart you’re drenched!” The concern etched across her face and you gave a little shrug,

“I..thought I could beat the storm here…I’ll call an Uber to get home, I’ll be fine.” The papers in your hand were swiftly tossed to the kitchen island,

“Darling your teeth are practically chattering, I’m not letting you go back out there to get sick. I need you in good working health, come in.” Rita took your bag from you, placing it onto a spare kitchen stool, “What’d’you say you head down the hall to a nice hot shower? I’ll get you some dry clothes, leave yours on the basin and I’ll throw them in the wash.”

“But-“

“No buts. Through the bedroom to the right, I’m afraid the guest shower isn’t set up currentlly.” She gave you a semi stern yet caring look that had you instantly agreeing, moving quickly through the apartment.

Honestly you were thankful, you weren’t exactly dressed for rain, or for the cold, the warm water of the shower cascading over your skin making you sigh in relief. You’d left the door cracked open so Rita could swap out the clothes, your ears pricking up when you heard movement, breath slightly hitching at the idea of her being in the same room while you were naked. You tried to be as quick as possible, warming your body up the best you could before shutting the water off, curling a fluffy warm towel around you. You dried yourself off, pulling on the pyjama pants and oversized shirt Rita had left you (honestly surprised at the fact she even had such a shirt). You did your best to dry off you hair with the towel, combing through it with your fingers. Sneaking through the bathroom you found some hair serum, tracing it through your locks before you hung the towel back up and padded your way back to the main area of the apartment.

“Feeling better?” Rita asked from behind the kitchen island, mixing what looked like hot chocolate as she gave you a soft smile.

“A world better. Thank you.”

“Take a cab next time…I’ll reimburse you.” You half laughed at her response,

“You don’t have to do that.”

“If it’ll stop you from running through rain storms, I do.” She moved to grab a bottle of Bailey’s from a cabinet, “Any allergies?”

“Just penicillin.” You replied, moving into the open kitchen.

“Good to know.” She dumped a hefty amount of liquor into both mugs, sliding one over to you.

“Thanks.” Your hands grasped the mug, sighing at its warmth against your skin. Rita’s elbow nudged at your arm, motioning for your to follow her into the living room.

“How do you feel about Gilmore Girls?��

“The new stuff or the original seasons?”

“The original.” She nearly scoffed, smiling at your laugh as you placed your mug on the coffee table before dropping down onto the couch. You were quick to tug the blanket that was over the back of the couch around your legs as you pulled them up beside you, eager to feel the warmth from the room rather than the chill in your bones from the storm outside.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Wonderful .” Rita settled beside you, her shoulder nearly brushing yours as you both settled into the couch.

A few hours passed of t.v watching while your boozy hot chocolates were refilled, Rita took a quick pit stop to move your rain stormed clothes from the washer to the dryer. When she returned to the living room, she couldn’t help but smile, the image of you curled up on her couch, mug in both hands as you smiled at the show in front of you, how comfortable and at home you felt? You looked like you belonged there.

It was a few hours later, your mugs drained empty, your head had found a home against Rita’s shoulder, not that you had intended it, but the day had taken a toll on you. You’d been exhausted hours ago, but now you were content and happy and exhausted. Rita gently nudged you, a hand stroking your arm softly,

“You awake sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You mumbled, pushing yourself up to sit upright, “Sorry, I should go…” Her hand clasped around your wrist again, bringing your sleepy attention back to her.

“It’s still storming out there, I’m not sending you out in that. Take the guest room.”

“Are..you sure?” She gave you a soft smile, thumb stroking over the back of your hand.

“Yes. It’s the weekend, neither of us have to work tomorrow. Get some good sleep.” You both stood from the couch as she passed you your bag, hand on your back to guide you down the hallway, “Make yourself at home. Feel free to help yourself to breakfast if you wake up early.”

“Okay…” You paused in the entrance to the guest room, unsure of exactly what you were feeling, or what you wanted in that moment, “Thank you.”

“Sweet dreams darling.” Rita gave your arm a reassuring squeeze, slowly turning from you before moving down the hall as you shut the door.

Despite the incredibly comfortable bed, and the ever so quiet apartment, your body still woke you up at your regular hour. You did your best to curl up and get back to sleep, but your brain wouldn’t shut off. Heeding Rita’s words, you grabbed a couple of things from your bag, padding out to the kitchen as you made yourself at home at the island. An hour or so later, Rita emerged from her bedroom, a small grin on her face as she took you in, legs tucked under you on the stool, pen scribbling away as your eyes darted through the book. She was particularly taken by your breakfast, unable to hold back the comment as her brows furrowed.

“You know…there are such things as bowls?” You head shot up at the voice, an embarrassed smile on your face as you spooned another mouthful of cereal, “They’re…right next to the mugs in the cupboard.

“I know…” You admitted, “God..you think I’m weird.”

“What? You go through a phase in college where you were too lazy to do dishes?” She approached the kitchen, pouring out a mug of coffee for herself.

“I..uhm..no.” You paused slightly, waiting for Rita to face you again so you could at least try to look her in the eye, “When I was a kid my Dad used to always wake me up with a giant coffee mug of Froot Loops on Saturdays. The big like, souvenir kinda mugs, he’d spend all morning cuddled on the couch with me watching cartoons. I guess I kinda kept the habit…”

Jesus fucking Christ.

As if Rita couldn’t find you more adorable.

Your weird breakfast habit was actually something that made you even cuter? You loved your Dad more than anything, that was already apparent, but knowing you held onto such a small tradition from your childhood? It made her wish you were easier to hate or something.

“That is…fucking adorable. I’ll allow it.” You chuckled softly at her legal terms, your flushed cheeks aiming downward at her praise, “And I can’t say I’ll watch cartoons with you, but if you want a little cuddle…that’s more than okay.” Your head practically shot up at that, doing your best to control the emotions on your face.

“Are..you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart.” She topped up your coffee, “Everyone deserves affection, doesn’t matter where it comes from.”

She gave you a warm smile, guiding you back over to the couch. There was no way you had thought your weekend would bring you to this, yet here you were. You started out with a Netflix binge, your head leaning against Rita’s shoulder like the night before, though this time her arm was around you, encouraging you to snuggle deeper. It was about halfway through the afternoon that your legs felt tight, needing to stretch them out your head ended up in Rita’s lap. You thought it would be a quick lil stretch without having to stand, but the moment her hand hit your hair you were done for, remaining there until your phone went off a few hours later. You checked the notification, realizing how late it was,

“I should really get going.” You mumbled, pushing up from the couch. “I’ll change quick and be out of your hair.” You grabbed your now clean clothes from the spare living room chair, darting off to put them on and return Rita’s to hers. When you returned to the open area Rita was leaning against the back of the couch,

“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs. You text me when you’re home.”

“Rita.” You laughed softly, “I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab.”

“I know that. But you deserve to be taken care of.” Her lips softly met your cheek as you bid each other good night.

“Thank you.” You gave her a warm smile before you darted out of the apartment door, your heart feeling like it was going a million miles a minute. You weren’t sure exactly what was going on, but you sure as hell liked it.

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #law and order svu #sugar mommy #law and order #svu #law and order special victims unit

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ffxivaltaholic · 9 months

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Prompt #24: (Your Choice) Trust

FFxivWrite2023

Without a doubt, the Diarmune could be a stubborn man depending on the situation. Generally he comes off rather passive and docile, preferring to avoid conflict, but once in a while there is the odd thing that he simply digs his heels in about and that's it. This was one such time and it all started with a snarky comment.

"You could never tame on of those beasts... Can't trust them not to eat you the moment you turn around." It was one of very few times where he was genuinely miffed at his friend and fellow Gleaner Tanalas, but Dia decided it was better to simply prove the other Viera wrong, rather than simply argue it.

So he did just that. Finding a perfectly health seed, Dia hatched the Morbol Seedling and dedicated all of his time to earing it's trust and training it to recognize him in a positive way. Of course there were the odd set backs, and at some points Dia even questioned if he really would be able to tame such a naturally aggressive creature.

It took many months of dedicated work to even get to a point where he could have the seedling out and about with him without worry it would attack other creatures, but finally a break through. Something in their relationship changed, and the Morbol started to behave less aggressive towards him, even ceasing it's attempts to use it's tiny bad breath. A few years passed and the Seedling turned into a juvenile, growing significantly and starting to develop it's brighter tips, the greens and yellows shifting to more orange and red tones. While he couldn't bring it with him from Labyrinthos, they went on smaller adventures within the safety of the area.

Two more years passed before the Morbol reached it's full size and impressive color scheme. There had been the odd few set backs, but they had triumphed over it, and finally Dia felt it was time to introduce his friend.

So he did what any petty person would do in this situation... Invited his friend to visit without actually telling him about the monstrous Seedkin that was waiting for him. Perhaps the intended scare was a bit of revenge for doubting Dia... but it certainly did the trick. The other Gleaner had screamed like a child when the Morbol wriggled itself over the hill and rumbled towards him, startling the man severely and causing him to trip and slide on the grass to get away. Dia however simply stood and waited as the Morbol came to a halt by his side. Never had Diarmune held such a satisfied 'I told you so' look in all the years they had known each other.

"I... Guess I owe you an apology..." Tanalas muttered, brushing the dirt off his clothes. "You actually did it... You tamed a damn Morbol..." His words received a most delighted smile from Dia as he reached up to pat the Morbol's jaw. "Told you I could. Her names Dahlia." At the name his friend simply stared, concerned for the obsessive nature of the Viera to have actually dedicated the time and risk of body harm just to prove he could.

"I guess you win... C-can we go now? I feel like she's sizing me up for a meal..." He could hear the nervousness in his friend's voice, and finally Dia nodded, giving his Morbol the cue to return to her specially made terrarium. Now he could easily study her and develop his anti-bad breath spray without risk to his or the Morbol's safety.

"I think you owe me lunch." Dia mused, gently nudging Tanalas with his elbow. "For doubting me." Am amused smirk formed on the other Viera's face and finally he nodded, admitting to his defeat.

"Fine, but I am -never- betting against you again... That was absolutely insane. Impressive, but stupid." Folding his arms over his chest Tanalas simply sighed and started to head off down the will.

"Well, you coming? Lunch is waiting."

#ffxivwrite2023 #Diarmune Rhet-khas #He is really fascinated by the different Seedkin species #but Morbols are his favorite

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freeworldallahexecutivembaclass · 1 year

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If I take it back to Will Smith who is sorta of my maker the fresh prince and all you wanted is me to build help which is that meaning of the 5 dollars Captain Junior Smith means to build and I will help you get your freedom from that curse on your life and freedom from people cursing and give you a clean new life well scroll through this page I did that see my list of accomplishment and my plans and ideas for the betterment of society I did that and plus more for our community so my freedom please , emancipation good movie my freedom so I could go enjoy my life and time left on this earth I will be Young a Jay Z forever . Thank you Keeanu Reeves for your new Movie John Wick 4 that is a good movie I met Lawrence Fishburne when he was making the matrix part 1 while working at Food Emporium on 68th street New York City on my lunch break he must of been out studying me he will remember that as he live and breathe and saw the matrix in Kingsboro rehabilitation center in 1998 and the movie came out in 1999 the matrix is actually an altered reality with little like cubio dots that is in front of your eyes before the sun and daylight so I can't see I see what the puppet masters and mind control want me to see in the movie no lie it is the begining of the movie the green stuff on the black screen and now they got me in a different institution Kingsboro micra program oh snap I'm the one if I'm the one then I stopped any war between me and Hollywood and Hip Hop and most importantly the public I stopped it don't end the world because of what happened to me I'm with Keeanu Reeves let me make my comeback so Morpheus which is no lie not trying to be famous was my brother now it is 50 Cent and Jay Z and Beyonce and yes of course I want to win and train to win . Hey Will Smith I completed the job now I will take my freedom emancipation and sorry about all the wrong I did to people from stealing their video games lying and breaking my mom's window I just want my freedom from people and let the world go back to normal and stop the pandemic if I'm the one at least start everything going back to normal I want to be the greatest comeback ever and train the one are the ones that put in the effort strength and passion to be the one I want my chance in life , you owe my freedom for helping building in my community and my chance or you will be hating and shallow now that is a big word in the definition you can look it up if you want to I just called you a hater and shallow what you going to do about that let me get on and get up from the fight in life take that voodoo off of me and let me live my life , thank you .

youtube

#Youtube

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quillsandtypos · 3 years

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The Edge in Revenge

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, degradation, female oral receiving, sexual edging, and underage drinking mentioned (NO SEASON 2 SPOILERS, I just started watching season one but I needed to get this out of my head)

Pairings: JJ Maybanks x fem!reader

...........................................

JJ really shouldn’t have been the one to underestimate what you were capable of doing in the name of revenge. He’d been fucking with you all day. It had started that morning, you were alone in his kitchen as the other Pogue’s were still asleep. He had you pinned up against the wall lightly sucking on the side of your neck. As he trailed down to your collarbone he suddenly pulled away. You furrowed your brows at him but he just winked and smirked before he walked away; leaving you wet and confused.

Then later after lunch he managed to get you alone before you and the other pogue’s went out on the water. You were still inside grabbing the cooler, as everyone else was already on the boat. He snuck up behind you unbeknownst to you. You felt his hot breath on his ear. “You need help with that princess?” he asked cockily. You felt his warm cock press against the back of your ass, and his hand was at the small of your back.

“Oh definitely,” you responded eagerly. You turned to him as he easily pulled you in with one arm around your back, and the other at the back of your neck. Your lips interlocked, and you hungrily kissed him back, almost begging for more. But just as the time before, he quickly pulled back. Grabbing the cooler from behind you and heading out the door. With a ‘thanks!’ and a barely contained giggle. Oh he was a dead man, you decided right then that revenge was most definitely an order.

So you came up with the perfect scheme. If he wanted to play that game, then he would quickly learn who he was quite literally playing with.

“Ki,” you said. You quickly pulled her away from the boys. “I need a favor, I need you to get JB and Pope away from JJ.”

“Do I even want to know?” she laughed.

“It’s in the name of revenge,” you offered hopefully. She let out a long fake sigh.

“Hmm, let me think,” she took a long pause.

She cracked a smile. “I’m just kidding, you should’ve started with the revenge part.”

“Yes! Thank you,” you said, hugging her tightly.

“Come on JB, we’re gonna go help Pope with whatever he’s doing in the kitchen,” she said, pulling him along.

“What? Oh, okay,” John agreed confusedly as he awkwardly followed her.

And so then there were two. You casually flopped yourself down on JJ’s lap, who seemed slightly startled at first, but then just wrapped his arms around your waist. As much as it was a sweet gesture, you didn’t sit there to be sweet, so you needed to ruin the moment. Lightly, you rolled your hips back so you went right across his dick, and then rolled forward, making sure to move slowly but applying a small amount of your body weight as pressure. You weren’t certain he was giving you a look that could kill, but you didn’t bother looking. But what you did do was speed up a little bit until you felt his dick grow hard.

Smiling a smug grin you moved to get off of him. But his arms helds you there. He swiftly pulled you down onto his chest so your right ear was directly next to his mouth. “When we are alone next, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming,” he whispered lowly.

You adjusted your head so you could see his face. “As if you could ever have that effect on me,” you smirked.

“Care to up the stakes then? Or are you too chicken?” His eyes gleamed, and at the same time so did your’s.

“Name your price,” you said confidently.

“If I can get you to beg, then you owe me a six pack of beers.”

“That’s it?” you asked, surprised.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fine, a six pack of beers, and you have to go skinny dipping with me next Friday night.”

“But I have to work next Friday,” you suddenly remembered.

“What? Not feelin so cocky now princess? Afraid you’ll lose?” he taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Of course not. So what do I get if I can make you beg?” You poked him in the chest for emphasis.

“Alright, if you win, then you get me as your personal boat driver, or person who gets you things, or whatever,” he offered.

“You sure that’s quite a high bargain JJ?” you now taunted back.

“Yeah, I’m not worried,” he replied cockily. He offered you his hand to shake and you took it.

“Prepare to be my personal maid,” you said.

“You better prepare to beg,” he countered.

You moved off of him just as your friends came out of the kitchen. “You guys wanna come with, we’re going for a night swim?” Johnny B offered.

“Nah, we might be out later though,” JJ answered before you could.

“Suit yourselves,” Pope shrugged. Kiera sent you a wink before also heading out the door with them.

JJ and you practically booked it to his room as soon as they shut the door. You quickly grabbed a condom from his drawer where you knew them to be by memory. You turned to throw him the condom to see that he was already on his bed with his shirt off. Every piece of your body was drawn to his chest and the way his back muscles looked in the low light, but you weren’t going to let him know that. So you deflected.

“Someone’s eager,” you commented.

“I-” JJ started to defend himself but the comment got stuck in his throat as he watched your movements. You began slipping your shirt off to reveal a black bra that was sheer, and lacy around the straps and underwire area. It pushed your boobs up nicely and accentuated your cleavage perfectly. JJ was a mess.

“This is so not fair,” he groaned, his jaw practically on the floor.

You knew the effect the lingerie would have on him, which is exactly why you picked it. “What? You too chicken J?” you said, using his taunt from earlier.

Your words made him recover quickly. “No, of course not,” he scoffed.

“That's what I thought you’d say,” you smirked. Now you let your jean shorts fall to the floor, so you were able to show your black thong, which was not as fancy looking, but you knew it would practically make JJ lose it.

You were right, he looked like you had placed him under a spell. When he finally snapped out of it, he pointed next to him. “Bed princess. Now.”

He was almost making this too easy. “I don’t know about that. How about please?”

JJ nearly opened his mouth, but quickly caught himself before he could say anything. “Fine, I’ll do it myself,” he smirked. He moved off the bed, to grab you. You tried to avoid his hands, but there wasn’t much room to run around, so he easily caught you. He threw you onto his bed, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Before you could even think about running off again, he jumped on the bed, flipped you onto your back, and pinned you. His knees were on your hands, effectively keeping you from touching him.

“Are you going to be a good slut and scream for me?” he asked. His face a few inches from yours.

“Not a chance J,” you smiled.

“Have it your way then, but either way, you’ll still be moaning my name.” His arms lowered so he could dip down to kiss a couple inches above your collarbone. His knees still held your hands in place. He sucked hard against your skin, making sure to leave marks.

“Wait, no marks JJ,” you told him.

“Should’ve told me that sooner now everyone’s gonna know that you lost a bet,” he teased.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed.

JJ didn’t have a comment on that, but went back to work leaving you many bruises that you would have to cover the next morning. Oh how you wished your hands could be in his hair at the moment. He made an agonizingly slow trail down to your bra, before removing it and throwing it onto the floor of his room. He then started sucking on one of your breasts letting his lower lip just gently brush against your nipple everytime he sucked above it. He had found out about the spot driving you crazy the first time you had sex, and now you were strongly wishing you had never told him.

You had your mouth clenched rather tightly so that no moans would escape your lips. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend noticed that.

“Come on y/n, just let it out. You know that no one can make you cum like I do,” he taunted.

Luckily, his temporary break gave you a chance to get control of yourself again. “Fuck off,” you retorted.

“Yeah, that was kinda the plan.” He grinned devilishly.

He must’ve realized that he was not going to get you to break by doing that, and instead moved farther down to pull your panties off.

His head ducked down to your pussy, but he made eye contact just as he did so. “You still feeling cocky?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Alright, then let’s see how long that lasts since you’re such a slut for me,” he said with a wink before ducking his head fully down. He sucked another hickey on the inside of your thigh, and he slowly started licking towards your pussy. You could practically feel his tongue against your clit, but he was taking his sweet time.

“Stop teasing,” you finally groaned out.

“Is that begging I hear?” he questioned.

“No, I’m telling,” you said matter of factly.

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed with a chuckle.

His tongue slowly started lapping across your folds, occasionally flicking along your clit. Oh god you were in heaven, but simultaneously in hell because you couldn’t make a peep. His tongue once again licked across your spot, and you had to slap your hands over your mouth to keep a moan from escaping your lips. You could feel the smirk on his lips, but you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

A few whimpers nearly came out of your body, and your hands were nearly shaking from trying to hold it in. But all of a sudden you realized that letting it out may be to your advantage, hearing your noises of pleasure, always had quite the effect on him.

So you did. Every moan, and whimper you let him hear. He thought that he was getting to you, which truthfully he was, but the game was far from over.

“You’re eating me out so good,” you moaned.

Your plan was already working; you noticed that he started to pick up the pace.

“Oh god JJ!” you screamed as he licked over a good spot on your pussy.

He continued licking in that exact spot which almost made you want to give up the bet right then in there. You felt shivers go through your spine as your core started to heat up but you were too stubborn to lose yet.

“No one fucks me like you do,” you moaned, knowing damn well the effect it would have on him.

Your plan seemed to have worked as he quickly took off his shorts, put on the condom, and just as his cock was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“Beg,” you insisted.

“Y/n fucking pl-” You had nearly had him, but he managed to stop himself before the words tumbled out.

You smirked, as he finally realized what you were doing. He however was now hell bent on making you lose. JJ climbed back on top of you with new vigor. “You’re smart, which is exactly why breaking you will be so much more fun,” he taunted. His head went back down again.

Your hands entangled in his hair as he went back to licking every single nook and cranny that he could find. “Fuck,” you whimpered as he once again licked your even more sensitive clit. You could feel the tension burning in your core, and a tingling sensation starting to spread all over. You started to buck your hips from the stimulation, and JJ was quick to force you back down. As his flicking became more rapid, you felt your body start to tense up.

“JJ I’m gonna-” you had started, but suddenly he had stopped.

“Beg,” he told you. And as much as you wanted to give in you were determined to knock the cocky grin off his face.

You sat up on your elbows. “Make me.”

JJ looked delighted by your answer. “That’s fine I got all night.”

“Inside me JJ,” you told him. You knew he wanted to make you beg for that as well, but you knew that he wanted to be inside you more.

He thrusted his cock into you and you did your best not to slide backwards from him pushing into you. “Oh my god you’re so wet for me, you really have been waiting.”

After he had checked on you he began slowly thrusting into you, going deep into you. “Oh shit,” he moaned. He would have to explain a lot of scratches across his back tomorrow but quite frankly you didn’t care.

“JJ!” you half moaned, half screamed as he went down again.

“You’re such a dirty slut for me aren’t you?” he taunted you.

You wanted to have some sort of retort but all that came out of your mouth was another moan, which just egged him on more.

“Come on, I know you’re tempted.”

Truthfully, you were extremely tempted, but you could surely outlast him right? But then you had an idea, he couldn’t stop it if he didn’t know what was coming. So as you felt your body starting to be strung out again you did you best to keep your breathing the same, and to not move around as much. But just as you felt the tension building he stopped.

“JJ?” you groaned in confusion.

“You seriously don’t think I don’t know when you’re going to have an orgasm?” he laughed. He pushed his hair out of his face and grinned down at you.

“Y/n you might as well just give up now, and spare yourself,” he suggested.

Collecting what small amount of strength you had left you said “Not a chance.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he smirked.

The warning was evidently very necessary, your whole body was starting to feel ten times more sensitive than it usually did. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasant goosebumps through your body. Your legs were shaking, and your voice was admittedly starting to go away. Your body felt like it was screaming that it wanted to orgasm. He started to slow down, but you were so close. You attempted to buck your hips into his to get the feeling back but he held you down. With a satisfactory grin on his face, that you needed it so bad.

“You’re not getting an orgasm unless you beg and we both know that I could fuck you for hours,” he taunted.

“Fine, fine, fine, please, please, please let me cum J, please. I am begging you,” you whined.

“That’s all you had to say princess,” he smirked. Finally his pace picked back up, to a more rapid one.

“Fuck you feel so good,” you moaned to him. There was no point keeping it in now. Your hips bucked in rhythm with his, as he moved in and out. But his rhythm slowed down as what you recognized as his climax.

“Oh god,” you heard him say as it finally hit him. His moans of pleasure only sped up your’s. “Fuck,” he moaned on top of you. But he managed to push himself back up to go down into you a couple more times for you to reach your climax.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire with tingles. The feeling spread from your stomach to your breasts to throughout your whole body. Your legs began to shake and you couldn't form words anymore. The only coherent thought you could form was how good you felt. Even after you had reached your climax, you had a sense of euphoria that you just couldn’t shake.

Eventually, you felt JJ start to move out of you, and you both whimpered slightly from how sensitive you were. You saw him take the condom off and throw it away. You lay in bed, still breathing heavily.

“Give me your hand, we’re going to the bathroom,” he said sweetly, but insistently. You groaned but you didn’t protest.

After you had used the toilet, you both flopped back down in his bed. It was quiet for a couple minutes before JJ spoke up.

“You know I’m really excited to see what beers you get me,” he teased.

“Shut up,” you laughed, lightly smacking him in the arm.

He lightly smacked you back. “Oh and don’t forget to call off for Friday tomorrow morning,” he grinned.

“I hate you,” you said as you rolled over.

“I love you,” he said sweetly, as he wrapped his arms around your midsection.

He always had a way of making you happy. “Love you too J,”

“Goodnight princess,” he said as he kissed your cheek.

“Goodnight JJ.” And you quickly fell fast asleep in his arms.

Needless to say, the other pogue’s weren’t worried that you never came outside. They knew where they would find the two of you the next morning.

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selfcarecap · 3 years

Text

Dumbass [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: You know Peter has a crush on someone. Peter knows you have a crush on someone. How long will it take for you to realise you’re each other’s crushes?

warnings: a bit of smut, awkwardness but not too much?, fluff

word count: 2.5k

-this is a repost of an old fic-

using this gif (not mine) again

“Did you see Peter in his blue sweater today? That colour suits him so much,” you say to Mj, “But the flannel the other day? Looked so good too. I think every colour is Peter’s colour-” Mj makes a gagging sound, and you shut up.

Face heating up, you stop gushing about Peter and pretend to be occupied with a textbook instead.

“She has the cutest smile I’ve ever seen, Ned. You can’t tell me otherwise. And sometimes when I catch her not paying attention in class, you know her head lying on the table and looking around the room like she’s dreaming, I just want to go straight to her and cuddle her.“

Peter stops walking when he realises Ned’s gone. He goes back a few steps and finds the entrance of the cafeteria that he just went past.

He catches up to Ned, hoping that no one saw him talking to himself about you.

You greet Peter with a smile when he and Ned join you at lunch.

Mj is the first to speak, pointing at you, “This girl needs to shut up about- ow,” you kick her under the table.

“Don’t worry I’m not spilling your secret. I was just going to tell Ned how annoying it is that you constantly talk about a certain someone.”

You glare at her and she smiles devilishly.

“You have a crush on someone?” Peter asks you, voice a little higher than usual.

“Oh um, it’s nothing,” your face feels hot.

Mj furrows her brows, “That’s bullshit. She’s actually in love and it’s annoying.”

“Tell me about it. Peter keeps going on and on about- ow! Peter, what the fuck? I wasn’t going to say her name, that’s not my secret to tell,“ Ned says.

Mj and him exchange a look that implies they both know who your crush is, and also who Peter’s crush is.

If Mj knows, why hasn’t she told you yet? She probably doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, and she keeps telling you to stop talking about Peter as a subtle way to let you know you have no chance because he’s into someone else.

Who could it be? You wouldn’t be surprised if Peter had a crush on Mj - she’s beautiful.

Even if it is her, Peter’s not Mj’s type, so maybe you still have a chance.

But you’re not sure if you’d want to compete against your best friend, even if she’s not interested in Peter. Whoever it is, according to Ned, Peter’s so deep in already that it would take a while to win him over anyway.

You can hear Peter calling your name in your daydream. He says your name so many times that you finally realise he’s saying it in real life, “Oh-what?” you ask, realising that it’s only you and him left at the table.

“Don’t we have chemistry?”

“We do, yeah.”

“Okay, then do you want to walk to class together?”

Oh, he’s talking about the school subject. Of course, of course.

You and Peter have a few classes together that day, and you’re staring at him throughout more than half of the time. Only when he notices your staring and looks at you - that’s when you quickly divert your gaze.

Staring at Peter makes the time go by fast. Before you know it, everyone around you is packing their things.

You catch Peter looking at you out of the corner of your eye. He hesitates for a few seconds but then walks over to you.

“Uh this new film’s out with uh.. Pete Davidson, I think. Maybe you want to watch it together.. like with me I mean?”

His forehead’s almost dripping in sweat and he corrects himself, “Just as friends, of course.”

“Yeah for sure. When’s it on?”

“Any day, really. I’m free today or next week if you want.”

You’re having a good hair day, so you tell him today sounds good.

“I can text you what time it’s on and you just tell me what fits best, then?”

“Yup, can’t wait!”

You manage to flee before breaking out in the biggest smile ever, not wanting to show him any type of reaction that might reveal your crush on him.

On your way home, you get a text from Peter, telling you when it’s on.

It’s weird to be texting him.

So far you’ve only messaged each other about college or when you were meeting as a group with Mj and Ned.

You grin at your phone as you realise this progression. Maybe you still have a chance after all.

To make sure you know what to expect you ask Mj if Peter invited her too, but she replies with a suggestive text, teasing you and calling it a date.

No matter how excited you truly feel, you try to calm yourself down. Just a few hours ago Ned was telling you about Peter’s crush. Maybe he really just wants to become better friends with you. Or what if he wants to ask you for girl advice - and Mj’s not invited because he wants to ask you about her?

Instead of overthinking, you spend about an hour distracting yourself with possible outfits until you’re happy with the outcome. Cute but casual.

Peter’s eyes go wide when he sees you and you’re sure he’s about to compliment you.

That’s when he bites his lip and seems to remember that he has a crush on someone else, so he just holds the door open for you.

You don’t really feel awkward until the cashier suggests the couples deal for you, which you both decline too quickly.

Apart from the sex scene in the first five minutes, during which you try not to move or do anything to pull Peter’s attention towards you, the film is nice.

After you both get more comfortable next to each other, you start whispering funny things, or how the mother looks exactly like Aunt May, to each other and don’t hold back when laughing.

Even though the film’s good, it’s over two hours and you’re getting a little tired. You’d love to lean your head against Peter’s shoulder but if he shrugs you off because he doesn’t like you like that, you wouldn’t survive the embarrassment.

Instead, you give him the chance to possibly make the first step, laying your hand on the rest between your seats.

His hand brushes against yours after a few minutes and your heart speeds up. However, he apologises quickly, he’d just been going to grab his drink.

You stay in your seats when the film’s over, waiting in case there’s another scene at the end. As the credits roll on the screen, you start talking again.

At some point, you thank him for inviting you and tell him you had a nice time.

He doesn’t respond. His mouth is open only slightly. Peter bites his lip and leans towards you.

Wait, is he about to kiss you?

“What about your crush?” you ask before his lips can touch yours, wanting to punch yourself in the face just as the words leave your mouth.

He sits back with an open mouth again, hand going to scratch his neck.

“Sorry, I just thought you were going to kiss me but then I remembered how Ned said you have a crush on someone and I don’t want to like.. get between you and them if there’s anything going on.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I forgot you have a crush on someone else um, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah I have a crush but..,” you can’t believe you’re telling him, “I have a crush on you. I know you said this isn’t a date and stuff but I still like you.”

You’re both confused at the whole situation, looking at each other, silently asking what’s going on. Did you really just confess?

“You... have a crush on me?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say.

“But.. I have a crush on you.”

You pause once more before realising,

“Wait, are we both dumbasses?”

“I think so,” Peter says, leaning over the armrest again and you’re ready to bury your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck.

Just as you’re about to kiss, the same cashier from earlier clears his throat from beside you, “Sorry, but the film’s over. I have to clean here.”

You both murmur apologies and gather your things in a rush.

It’s hard to get into the same topic again after you’ve gone to the bathroom and you’re on your way home.

The moment is gone but you’re sure he’s thinking about the same thing as you.

You’re the person Peter has a crush on, and just that makes you want to smile the whole time on your way home.

You live a block away from Peter so you convince him that you can go the one street alone, walking him up to his door.

He’s the one who brings up the moment from the cinema.

“You know what I said earlier, I meant it. You’re the girl I have a crush on. The only one.”

“I also meant what I said.”

You smile and climb up the last step so you’re level with him.

Peter’s eyes close as he moves towards you and you do the same, ready to feel his lips on yours but a voice interrupts you, “Get it, girl!” It’s Mj.

“That’s my boy!” Ned adds.

You both turn to see where the voices are coming from.

On the other side of the street, you see Mj and Ned with empty pizza boxes, rooting for you.

“Were they spying on us to see if we figured out that we’re each other’s crushes.. and to see us kiss?”

“Shit, looks like it,” Peter chuckles, “Sorry, that really killed the mood, huh?

“I don’t know. I still really want to kiss you.”

He grins and you see him flip Ned off before suggesting, “Maybe we can go inside so our best friends don’t watch our first kiss.”

You giggle and push him past the door, throwing a last glare over your shoulder to see Mj giving you a thumbs up.

Standing in Peter’s stairwell, you’re only a few inches from him, ready to finally get the kiss you’ve been waiting for, in private.

You smile at each other, cheeks hurting because of it.

Yet another time, as you can already feel his breath against your face, you’re interrupted.

This time it’s a cute dog though, wagging its tail and jumping up at your legs, “Dodger!” the bearded owner calls his dog over, “Sorry for interrupting you two. Have a nice evening.”

“You too, sir,” you say, looking at Peter who’s running a hand over his face.

“I think everyone’s collective goal for today is to stop us from kissing.”

“Well, I’m not letting them win. How about we go to your room?”

Once you’re in his apartment you’re stopped by May, who teases you two about your date.

Somehow you end up making small talk with her for at least fifteen minutes. When you tell her about the actress in the film who looked like her she wants to see photos online, and you and Peter manage to escape to his room when she gets carried away on her laptop.

As soon as the door falls shut, Peter presses you up against the door, kissing you as if his life depended on it. You also get a chance to run your hands through his soft hair, pulling at the ends of it.

You progress to the bed, and at first the kisses stay innocent, his hands on your waist or back.

But after a few minutes, the kisses get wetter, just like your panties.

You have no intention of scaring Peter off or corrupting him after your first date, so you start pulling away, out of breath.

He notices that your body language is suddenly different, “Everything okay?”

You sit back on your knees, fanning yourself and putting a small distance between you two.

“Are you hot? Do you want water?” he asks.

“Thanks, I’m okay. I think I should go now.”

You’re desperate to touch yourself, and you’ll be home in less than ten minutes.

Peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist as you stand up, “Did I do something wrong? I-I thought you-”

“No! You’re fine, you’re great actually. I just wasn‘t expecting you to be this great already.” You have a feeling your eyes are shining just as brightly as Peter’s.

“Oh wait- are you?”

You nod, “I’m… really turned on right now, but you don’t owe me anything but maybe we should stop the kissing as long as you don’t want me to explode right now.”

“I’d love to help you, I just don’t know much about it.”

You lick your lips, “I honestly just need a little bit of friction.”

He looks at you, stretching one of his legs out from underneath him, “I don’t know if that’s going to work, do you maybe want to… like,” he motions to his thigh and you nod quickly, straddling his muscular leg.

“You sure that’s okay?”

“Use me however you want,” he says, “I mean not however. Maybe don’t like amputate my leg or-”

You shut him up by taking his face in your hands and kissing him again, cutting off his nervous (but cute) rambling.

Getting used to the kissing and the position, you feel more confident after a few minutes.

Your hips start moving in a back and forth motion on his thigh, nearly crying out because you’re finally getting what you need.

Peter breaks up the kiss only to show you a quick grin, and he’s on you again.

He gives you breaks to breathe in between kisses as you’re starting to feel dizzy from the pleasure and not breathing properly, but it all feels too good.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whisper into his neck and his hands move to your ass, helping you move your hips quicker.

You do your best to stay quiet, as the feeling of an overwhelming orgasm washes through you, muffling your moan in his hoodie as pleasure takes over from riding his thigh.

Taking a deep breath once it’s over, you lift your head and Peter’s smiling up at you, rubbing your back, “That feel good?”

“Amazing. What about you?” you ask.

It’s getting harder to not acknowledge his boner, but Peter senses how tired you already are.

“You don’t have to do anything, just give me two minutes.”

He disappears for a few minutes while you recover.

You’re tempted to text Mj and let her know what just happened, but she’d just tease the fuck out of you so you think you’ll keep this secret for a bit.

You make it official to your small circle of friends a week later. But while you discover your boundaries and likes in the bedroom, you decide it’s only you two who need to know what exactly you‘re getting up to for now.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #this is the first repost where i’m a bit... hmmm. not sure this is tooo great lol #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #idk like the start is really cute and then it gets a bit... idk? and then at the end its fine again #but maybe someone wants it so i thought i’d repost it #the film is king of staten island btw. and marisa tomei plays his mom so....#lol #peter parker #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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bts-reveries · 2 years

Text

feelings | 7

After a failed attempt at working on homework together, Jimin and you are now at his friend Jin’s apartment! Along with Taehyung and Jungkook of course. And one more friend you were about to meet.

“Did you bring it?” Jungkook asks you right when you enter the door. You nod, walking up to him and handing him his switch. “Thank youuu~” He says, immediately sinking into the couch next to Taehyung.

“Hi!” You hear someone say excitedly behind you. “I’m Hobi,” he says, already leaning in for a hug.

“Hi, I’m Yn,” you say, giggling.

“Yn!” Jin yells from the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” You peek behind Hobi and smile at Jin.

“Yes,” you say. Jungkook taps your leg with his foot.

“Sit next to me,” he says. You turn around, flopping down next to him. “How was the study sesh?”

“Well I spent half of it on my phone and so Jimin scolded me a lot,” you tell him, resting your head on his shoulder. You watch the television as Jungkook and Taehyung play Mario kart.

“She’s very stubborn,” Jimin says, pointing at you. Jungkook laughs, nodding in agreement.

“I just, really don’t like math,” you say. “... anymore.”

“You’re majoring in architecture,” Jimin says.

“Okay, and?” you answer back.

“I like her,” Hobi says, smiling at you before walking to the kitchen to help Jin. Your eyes follow him and you see Jin putting meat on a chopping board.

“WOAH. You’re cooking all that? For lunch?” You say, immediately getting up and following Hobi. Jimin passes by you and takes your spot on the couch.

“Yeah, why? Are you not as hungry?” Jin answers. You put your hand over your mouth in awe, not knowing he was a good cook.

I mean, you’re assuming he is by the way he was prepping everything.

You take out your phone and take a picture of him. He looks at you surprised.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“This makes you even hotter,” you say, snapping another picture. He laughs, getting embarrassed. He then raises his hand to hide his face from the camera. “I’m posting this on twitter,” you say, leaning over the counter.

“So nothing changed?” Taehyung asks, screaming right after Jungkook passed him in the game.

“Between me and Yn?” Jungkook asks, leaning forward and keeping his eyes locked on the screen. “Are you trying to distract me? I’m not going to let you win.”

“Of course not, but yes between you two.” Jimin turns to the two, looking back and forth between Jungkook and Taehyung.

“Wait, do you…” Jimin says, turning to Jungkook.

“Have feelings for Yn?” Jungkook says, “yeah.” Jimin nods.

“Yeah and he needs help with winning her heart,” Taehyung says. “Oh– OH!” He yells, slowly standing up as he passes Jungkook and crosses the finish line. “YES! WOO!”

“Oh,” Jimin says. “Does she know? Or..”

“Yeah… I told her last night after you dropped her off,” Jungkook says, sighing as he puts the switch down.

“Why do you look like that?” Taehyung says, looking at Jimin and furrowing his brows. “Don’t tell me you like her too.” Jungkook looks up and stares at Taehyung for a few seconds before turning to Jimin.

“Oh. It’s okay if you do. She doesn’t like me back anyways. I’m sure you two would hit it off,” Jungkook says, smiling at Jimin before standing up and going to where you were.

Taehyung punches Jimin’s arm, making him flinch.

“Ow,” Jimin says, rubbing his arm as he frowns at his best friend.

“You can’t like her,” Taehyung says. “That’s against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The bro code! You can’t like another bro’s crush,” Taehyung explains. “That will ruin our friendship.”

“Yeah, I know, I won’t don’t worry,” Jimin says, turning to you. “I like her, but not in that way.”

“Then why did you react the way you did?” Jimin shrugs.

“I was just surprised I guess. I didn’t think any of them had feelings for each other. I was just thinking about how I probably made Jungkook uncomfortable when I’m around.”

“Is it because you’re really touchy around people you like,” Taehyung says, looking down at Jimin’s foot that is now on his lap.

“Yeah, I was literally holding her hand when he came up to us last night when I was dropping her off,” Jimin says, dropping his head on the couch. “I must’ve given him the wrong impression.. I have to tell him I don’t like her like that.”

“Wait, did you guys get the ice cream?” Hobi suddenly asks, looking at you with a worried expression. You felt your cheeks suddenly heat up.

“We forgot,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.” Jungkook laughs at you, shaking his head. Your eyes were big and your cheeks were noticeably more pink.

Hobi smiles at you, shaking his head. “It’s okay, we’ll just get some right now.” He then walks to the living room where the two boys were at and grabs his wallet and keys that were on the coffee table.

“Come, let’s buy ice cream,” Hobi says, gesturing for you and Jungkook. You and Jungkook were about to follow the older one when Jimin yelled.

“Jungkook!” The two of you froze and turned to him with both of your eyebrows raised. “Sorry,” Jimin says with a small laugh. “Yn, you can go with Hobi hyung, Jungkook, stay.”

Jungkook looks at you and you nod.

“He said stay Jungkook, be a good boy and listen to your hyung,” you joke, pushing him towards the boys on the couch. Jungkook glares at you as he walks towards Jimin.

“See you guys later,” you yell, walking out with Hobi.

“And again, I’m cooking alone,” Jin mumbles to himself, looking at the half chopped vegetables that Hoseok was helping with.

“I’ll help hyung,” Taehyung says, standing up and running next to Jin.

“I don’t like Yn,” Jimin says, loud enough for Jin to hear from the kitchen. Not that the kitchen was far from the living room. Actually, the only thing that separated the kitchen from the living room was the kitchen counter.

“You don’t like her?” Jin asks. “Why not? I think she’s great. She’s funny, she’s sweet, and she tells me that I’m good looking.” Jin finished it off by winking at Jimin. Taehyung laughs beside him.

“Yeah you’re right, she is funny. I think that last part that you just said was her best joke.” Jin turns and glares at the younger boy.

“Keep chopping those carrots.”

“No, not like that. I like her, she’s great. I meant that I don’t like her in a romantic way,” Jimin explains. “It might’ve come off wrong, I don’t want you to think I was trying to hit on her or anything. I’m sorry if it did look like it.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. If you do ever grow feelings for her, don’t let me stop you. I just want the best for her.”

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow at the two. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re too nice! Stop that, go fight for your girl!” He yells, holding the knife up. Jin’s eyes widens as he reaches around Taehyung and slowly brings his arm down.

“That’s enough of you in this kitchen, go sit down, thank you,” he says, pushing the younger boy away.

“Anyways,” Jin says. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on? What am I watching here?”

“Jungkook likes Yn. Jimin likes Yn as a friend but you know how Jimin is with his friends. He’s very touchy,” Taehyung explains while he walks to the couch. “Jimin found out like ten minutes ago that Jungkook has feelings for Yn and felt bad that Jungkook might’ve thought that he was trying to flirt with his crush because he was caught holding her hand last night, but really, Jimin was just being Jimin. And so Jimin is explaining to Jungkook that he only likes Yn as a friend. But Jungkook is too nice and is saying it’s okay if he does end up liking her in the future. Because he confessed to Yn last night and Yn didn’t feel the same way. He says that he just wants her to be happy so if Jimin is the one that can do that, then he’s okay with it. Even if it breaks his little heart.”

Jungkook blinks at Taehyung and Jimin laughs at the newbie.

“Taehyung’s favorite pastime is being a hopeless romantic. He lives for these moments. He really wants you to be the one that makes Yn happy.”

“Ooh, so the little one doesn’t know what to do with his feelings now does he?” Jin says.

“Yeah, I don’t. I didn’t really know what it would be like if I ever did confess to her,” Jungkook says. “It was either we ended up together, stayed friends, or stopped being friends.” He shrugs, “I was always scared it would be the last one so I never did it. But now that I did and we’re just friends… I don’t know how to get rid of the feelings right away.”

“You can’t just get rid of feelings after having them for so long– assuming you have liked her for a while,” Jin says. Taehyung nods.

“Since high school,” he answered for Jungkook.

“Then don’t give up. I’m sure if she stayed with you for this long, she’s bound to have some feelings,” Jin says.

“Okay, but, and I’m just playing the devil’s advocate here,” Jimin says. “I’m seriously rooting for you two. But let’s just say, what if she doesn't?” He says, crossing his arms and looking back and forth between the three guys. “A guy and a girl can be friends. It’s happened before.”

“That’s true,” Jungkook says. “For anything, I could just be a brother to her.” Taehyung winces at the thought.

“Jungkook, you two have so much potential,” Jin says. “I’m sure she’ll end up falling for you eventually. Now that she knows that you like her, it’s in her head. She’ll notice all the little things you do with her and she’ll start to realize that she actually wants to be with you. Trust me.”

“But what if she doesn’t,” Jimin says, resting his head on his hand.

“Are you sure you don’t like her?” Taehyung says. He pushes Jimin slightly. “Who’s side are you on?”

“Okay, I’ll stop, I’m sorry. Hyung?”

“Okay, okay,” Jin says, wiping his hands on a towel. “So this is what you’ll do.”

๑๑๑๑๑๑๑

feelings

๑ part seven: be a good boy ๑

pairings: jungkook x reader

a/n: i’m going to say this now before anyone comes at me in the future LOL but guys and girls can be friends without any romantic feelings!! for the sake of this au and my hopeless romantic self, that isn’t going to apply in my bts ff universe okay :) lol at least for the two main characters

taglist: @kookietsukkie @kookoo-kachoo @fan-ati–c @niki-ta @ephyra1230 @strwberry-jam @secretlycrazyhummingbird @aianloveseven @ggukkieland @starlitemotions @jikachoo @bloomsjeon @salty-for-suga @notvantaes @preciouschimine @ygbubs @somewhereofftheglobe @ramyagovindraj @jkmybby @sope-and-shine @taekookcaneatme @alittlestudycorner @shatzkrinslinzki @justinetingball @anaceciliaxr @mygooie0 @lovelyloverlia @hobiheavenly @kimchii7 @dae-bakk-pop @yoongishawtyyy @guksunshine @hobiheavenly @danny-boy27 @joonjoonsmiles @kaithezaftig @bubblytaetae @codeinebelle @timelessruins @palomanazareth @m10-94 @james-baybe @iamtheoriginalhybrid @butterflylion @fairielightsss @buzzyybee @heesha @casspirit0705 @xianav @letmebreathepls

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himbo-loving-himbo · 3 years

Text

Denki x alt! male reader

[REQUESTED]

Denki wasn’t the most secretive about his crush on 1A’s resident alt kid.

Fortunately for him, however, Y/N was extremely oblivious. I mean, seriously, with the amount of flirting Denki was doing even Azaiwa knew about it, and he could care less about his students’ love lives.

Y/N walked into class, decked out in his usual attire. Nobody in class was sure that they’d ever even seen him without layers of eyeliner, piercings, and jewelry all over him. Over by Kirishima’s desk, Denki practically swooned.

“Dude, you’re literally drooling on my desk,” Kirishima had a concerned yet slightly aggravated look on his face.

“Yeah, Denki, it’s starting to get annoying. Just watching you pine all day,” Mina chimed in, “He’s basically all you ever talk about.”

The blonde boy opened his mouth to retort when he noticed Y/N had turned back to look at him. The h/c boy smiled brightly at him and all Kaminari could do was just wave back with a dopey grin on his face.

In all honesty, when he first saw Y/N, Denki wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to smile like that. The way he dressed was a little intimidating at first, but once you got to know him, Y/N was actually a very warm person.

Mina sighed before turning to Kiri, having an idea. She whispered something in the redhead’s ear before turning back to Denki.

“Listen, bud, Kiri and I would bet you ten bucks each that you can’t confess tonight.” Ten bucks was a small price to pay to get their friend to stop whining to them about how soft Y/N’s hair looked all the time.

Denki looked hesitant at first before replying.

“Make it twenty and I’m in.”

+++

Denki had been putting it off all day. At first, he was planning on telling him at lunch, but he chickened out when he noticed Y/N was wearing headphones. He didn’t want to disturb him after all.

Then he decided that right after classes ended would be smart. But when he noticed his crush was talking to his friend Shinso from class 1-C. There was no way he was going to embarrass himself like that in front of another human being. Especially not one of Y/N’s best friends.

Later that night, he sat in his dorm playing Mario Kart with Mina and Kirishima. Denki was about to win when Mina hit him with a red shell, rushing past him.

“BOOYAH, BABY!” she yelled, nearly knocking over her drink in her excitement. Denki grumbled and Kirishima just sat on the back of the couch eating popcorn peacefully.

“You don’t have to be such a sore winner…”

“Says the loser!”

“Guys, we’re forgetting the important thing here…” interrupted Kiri, turning to Denki, “have you asked out Y/N yet?”

The electric boy froze in place.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Mina said, “remember, if you don’t do it you’ll owe us a total of fort dollars!”

Kaminari groaned.

“Why did I agree to this, again?”

+++

It took Kaminari about 20 minutes to knock once he reached Y/N’s dorm.

“Who is it?” came a groggy voice.

Denki’s mouth dried up, and he contemplated running away but it was too late, the door was already opening up.

“Oh, hey Denki!”

There he stood, in a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old, baggy sweatshirt. Y/N wasn’t wearing any eyeliner and all of his piercing had been taken out minus his septum, which he had only gotten done recently. Denki had to blink a few times at the sight. He was pretty sure no one had ever seen the other boy like this before, except maybe for the exception of family.

“I, uh, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” the blonde stuttered out.

“Oh, no worries! I was just watching a show when you knocked.”

Sure enough, his laptop was on the bed with an episode of (favorite show) pulled up on pause. Seeing Denki’s worried face he reassured him.

“I’ve already seen this one so you didn’t interrupt anything!”

He gestured for Kaminari to come in.

Y/N’s room was atmospheric. Band posters were pasted crookedly to the walls, strings of lights dimly lighting the room. Denki noticed some band tickets and pictures of your friends from middle school hanging on the walls. A few potted plants were scattered here and there, all well taken care of, it looked like. Denki took a seat on a bean bag chair next to Y/N, who was sat on the carpet next to him.

“What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

Denki choked up.

“Well, uh, uhm…” he tried to find the right words to say. “You see, I kind of, uh… oh fuck.”

Y/N stared back at him, confused but not aggravated by his stumbling in any way.

Denki looked back up at the boy’s e/c eyes. Seeing them so clearly, without any eyeliner or makeup hiding his face. He could see every line, every crevice, every dot on his face. It was perfect. He managed to summon up the last of his courage and blurt it out.

“I REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU! LIKE, NOT IN A FRIEND WAY, IN A ‘I WANNA MAKE OUT WITH YOU REAL BAD’ WAY!” His face was burning red at this point. Y/N just stared back blankly for a second.

“Wait… really?” Denki looked astonished.

“Wha… are you kidding me? I thought I was totally obvious about it! I mean, literally everyone in class noticed but you didn’t??? I flirted with you so much I was starting to run out of pick up lines!”

“Yo, those were supposed to be pick up lines? Like, no offense dude but they sucked,” Y/N chuckled.

“Hey, they did no-” Denki cut himself off, “Listen, do you like me too or not?”

Y/N looked puzzled for a second.

“OH, wait I thought it was obvious? I mean, I like you too. Practically the entire classroom could tell.”

“Wait… WHAT?” Denki was definitely going to yell at Kirishima and Mina about this later. At least he got forty bucks out of ‘em.

+++

Denki had ended up falling asleep in Y/N’s dorm that night while playing some video games together. When Kiri and Mina noticed the two boys walking into class the next morning hand-in-hand, with Denki wearing some of Y/N’s eyeliner (They knew Y/N had done it too, because it was way too good for Denki to have done it), they were relieved and, of course, happy for their friend but maybe not so happy about the idea of losing twenty dollars each. At least they wouldn’t have to listen to their friend’s incessant pining anymore.

“Guys! My boyfriend is so cool…”

Kiri and Mina just slumped back down in their chairs, tuning out Denki gushing about his crush boyfriend.

#denki kaminari x male reader #denki x male reader #kaminari x male reader #kaminari denki x male reader #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #male reader #denki x reader #denki x you #one shot

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arroelin · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you do the same request for different characters, but if you do, can I request the same headcanons for Oikawa, Hinata and Kageyama falling for the introverted reader after she comforts them after a loss please?

— crushing on someone who comforted them after a loss part 2

characters: oikawa tooru, kageyama tobio, hinata shoyo (x gn!reader)

genre: fluff

wc: 1000+

<i’m still not too good at writing introvert!reader, so i hope this is okay. n e ways,,, TYSM for requesting💗!!>

part 1

OIKAWA’s at the infirmary with his head in his hands, the incident prior to this moment replaying in his head. he remembers the sudden jolt of pain in his knee after landing awkwardly from a set, and the deafening silence in the gym as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground.

“how’re you feeling?”

your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he raises his head. another one of his fans?

oikawa narrows his eyes. “i don’t need you to comfort me,” he mutters sharply.

“i-i just help the nurse,” you stammer, taken aback by his harsh answer.

his eyes widen, “i’m sorry, i didn’t realize.”

muttering a small “s’okay,” you carefully sit in the seat beside him. and you ask him questions- ones you were trained to ask.

you study him from the corner of your eye as you jot down his responses. you aren’t used to striking up conversations with strangers, but seeing the pain through his hardened expression- one not owing to his injury- you couldn't help but speak.

“they don’t blame you-” your voice breaks the silence in the room. “your team.”

oikawa chuckles humorlessly, “maybe they should.”

you frown, “they’re probably all blaming themselves for your injury.” your words were honest, unwavering, “so when you leave here, you better go talk to them.”

oikawa’s mouth snaps shut. maybe it’s the way you scolded him or maybe it was simply just a reality check, but there was just something about your words that made him feel better.

“sorry,” you mumble softly. “but the nurse is ready for you now.”

“thanks,” he offers you a small smile, before pushing himself up from the chair.

he stumbles, and you reach out to grab his arm, grunting slightly under his weight. your eyes don’t meet his, and for some reason, that irritates him.

oikawa knows he probably looks pretty pathetic right now, but he wants to talk to you again, so he plasters a grin on his face before asking, “after they fix me up, can i treat you to lunch as an apology?”

with his head down, KAGEYAMA strides hastily down the empty hallway. he needs to get away from the gym- anything to drown out the deafening cheers of the opposing team.

it’s almost for the same reason that you’re strolling through the same quiet hallway. with your eyes buried in your phone, there was no way you could’ve seen him, and it had been the strong nudge of his shoulders against yours- almost knocking you back- that snapped your head up.

“sorry!” you look up, and your eyes widen at the tall figure gazing back at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” he stammers.

kageyama looks around at the unfamiliar rooms, before his eyes return to you once again.

“d-do you know how to get to the gym?” he asks meekly, and he curses inwardly for running away in the first place.

you gape at him before chuckling softly at his cluelessness, “i can walk you back, if you want.”

he nods- almost desperately- before falling into step beside you.

you weren’t a fan of small-talk, but seeing him tapping his fingers nervously against his leg from the corner of your eye, and feeling his eyes darting to you occasionally, you decided to pity him.

“i watched your game,” you tilt your head to face him. seeing his surprise, you admit sheepishly, “well, a little bit of it.”

kageyama feels his shoulders tense up- that probably means you knew his team had lost- and badly, at that- so he braces himself for your criticism.

you twist your lips- trying to think of the right words to say to him. “you know, watching you on the court, i was blown away,” you mumble, and feeling him relax beside you, you smile, “i can’t wait to watch you play again!”

“t-thanks,” he splutters, before looking away, feeling his face heat up embarrassingly.

arriving before the gym doors, he hesitates, because even though he doesn’t even know your name, kageyama feels oddly comfortable in your presence. he peeks at you nervously, because maybe, you’ll let him stay with you just a little longer.

“hey, are you alright?”

HINATA’s head snaps up, and his eyes widen in surprise when they meet yours. he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to you- after all, you mostly kept to yourself- but he recognizes you. whipping his head to look around the room, he realizes that the two of you were alone.

“um, class is over,” you say slowly, eyebrows scrunching slightly in concern at how lost he looks.

hinata shakes his head wildly to clear his mind before giving you a small smile, “sorry, i’m just a little distracted.”

you sigh as you slide into the seat of the desk in front of his, mumbling awkwardly, “i don’t blame you- i heard about the tournament.”

“it’s so unfair, i just want to keep playing,” he frowns- words laced with frustration.

“well aren’t you going to?”

“huh?”

seeing his confused expression, you swallow nervously, “keep playing, that is.”

hinata jumps out of his seat, startling you. “of course i am!” he exclaims loudly.

“then just win the next game.”

your voice is soft- at least compared to his- but your words were nevertheless genuine.

“sorry, i know it’s easier said than done...” you begin, but your words trail off when you catch the glint of determination in his eyes.

“hey, maybe you can help me practice sometime!” he blurts, leaning closer towards you expectantly.

hinata was always one to jump at new opportunities without the need to think twice. and maybe now, he’s jumping at the opportunity to prove you right- to show you that he can win the next game, or maybe, he’s jumping at the opportunity to talk to you again.

“s-sure” you stammer, shrinking slightly under his pleading gaze.

“oh, and thanks!” he says- and this time, his words are softer.

you look up at him, tilting your head in confusion, “for what?”

he shrugs before grinning widely- it was contagious- “i guess, just for chatting with me!”

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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years

Text

I’m not posting a tag list for this part because it’s late and I’m exhausted and wanna get it out for you guys. If it does poorly I’ll go back and tag but right now I’m just very over tag lists. Follow the “#hqoe f&f” tag or “falsehoods & fistfights” or “Hqoe writes” tags to more closely follow my work. You can also follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites and turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of my writing! I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m doing it to save time and frustration when the tagging system fails (as it often does)

Hugest shoutout in the world to @punkassbookjockey26 for being the best beta in the entire world. She helped so much with this update!! Give her a pat on the back.

Part One // Masterlist

Rowaelin // 5681 words

~*~

For the last several hours, the clatter of her clicking keyboard and the flipping of pages had been on a continuous loop. At some point, Aelin had opened Spotify and forgotten to turn on any music, clearly content to keep to her rigorous work pace in near-silence. The door to her office was closed, and no one had stopped by to bother her since she’d arrived. Only a handful of phone calls had disrupted her this morning, which meant she had gotten plenty of work done.

Except that it wasn’t morning at all— it was two in the afternoon, and she couldn’t quite figure out how the hell that had happened. She was still squinting at the time on her computer screen when a firm knock sounded at the door, and she called out, “Yes?”

“Have you eaten today?” At the sound of Rowan’s voice, Aelin’s head whipped toward the door. She was unable to stop the smile that spread wide across her face or stop herself rising from her chair to meet him. Aelin perched against her desk, accepting the brown paper bag he held in his hands. No, she hadn’t eaten, not since her half a bagel and cup of coffee before she arrived at work. She’d left a banana in her car for a snack but hadn’t wanted to run back down for it.

“Barely. I didn’t even realize it was past lunch,” Aelin sighed, looking back up at his face. Rowan was grinning down at her as she tore a bite of croissant off and popped it into her mouth. The man looked criminally good, wearing jeans that hugged his legs in all the right places and a white button-up shirt. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and her eyes lingered on his tattoo that swirled down to his fingertips.

“Can I kiss you in here?” His question caught her off guard, a laugh bursting from her lips. “Because this whole…” Rowan gestured to her outfit. “It’s really doing it for me.”

“You like librarian Aelin?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers. The get-up he referred to was a pinstriped pencil skirt that hit just above her knees and patent black stiletto heels that had her only a few inches shorter than him. She had a red tank top tucked into the skirt and, at some point, had discarded her white cardigan over the back of her office chair. Her lips matched her shirt in a bright, matte, red lipstick that she’d neglected to touch up throughout the day. Still, when Rowan pulled away, his mouth was tinged with the outline of hers. “I like this a lot. Fuck.”

“For the record, you can kiss me anywhere you want to,” she told him. “Especially in my office, especially when the door is closed.”

“Noted.” Rowan tugged on her high ponytail before sinking into one of the leather armchairs in front of her. Aelin continued to munch on the variety of pastries he’d brought for her while his eyes seemed to be glued to her legs. Aelin wondered if he was thinking about laying her out on this desk and having his way with her here, but she also knew he wouldn’t let that be their first time. No matter how badly she wanted it to be.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Whitethorn?” She asked, nudging his thigh with the toe of her shoe. The way he raked his teeth over his bottom lip before looking up at her told her that, yes, he was thinking what she was thinking. The way he quirked his brow at her also told her that, no, it wasn’t going to happen.

They were kind of dating, in the sense that they had been on a handful of dates. They had shared many heated kisses against the door to her apartment when he dropped her off, but he was being such a godsdamn gentleman about all of it that they hadn’t had sex yet. Aelin would have fucked him in the bathroom of the bar that first night, and they both knew it. But something was holding him back. To be fair, she couldn’t place all of the blame on him. She was holding back as well. Whatever this was between them felt like something that could be extraordinary, and she didn’t want to be the one that fucked it all up because she couldn’t keep it in her pants.

“I have a fight on Saturday, and I was really hoping you would want to come. Obviously, I would give you tickets, plus however many extra you want to bring whoever.”

“Just Aedion, I think.” Her cousin would likely die to be personally invited to one of Rowan Whitethorn’s fights, the same way Aelin knew he’d been having a bit of a mental breakdown when he found Aelin with him at the bar.

“Not your friends’ cup of tea?” He teased with a grin.

“Not even really mine, but you get like, almost naked for these things, yeah?” Rowan’s head tilted back as he laughed, reaching out to catch her fingers between his own. He squeezed them, shaking his head at her. “I’m just saying, any female fans you have are not because they want to watch you fight. I Googled you.”

“Of course you did.”

“And if coming on Saturday,” she paused, fighting the twitch of her lips at the innuendo, “is what gets me to see you sweaty and naked, I will be there.”

“Apparently, you can find that on Google also.” Aelin started to jerk her hand from his, but he laughed again and tugged forcefully enough that she dropped into his lap, his arms settling around her hips.

They didn’t have sex on her desk by the time he left, but he did have a trail of lipstick down his neck and red smudges on his collar.

~*~

There had only been a few times where Aelin had seen Aedion this excited. He was practically jumping out of his skin, trying and failing to keep his wide grin at bay. The whole way there, he’d talked about Rowan’s stats and how likely it was for him to win this fight. Apparently, it was very likely, and according to Aedion, if anyone bet against Rowan in the gambling pools, they were going to lose a lot of money.

This version of Aedion was almost completely opposite the one that had shown up an hour late to the bar a few weeks ago, only to find Aelin perched in his personal hero’s lap.

By the time Aelin spotted a familiar head of golden blonde hair making his way through the crowd, Rowan had stayed true to his promise. He’d bought her not one but two drinks, and she had a very happy buzz flowing through her.

“Aedion!” She hadn’t bothered to get out of Rowan’s lap; she liked the way his hand felt on her thigh, the other twirling a piece of hair around his finger while he talked to the tall, broody one— Lorcan.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay; I made friends! And a fiancé!” Rowan laughed then, sticking his hand out for Aedion to shake.

“I’m the fiancé. Rowan Whitethorn. You must be the cousin she’s been waiting on.”

“I got held up at work. Aedion Ashryver, nice to meet you.” Despite the cool and collected exterior Aedion was giving off, Aelin knew without a doubt that he was dying inside. She spent several nights curled up on his couch while Aedion and his friends watched Rowan’s fights, though she’d never cared enough to pay attention. Usually, she disappeared to his guest room to read a book or snuck out after an acceptable amount of time to hang out with her own friends.

Aelin had heard about Rowan’s victories time and time again. When Aedion showed her different self-defense moves, he would say that Rowan Whitethorn took someone down with the same simple maneuver. To say that he admired Rowan would be an understatement. He damn near idolized him.

“Nice to meet you? That’s what you’re going with?” Aelin asked, mouth dropping open as everything Aedion had ever said about the man beneath her flooded her memory. Aelin looked at Rowan, shaking her head and pointing at her cousin. “All I ever hear about when you have a fight coming up is ‘Rowan Whitethorn this’ and ‘Rowan Whitethorn that.’ Yet now he’s here, and all he says is nice to meet you. Unbelievable.”

“Rowan doesn’t look like someone who particularly cares for fan service. Though if I’m wrong, correct me, and I will rectify that immediately. On my knees even, if he decides he’s interested in men at all.”

Aelin’s lips dipped into a drunk pout as she said, “I saw him first.”

“Technically, I saw you first,” Rowan interjected, a teasing tone in his voice. “And you rejected me.” A wrinkle appeared between her brows as she looked up at Rowan’s handsome face, disliking that she was already being ganged up on.

“I’m sorry— you rejected him?” Aedion sputtered in disbelief. Aelin flicked Rowan’s nose, and just like that, they settled into an easy banter that tugged on Aelin’s heart entirely too much.

Now, though, Aedion seemed to be nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement. At will-call, they’d learned Rowan had set aside special floor seating just for them. When they walked into the arena, Aelin was pleased to see Rowan’s group of friends from the bar. She’d spent the most time with Fenrys than anyone else, and he welcomed her with a big hug, insisting she sit beside him instead of Lorcan. Aelin was more than happy to oblige, as Lorcan didn’t seem to have a taste for her. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

They settled into their seats, Aelin sitting between Fenrys and Aedion, both of whom had skipped the pleasantries and moved right into a conversation about the upcoming fight. Aelin leaned back into her chair and took in the surroundings. There were bits and pieces she remembered from her time barely watching matches with Aedion, but it was still different than what she expected. There was a large octagonal ring in the center of the room surrounded by black fencing that had to be about six feet tall. She wondered briefly if the fence was to keep people out or to keep the fighters in.

People were milling about, but Aelin realized that the arena itself was three levels high, and seats were piled around the room from floor to ceiling. There had to be thousands of them, and from the look of the crowds filing in, there wasn’t going to be an empty spot in the house. She hadn’t realized that MMA had such a following.

After about twenty minutes, the lights dimmed and the booming voice of the announcer filled the arena. People cheered wildly as the introductions for the fight were made and the sponsors were thanked. And finally, Aeling knew it was time. The announcer over-dramaticized the entrance for the first fighter and Aelin watched as a lean-muscled man walked up to the ring. He entered through a gate on the side, and people cheered as he made his rounds. Aelin sat on the edge of her seat for the announcer to start his next introduction, ready to see Rowan walking through the tunnel, when a different name was announced and a different man came strolling out. The confusion must have been all over her face when she looked at Aedion because he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Rowan is the main event,” he said. “Which means there are a few fights before his.”

“Seriously? You mean I have to wait?” Aedion nodded and her scowl deepened. “How long?”

“Looking at the schedule, Rowan’s fight is slated to start in about two hours.”

“Two hours?! I have to wait two hours!?”

“Come on, Ace. It won’t be that bad. Just try to enjoy it.” Aedion turned away and was immediately drawn into the fight that had begun in the ring just a few feet in front of her. Aelin pouted, remembering all the reasons why she never stuck around to watch these matches with Aedion previously.

“All I wanted was to see Rowan sweaty and half-naked. I literally don’t care about anyone else,” she grumbled, mostly to herself. Beside her, Fenrys chuckled and threw his arm around the back of her seat as she settled back. Aelin frowned down at her phone, opening Snapchat to get a quick photo of her expression, which she promptly sent to Rowan.

It took him a good ten minutes to reply back to her, and it seemed he knew why she was pouting because the text across his photo simply said be patient.

After that, she didn’t want to bother him, and whatever pre-match rituals he may have, so she settled for scrolling through various social media apps to bide her time. When she found herself restless, she gave in and opened her book app to continue reading a romance novel she’d started the day before. The male love interest may have been a boxer and may have been incredibly sexy, and she may have downloaded it after searching for fighting-related books.

She had just reached a particularly steamy part of the book when she felt Aedion nudge her arm. Godsdamn him, the leading male was just about to give the girl the orgasm of her life when he’d interrupted. Aelin scowled up at her cousin, but the expression morphed into one of incredulity and excitement when she heard Rowan’s name announced, and he walked out into the arena.

Aelin immediately perked up in her seat, sliding her phone between her thigh and the chair. Rowan strolled out like a king surveying his kingdom, and the cheers were deafening. He wore absolutely nothing but a pair of forest green athletic shorts that left little to the imagination and some sort of fist guards over his hands. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he jogged up to the ring and hoisted himself up over the side with practiced ease. There was a very dramatic introduction, one that had the entire crowd screaming and getting to their feet. Aelin couldn’t help but join them, giving a standing ovation to the man she’d spent so many stolen hours with lately. Beside her, Aedion was absolutely losing it. It only made her smile more.

Even as the arena quieted while the referee explained the rules, nobody returned to their seats. Everyone stayed on their feet, and Aelin could understand why. Once the fight started and the hits and kicks started to get thrown around, she found herself filled with a restless energy that she couldn’t push down. Every time his opponent’s fist swung toward him, her heart began to beat frantically in her chest.

But Rowan ducked and dipped out of reach almost every time. The way the muscles of his arms and legs rippled every time he took a swing at the other man, Cairn, her mouth went dry. She hadn’t walked into the arena tonight expecting to find anything about the fight beautiful, but it was. The way that Rowan’s body moved was like watching a dance unfold before her. Every swing of his arm or swift kick of his leg sending her heart racing just like it had when she’d watched ballets growing up. It felt like such a bizarre comparison to make, but Rowan Whitethorn’s body was nothing short of a work of art.

But there was also a ferocity in it. Where ballet was soft and demure, Rowan was a force of nature. His face was hewn from stone, each strike with his hands or legs precise and controlled, but with an element of chaos surrounding it. He unleashed himself on Cairn, throwing punches and kicks swiftly, so quick that Aelin could not keep up with where the next one was going to land. With brutal efficiency, Rowan managed to get past Cairn’s guard to deliver several painful-looking blows in quick succession that had the crowd collectively wincing. It seemed that Aedion’s idolization hadn’t been misplaced.

Rowan breathed heavily, sweat dripping down every inch of his torso. His abdominals flexed with every exhale, showing off every hard line and sharp curve. The tattoo that swirled down his left side glistened under the bright lights of the arena. He looked like a god, and Aelin discovered that she found it quite difficult to keep her mind from falling off into the gutter when he looked like that.

When he made the final blow, a hit to Cairn’s face that had him unconscious before he even hit the floor, Aelin was surprised by how wholly turned on she was. He dominated the fight and looked damn good while doing it. Rowan was announced as the winner, fierce triumph written all over his face as the crowd completely lost their minds. Pride swelled in her stomach, and she couldn’t help her wide smile as she cheered along with the thousands of people in the arena. Even though it was televised, it felt special when he made eye contact with her and grinned before exiting the ring and heading her way.

Of course, he was intercepted about a dozen different times by dozens of different people offering their congratulations. When he finally got to her, he dipped down and hugged her tightly to his chest, pulling her feet off the ground. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of her clothing, scorching her skin. The smell of him, a musky scent of sweat and the pine body wash she had come to associate with him assaulted her nose and she breathed him in deep. She felt the want ratcheting up in the most delicious way and knew that she would no longer be content with a night of only being pressed against her apartment door. Their kisses, no matter how desperate they had been, wouldn’t be enough to sate the need she felt for him. She needed all of him, and she needed him as raw and unrestrained as he had been during that fight. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as her feet met the floor, and he stepped back.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“You were amazing.” Amazing didn’t quite cover it, but it was the only word she could think of that came anywhere close.

“Does that mean you’ll come out with me tonight? To celebrate?” She wanted to say yes immediately. But with him in front of her, covered in sweat and looking like the only thing she wanted her mouth to touch for the foreseeable future, Aelin shook her head as her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. The disappointment began to cloud his handsome face, but she shook her head faster as though it would dispel his negative thoughts.

“I was kind of hoping I could steal you away. Celebrate with you alone.” Her voice was low and sultry, and she almost laughed because she could see him calculating just what that meant. The two of them. A celebration. Entirely alone, with no one else around.

“I— yeah. Yes. We can— yes. I have to wrap up here and then we can go to my place?” At all of his stuttering, she couldn’t help the bright laughter that bubbled out of her as the usually confident man in front of her stumbled a bit. His attention was drawn away temporarily when Aedion clapped Rowan on the shoulder and began to spew his admiration and congratulations. Rowan took it with grace, thanking him for coming while trying to keep his eyes off Aelin’s face. The way she bit her lip clearly wasn’t helping because his eyes kept dropping down to her mouth.

When a member of his team told him he needed to hurry— he had a short press conference post-fight and still wanted to shower before— Rowan dropped a chaste kiss to her lips and headed back to the locker room.

Aelin waited not-so-patiently, standing on the outside of Rowan’s group of friends in the parking lot while they talked. Aedion fit right in, pointing out the highlights of the fight with renewed vigor. He still seemed to be riding the adrenaline high from watching Rowan fight , and Aelin was sure he would implement something of what they saw into her self defense training.

When Rowan finally came out, they all cheered and shoved him around their little circle in celebration. He was grinning from ear to ear as he reached for Aelin and pulled her into his side, dropping a kiss to her hair. It was impossible to stop the tug she felt in her stomach, something between excitement and nerves. Everything inside seemed to be tied up in delicious knots as she leaned into him, enveloped by the scent of his body wash, the smell of pine equal parts comforting and arousing. “Where are we going tonight?” Fenrys drawled, throwing his arm around Vaughan. The quiet, dark-haired man tried to shrug out of it, but it only ended with him in a headlock.

“I will actually be stealing him away,” Aelin said before Rowan could even get a word in. Rowan’s hold on her shoulder tightened as he squeezed, and she squeezed him back where she had her arm around his waist, secretly thrilled that he was as on board with this plan as she was. His friends groaned in protest but Aelin and Rowan laughed. Lorcan looked particularly displaced about the revelation and was the first to step backward out of the circle and bid farewell. It didn’t take long for the others to follow and for Aelin to lace her fingers through Rowan’s and tug him toward his car.

While their pace could be described as leisurely, Aelin felt anything but. Now alone, she felt that want from earlier return with a vengeance. Rowan squeezed her hand, and her mind immediately wandered to those strong hands touching elsewhere, all over. A quick glance up at him left her reeling when she caught his gaze on her, and swore she saw every dirty thought that crossed his mind. It excited her, knowing that despite his cool, calm exterior wrapped around all of that cockiness, Rowan Whitethorn was just as affected as she was by what was to come.

When they arrived at his car, a sleek, black sports car that was perfectly him, Rowan opened the passenger door for her, ushering her in. Aelin turned her head towards him, and under the parking lot lights, she could see where Rowan had taken a bit of a beating.

Ducking inside the car, Aelin turned to look at Rowan, her thumb coming to brush over a bruise that was forming on his cheek. It was already a blue-purple color, indicating that it would only look worse over the next few days. Luckily he hadn’t taken too many hits, so this seemed to be the worst of his injuries. There was one other place near his temple that had drawn a little bit of blood but it was already on the mend, cleaned by the medics backstage.

“I’m okay,” he reassured her, his hand coming over to rest on her thigh. Aelin pulled hers away, startled by the softness in his voice. Her eyes searched Rowan’s for the lie that he was more hurt than he let on, but she saw nothing. She supposed it should have comforted her that Rowan knew what his limits were, but still, it seemed crazy that this man before her was the same one that had attacked Cairn in the ring and ended the fight in the first round.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice echoing the softness of his own.

“You just saw me get pummeled a few times and you’re worried about hurting me?” His voice dripped with disbelief, remnants of a laugh bubbling out. Aelin shrugged, cheeks stained a rosy blush.

“I don’t want to accidentally push on places that hurt.”

“I can assure you that anything you inflict upon me will be the sweetest kind of pain,” he promised, lacing his fingers with hers and bringing them to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles as he started the car and drove out of the dimly lit parking lot. Those knots in her stomach unspooled themselves into liquid heat as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. “Don’t do that.”

His voice was rough with want, and it scraped over her, leaving small goosebumps on her skin. She shivered in anticipation, and ached to hear more in that deep, rumbling timbre. Reaching out a hand, she coyly ran her fingers slowly, softly up the taut skin of his arm. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip like that when I can’t kiss you.”

“If you drove faster, you would be able to kiss me,” Aelin teased, leaning over the center console to press a lingering kiss to his shoulder. Rowan’s knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel, glancing over at her as the car rolled to a stop at a red light. Soaking up the opportunity they’d graciously been given by the gods, he deftly captured her chin and crushed his lips against hers, kissing her in a way that stoked the smoldering want inside her into an inferno. She felt the sinful slide of his tongue brushing against hers, of his teeth tugging over her bottom lip like he wanted to take a bite out of her. Aelin hoped that he would.

When he pulled away, Aelin’s eyes stayed closed, her lips stayed parted. A shaky breath tumbled from them, filling the tense silence in the car. It took everything in her to sit back in her seat and let him drive. If she were to do what she truly wanted to do, she would have him pull over and climb with him into the backseat, his apartment and privacy be damned.

Aelin wasn’t so sure that Rowan would stop her if she tried to coax him into it. How they had managed to go this long without tearing each other’s clothes off was a mystery to her. As she looked over at him, her eyes lingered on those strong hands gripping the steering wheel, hands that she wanted gripping her in the same way. She desperately wanted to have his fingerprints bruised into her thighs, to see the imprints of his teeth all over her chest. The idea of his back being covered with the marks of her nails only fed that growing fire within her.

The drive seemed to take an eternity, consisting of stolen kisses at stop signs and longing looks. It was hard to keep her hands to herself, and that seemed to be the case for Rowan, too. By the time they reached his apartment, his hand had drifted so high up her thigh that it was burning a hole straight through her jeans.

Rowan held her hand loosely while they walked inside the building and to the elevator. As soon as the metal doors slid shut, however, he was tugging her toward him and pressing her back against the wall. His hands slid from her hands to her waist, dropping down to her thighs to lift her up on the railing. Aelin couldn’t help the moan that she breathed into his mouth, her fingers twining into his hair while he tugged at her lip.

When the elevator dinged on his floor, Rowan was dragging hot kisses down her throat. It seemed to be too much for him because he had to take a moment before he pulled away. Rowan’s mouth stayed against her neck while he caught his breath causing goosebumps to rise all over her skin. The doors were beginning to close again when he finally pulled away and shoved his hand out to stop them.

Aelin laughed then, sliding down from the railing and tugging him down the hall toward his apartment. At the door Rowan fumbled with his keys, pressing kisses to the side of her neck as the lock tumbled and gained them entrance.

Any restraint he had left seemed to dissipate as soon as the door was shut and locked. Once again her feet left the floor as he carried her to his room and laid her down on his bed. Their kisses were hungry, starving as he lifted her shirt and tossed it onto the floor. His hands made quick work of the rest of her clothing, and before long they were just skin on skin, his mouth drifting lower and lower down her body.

All of it was pure ecstasy, almost too much for her to handle. It didn’t take long before she fractured beneath his mouth, her nails digging into his back, scratching desperately over his skin as he moved back up her torso to press his lips against hers.

When he pulled back to look at her, something had shifted. Gone were the frantic kisses, replaced by deeper ones that stole her breath from her lungs. An impossible feeling was tugging at her heart as their bodies moved together beneath the sheets. This time when she fell over the edge, Rowan went with her. Their bodies were so tangled it was hard for her to think clearly enough about where he started and she ended. Their gasping moans were a harmony she wouldn’t soon forget as he collapsed on top of her.

Aelin’s heel pushed down the strong muscles of his thigh, his calves, silently begging him not to move. His lips ignited sparks over her collarbones as he settled atop her while her fingers ran softly up and down his sides.

Eventually Rowan rolled off of her, and she would have frowned had he not tugged her into his side a heartbeat later. Aelin draped her leg over his waist and nuzzled her face against his chest, pressing a single kiss over his heart.

The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his hands in her hair and his low humming of a forgotten melody as she drifted off into a blissful sleep.

~*~

Soft kisses were being dropped over her bare back, leaving a trail up and down her spine. Aelin hummed in approval as a grin spread across her face. Her eyes were still closed, ignoring the rays of sunshine that were likely illuminating her face, when Rowan pressed a kiss to her cheek and the corner of her mouth.

“Good morning,” she said hoarsely, her lack of voice another reminder of everything that had transpired last night. She had woken Rowan a handful of hours after their first time, rolling on top of him and placing teasing kisses over his neck and chest until his calloused hands guided her into position. That time, Aelin had been control, her hands gripping the headboard through wave after wave of pleasure. There was an ache between her legs that made her want to beg Rowan to touch her despite how exhausted she was.

“Hi, baby.”

Aelin’s smile widened as she rolled onto his back and looped her arms loosely around his neck. Rowan kissed her properly then, long and slow until she was sure they were going to go for a third round in under twelve hours.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, fingers brushing her hair back from her face. Aelin wanted to snort in response, knowing last nights makeup was likely smeared around her eyes and she reeked of sex and sweat. But there was such reverence in his tone that she couldn’t bring herself to disagree, his green eyes bright in the morning sun as they traced over every feature of her face. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her hand moved from his neck to the side of his face, thumb brushing lightly over the bruise that marred his skin.

“You saw me fight. You watched me beat the hell out of someone and you didn’t turn and run. You didn’t balk. You still wanted me.”

Aelin was positive the confusion was written all over her face from the downturn of her lips to her furrowed brow, but still she said, “Has that been a problem before?”

“Yes.” Rowan pressed a series of kisses over her face starting at her temple and ending at her jaw.

“It’s not a problem for me,” she promised, voice barely a whisper against his cheek. Rowan was quiet for a moment, turning his face to look at her. “You’re a fighter. That’s what you are. I wouldn’t want you to be anything but what you are.”

A mix of emotions fluttered across his face, whatever he felt being a catalyst for kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, nose, and finally her lips. When he pulled back, he looked hesitant and unsure. It was the first time Aelin had ever seen him like that and it felt raw. Like he was exposing a part of himself he seldom did. She was ready to ask him what was going on when he kissed her so thoroughly she’d nearly forgotten the conversation at hand.

“What if I wanted to be something else?” Rowan gazed down at her, teeth grazing over his bottom lip. Again, she swore she saw uncertainty on his face and in his tone as the question rushed out in a single breath.

“Like what?”

“Like your boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help the joyful laughter that bubbled up and out like champagne. Rowan grinned too, so widely that his dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her thumbs ran over them as she kissed him, both of their smiles making it almost difficult. It was too cute, the way he’d seemed almost nervous and bashful in his delivery. It felt like high school all over again in the most innocent way.

“You can be that, too.”

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