#my plan is to do some silly family fluff with traditions for every day of hanukkah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

axolotlsupremacyowo · 2 years

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Momo’s Ace Attorney Flufftober

Welcome to my Flufftober collection!

Hi! Welcome to my Flufftober collection! I decided to do @flufftober this year, so I can help in improving my writing work ethic. I’m sure the deadline will kick my butt into finally actually writing something. I was originally going to do Whumptober cause I thought it was the only October prompt list that wasn’t Kinktober, but then I discovered Flufftober and immediately fell in love. I love fluff, it’s so cute and sweet. So, an entire month of basically writing fluff? I’m in heaven!

I’ll be writing mostly ships, but there will be platonic and familial stuff here too. Some of the chapters have plots, and some of them don’t, it all depends on the prompt to be honest. I’ll try to keep my chapters over 1k words but under 10k words, though there is a chance I might go over or under those words. I’ll also be a lot less prosey in these entries, so sorry if that bothers you!

I’ll be editing this post as I add more chapters, linking them here so you can go to a specific chapter that you want to read. I’ll include the prompt, the ship, and the summary of every day. So it’ll be easier to navigate through this collection. You can skip a certain chapter if you want! I don’t mind!

Well, that’s all I have to say, I hope you enjoy this collection!

The prompts of each day

Day 1

Prompt: Wearing Each Other’s Clothes

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

After Apollo and Klavier lose an eating competition to Trucy, they now owe a dare to Trucy. Trucy at first has no ideas, but a talk with her father suddenly gives her the perfect idea. So Trucy dares Apollo and Klavier to switch clothes on the day of an important trial. Apollo hates it, and Klavier loves it.

Day 2

Prompt: “You’ve told your parents?”

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Phoenix has told his parents about their new relationship, much to the dismay of Edgeworth. When Phoenix tells him that his parents invited them to go to dinner together, He almost faints on the spot. With the help of Franziska (and an earpiece), Edgeworth tackles the worst nightmare of every boyfriend…meeting the parents.

Day 3

Prompt: Caught in the Rain

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Franziska wants to plan the perfect romantic date for their anniversary, and so she does. Franziska plans every detail, from the restaurant to the earrings that she wears. However, her plans are ruined when it rains, forcing them to eat inside the restaurant, and not on the terrace like she had planned. Maya doesn’t seem to mind, though.

Day 4

Prompt: Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Franziska did not understand cosplay, she thought it was playing dress up but with extra steps. So when Maya gets into the hobby of cosplay, Franziska is very much confused. Maya ropes Franziska into her cosplaying shenanigans, making her take pictures of Maya’s cosplays, helping Maya with makeup, and even doing her hair. Franziska doesn’t understand, but remains supportive.

Day 5

Prompt: “Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!”

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Apollo and Klavier start living together, and it’s…nice. Klavier likes it, it’s nice to sleep next to the person that he loves, cuddling with them as he drifts into the peaceful realm of slumber. However, Klavier finds out that Apollo is a morning person. It’s slightly inconvenient, but Klavier learns to live with it.

Day 6

Prompt: Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Mia never had a traditional Khura’inese funeral, something that has bothered Franziska ever since Maya has brought it up. So, on the anniversary of Mia’s death, Franziska decides to honor Mia’s death in the Khura’inese way to the best of her abilities. She has no idea what she’s doing, but Maya appreciates it.

Day 7

Prompt: Movie Marathon

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Maya loved the Steel Samurai Franchise, she was obsessed with everything Steel Samurai. Despite being her girlfriend, Franziska has never watched Steel Samurai. Upon finding this out, Maya immediately starts planning a Steel Samurai movie marathon for the two. Franziska reluctantly agrees, but at some point she starts to have fun. Not that she’d ever admit that, though.

Day 8

Prompt: Shooting Stars

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Phoenix takes Edgeworth, Apollo, and Trucy out camping in the woods. With Trucy’s excitement over getting lost “living in the wild”, Apollo’s fears of anything creepy and crawling, and Edgeworth’s overpreparing and constant complaints, it ends up being a disaster. Though, watching the starry night with Edgeworth while the kids sleep in the tents makes up for it.

Day 9

Prompt: Winning a Teddy for the Other

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

When Klavier finds that he’s run out of date ideas with Apollo, he goes to the smartest person he knows, Ema. Ema suggests taking Apollo out to the carnival for a date, and Klavier decides to take him there. While they’re at the carnival, Klavier finds out something shocking. It turns out, Apollo is…scarily good at carnival games.

Day 10

Prompt: Love Language

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

One day, Phoenix wants to take a “What is your love language?” quiz online with Edgeworth. Edgeworth thought it was stupid, but Phoenix’s excitement over this inane moronic quiz quickly convinces him. It all goes smoothly at first, that is until Edgeworth gets the love language “Physical touch”. He does not like that, not one bit.

Day 11

Prompt: Poetry, Art, Music, Craft

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Klavier has always been the one who gave gifts in the relationship, whether that be songs or manga. Though, Apollo wants to try to be the one giving the gifts in the relationship. With the help of Phoenix, Apollo tries making Klavier a painting and a poem. He’s bad at both of them, but Klavier loves his gifts despite that.

Day 12

Prompt: “You kept this?”

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Edgeworth kept his Signal Samurai keychain, it was a reminder of his old life and the ones he unwillingly left behind. Phoenix kept his Signal Samurai keychain too, it was a relic of his old friend and a reminder to never give up. One day when talking about the Signal Samurai, they’re both surprised that the other kept it.

Day 13

Prompt: Secret Family Recipe

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

It’s always Franziska planning the dates, and Maya wants to try planning a date once. With Pearl, Penny, Larry and Phoenix’s help, Maya plans a date with Franziska on the beach. Maya cooks a secret Fey recipe for the date, something she hasn’t done without her mother’s help. The cooking process starts out disastrously, but Franziska seems to like it.

Day 14

Prompt: Falling Asleep Together

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Apollo loved anime and manga, constantly consuming that kind of media any time that he has free time. Klavier doesn’t understand why he likes it, but he does want to. When Apollo offers that Klavier binge watch an anime with him one evening, Klavier accepts immediately, in the hopes that it would help him understanding it.

Day 15

Prompt: Accidents don’t just happen accidentally

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Phoenix is the president of the art club and always carrying a paintbrush. Edgeworth is the president of the debate club and always carrying a book. The two accidentally bump into each other in a hallway, and after that they become friends. Though, as time went on they both realize that their meeting wasn’t as accidental as they thought.

Day 16

Prompt: “I hate you” - “I love you too”

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Even though Klavier and Apollo are together, Klavier is still annoying as hell. Klavier constantly teases Apollo, he’s always so needy and clingy, and it seemed to be his life mission to embarrass Apollo at every opportunity. Apollo still loved him, despite how annoying he was. But one day when he’s had enough, Apollo tries annoying Klavier back.

Day 17

Prompt: Animal Shelter

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

When the loneliness gets to him, Klavier decides to adopt a dog. He goes to a local animal shelter, and that’s where he meets a cute volunteer. When he finds out that the volunteer also works at a local animal grooming shop too, Klavier gets his dog groomed there so he can get to know the volunteer.

Day 18

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Apollo didn’t believe in soulmates. Even though he could see the red strings of fate of people, he still was skeptical. He thought the idea of soulmates were silly. He never cared about his soulmate, and he ignored the red string tied to his pinky finger. So imagine his surprise when the flashy prosecutor Klavier Gavin was his soulmate.

Day 19

Prompt: Hot Chocolate

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

It’s Christmas! The time of holiday cheer and Christmas spirit, and Franziska hated it. She hated everything about the holidays, and she had never in her life ever celebrated Christmas. Maya signs them up for couples’ Christmas activities, much to her dismay. It starts out disastrously, but getting to drink hot chocolate with Maya Fey makes up for it.

Day 20

Prompt: Bedtime Stories

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

When Phoenix is out late working at the Borscht Bowl, he asks Edgeworth’s help in babysitting Trucy until he comes back. Edgeworth agrees, eager to spend more time with the human ray of sunshine. However, complications arise when he has to tell Trucy a bedtime story, and he has to make one up on the spot.

Day 21

Prompt: Kiss for Good Luck

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Klavier is nervous about an upcoming trial, since not only the defendant, but also the victim and witness are all A-list celebrities. He may have been a celebrity himself, but that didn’t stop him from being nervous around Zeralyn van Roe. Sensing Klavier’s apprehension at the upcoming trial, Apollo does his best to help Klavier with his nerves.

Day 22

Prompt: Slow Dance

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

When Shelly de Killer kidnaps Edgeworth and Phoenix for an upcoming trial, it’s up to Franziska and Maya to save them. Once they find out that de Killer is going to a big masquerade ball, the scene of the crime, there’s only one thing they can do. Attend the ball and disguise themselves as a couple, of course!

Day 23

Prompt: POV Outsider

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Edgeworth and Phoenix were in a relationship, something that Trucy was delighted by. She was glad that her father had someone to love him, to care for and take care of him in ways that Trucy never could. Though, that never seemed to stop Trucy from noticing how weird of a couple her father and Uncle Edgeworth was.

Day 24

Prompt: All the Hugs

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Maya loves hugging people, hugging her friends and family, and most of all she loves hugging her wonderful girlfriend, much to Franziska’s dismay. Franziska hates physical touch, though she tolerates it whenever Maya hugs her. She knows that her touch aversion bothers Maya. So, in a way to make up for it, Franziska tries hugging Maya for once.

Day 25

Prompt: First Dance

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Klavier isn’t very good at dancing, something that surprised Apollo. He’s a rockstar, he should be good at dancing dammit! Apollo however, has been taking dancing classes ever since he was a child, so he considered himself to be pretty good. One day, when Klavier has to dance for his first solo song, he goes directly to Apollo for help.

Day 26

Prompt: Blankets

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

While Franziska stays over at Maya’s apartment, it ends up raining late at night. The two decide that it’d be best that Franziska stay over for the night, and for her to leave in the morning. However, there’s a small problem, there’s only one bed! Franziska and Maya end up sleeping next to each other, sharing a blanket.

Day 27

Prompt: Reunion

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Phoenix is an art student at Ivy University, studying to become an artist. Edgeworth is a law student at Themis University, studying to become a prosecuting attorney. The two once knew each other, but they were separated at the age of nine. One day, the two happen to be at the same library for different reasons, and they reunite.

Day 28

Prompt: Picnic

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

Edgeworth takes Phoenix out on a picnic in a dog park for a date, hoping for the day to be romantic. Though with Pess peeing and pooping all over the place, Pess eating the bacon in their BLT sandwiches, and dogs fighting everywhere, it ends very badly. Phoenix doesn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he finds it hilarious.

Day 29

Prompt: Leaves

Ship: Narumitsu

Summary:

It’s fall, the leaves turning orange and the wind growing colder. Edgeworth has left for France a few weeks ago, with promises of coming back after two months. Everything reminds Phoenix of Edgeworth, especially the leaves. The changing leaves and seasons remind Phoenix of Edgeworth, and how he has changed so much. Phoenix decides to write him a letter.

Day 30

Prompt: Dear Diary

Ship: Franmaya

Summary:

Franziska writes a diary, and she has never shown it to anyone, something Maya understood. Diaries are private, an unabashed display of one’s thoughts and feelings. Franziska was never good at feelings, and she was worse at sharing them. Maya never expected to see Franziska’s diary. So it was a surprise when Franziska showed her the diary one day.

Day 31

Prompt: A Sweet Treat

Ship: Klapollo

Summary:

Klavier has noticed how stressed Apollo has been lately, more stressed than he usually was. With juggling 3 cases at once, Mikeko with an injured lag and a cast, and a new ruthless prosecutor, it was understandable that he’d be stressed. Klavier decides to do something about this, and he takes out Apollo to a cafe for a cheesecake.

#flufftober #flufftober 2022 #ace attorney #ace attorney fanfiction #narumitsu #klapollo #franmaya

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scarletwinterxx · 2 years

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flashback when you met me - jaehyun imagine

it’s been a while since i wrote a jaehyun fluff, i think😂 sorry if i keep coming back to the jaehyun ceo trope it’s just he looks so good in suits I can’t help myself. I hope you like this one!!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2022 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

pic not mine. credits to rightful owner

Don’t marry too young, they said. You’ll miss out on so many things, you’ll never get to enjoy your youth and it will probably only end badly. Those are some of the words thrown at you and Jaehyun when you decided to marry and yet here you are about to celebrate your 4th year of marriage and 6 years of relationship.

Of course it isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, just like any other couple you’ve had your fair share of arguments and fights. One thing you both agreed on, never let the other one sleep upset and no matter how angry you are with each other you must say I love you before bed. Silly? yes, a bit. But to the two of you it’s a tradition. A rule you follow with no exceptions unless you want it to turn into a bigger fight, thankfully until now that has never happened. Every argument you’ve had with your husband always ends with a whisper of an apology and a kiss.

Today seemed like one of those days when one of you will have to say sorry, and it won’t be you. You were suppose to have lunch with your husband but it’s past 2o’clock and no Jaehyun ever showed up.

You didn’t immediately get mad at him, knowing his schedule is always packed. Being the CEO of his family’s company does take most of his time, but even then he made a vow to never make you feel like you’re second to him. You’ll always be his first priority as he is yours.

Opting to order takeout for your husband just in case he’s too busy with meetings, seeing that he even missed your lunch together. You made your way up to his office, seeing an unfamiliar face sitting by the desk outside his office.

“Hello, how can I assist you?” the girl eyes, noticing the not so subtle look she gace you from head to toe.

“I’m here for Mr. Jeong” you smile back at her, another habot you and your husband have. It started back when you first got married when Jaehyun wouldn’t stop calling you Mrs. Jeong.

“Do you have an appointment?” oh she’s definitely new here, you know she’s only doing her job but surely someone must’ve briefed her

“Uh no, is he in a meeting?” you asked back, if he was you plan to just leave the food for him to have later. “No, but you need to set an appointment to meet him”

“Well, what’s your name again?” you ask the girl, introducing herself with a confused tone “You’re Mr. Jeong’s new secretary right? If it isn’t too much trouble and if he’s not too busy can you tell him his wife is here to bring him his lunch since he was late today” you said all with a smile on your lips, the girl’s mouth slightly hanging open as she hear you introduce yourself

“Oh Mrs. Jeong, right give me a moment I’ll let him know you’re here” she hurriedly stood up from her seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s door, speaking quietly but you can here hear explain the situation to your husband.

WIthin seconds the door was thrown open to show your husband looking around the lobby, his eyes landing on you. He was just about to shoot you a smile but then he noticed your expression. Just then he remembered how badly he messed up.

“I’ll be taking it from here, thank you” you tell his assistance before walking over to Jaehyun. While waiting for him to close the door, you set the food down on the coffee table in his office. Looking around to see the scattered on his table and a cup of coffee.

“Looks like you have a busy day today” feeling a pair of arms encircle your waist, your back meeting his chest.

“Baby, I’m so so sorry” he whispers in your ears, giving you a few light kisses on the side of your face, down to your neck and shoulders. On any other day, you’ll give into your husband’s charms easily. You admit you’re not immune to his kisses. But for now you hold your ground.

“Imagine the look on my face when I realized it’s already 2pm and my husband is still nowhere to be found for our lunch date”

“I know I messed up, i was doing something and you know me when I start something I have to finish it”

You snicker at his words, understanding the innuendo. Pulling yourself out of his embrace to give him a look of annoyance, “Well you better finish that lunch I brought for you because I will not be cooking dinner tonight. I’m going now”

“You’re not staying?” he asks, holding you back pulling on your arm

“I’ll see you at home” you said then exited the room. Jaehyun knows not to fight you when you get in these kinds of mood, it’s better to let you be and appease to you later. He did make a mental note to buy your favorite pastries and flowers on his way home.

Later that night, Jaehyun made sure to come home earlier than usual. You should be home by now but the lights in the apartment were still off, wondering where you could be he looked through the rooms only to find you already sleeping on the bed cuddling his pillow. You can’t sleep without burying your head against something, usually it’s Jaehyun you’re cuddling but since you’re being stubborn and he isn’t home yet you opted for his pillow instead.

Jaehyun smiles at the sight in front of him. Walking towards you until he was standing beside the bed, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders to keep you warm until he gets to bed. Quietly stepping back out to the kitchen to put the flowers on a vase and the snacks he brought for you on the fridge for later. He quickly changed into more comfortable sweats, foregoing the shirt because you’re more than enough to keep him warm.

Immediately when he got under the covers, you woke up from your sleep. Adjusting your vision to see your husband lay beside you before pulling you against his chest, tucking you under his chin.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No, missed you already” you mumble against his neck, still half asleep.

Jaehyun smiles at your cute voice, kissing you on the head a couple of times. Hand resting on your waist under the covers with your legs tangled together.

“Sorry I missed lunch” he hears you hum quietly, too tired to say the words but he knows he’s forgiven. Feeling a light kiss against his neck.

“I love you” he whispers to you, this time you made effort to look at him in the eyes. Even though you’re still half asleep, you smile at your husband before kissing him on the lips. Today’s argument long forgotten and forgiven.

“As I love you”

“Are they that afraid of me?”

“Baby, the last time you joined poker night Johnny almost lost his car” Jaehyun smiles at the memory. It’s a tradition with the boys ever since college to have poker night at least once a month, they used to do it more often when they lived together at their frat house but now they all have different schedules and jobs.

It was where you and Jaehyun met.

Doyoung, his frat brother, was a mutual friend. Doyoung invited you over for poker night when he heard you’re good at it. What he didn’t expect was for you to be the big winner for the night, Doyoung thinks half of his frat brothers either fell in love with you or hated you then and there. He also didn’t miss the lovestruck look on his younger brother’s face.

Jaehyun was a known heartthrob across campus but he doesn’t really date. When he saw the younger one watch you all night long with that lovesick smile, Doyoung knew it was the start of something new.

Jaehyun is a betting man, and that night he wanted to be all in with you. The mystery girl sitting across from him on the poker table. He’s willing to lose every hand if he’s playing against you.

And Doyoung was right. The moment you were out the door, Jaehyun was knocking on his practically begging him for your number. Doyoung didn’t want you to be mad at him, knowing you’re a very private person and didn’t like giving your number that easily. Instead he told his younger brother to talk to you instead, and gave your usual breakfast order.

The next morning, your favorite coffee and a croissant was already waiting for you on your table when you got to class. Looking around to see who put it there but no one was looking your way.

You took a look at the note, a simple good morning and his number written. Signed off by one Jeong Jaehyun.

It wasn’t that hard to fall in love with him. Jaehyun does live up to his valentine boy nickname. He’s a romantic at heart, he’s competitive and funny, a good listener and an even better kisser. It didn’t take that long until he got that sweet yes from you.

Smiling back at him, watching him through the mirror as he picks a shirt to wear for the night. “I should’ve asked him for the car” you jokingly said. Standing up from where you were sitting to give Jaehyun a back hug.

“He would probably lock the door if he sees you again during poker night”

“They fear what they can’t defeat” you say, kissing the back of his neck. Admiring your husband through the mirror. Years of being together but it still feels like you’re newly dating. Jaehyun made it his mission to make you feel like he’s courting you every day. Even after exchanging vows, he never fails to make you blush and make the butterflies in your stomach flutter away.

Watching your reflections through the mirror, your arms were still hugging him with your hand on full display showing the shiny ring Jaehyun put on you years ago. Jaehyun can’t help the smile creeping on his lips whenever he sees it, a symbol that he gets to keep you forever.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine here alone? I can tell the guys you need me here” he tells you, turning around to give you a proper hug.

Putting your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “I’ll be fine” Jaehyun chases your lips, kissing you once again. Deeper this time. Making you hum against his lips.

“Yea but what if the baby need me or something?” this time you can’t help but laugh. Another symbol of your love, the life you created together. When you first told him you were pregnant, Jaehyun swore he fell in love with you harder. He thought he already loved you the most, but hearing you tell him you’re carrying his child made his heart feel like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

You’re only 3 months pregnant, but ever since you found out about the little human growing inside you, Jaehyun has been extra protective over you. To the extent that he won’t leave your side when he isn’t busy with work. It actually took some convincing from you to make him go back to his office, he thought he should work from home until after the baby’s birth but you insisted you didn’t to be watched over 24/7.

“The baby is fine, I promise I’ll call you if I need anything” you assure him, smiling when he kissed you again. Arms hugging you closer against him.

“If you keep kissing me like this, you’re going to be late” you said when he started to kiss you again.

“If you weren’t already pregnant, you’d probably be if I keep kissing you like this” Jaehyun says with a smirk when you broke apart.

Dodging his lips when he pulled you in again, “Hey” he says reaching out for you

“Tell you what, win a few rounds tonight I’ll give more kisses when you get home”

“You got yourself a deal, Mrs. Jeong” pulling you back to him, twirling you once before hugging you against him again “Tell Doyoung and Johnny they won’t be godfathers to our child if they don’t let me play next time”

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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our own luck ~ pete davidson

word count: 1652

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Pete Davidson fluff on the readers wedding day.”

description: in which they decide to make their own luck on their wedding day

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

While sharing your big day with your friends and family was the best feeling in the world, having a room full of your best girl friends and your mom all talking over one another and fawning over your and trying to get ready became overwhelming very fast. Luckily, because it was your wedding day, everyone was very kind when you asked them to give you some space.

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at yourself. You had been ready for quite some time as everyone insisted on helping you to get ready first. Your beautiful white dress hugged your figure perfectly and your makeup brought out all the best features on your face. You looked absolutely beautiful, almost like a princess.

“Goddamn, I’m marrying the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You spun around and found your husband to be stood at the door, dressed in his suit except with his tie still hanging undone around his shoulders. Your eyes widened in horror as you tried to find something to cover yourself.

“Pete!” you snapped. “You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding! That’s bad luck!”

Pete rolled his eyes as he entered the room. “That’s a stupid superstition. Do you know where it came from?”

You shook your head.

“It comes from back when arranged marriages were a thing. The men weren’t allowed to see their wives before the arranged marriages because if she was ugly, the dude would want to dump her. And the parents of the girls didn’t want that because it usually meant they’d be losing money and power. But it just carried on into modern day weddings.”

“That’s awful,” you said, scrunching up your nose at Pete’s story.

He chuckled. “It is! It’s a stupid superstition. I’ve seen you plenty of times and still want to marry you. Seeing you before the wedding doesn’t change anything.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him. You rested your head against his chest and listened to his heart beating. For the first time all day, you were feeling calm and soothed.

Pete placed his hand gently under your chin and tilted your head back to look up at him. He started to lower his head to kiss you, but you quickly pulled away.

“You can’t kiss me!” you said. “That is definitely some sort of bad luck.”

Pete chuckled. “Baby, you’re too worried. There will be no bad luck today. I love you and I want to marry you. Nothing is going to suddenly change if I see you and kiss you now.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close. You smiled up at him as he pressed his lips to yours. Despite the worry you had that this would cause some sort of bad superstitious stuff on your wedding day, you couldn’t help but to go with it. Pete always managed to calm you down, and you definitely needed someone who was legitimately going to help with your pre-wedding jitters.

You finally pushed him away from you, unable to hide the wide smile on your face. “Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to test fate.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you at the end of the aisle I guess.”

“I’ll see you at the end of the aisle,” you responded. “Oh, and wipe your mouth. I got lipstick on you.”

His slightly red tinted mouth smiled back at you before he finally exited the room. You let out an exhale you didn’t realize you had been holding, realizing then that the nerves you were feeling weren’t that of worry or fear, but rather of excitement. You couldn’t wait to get to the end of the aisle and to finally be married to the love of your life.

You were fixing your lipstick when your bridal party came back in and told you it was almost time to walk down the aisle. Your mom made a fuss over you one last time to make sure your makeup was right and your dress was fitting nicely before the group of you got into formation.

Your wedding was being held in a large church, the only venue that would satisfy both of your parents and also Pete’s mom. The doors to the chapel were closed, but you could still hear the soft murmur of your guests inside. The minute the doors opened and the organ began to play your wedding march, a hush fell over the attendees.

The bride’s maids and groom’s men went first, linking arms and smiling at the attendees before making it to their spots at the end of the aisle. Your Maid of Honor - your best friend - linked arms with Pete’s Best Man - Colson - and they made their way down the aisle. Once they reached the end, your little flower girl and ring bearer started walking.

When you appeared at the doorway, taking your father’s arm in your hand, everyone turned to look at you. You felt it becoming harder to breathe knowing everyone was looking at you. Your hands were starting to feel clammy and all you wanted to do was to wipe them off in your dress before you had to hold Pete’s hand.

“Don’t focus on everyone else,” your dad whispered in your ear, noticing how nervous you suddenly had become. “Just look at him.”

You peeled your eyes away from the dozens of gazes looking right at you to meet the only one that mattered: Pete’s.

His eyes were already filling with tears, but you could see he was trying to hold them back. When you locked eyes, he smiled at you, and you could still see a hint of red on his lips from earlier. You smiled back at him as you finally took your first step forward.

You knew that it was silly, but you were terrified of something back happening between now and reaching Pete at the end of the aisle. Some terrible luck like you tripping up or your dress getting caught in your heels and it came off, or maybe the tears on Pete’s face were sad ones and he was starting to regret his decision.

The superstition did stem from grooms unable to see their bride to be because they may back out of the wedding, a voice inside of you reminded you. Maybe he’s going to back out because he saw you before the wedding.

Your dad gave you away to Pete, smiling a little through his own tears. You turned to face your husband to be, finally feeling a lump beginning to grow in your throat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Long time, no see.”

You giggled a little at this.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest marrying the two of you began, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy union of Peter Michael Davidson and (Y/F/N).”

Pete subtly rolled his eyes at the formality of the ceremony, which caused you to giggle even more.

“I have been asked to keep this short and sweet,” the priest joked, “and that I will. The rings?”

The ring bearer came forward and passed the rings to you and to Pete. You had decided to go with the traditional vows as every time Pete tried to write his own they all came out a little too explicit for a family ceremony.

The feeling of the cold ring on your finger made your heart race with excitement. You couldn’t believe that it was actually finally happening. And to put Pete’s ring on his finger too just made everything feel...right.

Then, the magic words finally came: “You may now kiss the bride.”

Although it was the second time you had kissed Pete that day, it still felt just as magically as if it were the first time either of you had kissed at all. With that one kiss, you were officially a Davidson, and officially Pete’s wife.

Everyone cheered as the organ player began to play the wedding march again, signaling that it was time for you and Pete to walk back down the aisle. He took hold of you hand, lacing your fingers together, and the two of you started to walk out of the church.

You, Pete, and both of your parties took a handful of pictures for some time before everyone started to make their way to the place you had booked for your wedding reception.

It had been agreed upon that you and Pete would arrive together, giving you about an hour and a half of alone time before you had to spend the rest of the night with your friends and family. A limo arrived to pick you two up from the church with the plan of driving around for an hour before bringing you to the reception.

Once the door closed behind you, Pete took your face in his hands and began kissing you again. You leaned into him, deepening the kiss as much as possible. If it weren’t for the fact that the dress was so tight and you didn’t want to ruin it before the reception, you probably would’ve gotten onto Pete’s lap and asked him to take you right there. Who needs to wait for a wedding night when you can get it on in a limo?

Pete pulled away from the kiss first, smiling at you as he looked into your eyes. “See? I told you, our own luck.”

“I know, I know,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I can’t believe it finally happened. All that waiting and preparation and we were married within half an hour.”

“I’m glad it didn’t take long,” Pete admitted. “I wanted nothing more than to make you my wife officially.”

You smiled at him and kissed him again. “I love you so much, Pete.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Davidson.”

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head.

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me.

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

* * * * * * * * *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later.

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper.

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration.

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open.

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?”

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place.

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

* * * * * * * * *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer.

But not because of the lights.

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.”

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!”

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.”

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide.

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem.

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?”

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she?

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him?

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone.

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, ��I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it.

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible.

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink.

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him.

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all.

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded.

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty.

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go.

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit.

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history.

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy.

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side.

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice.

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw.

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips.

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

* * * * * * * * *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence.

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t.

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body.

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet.

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol��s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man.

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts.

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

* * * * * * * * *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.”

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate Kisses

A/N: It’s nothing much, but it is something so tender and soft. I love Frankie and fluff! Why not have both? Tis a little thank/happy holiday gift from me to you. Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pregnant reader, references to sex, sweet sweet fluff!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Good morning," the sound of his soft voice accompanied by the feel of his arms around your midsection was enough to make your heart flutter. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his head there and humming in content, "how are you, honey bee?"

"Good morning, mi amor," you replied softly, taking one of his hands that had been resting on the gentle swell of your belly and bringing to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "I'm perfect. What about you, Frankie? Did you rest well?"

"Like a dream," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly letting go and moving towards the coffee pot. Once he poured a cup and made it to his liking, he came over, and followed your line of sight out into the yard.

There was nothing but mountains of glittering snow coating the entire neighborhood as far as the eye could see. Small children were already playing outside, all bundled up in thick snow jackets and woolen hats, while dogs ran around their yards barking and biting at soft, fat flakes that were gently drifting down from the heavens.

"Record snowfalls," you looked at him with excited eyes, "which means we are snowed in and work is canceled. Do I even try to pretend to be upset?"

"Hell no," his smile was infectious as his singular dimple appeared and his soft eyes crinkled in the corners the way you adored, "I get to spend the say being lazy at home with my girl? I'm not going to argue with that."

"You know what today calls for," your eyes were wide and bright as the two of you knew exactly what a snow day meant. You'd come up with your own little traditions a long time ago and always pulled them out on days like this.

"You just want an excuse for hot chocolate!" Frankie's tone was lovingly accusing as he crossed his arms over his chest as he took a sip from his mug.

"No!" you insisted firmly, offering him a small little pout, "your daughter is craving some. Ever since you knocked me up that's all I've been wanting! And I don't need any excuse for hot chocolate. Hot chocolate isn't a crime!"

"First of all, this -" he pointed tenderly to the small bump just visible under your sweater, "was a team effort. Secondly, you've always loved my hot chocolate, long before any of this. She had nothing to do with this!”

"Obviously," you stuck your tongue out at him, "but you make it all fancy and gourmet. How can I say no? She's not helping though! I swear it's a craving."

“Your mamá is already using you as an excuse,” he laughed as he rested his hand on your belly. You instantly felt her move and flutter under his touch; she always seemed to be more active when he was around. Even though you were trying to have a seriously teasing conversation, the moment was enough to make your heart melt, “can you believe it, mija? She just doesn’t want to admit she’s addicted to the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I can quit it any time I want,” you snorted with laughter at his silly antics, “I just choose not to. Now, don’t deny your pregnant wife what she wants!”

“What does she want?” there was a wicked little glint in his eye as you raised a brow at him.

“Well for starters,” you pointed at the cabinet, “some hot chocolate later. But how about breakfast for now? And a warm bath after that? I swear I’m getting as bad as you old man, my back is killing me.”

“Hey now,” he warned with a small boop to your nose, “you’re getting awfully cheeky for someone who wants my hot chocolate. You’re on very thin ice, honey bee.”

“You know I’m only kidding, Francisco,” you gave him a quick kiss as you went to the refrigerator to start gathering ingredients for breakfast, “besides, you’re my favorite DILF.”

“Oh no,” his laughter was a loud, beautiful thing as it sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned to him and shot him a cheeky little wink, “not you too! Everyone’s calling me that lately, I swear.”

“They can look but they can’t touch. I mean, have you seen yourself Frankie? You’re handsome as hell, you’re amazing, wonderful, kind. Everything,” you insisted as you rejoined his side, You could already see the light flush of color in his cheeks as he relished your words, “and you’re all mine. Besides, I’m half the reason you’re a DILF. Where is my recognition in all of this?”

“I love you, honey bee,” he stared at you in awe for a moment before turning so he could kiss you properly. It took you by surprise but it took even less to respond back; kissing him was such saccharine bliss, “you are everything to me.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “now let’s get this ultimate lazy day started!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Those might have been our best pancakes ever,” you wolfed down the last syrupy bite before pushing away your empty plate, “I feel as stuffed as a damn turkey.”

“You’re the most beautiful and radiant turkey I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked as you lovingly groaned at his silly words, “I’ll clean up and you can start the bath. Plan?”

“Plan,” you agreed as you slid off the bar stool and started padding towards the kitchen. As Frankie busied himself with gathering up the empty dishes, you turned around and watched him for a moment, nothing but a gentle warmth radiating throughout your body, “Frankie? You’re going to join me, right?”

He turned to you and offered you his megawatt smile as he slowly nodded, a rogue curl bouncing around and falling onto his forehead. Gods, he was so effortlessly handsome and sweet. You couldn’t stop yourself from rushing over to him, delicately grabbing his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the faint sweetness of the syrup, “what was that for?”

“Nothing,” you grinned breathlessly, “I just love you is all.”

“Oh,” a flush of pink tinged his cheeks as he brought his hands to your face, delicately tracing over your features before pressing the softest kiss to your lips, “I love you too.”

“I know,” you beamed, “now hurry up so we can take a bath!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming under your breath, sitting at the edge of the large tub as you watched it fill up with warm water. There weren’t very many requirements you had when the two of you had been house hunting before deciding to expand your family - but a large bathtub was one of them. Moments like this made you glad for it; you loved being able to slip into the tub, often dragging along Frankie with you, not that he had any complaints of course. It was perfect for the two of you, and now that you seemed to be growing by the day, it was even better.

Pulling your favorite bottle of bubble bath off the shelf, you poured some in, inhaling deeply at the relaxing scent. All the stress and worries you had were already dissolving away with each passing second. Once you were satisfied with the copious amounts of soft bubbles, you threw in some Epsom salt for good measure, hoping it would help your aching body. Deciding to make it even more festive, you grabbed the speaker from your bedroom, and turned it on, opting to play some soft Christmas music in the background. It wasn’t like you were going to be paying much attention to it anyway; your conversations with Frankie always seemed endless, no matter how long the two of you had been together.

“Close your eyes,” Frankie came into the bathroom just as you were finishing getting everything ready. You closed your eyes, making a show of putting your hands over your eyes as you heard him shuffling in, “okay, pick a hand - left or right.”

“Hmmm…” you mused for a moment, “how about left?”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckled as he pulled your hands from your eyes. A little grin spread across your features when you saw what he was holding in his hands, “surprise!”

“Frankie,” his name was but a mere soft sigh as you reached for the soft, cozy pajamas he was holding out to you. You could spy a matching pair for him on the counter, your heart fluttering in delight. It had become a sort of little tradition for the two of you to get new matching holiday pajamas every year. It was just some silly thing, but it still meant the world to you, “I love them. Thank you so much - you remembered.”

“Of course,” he held out his hands to you, slowly hoisting you to your feet, “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He slowly reached for the hem of your sweater, gently pulling up and over your head and outstretched arms before tossing it on the floor. He followed suit with your bra, unclasping it before letting it join your sweater and doing the same to your leggings and underwear. It was such a small intimate thing, the way his eyes looked over you was nothing short of adoration and reverence.

“Your turn,” you whispered before starting to unbutton his flannel, taking your time to undo it one by one. Shrugging it off his shoulders, you pressed a few kisses to the soft, golden skin of his shoulder before moving onto his jeans, wicking them down his legs along with his boxers. He made a small sound in his throat before stepping out of his jeans and pulling you into his arms. The gentle coolness of his wedding band on your back was wonderful; a delicate reminder of just how much he loved you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a hand running down your side as he rested it on your waist, taking solace in the gentle swell of your belly. He still couldn’t believe your daughter - his daughter, one that came as a small surprise and blessing was in there. One he had never known he wanted so much until you told him you were pregnant and he broke down crying, as emotional as you were. You, the two of you, were everything for him.

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re not so bad yourself. I guess we both got pretty lucky, huh? I love you so much, Francisco. More than you will ever know.”

He looked back at you with those brown eyes you adored so much, and you could see that they were glossy, close to spilling over with tears. You reached up and touched his cheek before brushing away a stray curl.

“Come on,” he held your hand as you motioned towards the tub. He got in first, settling down before holding his arms out to you. Carefully, you settled in next to him surprising him for a moment as you occupied the other side. Before he could say anything, you gathered up a handful of bubbles, and blew them at him, watching as they stuck in his dark mop of hair, “playing dirty are we?”

“Maybe,” you splashed him with the warm water, “you have to play nice, I’m pregnant!”

“You started it!” he splashed you back as you squealed in delight, “don’t start what you can’t finish!”

“Oh, it’s on! It’s so on,” you laughed as you tried to move the bubbles closer to your half of the tub, “you’re going down!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Do you have enough blankets, honey?” Frankie walked back into the living room, arms filled with a few more big, fuzzy blankets. You looked up from the comfy couch, during the numerous blankets you’d already secured and gave him a big grin. You were already feeling so toasty and warm in your new pajamas after your bath, and this just made it so much better. He snorted with laughter at the sight of only your head poking out, “oh.”

“It’s freezing!” you insisted, digging your arm out and pointing at your feet, “pile them on! The only thing I’m missing is your body.”

“I have a few more things to do first,” he put the blankets down and wrapped them around your feet, “gonna start a fire and then go and make the hot chocolate. You, my little bee, are in charge of finding our first movie. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“As if that’s a question,” you joked as you reached for the remote, as he went over to the fireplace, “you just need to hurry up!”

"You are getting so demanding," he laughed as he kneeled next to the fireplace and started to pile some of the logs in. He started to hum softly under his breath as you watched him, absolutely in awe of the man you were able to call your husband. The sight of him in the same pajamas as you was endearing and caused you a moment of pause as you pictured doing this next year with him and your daughter.

You often wondered what she would like, although you both knew that the only thing that mattered was that she was healthy and sound. But a small part of you hoped she'd take after Frankie, to have those gentle chocolate eyes and dark curls. Maybe she'd take after you, or maybe -

"Everything alright?" Frankie turned and caught your distant gaze on him as she started to light the fire. You hadn't realized you'd gotten so lost in your little daydream.

"Yes," you smiled at him, "just thinking..."

"Thinking about...."

"Its silly..."

"If it matters to you then it's not silly," he insisted, making a small sound of satisfaction when the fire started to crackle away merrily.

"I was just thinking about next year," you admitted shyly, "you know how we do the matching pjs every year? I think it would be fun to do that with the bean next year."

"I love the sound of that," he agreed, "that'll make a great Christmas card!"

"Yeah," you agreed as he brought you a pillow to rest your head on, "you really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Only for my bee," he promised with a wink and a kiss, "I'll go and make the hot chocolate. Classic for you today?"

"Surprise me!"

"Be back," he promised as pointed at the television, "now pick something good out!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

It seemed like it had been a small eternity since Frankie had left to go on his little adventure of hot chocolate making, and you'd long since found a suitable movie. You started it but kept it paused as you waited. But soon you felt a flutter in your belly. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you put your hand on your tummy where you felt her moving around.

"I know baby bean," you told her gently, "I miss him too. Even when he's gone only for a few minutes. You're gonna love him so much, just like me. He's going to be the best papá. We already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you."

"Talking to yourself?" just in time your knight in cozy pajamas came striding back in with two delicious steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"I am never alone anymore," you reminded him as he came and cozied up next to you, "I've always got the bean. And we were having a private conversation, thank you very much."

"Please don't let me interrupt," he passed your mug over before pulling blankets over his form and you curled up in his side. You grinned at the full mug, admiring how perfectly he had made it. It was a classic, a layer of mini marshmallows followed by a layer of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.

"Thank you, Frankie," you beamed as you took a long sip, savoring the creamy sweetness on your tongue. You heard a soft chuckle before Frankie reached over and wiped off the whipped cream from your nose, "oops!"

"Good?" he asked as you nodded eagerly. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and gave you a soft, saccharine little kiss. He lingered against your lips and you could taste the sweetness of the hot chocolate that was clinging onto him. He grinned before giving you a few more pecks, each sweeter than the last, "even better. Now, start this movie and let's get this marathon on the road!"

You clutched your mug to your chest as Frankie brought an arm over your shoulders and you pressed play on your first cheesy holiday movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn't long before you felt your eyes start to get heavy as you finished your mug of hot chocolate. You were about to move it to the coffee table, but Frankie beat you to the punch, grabbing it from your hands and setting down before pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you as you laid against his chest and let the soft rise and fall of his chest relax and lull you.

Soon enough your eyes closed and everything seemed distant. You didn't even try to fight it as Frankie pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand was holding yours, your fingers laced together and the other was resting on your belly. It wasn't long before you were completely under the siren spell of sleep and snoring quietly in his arms.

"I love you, honey bee," he whispered ever so gently as he relaxed too, growing more tired by the second, "and you too, baby bee. You two are everything."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #cattfish morales x reader

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drowsy-writer · 3 years

Text

I Can't Stop— regulus black x reader

Summary: An unmovable object vs. an unstoppable force (aka Reader tries to get Regulus to bed)

Warning: cursing, angst, bittersweet fluff, crying

Notes: Reader has she/her pronouns and is a Hufflepuff; this can also be read as either romantic or platonic also yes I sometimes face claim regulus as Benjamin Wadsworth pls don’t @ me i’m new here lol

Hogwarts 1975

Every Hufflepuff knows that when 10:00 hits, the kitchen goes silent. No pots boil, no ovens switch on―without the house elves, the place is as silent as the library on a good day. The alluring scents of the day’s meals would linger in the air, hitting the face of every Hufflepuff who entered eager to make it to their common room and call it a night.

Tonight the smells of roasted chicken and creamy beef stew were replaced with the stingy aroma of coffee as two students sat at the end of the kitchen’s massive table, books spread out amongst themselves. Two gigantic porcelain mugs were placed within arms reach and a fresh pot of coffee sat between them.

“Find anything yet?” the Hufflepuff asked. Her [h/c] curls bounced slightly as she looked up from her piece of parchment, observing the pale Slytherin boy across from her scrunch his brows.

“No,” Regulus shut another book and tossed it on top of the stack next to him. He reached over to his mug, which embarrassingly had an orange flat-faced kitten painted on it, and downed its remaining contents. He then slammed the mug on the table and ran both of his fingers through his short ebony locks,” nothing. Yet.”

“House elves are bound to wake up soon,” [Y/N] mused. She cocked her head towards the tiny door sitting next to the fireplace,” maybe we should call it a night.”

Regulus groaned as he reached for the pot of coffee and poured himself another cup. The pot shook a bit as Regulus poured it, the bags underneath his eyes growing darker. [Y/N] looked at her friend and sighed.

“We’ve gone through almost the whole library, Reggie,” [Y/N] said. Regulus took a quick swig of his refilled cup of coffee and cracked open another book,” look! That’s even the same book you opened last night. Cover and all!”

“Nope,” Regulus held up the book and tapped his pale finger on the cover where it read Volume 2. It was [Y/N]’s time to groan as she took her own mug, this one with a silly looking dog on it, and sipped at the now cold contents. Her face scrunched up as she placed the mug down,” Zatara might’ve been a loon, but he was Bullock’s assistant. He probably hid something in here so Dumbledore or anyone else couldn’t find and burn it..”

“What makes you think that Volume 2 is gonna have something when the first one didn’t?” [Y/N] had got up from her chair, cold cup of coffee in hand, and dumped it down the drain of the sink behind her. She turned the faucet on, rinsing out the mug and gently putting it back on the drying rack. When [Y/N] spun around, she was met by Regulus’s signature scowl,” don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know I’m right. I’m always right with these sorts of things.”

“I know,” Regulus hissed. He looked back down at the book,” but right now, I’m hoping you’re wrong.”

[Y/N] huffed as she sat back down on her chair again. A small yawn escaped her lips but she knew it’d be a while until Regulus decided to pack his stuff and leave. This was the case every night since 2nd year where Regulus and [Y/N] would stay up right before the elves came back in to prep for breakfast, reading and discussing topics both school related and pure nonsense. Neither knew how this little tradition started and, quite frankly, neither cared. It was a breath of fresh air for [Y/N] and a sense of normalcy Regulus craved for within his ever turbulent life.

As of recently, however, their midnight meetings were overwhelmed with a sense of dread. It had been months since Regulus had properly been exposed to the world of the Death Eaters and of Lord Voldemort, courtesy of his mother. From then on, he had been put into an almost inescapable hole, one that he was intent of crawling out of. Regulus might've not had the luxury of running away like his brother, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give in without a fight.

“So if I am wrong, what’s gonna happen next?” [Y/N] asked.

Regulus quirked a brow as he stopped reading the passage he was on. Not even bothering to look up, Regulus clicked his tongue in thought. He then, to [Y/N]’s annoyance, shrugged his shoulders and continued to read.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought that far yet? We’ve been looking into Horcruxes for the past three months and you haven’t the clue as to what you’ll do next?!”

“Something like that.”

“You're so—,” [Y/N] let out a muffled scream as she buried her head in her hands,” you're insufferable, you know that? Why am I even friends with you?”

“Haven't thought that far yet either,” Regulus smirked.

“Very funny, Reggie. Now c’mon,” [Y/N] motioned towards the stack of books,” let’s stash these away. We’ve got a Potions exam tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Regulus didn’t make an effort to get up and continued to read through the book. As Regulus flipped through another page, [Y/N] muttered underneath her breath as she jumped down from her seat and walked over to the Slytherin’s side.

“Alright. That’s it.”

Before Regulus could make sense as to what was happening, [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and hoisted him up from the seat.

“[Y/N]?!” Regulus sputtered, dropping the book from his hands,” let me go!”

“Oh shut it, Black! You need to get some sleep!”

Still in her arms, Regulus tensed as their bodies pressed against one another. He cursed himself underneath his breath as his face flushed red.

“Just put me down. Now.”

“No.”

“[Y/N]—!”

[Y/N] tightened her grip as Regulus squirmed within her hold. She dragged him from his chair to the middle of the kitchen where he finally pushed himself off.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You need to sleep, Regulus! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. You’ll fall back if you keep doing this.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do, then? Run away from my problems like my brother? Ignore them? I can’t just turn away from my family and pretend nothing ever happened!” Regulus shouted. His breathing turned ragged, as if he just finished yet another Quidditch match, “what would you expect for me to do?”

“I—I don’t know! I don’t have the answers for everything!” [Y/N] retorted. Regulus groaned as he turned around, intent on picking up where he left off in his book,” but I do know that when the time comes, whatever remnants of a plan you do have, you’ll be too exhausted to do anything about it!”

Regulus stopped in his step as he stared at the rack of spices before him, afraid of meeting his friend’s eyes. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned around. His eyes had yet to meet [Y/N]’s as they shifted throughout the room.

“Why are you—ugh,” Regulus sighed as he ran his hands through his hair,” I just—this is how I work, [Y/N]. You’ve known it since 2nd year. Even when I stop, I can’t stop. When I go to sleep at night, my mind is still racing with all this bullshit about purebloods and Muggles and—.”

“But you can’t just—.”

“—And the fucking potions test you won’t stop telling me about! There’s so many things in my mind that I think Bellatrix’s head looks healthy compared to mine! I can’t stop thinking about my family, my house, even Sirius for Godric’s sake! I can’t stop worrying that if I were to put a pause for even a sliver of a second, everything I’ll ever love will cease to exist. I can’t risk that [Y/N]. Not for a second. Not when I have so much on the line.”

[Y/N] looked down at the floor as her friend’s words ran rapid through her head. She touched her forehead with the palm of her hand, dragging them down until they met the bridge of her nose.

“Fucking—I know that, Regulus. I just—,” [Y/N] gave a pained expression as she pinched the bridge of her nose,”—fuck! I just want you to be okay, ok? You’re my friend. My best friend, actually. It hurts like hell because there’s nothing I can do about it. I can get you as many books as you want, sneak out around the castle as much as you want, lie to as many people as you want , but I can’t—no. I won’t stand here and watch you whittle away. Not when I can do something to prevent it.”

Regulus swallowed hard as his eyes met [Y/N]’s and the pit that had been growing inside his chest began to increase, pushing painfully against his rips. He felt his lungs constrict and if Regulus didn’t know any better, he’d say someone casted a Crucio curse on him and it was slowly ripping his body from the inside out.

“I just can’t let him win, [Y/N],” Regulus mumbled. He leaned back on the table and pressed both hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes as tears began to build up in the corners,” I can’t let that thing win, no matter what.”

Shielding his face from [Y/N], Regulus quietly sobbed as his friend stood in front of him, tears threatening to pour out from her eyes as well. Taking a deep, shaky breath, [Y/N] slowly walked towards her friend and gently wrapped her arms around him. Despite the slight size difference, [Y/N] was able to situate her friend so that his face was buried in the crook of her neck. She combed a hand through his inky, black locks.

“I know won’t,” [Y/N] said,” but I highly doubt snake face over there is going to wait for you to take a quick power nap. We’ll beat him, but not like this.”

Regulus’s grip tightened around [Y/N] and she felt his lips pull into a smile as a low chuckle emitted from him.

“It’s amazing how you’re not a Ravenclaw with how much wisdom you spout out.”

“Well I’m far more interested in my friends then a bloody book,” [Y/N] stepped back, hands still wrapped around Regulus, and smiled,” now let’s clean up and head to bed. You deserve at least one good night’s rest.”

#regulus black #regulus black imagine #regulus black x reader #harry potter #my writing #harry potter imagines #reader insert #hufflepuff #slytherin

201 notes · View notes

skiesofthesketchy · 4 years

Text

Midsummers

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Summary: You drag a poor, unsuspecting stranger to be apart of your little scheme, but JJ doesn’t mind all that much.

Note: Yoooooo how are you guys? This fic is dedicated to my bff @rafej-cambanks bc it is her birthday today!! Go send her some love! I figured this might be a nice lil surprise bc it is 1 of the maybe 2 unpublished fics that you haven’t read yet lol. Anyway, I love you SO MUCH and hope you like this :)

Still working on blurbs for my 1k celebration! Sit tight, they will be coming soon :)

Warnings: language, hella fluff, uhhhh yea Word Count: 4k

gif by @toesure

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror and gazing at your reflection, you couldn’t keep a straight face. The pretty emerald fabric of your dress adorned your figure perfectly, considering the thousands of dollars your mother spent on it plus having it tailored to fit you so. The hem fell to your ankles, showing off your expensive six inch heels and perfectly painted toenails. Your jewelry consisted of a simple diamond necklace and matching earrings, the sparkle adding to your already glowing complexion. You assumed your makeup would look cakey, but it actually looked quite flawless. That’s what you get when your mother hires a professional to do your makeup and hair for the most prestigious Kook party of the year.

Midsummers. Tonight was the night every Kook family planned for months beforehand, and then talked about the months following after. The party where rich socialites gather to brag about their wealth and successes over lobster and expensive champagne, playing fake nice to uphold their own powerful and pleasant reputations. You hated Midsummers with every fiber of your being, but alas, it was the one event you couldn’t get out of, and you had to attend.

You bubbled with laughter as you gazed at your appearance, hardly looking like yourself at all. A silly flower crown in your hair and an elegant dress that could probably pay for a trip to Europe. “So this is the daughter my parents have always wanted,” you sighed, coming out of your laughing fit.

Your parents never really understood you. All they ever wanted was for you to be their perfect princess, hanging out with other Kooks, going shopping, finding a suitable boyfriend from a wealthy family, you know, the whole shabang. And of course, keeping your grades up at the academy so that you can one day work for your father’s multi-million dollar company. It was what all Kooks expect from their kids, but you weren’t about that lifestyle.

Sure, you were grateful for your comfy upbringing, but you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff. You just wanted to have fun, travel the world, figure out who you are. You’d jump off a cliff before you had to be tied down to this boring, money-obsessed world that your parents live in.

With a quick wink to your alter-ego in the mirror, you sauntered out of the large bathroom, your heels clacking on the white marble floors. You made your way to the extravagant lobby area of the Island Club, staying close to the wall in order to not be noticed. Your parents were thankfully already at the party outside, but there was still someone you were trying to avoid: the pathetic boy your parents had set you up with.

He really wasn’t that bad, just boring like every other Kook boy your age. Only caring about parties, drugs, and tormenting the Pogues on the island. According to your parents though, he was a “suitable young man” because his parents were wealthy and respected on Figure Eight.

You spotted your date, Topper Thornton, leisurely scrolling on his phone, his other hand in his pocket. He was waiting for you so that you two could walk down the glorious staircase into the party together. It was tradition for ladies to be escorted down the steps, which is exactly why your mother took finding an escort for you into her own hands. The stupid tradition made you gag. You didn’t need a pretty boy to escort you into a lame-ass party, and that’s why you were hiding from him.

With Topper’s gaze fixed on his phone, you took this opportunity to slip through the large room and onto the balcony, the party happening just down the stairs. With a sigh, you started your descent down the staircase, taking in the scene in front of you. There were pretty lights hung up around the huge tent covering the dining area. People were dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they giggled and chatted to one another. The live band played classy music while some couples danced, and staff members ran around serving drinks to the attendees.

Casually walking down the last few steps, that’s when you noticed your parents watching you, and you grinned brightly at them. You knew ditching your date for the grand entrance would piss them off, which is mostly why you did it, and it was confirmed by the sour expressions on their faces.

“Mom. Dad. You guys look great!” you smiled. Your mother only scowled in response.

“Y/N! What on earth are you doing? Where’s the Thornton boy?” She spoke through her perfect teeth clenched in a fake smile, trying not to draw attention from others.

You shrugged. “I dunno. Great party though,” you said nonchalantly as your eyes wandered, obviously not bothered by the disappointing looks your parents were giving you.

“You know your mother wanted you to walk in on a man’s arm,” your dad said. He was trying to console your mom by rubbing her back soothingly. She was not taking this well, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anger. She wanted to yell at you, but wouldn’t dare to make a scene with all of these people around.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to be escorted by some boy? That tradition is dumb, and sexist, quite frankly.”

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing us!” your mom whisper-yelled. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted in displeasure. She’s more pissed than you thought she’d be, and you smiled. “You couldn’t have done this one thing for us? Why can’t you go one night without embarrassing your family?”

“You’re being dramatic,” you sighed. You loved pushing their buttons. They have to figure out you don’t want to live in this Kook bubble for the rest of your life sooner or later. It sucks that they aren’t accepting of who you are and only want you to be their little Kook Princess, but that has never kept you down for long.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” your dad warned in a low voice. You scoffed.

“Tell me why you ditched your date,” your mom whispered, the anger still apparent even with how quietly she spoke.

“I ditched him because I already have a boyfriend, Mom.” You didn’t really have a boyfriend, but the lie rolled off your tongue easily. Lying to your parents was something you did quite often, and not just to get away with the stupid shit you do sometimes. It was fun to mess with them. They get so upset over silly things, especially your mom.

A smirk found its way to your mother's face, and you knew she didn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Then where is he?” You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of catching you in your lie, especially if it meant she’d make you walk back up those damn steps just to retrieve Topper and do the whole entrance all over again.

You were already disinterested in this conversation, but you couldn’t just walk away now. Your eyes wandered the party briefly, and that’s when you spotted a waiter heading in your direction. He didn’t seem too busy at the moment, no drinks or plates of food in hand, so the gears in your head started turning. Before you could even second guess your plan, you were stopping the boy’s strides by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the spot next to you in front of your parents.

“Right here,” you said. “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend.” An innocent smile graced your lips as you stared at your parents, awaiting their reactions. You were happy to see surprise and displeasure taking over their features, and the blonde boy next to you looked just the same. You ignored him though and the way he turned to you with confusion dancing in his eyes. You didn’t even care if the stranger went along with it. Even if he walked off and this all blew up in your face, the shock on your mom’s face right now has already made it worth it. You found it all fucking hilarious.

Registering the silence and how nobody seemed to know what to do, you turned your smiling face towards the boy, squeezing his hand in yours and trying not to laugh at this whole situation. You finally noticed his beautiful blue eyes and the way they seemed to ask you what the hell is going on. You shot him a wink, and after quickly scanning your face, something in him seemed to change.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.” The boy had turned his attention back to your parents, and reached to shake your father’s hand. You couldn’t help the happiness that swelled up inside of you. He’s actually going along with your idiotic plan to piss your parents off even more.

Your other hand came up to rest on the boy’s bicep as you watched him shake your dad’s hand. Your dad couldn’t form words as he looked at the waiter you clung to. Your mom had plastered on one of her brilliant fake smiles after a few seconds, and nodded her head in acknowledgement.

This was almost too good to be true. You didn’t know the boy standing next to you, but considering he was part of the staff, he had to be a Pogue. Your parents never allowed you to hang out with Pogues before, so you could only imagine their fury after learning you were dating one. You only caught a quick glance at the blonde, but you noticed the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip. You didn’t know his story, but you knew your parents only saw him as a trouble-making Pogue, and his beat up face only made it better. Not to mention you were in the middle of the biggest party of the year. Your parents wouldn’t dare do anything to make a scene, not here. Sure, you’d be getting an earful at home later, but you were already basking in the pleasure of seeing them so utterly angry and not being able to show it.

“And what’s your name, young man?” your dad asked.

“JJ Maybank, sir.” You turned your gaze to the boy again, and he smiled charmingly at your parents. “I’ve heard lots about you both, from your lovely daughter here.” He suddenly turned to face you again, the same cute smile on his lips, and released your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist. Fuck, he’s doing a great job at playing along even though you dragged him into this mess that he had no business being in. You were loving every second of this.

The way your mom was struggling to keep her calm composure had laughter bubbling in your chest, but you kept your lips shut tight to hold it in. “JJ,” she said through clenched teeth. “Are you working the party?” As polite as she was trying to be, her distasteful glance at his work attire didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

JJ wasn’t disheartened by her question, and only smiled bigger. “Yes ma’am, I work at the Island Club for such events. I also deliver groceries and mow lawns. But don’t worry. I still make plenty of time to take Y/N out on dates and treat her like the princess she is.” You found his gaze once again, and you swear you could kiss him. He’s really milking this whole encounter with your parents and you promised yourself to thank him later.

“Oh, that’s nice,” your dad responded for your mother. She was practically seething underneath that perfect mask of hers, but your father looked quite uncomfortable as well. And here you thought Midsummers would be boring.

You listened in on the awkward conversation a few minutes more before you spoke up. “I’m glad you guys finally met, but we’re gonna go now. Enjoy the party!” You grinned one last time at your parents before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him away, leaving them to simmer in their shock and anger without you.

You had made it all the way to the other side of the dance floor before you burst out laughing. Giggles poured out of you loudly, and JJ couldn’t help but join in. You didn’t even care how awkward that whole situation was, you found it absolutely hilarious and you were happy to see that JJ seemed to think so too. “Thanks for playing along with that, man,” you smiled. “I totally owe you.”

JJ Maybank was confused to say the least. He caught on to your little plan and used his superb improv skills to play along, but he didn’t really know why. He’d never met you before, and couldn’t possibly figure out why you would claim him as your boyfriend. And though you two had never met, he knew exactly who you were. Everyone did. You were Y/N Y/L/N. Your parents were among the richest Kooks on the whole island, and you were their perfect Kook Princess. Why on earth would you ever tell them that he was your boyfriend? He was a low-life Pogue. None of it made any sense.

He wanted to ask you for an explanation, but he was too caught up in the moment with you. He had never seen you up close before, and had to admit he found you intriguingly beautiful. Your eyes gleaming as your whole face lit up, your dress showing off your nice figure and complimenting you perfectly, even the giggles escaping your lips screamed beauty. He had his mind made up about you, thinking you’re no different than every other rich girl on the island, but now he’s not so sure. From the moment you abruptly grabbed his hand, he could tell you didn’t give a fuck about anything. You seemed fun.

“Do you always try to freak your parents out like that?” he asked with a laugh.

You chuckled too with a nod. “Yeah. They’re too comfy in their dumb Kook lifestyle, so I like to scare them every once in a while.” You looked up at him with your pretty smile, and he could only smile back. Your words suddenly made him like being in your presence a whole lot more.

He watched as you messed with your flower crown, the flowers getting caught in your hair as you unceremoniously pulled it off of your head. “Stupid fucking flower crown...” you mumbled before tossing it off to the side on the ground. JJ laughed at your messed up hair, but reached his hands up to fix it for you. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like, which he found odd about you, but you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, patting down the wild strands.

You took this opportunity to really look at him. His blonde hair was messy and the locks fell over his forehead. The bruises marking his face did little to hide how attractive he was, the cut on his lip seemed to make him even more attractive to you. Even his work uniform was tattered and wrinkled, but he still managed to look good in it. He finished messing with your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear, eyes meeting yours, and neither of you could hide your curious smiles. “Thanks,” you hummed. He only nodded in response.

Your eyes wandered as you tried to figure out what to say, but you caught sight of Topper bounding down the staircase, his gaze searching through the party, probably for you. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and positioning him in front of you. You stepped closer to him as you peaked your head over his shoulder to keep your eyes on the Kook you ditched.

“Hiding from someone?” JJ asked, looking down at you with amusement.

You nodded. “Just the guy my parents tried to set me up with. I may or may not have ditched him,” you laughed sheepishly. Maybe you should’ve felt bad, but you didn’t.

JJ spared a glance over his shoulder. “Which one of these unlucky bastards was it?”

You giggled, still trying to hide your frame completely behind JJ. “Topper Thornton. Frosted Tips. Looks like a lost puppy.”

JJ laughed and you could practically feel the warm vibrations from his chest. His pretty eyes met yours again, and he surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist while his other hand found yours, bringing the pair of you into a waltz position. A smile tugged on your lips as you placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and you both began to sway.

JJ never pictured himself in this position before. Slow dancing with you, the Kook Princess of all people, at the Kookiest party of the year no less. He felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had ditched Topper and are instead dancing with him. Being this close to you, he found himself trying to memorize your features, the color of your eyes, the softness of your hand in his, and the enticing curve of your waist which he had the pleasure of holding onto.

“So,” JJ spoke softly. “What do you normally do when you’re not attending fancy parties and pissing off your parents?” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to find out more about you. You’re already quite different than what he made you out to be.

“Getting into more trouble,” you responded with a wink.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You shrugged. “Last month, I ran off to Cuba for a week without telling anyone.” You didn’t think it was a big deal, but you noticed the waves of surprise in JJ’s eyes. You giggled at his expression. “What about you? When you’re not serving drinks, delivering groceries, or mowing lawns,” you paused to admire the bruises on his face. “What do you do?”

“Get into trouble,” he laughed, shooting your words back at you.

You played along. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You don’t know when it happened, but you realized now that you guys were closer than before. Your chest was pressed into his, and his face was so close you could kiss him with the slightest lift onto your toes.

“Picking fights with your Kooky friends, usually,” he chuckled.

“If you’re referring to Topper and his goons, we’re not friends.” JJ’s lips lifted into a small smile at your words. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were about as fond of those assholes as he was.

You both were just staring at each other, choosing to put the small talk to rest and just enjoy the moment. JJ’s eyes never left yours as you brought both of your arms around his neck, leaving him to wrap his arms around your back, diminishing any space there was between your bodies. You thought he might’ve kissed you with the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found yours and he spun you around so that your back was against him, your arms crossed over your body as you continued to sway.

His lips hovered over your neck briefly, and you released a sigh, trying to remember the last time you felt so close to someone, so content and in the moment. Something about the boy holding you in his arms gave you butterflies, that warm and exciting feeling spreading through your veins. He suddenly released one of your hands and pushed you so that you were spinning away from him, but then caught you and pulled you back.

You giggled as he twirled you around the dance floor, pleasantly surprised at how good of a dancer he was. Staying hidden from Topper wasn’t even on your mind anymore. With his grip on both of your hands, you both spun around, making the other dancing patrons have to move out of the way. Your laugh bubbled louder, and you couldn’t care less about the other guests. JJ found himself laughing along with you, even though part of him still wondered why he was here, dancing and having fun with you.

After a moment, he pulled you back against him and you both fought to catch your breaths while the laughter died down. He admired your features again, and the question he’s been dying to ask finally escaped passed his lips. “How come you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?” He didn’t mean it to sound so insecure, he was rather genuinely curious.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion, your grin turning into a frown. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

He scoffed lightly. “Come on, Y/N. We’re from two different worlds.” His eyes wandered for a second, noticing the amount of eyes on the two of you, probably floored at the scene you guys had just made. “Everyone is watching. The Kook Princess dancing with a Pogue...” He didn’t mean to bring down the mood, but he couldn’t help it. He was used to being dismissed, used to being viewed as a disgusting Pogue that only got into trouble.

You brought your hands up to brush his hair away from his face, your bright smile returning. Your hands then cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing over his split lip. “I don’t give a fuck about these people.” JJ chuckled, feeling his spirits lift once again. Your fingers dragged down his neck and landed on his collar, which you straightened for him.

“You know,” you started, eyes fixed on the buttons of his white shirt. “I expected tonight to be the absolute worst, but I’m actually having an amazing time.” You peered up at him through your lashes, and JJ smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his usual flirty persona returning. “And why is that?”

You giggled, deciding to humor him. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my handsome fake boyfriend has some damn good dance moves,” you winked. Your chest became warm at the sound of JJ’s deep chuckle, his breath fanning over your face.

Among the many judgy looks the pair of you were getting, your parents were also watching from a nearby table. JJ noticed their burning glares, and an idea popped into his head. Gazing into your pretty eyes, he smirked with a nod of his head to the side. When you glanced over and was greeted with the sight of your very angry parents, a grin creeped onto your face. You were making quite the spectacle, but really, who cares? “Want to give them something to be really pissed about?” JJ asked.

You looked at him curiously, but nodded nonetheless. You were already thrilled with how the night was going, and wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He leaned forward and suddenly, his lips were on yours. Your surprise was soon washed away and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss, arching your back to press your chest into him.

His hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer as you both indulged in one another. His other large hand squeezed your hip, and you squealed softly against his lips. After a few more seconds, you pulled away from each other, gleaming smiles on your faces. Yeah, that sure made your parents fucking livid. Your mother had excused herself from the table they were sitting at, and your father followed after her, but you weren’t paying attention to them.

JJ had rested his palms on your cheeks, just looking at you, and he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Your hands gripped his wrists, and you felt sad for a moment, thinking about how JJ probably needs to get back to work. He needs to get back to his life, and you need to get back to yours. “I’ll see you around, JJ?” You held your breath, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

He kissed you once more, short and sweet, before pulling away again with a smirk. “Definitely.” And with that, he made his way back through the party and into the building while you watched, not being able to hide your giddy grin.

***

Pls let me know what you think :) love you all

Masterlist

***

Obx tags: @sportygal55 @jazbarnes05 @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles @little-miss-rebel3 @shreckluver7

JJ tags: @kaylinfayezink @unfortunatekiwitrash @shy-1234 @bijleegiregi @cheshirecat107 @yami5525 @folkloverr @dracoswhore007

#skiesofthesketchy #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj x reader #outer banks fic #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #jj x kook!reader #obx fic #obx imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #midsummers

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rason-rodd · 3 years

Text

Snowmen and Assassins - Older!Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: This is Y/N’s first Christmas among the League of Assassins but a monastery of deadly assassins is maybe not the right place to celebrate this winter tradition.

Author’s note: Bat-Christmas Day 12 ;-) Damian in this story is highly inspired by Batman beyond! Damian as he took his grandfather’s place as leader of the League of Assassins. And I will fight anyone who doesn’t believe Adult Damian will be the most devoted boyfriend to ever exist. (#assassinprincecharming)

Tagged: 100% Fluff

Sitting at the candlelit desk that used to belong to his grandfather, working on a personal project that could not wait, Damian Wayne could hear the unclear yet outraged groans and growls of his counsellor – whose name was Zeh-Ro - echoing outside of the door. He was clearly angry but it was nothing new or surprising. Lately, and especially since Damian’s reconciliation with his father and your arrival in the Himalayan monastery, the old white-haired man had taken the rude habit to question Damian’s every decision as leader of the League of Assassin in ways that were highly inappropriate for a man of his status. Of course this misplaced attitude was never welcomed or tolerated by the young leader, and each tantrums had all encountered either a stone-cold stoicism or a burning rage. A type of reaction Damian had inherited from his father, Bruce. “This is highly unacceptable!” Damian sighed, fully aware that his bodyguard, Koru, would not be able to prevent Zeh-Ro from entering his private quarters any longer. “Let me see him!” The heavy wooden door suddenly burst open, making all the soft dancing flames shudder, almost in panic, as if they were aware of the incoming wrath. “What is wrong, Zeh-Ro?” “This woman … This woman is a disgrace! How dares she?!” The red of his angry face was clashing with the whiteness of his dishevelled hair, a scarlet colour only Y/N and her light-hearted shenanigans could give him. “I’m sure whatever Y/N did it is not that terrible.” Damian declared with a discreet amused smirk. “Not that terrible? Not that terrible?” The old man repeated almost out of breath. “That woman has a knack of bringing shame to herself … and to ourselves … and to our cause. To you. She is a foreign child who knows nothing of our culture, nothing of our traditions. I said it before and I say it again. Her place is not here!” Damian put what he was doing in the drawer of his desk that he slammed almost violently and stood up. But not even his menacing eyes or his towering stature seemed to frighten Zeh-Ro who kept mumbling his anger at him. “Your grandfather would have never approved of her! The league does not approve of her! This silly infatuation needs to end and it needs to end now!” “No.” Zeh-ro eyes widened suddenly. He had expected more that a single word. He had expected more consideration, even more anger. “No?” Damian didn’t bother to repeat and smoothly close the gap between him and his counsellor in an attempt to establish his undeniable authority on him. “And from now on I would not tolerate you interfere in my privacy. My love life is none of your concern Zeh-ro, nor is Y/N.” “But she…” Damian cut him short, tired of hearing and seeing the man. “I will hear no more. Now leave.” Fortunately, he beat a retreat and exited the room while muttering insults in Arabic that Damian chose to ignore. He had other matters to take care of. Only when the man finally was out of sight, did the leader of the league choose to relax and lose his aggressive austerity. “Will he ever learn?” He asked Koru who almost allowed himself to smile. “I’m afraid not, master.” Damian sighed again and put on his long green kimono that he carelessly knotted around his strong waist. “What has Y/N done again?” “ I believe it is better for you to see it, master.”

***

In spite of the cashmere gloves you were wearing, your hands were red and freezing just as your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Unsurprising since you had been spending the afternoon playing in the snow with the few children of the league who had been bold enough to follow you in your shenanigans. Not that it had been your goal all along. In fact, you had never thought about asking anyone to follow you in your “Not so top-secret Christmas mission ” as you had named it when the little rascals had found you baking Christmas cookies in the kitchen this morning and curiously asked what you were up to. Before that, you had just planned to bake for your lover and decorate a Christmas tree in your shared quarters, away from prying eyes, perfectly aware of the fuss your silly little actions would cause if anyone caught you trying to celebrate Christmas. But then, the children had simply said, “We’ve never celebrated Christmas.” with their little eyes shining with sadness.

And so here you were. Building snowmen right under the noses of mighty assassins glaring at you as if you were committing the most awful crime in the world. Their reactions had hurt you at first, just as many other things they had done – or hadn’t done- since your arrival in the monastery in spite of all your relentless attempts at fitting in. But then you had realised that they should not matter and that you should focus only on the magic, on the happiness of the children by your side occasionally fighting with snowballs and acting - maybe for the first time of their life - as who they truly were, kids.

“Beloved?” You slightly jumped and dropped the small little stone carefully chosen to be the left eye of your snowman on the ground. “Damian.” You didn’t know how to react. Usually, Damian was always there to defend you, finding excuses to all the times your attitude wasn’t appreciated or approved by the league. But there was a difference between forgetting to remove your shoes at the entrance of Ra’s Al Ghul’s temple and celebrating an occidental tradition in a monastery of assassins. Maybe had you gone too far this time. “What are you doing?” “Look… I know this looks bad. But it’s my first winter here, my first Christmas away from my family and I thought …” “That you could celebrate it here.” He looked so serious you couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or if he simply was tired of you not being “the right paramour” for him – a term Damian’s counsellor had spit to your face quite a few times. “I get that I might have gone too far this time. I can stop if that’s what you want.”

Damian knelt to pick the little black stone you had dropped and suddenly, much to your surprise and to those around you, placed it on your snowman’s face. “By all means, continue.” And with a gentle timid smile, he turned around to where he came from. You blinked quite a couple of times; unable to believe what you had just seen or to demonstrate all the happiness this small action had given you. But then you gasped as a huge snowball hit Damian right in the back of his head. “God damn …” He cursed more out of surprise than out of pain and turned back around with a glare you had never seen. Your eyes widened and you looked at the terrorised children who were all pointing at the culprit. Guess boldness and courage had their limits. “How dare you throw a snowball at the Demon’s Head? And behind his back?” He growled, definitely angry and the poor children looked down, petrified. “I guess someone has to teach you how to play fairly.”

And then a snowball hit your shoulder, making you scream loudly. “Ahhh” But then you saw that Damian was laughing like you had never heard him laugh before. And goodness, how contagious it was. “You’re going to pay for this!” You harrumphed trying to remove the snow from inside your coat. “Choose your partners, kids. This battle is to death.”

***

“I let you win.” Damian declared as he removed his thick leather boots once in your quarters. “Plus you had better partners. Mine were all incompetent. I scored all the points myself.” “Of course, Dami. Of Course.” You smiled and removed your wool coat to place it by the fireplace where you chose to stay a little to enjoy its welcome warmth after this cold afternoon outside. “You know. You’re starting to show, beloved.” Damian said as he approached you to lovingly hug you from behind and kiss your neck, his strong hands on your slightly round belly that were keep a four-months little secret no one knew about yet. “Yeah. We won’t be able to keep hiding it for too long.” You put your hands on Damian’s, adoring his sudden proximity and his devotion to you and to your little one growing inside of you. “I guess that’s gonna make some people boil over.” “Who cares?” He kissed your temple and let his soft lips remain on your skin just to smell its perfume. You let go in his embrace, wondering how this loving man could be the leader of such a deadly organisation. Speaking of deadly organisation … “By the way, thank you for this afternoon, for defending me again. I know it often undermines you especially in Zeh-Ro’s eyes.” You heard Damian sigh and tense a little before turning you around to face him. “Beloved, when will you realise I do not care about what Zeh-Ro thinks, about what anyone thinks? I’m happy to defend you. At least it shows them that I am not my grandfather and that they can’t expect me to be him.” “ But …” You tried to protest and he gestured you to be quiet with a finger on your lips. “No buts. I love all the things you do here. I love all the love you bring to this place, to me. And I want out child to experience it. I don’t want him to live the joyless loveless childhood I lived.” You smiled at his words but your eyes reflected the sadness he had in his. You knew about his past, about Talia and Ra’s and all the things they made him go through, the exhausting relentless and abusive trainings and the heavy burden they had placed on his young shoulders when he was just a little boy. And so you cupped his cheek and softly kissed him in on tiptoe, keeping his broad body against yours that seemed so tiny and fragile in comparison to his. Though, the most fragile person in this room right now was him. “I have something for you, beloved.” Damian said as he slowly let go of you for a moment to take something he had left in his desk. “I hope you’ll like it.”

You slightly shook the box he had just given you, curious to know what’s inside. “You know it’s not Christmas yet.” “I know. It’s not really a Christmas gift” You narrowed your eyes trying to read in his what he was hiding from you. “Just open it.” He chuckled and you grinned, your hands already tearing the wrapping up. It was a wooden small box. “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you?” You asked cheekily and Damian laughed. “Not yet.” He smirked but you chose to ignore it for now, too excited to know what was in the box.

It was a beautiful Christmas tree star, certainly made of crystal judging by how fragile and translucent it looked, and definitely very ancient. “Damian, it’s beautiful.” “You like it?” “I love it!” You corrected as you delicately touched it with your fingertips. “Good. Cause there’s a Christmas tree in the main hall that is waiting for it.” He looked at your eyes brighten instantly and as beautifully and brightly as the star you were holding, glad he could finally make you feel at home as much as you could make him feel at home. “Merry Christmas, beloved.” “Merry Christmas, Damian.” Merry Christmas, indeed.

#Damian Wayne #older! damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older damian wayne x reader #one shot #bat-christmas

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starrynite7114 · 3 years

Text

wrapping (angel reyes)

A/N: Three days till Christmas! How were finals for you all? Christmas shopping all done? I just have two more people on my list and I should be good to go. This year has been tolling, but I’m glad it is almost over. I wanted to let you all know that you’ve made this extremely difficult year so much more bearable. I hope I was able to help some especially with quarantine and all. It’s been tolling on us all but I want to let you all know that we’ve got this and you’re not alone. Please don’t ever hesitate to message me for anything, silly jokes, conversations, etc.

I’m going to post mostly holiday stories till after Christmas. I will update Roommates and the EZ request will be posted! I know I don’t update as quick as I should, but I’m trying! <3

Hope you all enjoy this story!

Shoutout: This is for @blackmissfrizzle! I still owe her one more for her birthday, but we were shooting the shit as we always do, being one another’s second brain and this idea popped up as I was struggling with wrapping Christmas presents. To my second brain, I love you, do not know how we got as close as we did, I am forever thankful. You are evil, but I love nonetheless.

Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

Word count: 2171

Warnings: Fluff, mild sexual situation (hand job, fingering), Does Angel count as a warning?

CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL GIF MAKER!

“Angel, stop,” you groaned as you felt Angel leave another mark on your skin.

He smirked against your skin, placing a kiss on the spot he just bit. “What?” His voice sounded gravely, you two had just woken up.

“Did you not leave enough bites last night?” Well, this morning, but it counted as last night since you two started last night.

“Can never get enough bites in baby.” He chuckled.

Turning you to face him, Angel kissed you. It started with a few pecks, before he slipped his tongue in, slow and sensual as always. He moved on top of you, your lips never parting, intertwining your hands beside your head.

“Te quiero mucho mi vida,” Angel whispered against your lips before he slipped his tongue inside your mouth again. You felt his hardened member against your leg. Reaching down to wrap your hand around his hardened member, you moved your hand up and down his cock causing Angel to groan. “Fuck baby, just like that. Can’t wait to be buried inside you again.” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, slipping his fingers inside.

You moaned, widening your legs. Angel removed your hand from his cock, moving so he can slide inside you. Just as he was about to, his phone rang, making Angel groan. He buried his face at the crook of your neck as he grabbed his phone.

“What’s up?” He answered. “Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty.” He hung up, placing his phone on the bedside drawer. “You think we can get a quickie done in ten minutes?”

You laughed and pushed away from Angel. “Have you met you? There’s no way baby.” You slipped on your discarded panties and his shirt. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

Preparing a quick breakfast for Angel, you made coffee just like how he liked it, with no sweetener or anything. You were cooking some eggs, bacon and a patty for his sandwich.

“Only psycho’s drink their coffee black.” You commented, shaking your head.

“I’m your psychopath though.” Angel grabbed the coffee cup and dropped a kiss on your lips. “Besides, that's how pops drink it.” He took a sip, the bitterness was not something he could get used to, but it woke him up. “What you got planned today?”

“I have to finish up some christmas shopping, but otherwise, I have to wrap presents.”

Angel almost choked on his coffee and tried his best not to laugh. “Baby, we have a deal. You shop, I wrap. It’s better this way.”

“Yes, but we made a deal yesterday remember?” You pouted, wrapping your arms around Angel.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Hard to forget baby, especially when your lips were wrapped around my dick.”

“You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“Ain’t no shame baby.”

You laughed. “Of course not, why would you?” You handed him the quick breakfast sandwich you made. “You’ve been busy with the club, I got this.”

Angel doubted that, but he loves you and he supported you no matter what you wanted to do. “If you need me, I’m a call away.”

“Are you going across the border today?”

“No, just templo and a shift at the yard. Then I’m all yours. We still doing a movie marathon?” Angel scruffed down the sandwich you made for him as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, are Coco, Letty and Gilly still coming over?”

“Baby, we’ve had them over the last three nights, we can enjoy one night to ourselves.” Angel drank the rest of his coffee and threw the paper towel that once held his sandwich. “I’ll cook dinner and you pick the movies.”

“Cook? Baby, you can’t cook.”

“Alright, I’ll order take out and I can fuck you on the kitchen table while we wait.”

“Angel!” You threw a piece of bread at him which he caught and ate.

He laughed and kissed you again. “Okay, we can fuck in bed whichever one, regardless, that ass is mine tonight. Te queiro.”

“Love you too.”

Wrapping presents shouldn’t be hard.

But there was no shame of paying professionals to do it either.

This year, you promised yourself that you would wrap the Christmas presents. That for once, you could wrap the presents and learn how to do it.

God bless YouTube University.

You watched videos, practiced with various items so when the time came, you could wrap the presents.

The time came and yet again, it was a fail.

You looked at the Christmas wrappers scattered on your living room floor as you wrapped one of Angel’s several gifts. You and Angel have been dating for three years now and he knew your peril with wrapping gifts. So every Christmas the tasks were always the same. You bought the gifts, Angel wrapped the presents. But with the club being busier this year, you told your boyfriend that you had everything handled. He gave you a look, but you assured him with a smile and a blowjob.

You had your tongue sticking out at the side of your mouth, taping the Christmas wrapper together and yet again, you didn’t measure correctly and it was disproportionate.

“This is hopeless. How is Angel so good at this?” You laid your forehead against the coffee table in front of you. With every failed attempt, the more you regretted not going to the mall and had the professionals wrap your presents. But you had to push through. This Christmas was all you and you didn’t want Angel to lift a finger.

You continued to wrap presents, adding strips of wrapping paper for certain presents that you didn’t measure out correctly. The presents didn’t look bad necessarily, but you just wished they looked better.

You placed all of Angel’s presents under the Christmas tree and went to get the rest of the presents you have yet to wrap. You had at least ten more presents to wrap and it was slightly becoming daunting for you. Presents shouldn’t be hard to wrap and honestly, you were using the mall gift wrappers next year. You went into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and finish the rest of these presents. Looking at your watch, it was fifteen minutes to six. Angel should be home in an hour or so.

Sitting back down with your hot chocolate instead of water, you placed Coco’s present on the coffee table to begin wrapping it. As you were busying yourself with that, Angel came in through the backdoor wanting to surprise you. He left his bike at the clubhouse since Bishop gave him the day off tomorrow. EZ had dropped him off so that he could surprise you. He had the takeout in one hand and your favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the street from the clubhouse.

He placed the food in the kitchen and quietly made his way to the living room where he knew you would be. He heard a train of expletives come out from your mouth and he had to hold back laughter. Peeking into the living room, he saw you with various pieces of christmas wrappers around you, highly concentrated on wrapping a gift on the coffee table. You were trying to fold the top of the present, looking at the gift before you with frustration.

“Cut the top so you can fold it better,” he heard you tell yourself. “Okay, how do I know how much to cut?” You let out a groan. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to the mall tomorrow and have the experts do it.”

“Or you can just let me do it like we always do.”

You yelled, your hot chocolate spilling all over you. “Angel!”

“Baby!” He quickly made his way over to you with paper towels, handing it to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, what the hell, I didn’t even hear your bike.”

“EZ dropped me off, wanted to surprise you.” Angel took off your shirt. “You should change.”

“Yeah? You think?” You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him.

You took a quick shower and came back out, finding Angel wrapping the rest of the presents. You sat beside him and he had hot chocolate waiting for you. “How are you so good at wrapping presents? You literally wrapped five in twenty minutes.”

Angel shrugged. “My mom and I used to wrap presents for the whole family. It was our thing up till she passed.”

You gave him a small smile and wrapped your hand around his. “So it was tradition?”

“Of some sorts, I would help her with wrapping the presents and she would tell me all these stories about my tio’s and tia’s, about her and my father.” Angel smiled fondly of the memories he shared with his mother. No one could wrap presents with them, it was for him and her, their bonding time. He continued to wrap presents every once in a while, but he didn’t do it traditionally like before, till he met you.

“Maybe we can start our own tradition? You can teach me how to wrap presents and this could be our thing.” You paused. You shouldn’t have said that, the last thing you wanted to do was impose on Angel’s memories of his mother. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay.” Angel turned to you and kissed your cheek. “I haven’t done this since my mom passed, it's nice to share this tradition with the most important person in my life.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes, Angel’s words making your heart swell. “I love you.”

“I love you more baby.” He smiled. His smile was so warm. You knew he was a tough guy, but when he was with you, he didn’t need to have to hide behind that exterior. “Do me a favor, can you grab the gift I got for pops? It’s in the drawer on my side of the bed.”

“Sure.”

You did as he asked and brought the gift over to him. It was in a velvet box and you couldn’t help but think what it could possibly be? Felipe hardly wore jewelry, but made Angel got home some to commemorate Marisol.

“Here babe.” You offered the box to him.

Angel took it and thanked you. The nerves began to set in for him, but he had to do it, he had this.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face you and you were standing, watching the baking show you had on before he came. He wasn’t sure when it clicked for him exactly, but a year ago, during the holiday season, he came to your apartment and found you watching some cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and Letty was with you. You had looked up at him and smiled, patting the seat beside you. He realized then that he wanted to have this every holiday, every day for the rest of his life.

He wanted to come home to a home you two shared with your kids surrounding you.

He wanted to come home to you during a hard day and just be enveloped in your warmth.

He wanted to make new traditions with you and do it every year just as he did with his family.

You were his family now.

“Y/N,” he softly called out your name.

“Yeah baby?” You turned to face Angel and found him on one knee with the velvet box opened, showing you a beautiful diamond ring.

“When we first met, I never thought we would get this far. If anything, I thought you would come to your senses and not give me a second or third date, but you have no idea how happy I was you did. I hardly ever win, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter since my biggest victory is you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and make new traditions with you.” You began to cry along with Angel as he took your hand. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I love you, and there’s no one else I rather watch cheesy Hallmark movies with than you.”

You managed to laugh between your tears and nodded your head. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Angel smiled brightly as he took the ring off and slipped it in your finger. He stood up and kissed you, wrapping his arms around you.

Pulling away, you looked at your ring and kissed him again. Life was hardly perfect with Angel, but you didn’t want that. You want all the imperfections you two had because at the end of the day, much like your divided task with Christmas, you two completed one another. Where one lacked, the other picked up.

And that’s what it was all about. You bettered one another.

Angel was your better half.

No questions about it.

“We really gotta teach you how to wrap mami, cause I can’t wrap every damn present.”

You laughed. “We better get started then.”

=================

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @anangelwhodidntfall : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespancakes : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @onmyspookysblock : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @un-poetryy : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen : @60shannon : @deeandbobbymcgee : @marquelapage : @justlikebreathing : @mindless-x-dreaming : @thesewordsareallihavetogive : @wiccanmetallicrose : @appropriate-writers-name : @likedovesinthewnd : @admirehermind : @krysiewithak : @helli4nthus : @robbosvgdens : @scuzmunkie : @proudlittlewitchbitch

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #angelreyes #angel reyes x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic

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lost-in-the-80s · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x (fem) reader

Words: 2,373k

Requested by: anon

Summary: It's your first Christmas with Izzy and he gives you the best gift ever. (smut + fluff)

A/N: I didn’t have intentions of doing the requests this year, but I had to do this one. I hope you guys like it! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! :)

Warnings: Mature content, swearing, some kinky stuff (handcuffs) and unprotected sex (use a condom, guys).

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @metalupyourash add yourself to my tag list :)

It was the Christmas of 1986, even though there was no snow, the Christmas atmosphere had taken over Los Angeles.

Streets and shops had been decorated with countless lights and themed decorations. The houses had their Christmas trees, full of colored balls, among other ornaments.

Your apartment had not been left out of the Christmas spirit. You and your brother, Joey, had spent the month decorating every detail. The entrance carpet had been replaced by one with a reindeer-drawn, with the phrase "Merry Christmas" in red. In the living room, a huge Christmas tree was prepared, filled with red and white balls, your favorite colors, before being filled by countless bright lights.

You and Joey lived away from your family, so you almost always ended up spending Christmas just the two of you. It was simple, but it was almost a tradition, after all, you lived there for several years already.

But this year was different, Joey had been invited to spend Christmas in Northern California, at the home of his boyfriend's parents. He was afraid to leave you alone, but you assured him that Izzy, your boyfriend, would spend the night with you.

Izzy was never a Christmas guy, he found the celebration meaningless and celebrated only for the profits of the trade. Since moving to Los Angeles, he had never celebrated Christmas.

But he knew that you loved the date, you had talked about your plans for Christmas since the beginning of November and he already kind of expected you to invite him.

You were together for just over six months, you had met at the guitar store where you work and ended up dating right afterward.

When you mentioned that your brother would not be present and that you wanted him to come and have supper with you, he said he needed to think.

Izzy wanted to tell you that he saw no need to spend Christmas together and that he was just going to stay home with the boys. Or some of the boys, since Duff would return to Seattle and Slash would spend it with his mother.

It would just be him, Axl and Steven, drinking and using heroin while a tower of beer bottles made by Duff, graced the house in the absence of a Christmas tree.

But you were important to him, and Christmas was important to you. So he decided to put aside his dislike for the date and make an effort for you.

That same night he called you, saying he agreed with one condition: No expensive gifts. You quickly agreed, you were never one of the materialistic types, and to be honest, spending the date with Izzy was worth more than any gift he could buy you.

Izzy arrived at your apartment in the middle of the afternoon on the 24th, bringing a bottle of wine for dinner and placing his gifts under the Christmas tree.

You spent the rest of the afternoon watching Christmas movies, your favorite ones. Movies that you had seen hundreds of times and knew all the lines by heart.

You could see that Izzy was bored, but he never complained, mostly because he loved to see you laughing with those silly films, or the way you said "this is my favorite part" before some cliché scene goes on TV.

When night came, you went to the kitchen, preparing pork with potatoes and rosemary and putting it in the oven for supper.

You positioned yourself in front of the sink, starting to wash the pieces that had been used during the day when Izzy hugged you from behind. His hands circled your body as he spoke next to your ear:

"I'll take care of the dishes. Why don't you take a shower?" He kissed your neck. "I know you want to change for supper."

He knew you so well, he knew you would wear something fancier, even if it was just the two of you, having dinner at home.

Following his advice, you went to the bathroom, staying in the bathtub for long minutes, feeling the warmth of the water against your skin as you murmured a song.

When the water cooled, you got up, wrapping the towel around your body and looking for what to wear in your closet. Your red strapless dress was the winner, choosing red lace panties to match, you got dressed quickly, before getting your hair done and putting on perfume.

Entering the kitchen, you could smell the pork, Izzy had already set the table and was waiting for you.

"You look beautiful." He kissed your cheek, guiding you to the table.

"Thank you, Iz."

The two of you ate calmly while you told him countless Christmas stories you had with your brother and from the time when you still spent Christmas with your family.

When you finished eating, you went to the living room, Izzy sat on the couch while you took his gift from under the tree.

"Open it." You said smiling.

Izzy took the package from your hand, opening it slowly, smiling when he saw it was a book.

"I know you wanted to read this one." You smiled.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I love it." He kissed your lips lightly, before getting up to pick up your gifts.

"I couldn't make up my mind so I bought two." He laughed lightly, as he sat beside you with two small boxes in his hand.

"Open this one first." He handed you a blue box with a white ribbon.

Gently opening the box, you smiled when you saw a gold necklace with your initial letter inside.

"Izzy, it's beautiful! I loved it!" You kissed his lips, but he pulled away before you could deepen the kiss.

"Don't forget that you have one more." He smiled, handing a red box, slightly larger than the previous one.

Smiling excitedly, you undid the golden bow and opened the box, your mouth parting when you saw what was inside.

Inside the box was a pair of handcuffs with a key.

"Izzy…" you looked at him and saw his smile become a smirk.

"I thought we could have some fun ... what do you think?"

"I…." You didn't know what to say, you had never used handcuffs before, and even though you and Izzy had had sex several times, you had never used anything like that.

"What do you say, Y/N? Would you let me handcuff you?" His voice was hoarse, as he ran his fingers down your face, running his thumb slowly over your lips.

Thinking for a few seconds you concluded that the idea seemed interesting.

So you nodded before saying. "Yes."

Getting up, Izzy offered his hand to help you do the same, he walked slowly, guiding you to your room before stopping for a second and looking you in the eye.

"If you don't feel comfortable anymore, say stop and I will stop and uncuff you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Izzy." His seriousness made your core start to get wet. You loved how serious he was when you did that.

He kissed you passionately, his hands held your face while you found the strands of his hair.

Walking away after a few minutes, Izzy instructed you to stay where you were as he walked around you.

Standing with your back to him, you felt his breath against your skin and you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He pulled your hair aside and slowly unzipped your dress, letting the garment fall to the floor.

Izzy kissed some spots on your back, before whispering in your ear. "Get on the bed, love."

Obeying, you walked slowly over to the bed, lying on your back while keeping your eyes fixed on his.

He climbed onto the bed, placing one knee on either side of your body, he gently grabbed your wrists, hooking the cuff on one and passing the chain through the headboard before securing the other.

Izzy slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, keeping his gaze fixed on you and smirking when he realized that your gaze was fixed on his abdomen.

"Do you like what you see, Y/N?"

You nodded, smiling when he leaned over to steal a kiss from you.

One hand held your face while the other traveled your body, feeling every inch of your skin. He lightly squeezed one of your nipples, making you let out a small moan, muffled by the kiss, which guaranteed the space he needed for his tongue to invade your mouth and start an aggressive dance against yours.

Izzy pulled away from your lips, kissing the full length of your chest until he reached the bottom of your panties. Kissing your core over the lace fabric. You tried to move your hands, but the handcuffs held you in place, making Izzy smile victoriously.

"In a hurry, Y/N?" He laughed lightly, running his cold fingers down the length of your leg, making a shiver take a hold of your body.

He slowly removed the piece from you, throwing it on the floor to keep your dress company.

Holding one of her legs, Izzy kissed the top of your foot, then your ankles, until he started to apply kisses on the inside of your thigh, making you try to move your hands again.

Licking your folds slowly, he found your clit, making alternating movements over it. His tongue was fast and precise, he certainly didn't want you to wait for his member to cum.

"Izzy." You whispered his name.

He then inserted a finger inside you, making a moan leave your lips.

"You’re a big girl already, I think you can take two." Izzy said smiling, before turning his lips to already clit and penetrating you with one more finger.

His fingers crossed inside you, hitting your G spot in just a few seconds, making a loud moan leave your lips as your back arched.

After a few minutes you were already a mess, your wrists started to hurt with the countless times you had tried to loosen up to tug at his hair, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure you were having.

Izzy kept his head trapped against your core, making it his mission to see you cum like this, and if he continued like this, he would be able to complete his task quickly, as your moans were becoming disconnected and your legs retracted against him every few seconds.

And then you came, with one of Izzy's hands clasping your breast and the other partly inside of you, while his tongue acted deftly with circular movements on your clit.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed loudly enough to fill the room and the corridor, your back arched and your eyes rolled as your legs pressed against him strongly.

"It's actually Izzy, but you can call me God too." He laughed, removing his head from between your legs and slowly removing his fingers from you, seeing your liquids drip slightly.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them slowly. "Better than dessert." He whispered, kissing your lips once more, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

Getting up, Izzy quickly removed his pants and underwear, stroking his member a few times before getting on the bed and stopping between your legs.

“Now tell me, Y/N. Have you been a good girl?”

You nodded quickly.

"Very well, I believe you." He adjusted his member with your entrance, slowly penetrating you.

The present sensitivity thanks to your orgasm, making a small moan leave your lips.

Izzy started moving, in and out of you, keeping his eyes fixed on yours, while creating a slow, passionate rhythm. He leaned over, kissing your lips once more, as his hands traveled through your curves.

"Izzy." You whispered, closing your eyes, making a moan leave his lips.

"Ah, fuck."

Speeding up his movements, Izzy hit your so-called G-spot, again that night, his fingers tightened firmly on your waist, keeping your body still as he moved faster and faster into you.

"Ah, Izzy." Your moans were so loud that you were almost sure your next-door neighbor could hear them.

His thrusts were slowing down as sweat washed over his forehead and much of his body.

Lying in bed, you were experiencing a completely new sensation, seeing Izzy giving you so much pleasure and not being able to touch him, no matter how torturous it was, that turned you on even more.

Your hands gripped the headboard bars tightly while your head fell back with a loud moan.

Your walls were tightening, Izzy could tell, he was almost there too, you knew that because of the focused look on his face, which he always acquired when he was about to come and wanted to make sure that you did too.

"You are so fucking beautiful!" He groaned, moving his lips to your neck, kissing and biting your skin.

"Izzy... I'm going to…." You were unable to finish the sentence when a moan came out of your throat.

"I know, baby …. me too." He managed to speak between breaths.

A few seconds later your legs started to shake and your walls tightened even more, his name left your mouth over and over as you closed your eyes feeling the pleasure consuming you.

Seeing you in that state, released Izzy to his own climax, growling hoarsely as jets of his cum entered you, mixing themselves with your liquids.

"Holy shit." He collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.

After a few seconds, he stood up, slowly removing his member from you while admiring the mess he had made.

"You know, I think I'm starting to like Christmas." He laughed before cleaning the two of you and putting on his underwear.

Getting on the bed again, he released one wrist at a time, kissing the place gently. "Are you alright?" He asked, putting a stir of your hair behind your ear.

"Yes." You managed to say it in a weak voice. You were tired.

"Come here." Lying on the bed, Izzy pulled you to lie on his chest, covering you both with a blanket and kissing your head lightly, stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

#harley writes #Izzy Stradlin #izzy stradlin fanfic #izzy stradlin imagine #izzy stradlin fic #izzy stradlin x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fic #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #gnr #gnr imagine #classic rock #classic rock imagine #izzy stradlin smut

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lastwagontrainhopper · 3 years

Text

A guiding hand

Royai week day 2 - Serene (let’s collectively ignore how late I am posting this ok thaaaanks)

Summary: “She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke again, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ” ”

---

The Colonel and his Lieutenant share a late-night conversation. (Blind!Roy)

Words: 2489

Tags: Blind Roy Mustang, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant

read on aot

“They had left their windows wide open, letting in a soft breeze to relieve them from the heavy summer heat. The curtains were rising and falling without a sound, fluttering in the air like ghosts. Even the streets around the house were quiet at that hour; the only thing that broke the stillness of the night was Riza's voice.

"As for Senator Harn's wife, she was wearing a very elegant apricot-colored dress. With her signature high hairdo, of course.”

Their blankets had long been kicked away to the bottom of the bed in a messy pile. Roy was lying on his back, facing to the ceiling, one hand playing idly with a lock of Riza's hair.

"Apricot?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "That's the yellow with a touch of pink, right?”

"That was pretty much it, yes." Riza was lying on her side, her head against her hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. The room was covered in shadows, but the flickering lights from the window on the street allowed her to see the outline of Roy's face.

"And you said Harn had a royal blue jacket...That must have made for an odd contrast.”

Riza smirked. "Yes, that's what several people seemed to think. It looked as if the General and his wife had not consulted with one another before coming to the gala.”

A sly smile spread across Roy’s face. "Ha! And you just know the rumors about their marriage are already flying high. It's sort of ironic, considering how Harn is constantly babbling to the Parliament about the “traditional family” and the “sanctity of marriage” and whatnot." His hand came to lightly circle Riza's wrist, his thumb tapping the back of her hand. "I’m sure you now understand how crucial fashion is in Central. It's not just a matter of taste: it's inherently political.”

"Sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Anyway. The Harns didn't capture the guests' attention that long, since the buffet was brought shortly after.”

Roy hummed appreciated. "And that was a good one. I've rarely tasted crab this delicious.”

"Yes, and they must have put as much effort into the presentation as in the cooking, because the set-up was magnificent. Everything was served on glittering silver plates, which reflected the glow of the chandeliers. On each table, the dishes were arranged in a sort of pyramid, culminating with the piece of meat or seafood. It looked extremely fragile, like...like some sort of house of cards, or crystal architecture, defying gravity - but they all stood the evening without crashing down. It was breathtaking.”

This had become the most constant part of their day. Almost every night, as they lay in bed before going to sleep, Riza would describe to Roy a long list of the things he hadn’t been able to see during the day. When they had first started this habit, as they were working on the the reconstruction of Ishval, Riza's descriptions had been much more pragmatic, like a mission report: which building seemed in need of repair? Which tribal leader looked unsatisfied during their morning meeting? She did her best to give him this information as the day went by, but there were always important details that she missed.

As the years had passed and the two had distanced themselves from the military, Riza's description had slowly become more lyrical. She began to tell him about beautiful sights that he was missing – a particularly colorful sunset, or the way the city lights looked at night. As time went by, she started to enjoy these conversations and more more, and they became increasingly long. It got to the point where, as Riza saw something pretty during the day, she found herself immediately thinking of the way she would describe it to Roy later at night.

"You should try to write a book," he had told her once. "You're so good at this - I can picture in my mind everything that you're telling me about like I was seeing it."

"It wouldn't be the same," she had answered, shaking her head. "I like hearing your reactions."

He had arched his eyebrows, smirking. "And yet you scold me every time I interrupt you.”

"Stop being overdramatic,” she had retorted. “Now let me continue." They had left it at that.

Sometimes Riza would rest her head on his chest as she went on with her stories. This was what Roy preferred. Ever since losing his eyesight, he had grown much fonder of physical contact, even casual, with her - after all, it was the surest way he could know that she was by his side. But Riza liked to remain slightly further, just next to him, so that she would be able to observe him during their late-night conversation. His face would take on such a special expression at those times, almost peaceful, or...serene.

Serene. That would have been the last word anyone would have chosen to describe Roy under normal circumstances. Despite his reputation as a slacker, he was a man that was constantly busy thinking about one thing or another, pondering, planning his next ploy – or his next date with a certain Lieutenant. His eyes in particular had always betrayed the constant working of his mind: they were restless, always darting around the room to study the people they were talking to, noticing details in their postures, noting suspicious movements out of the corner of his eye.

And, Riza knew it well, even the moments of rest didn’t bring Roy much serenity. More often than not, his sleep was plagued by violent nightmares that would wake him screaming in the middle of the night - or at least, that tensed and distorted his expression as he slept.

This had not changed since the Promised Day. But since Roy’s fight in the underground of Central, his blind eyes had lost their piercing look and had taken on a milky appearance. In the first few weeks, Riza had hated meeting that blank stare - it reminded her too much of what his eyes used to look like, as well as symbolizing her failure as a bodyguard.

But eventually, she had come to see a certain beauty in them, and in the calmness they brought to Roy's expression. He was still as expressive as ever, with his trademark crooked smile and taunting eyebrows. But in the evening, when they were alone together, his face truly relaxed. As Riza described the day's events to him, he would focus entirely on her voice, letting his mind recreate the image she was painting. His eyebrows would loosen and his forehead became smooth, free of its usual furrow; his mouth would fall half-open. At this particular moment, Roy took on a serene expression that Riza had never seen on him before, and she never got tired of looking at it.

"I need to tell you, unfortunately," Riza broke the silence that had settled, "that you were not the best-dressed man at the reception.”

Roy propped himself up on his elbows, frowning with surprise. So much for serenity.

"What? Who was?”

“You’re not going to be happy about this,” Riza said, trying to hide the small smile in her voice. "But Colonel Birks made quite an impression. He wore a rather daring suit, made of a black fabric from which red velvet patterns stood out.”

Roy huffed with indignation. "Velvet! Nonsense. He obviously can’t stop pushing the boundaries of extravagance – and of bad taste.”

"I don't know," Riza said evasively. “I thought it was pretty elegant…and I wasn't the only one.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "Outdressing the president should be considered insubordination," he muttered under his breath. "I'll call Ms. Zhao tomorrow. I need something more avant-garde for the next gala. Maybe with some silk mixed in with a cotton suit?”

He lay down again on the bed and raised his arm, inviting her to come closer. Riza moved to nestle up against him, putting her head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest. Roy wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her hair. Whenever he did that, his breaths would tickle Riza's neck, making her giggle; she would always pretend to be annoyed but it, but they both knew better.

After a moment, Roy tucked some of her hair away from her face. He brought his lips close to her ear. "Tell me again what you were wearing."

Riza felt a shiver go down her spine. That deep voice that Roy used when he whispered always got a reaction out of her, no matter what cliché or silly thing he would say.

A wry smile crossed her lips. "At this point, you know my wardrobe better than I do, Roy. ”

"I know," he answered, unabashed. "But I like hearing you describe it."

Riza chuckled. “Well,” she began, “I was wearing the flowy emerald green skirt that Rebecca got me for Christmas, a brown leather belt, and my white blouse. The one with the embroidery on the collar. ”

He hummed in appreciation. "With your golden high heels, I'm guessing."

"With my golden high heels," she nodded, "because even though my feet are killing by the end of the night when I wear them, they do really go well with that skirt." Her hand started to play with the ring that Roy wore as a necklace. "I didn't put much makeup on because of how humid the weather was. But I did wear my bright red lipstick."

She felt his cheeky smile even before he spoke. "I can recognize it by taste, now."

If they weren’t pressed so close together, she would have dug her elbow into his ribs. She rolled her eyes instead. "I also had my gold bracelet to go with the shoes, and the earrings you bought me to complete it all. What else...my hair was in a bun, and, of course, I had my necklace."

She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or a joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ”

Riza felt her smile drop. A lump appeared in her throat. Roy rarely complained about his blindness; even in the months following the Promised Day, he had adapted to his new lifestyle with impressive resilience. At first, it seemed as if his disability had affected his Lieutenant, plagued by guilt, more than himself. Still, Riza knew that he must have carried a lot of silent regrets through the years. There was so much Roy had had to give up, so many compromises he had had to reluctantly accept on his plan to reform Amestris – and on his personal life.

Riza disentangled herself gently from his grasp and straighten up, half sitting, to observe him. One of his arms was folded under his head, and he still seemed to be looking at the ceiling - but of course, that was just an impression. She ran a hand through his hair, brushing them away from his face. He smiled slightly at her touch, but she didn't need to see the pupils of his eyes to know that his heart wasn't in it.

She didn't like seeing him like this. With thoses cloudy eyes, melancholy turned his serene expression into a confused one - like he was a child that got lost and couldn't look for his way home.

Riza laid down again and rested her head on the pillow, her face turned toward Roy. She started to gently stroke his arm. "At least, you can keep in your mind the image of what I – and you – looked like in the prime of our youth," she said after a moment in a playful tone, trying to comfort him. "You won't need to see us get all old and wrinkled.”

To her surprise, Roy's face saddened further.

"Don't say that. Beautiful women are like fine wine, they only get better with age - that's what Chris used to say. I always wanted to see how you would look as you grew old.”

Riza raised her eyebrow, surprised. "Really?" she answered in spite of herself.

He nodded. "Not everyone ages gracefully, of course. But I know that wrinkles would look flattering on you; you have such elegant features. And silvery hair never fails to give this distinguished look - at least on women," he added, running a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. His eyebrows furrowed. "Do I already have grey hair?"

Riza felt her shoulders relax. "You're almost completely bald by now, Roy."

He winced. "Please don't joke with that. I don't know what I would do if this were to happen.

Riza simply smiled, and they fell back into a comfortable silence. She watched Roy’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, lulled by the calm rhythm.

"You know, I always wished I could see you grow old, also because it would have meant that we made it."

Riza felt her breath catch in her throat.

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, hoping her touch could tell him what her words couldn’t.

“We did make it, Roy.” Now of all time, she wished he could see her face.

"I know," he said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. "I know."

Riza propped herself up on her elbow. She close her fingers around his, and squeezed firmly.

"Listen. We'll just do like with everything else. When my hair turns grey, I'll describe it to you. And as for the wrinkles," she placed his hand on her face, "you can see that for yourself."

Roy made a small smile. For the first time, he turned to face her, placing the tip of his fingers on both sides of her face. That was something he never tired of doing. Before he had lost his sight, he had always been able to read her like a book, understanding the meaning behind even the most subtle of her facial expressions. Now, he could do it in a much more literal sense, by tracing the surface of her body, reading the lines on her skin as if they were words written in braille.

"And when my face is so wrinkled it's unrecognizable,” she continued, "you will know the story behind each one of them.” She injected a smile into her voice. “The ones I already have on my forehead, for example, come from the stress of having spent so many years asking you to do your paperwork.”

His fingers brushed her forehead, and he smiled, abashed. "And you're all the more beautiful for it, my dear." He reached toward her and, guided by his hands, placed a light kiss on her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest.” ”

#royaiweek21 #royai #blind roy #fma #fanfic

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yuzukult · 4 years

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effortlessly pt. 10 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly (the finale) pairing: jungkook x reader words: 4.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: ;u; patience is key, epilogue coming out soon! p.s. hope you guys stay for my next jungkook series! ;u;

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue

The seasons come by quickly— Autumn, Winter, Spring. Last summer had come to an end with you leaving the admissions office with a plan and an answer; a decision that was made up completely by yourself.

You’re grateful for Jungkook because he doesn’t probe you about your decision and promised to wait patiently until you’re ready.

Autumn comes around with its descending leaves from the now naked trees, filling the roads with shades of golds, reds, and browns, sparse in air, leaving every scene on your walk to school like a sepia photograph. It’s the season of football, pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice flavored anything, really, and Halloween. Then Winter approaches with a scare; a blanket of snow dropping over the school yard, the fields, and every corner of the entire city. Light jackets now replaced with thicker and longer ones, you can’t help but groan at the difficulty of tying your shoes with how stiff yours are.

“Ugh, why did I buy this again?”

Jungkook laughs merrily at the sight, mostly because you just look so small and cozy in your coat, struggling to reach down to your toes. He taps his thigh for you to place your foot, a grin stretching cheek to cheek. You comply as he responds, “Because it’s December, silly. You’ll be freezing standing outside wearing your little leather jacket that you think is going to make you feel warm.”

“It’s more of a fashion statement than warmth, Jeon.” He’s tying the laces of your Doc Martens, fingers nimble and cold, and thighs shivering from the remains of the snow that gets on his pants, the wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. “Well, you’re going to catch a cold wearing that thing around. That’s why you need this.” When he finishes, he drops your leg down, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head snugly. “So please don’t get sick because that means that I also have to play sick to stay home and take care of you.” Jungkook is effortlessly caring.

Jungkook hates the cold. Only because it takes away a location for him to swim— outside. But this year, he doesn’t seem to hate it as much. Maybe it’s because now, you’re his, and he can replace the time he dedicated to swim outside to spend time with you instead.

Especially when he gets to see you in the Christmas Village, mouth gaping wide with a bright smiling following after, face brightened by the colorful string of lights that surround you. “Wow,” Amazed, your eyes twinkle at the view. “Now this is something to talk about.” He hates himself for not taking you here every other year, the guys convincing him that it was too romantic for two friends to go to, but he can’t help but wonder what if he took you years before and learned how much he was in love with you earlier?

You spend the holidays at his house, meeting his grandparents and extended family while your parents decide to go on a trip to Hawaii. It’s become a tradition, really, your parents ditching the whole family bonding thing, and you spending that time with Jungkook’s family instead.

His mom loves you. Although your sleepovers have slowly become stagnant because of her suspicion of you guys doing more than just movies and sleeping, she wouldn’t want anyone else to be with her son other than you.

The Jeon’s have everything set for the holidays; from the tree with presents pleasantly wrapped placed intricately underneath, to the decoration that drapes the fireplace, to the strings of tinsel and garland that cascades down the staircases, and the wreath that hangs on the front door. Ms. Jeon is obsessed with Christmas and favors nothing more, perfecting the holiday over the years for her family... well, mostly herself.

Even though Jungkook spends day and night complaining about his mom, telling her that she’s dedicating too much money and time for this ‘stupid holiday,’ he’s still the best son and tends to her every need. When she struggles in the kitchen, he’s already by her side, asking her what she needs a hand in. Or when she can’t reach a portion of the tree while decorating, there’s an annoyed expression on his face but he utilizes his towering height to help her get those spots. Jungkook is effortlessly a family man.

“So, Jungkook, I heard you got into University?” His cousin, Sooyeon, asks. She is several years older than the two of you, almost completing her undergraduate degree. “I did! I got in with an athletic scholarship.” He’s genuinely happy, the way he shares this information, like he’s finally proud of himself and how far he’s gotten in life. The obstacles he’d overcome, the effort he had invested into the sport—they all were worth it in the end. Jeon Jungkook was reaching for his dreams.

It’s New Year’s Eve and Hoseok is hosting another party.

Underaged drinking is almost a rite of passage before entering University, and although you aren’t much of a rule breaker, it feels like something you need to do. Break out of your shell, despite the discomfort of knowing the consequences because once you get into college, none of this was going to be the same anymore. You won’t get to see Hoseok standing on the table, hollering out and swaying along to the song that plays. Jimin won’t be complaining about girls who reject him constantly. Yura won’t be there to call you out on your actions. And Jungkook, whilst he promises to stay by your side forever, there’s a possibility that it won’t happen.

“You look so pretty tonight.” Jungkook compliments you in a slur, cheeks rosy from the alcohol. You look down at your current attire; a silver sequined satin cami paired with a black leather jacket and jeans. Glancing up at the boy, you laugh at the sight of his cheeks, hand reaching up to pinch them. “You think so, Jeon?”

“If I’m being honest, I think you’re always pretty.” He hums against your hand, turning his face to give it a peck. “And I’m happy I get to be here with you. I hope you never go, and I hope nothing comes between us. It’d be nice, you know, if we...” He drifts off, mind fogging with thoughts that made him giddy because he’s giggling incessantly.

“If we what, love?”

“If we got married. Then we’d be best friends then high school sweethearts that made it.” Jungkook’s words soar you to the moon. He shares the same dream, whether or not it happens.

When the clock strikes 12, in spite of his current intoxication, he doesn’t forget you. Cupping your face in his large, warm hands, lips puckering up, he smooches you all over, laughter erupting from you. Jungkook is effortlessly a happy virus.

“Has Jungkook asked you to prom yet?”

“What?” Skimming through the pages of your notebook while in homeroom, you’re only half paying attention to anything Yura is saying. You’re on a mission to find something and even Yura can’t stop you.

Winter is still lingering, mostly waiting for Spring to make its appearance and nobody else is more excited for it to come than Yura. Only because it’s prom season, of course.

“Jungkook,” She reiterates, this time louder. “Jeon Jungkook? The love of your life? Is he asking you to prom?”

“Oh, prom.” Stopping at a page, your finger browsing through the highlighted and colored writing while furrowing your brows, focusing on the task. “Uh... no?”

“No?!” Yura exclaims, startling you out of your actions. She’s got your attention now. “It’s two months away. You won’t have enough time to find a dress or test out how your makeup is going to look and the shoes! What about your shoes?”

“Well, if it has your panties in a knot, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

You regret telling her that because she does. Your comment during a time of not fully investing the entirety of your attention has brought you to this: a locker filled to the brim of red roses. There’s a card in the middle of it all, so you grab it, tear it open where in the sloppiest writing it says: turn around.

There Jungkook was, in all his beauty, standing in the middle of the hall with a box of donuts in hand, opened with the writing: i donut want to go to prom with anyone else but you!

It’s not that you hate it. No, you disgustingly love it, but you wished you had Jungkook all to yourself. He’s too great, and him standing in his uniform with donuts from your favorite bakery, you can almost feel the piercing glares from other girls down the hall. But he’s yours, nonetheless, and you didn’t wish for anything more.

Yura’s exaggeration on how long it’ll take to find a dress isn’t so much of an exaggeration when you’re shuffling through dresses in the department stores with her for the next two months, the quantity of gowns dropping by the hour. You’re grateful you found something just two weeks before the date.

Although you think the prom theme being “Hollywood” is the tackiest thing you ever heard— the sight of Jungkook standing outside of your house with both a corsage and boutonnière in hand with his hair styled back, black suit and tie with a white button up underneath, your breath hitches. He makes you feel like you’re in the presence of a celebrity; he has the ability of grabbing the attention from an entire room, despite leaning against such an old car in need of a new paint job.

In spite of it all, he seems in awe as much as you are. He thinks you’re gorgeous like this— like he’s the one who is lucky, not the other way around. You lean over, hair blown out and in a black gown that hugs your curves and compliments only the parts you wished for it to, wiping the little drip of drool that falls out the corner of his mouth. “You good, bub?”

“More than good,” he says, voice raspy. “You look... stunning.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jungkook is effortlessly handsome like this, and you wish you could keep this view all to yourself. But tonight is a time to be far from selfish.

You want to flaunt Jungkook, more than he wants to flaunt you, you convince yourself. Mostly because when you step into the gymnasium that’s fully decked out in decor, everyone’s eyes are on Jungkook.

“I think they’re all looking at you,” He would say, but you’re not stupid. Your arms are linked with a God-like man with a personality that represents it. He does nothing but help you walking in your unfamiliarity in heels, introduce you to some of his classmates that you’ve never met before, yet manages to dedicate enough time for just the two of you, dancing the night away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears before pressing his lips against your forehead delicately.

Jungkook wins Prom King that night while some pretty girl in your grade named Nayeon wins Prom Queen. He doesn’t devote his dance to her though, he apologizes and takes your hand instead.

When he takes you home that night, the only expectation you had was to go home, shower and change into your sleepwear and sit by the window sill to talk the hours away with Jungkook from across the way.

But it’s prom. So you drive with him down the shore, wearing a spare hoodie he leaves in the trunk of his car for days that get cold after practices, and holds your hand while you stomp barefooted in the sand. He’s so pretty under the moonlight, you take note, the way that it shines on the bridge of his nose, brightens the shade of brown his orbs are, and brings warmth into his smile and laughs when you share stories about your high school years.

The two of you make love in the backseat of his car with the sunroof opened, under the moon. Although it feels corny to do and such a cliché concept to have sex on prom night, it doesn’t feel that way with Jungkook. You argue that his car might not be able to take the constant movements, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He just wants to shower you with kisses and love throughout the hours that pass by.

When you come back to school the following Monday, Yura sits backwards nervously in her chair, staring at a letter that sits on your desk. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you gesture the piece of paper with your chin. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s... a letter, from Le Cordon Bleu. Pretty much to the equivalent to an Ivy League for culinary schools.”

Oh. Now you understand why the air felt weird. Quickly, you shuffle into your seat and slide off your backpack onto the floor. “Okay, well. What are you waiting for? Open it!”

She whimpers. “I’m scared.”

“Well, you told me to stop being scared and just do it. So, bitch, do it.”

While protesting, she does as told. Tearing the envelope open and the unraveling of the sheet of paper was nerve wrecking, possibly even more for you.

“I... got in.” Holy shit. “You got in?”

“Guess who’s going to France, bitch!”

It’s a reality, this sight of your best friend; the brightest smile on her face, cheekbones defined from the excitement in her. A dream she had, a dream that you never even knew had been a priority in her life, was coming true.

Whether or not it was jealousy, you were proud of her regardless. Yura was able to attain her goals before even graduating high school. After further research, you learned that there were many locations for this school, and her dream was to be able to expand her knowledge throughout all those countries.

You’re tired of hearing him talk about his plans for the future where it sounded like none of the routes included you. Jungkook goes on from when the sun rises to the sun sets about what he wants to do in life, where he wants to go, and where he hopes to be at whatever age. You could listen to him talk for hours like it's a song on repeat that you never grow to hate, but today, it felt inconsistent. He had all these things he wanted to do but where were you?”

“Where do I even fit in all of this?” You finally get the courage to blurt.

Jungkook’s forehead is creased in disbelief at your outburst. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” you start, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt, “you haven’t even mentioned me once. It’s like you’re also planning for your escape out of this relationship.”

He’s fuming. It’s been a while since he’s been this mad, especially since your last huge argument had nearly been a year ago. Otherwise, with Jungkook, there had been small disagreements that were recoverable but it feels different this time. “You don’t get to be upset with me for planning a future without you because if I’m being totally honest, you still haven’t told me what you decided that day you walked into that office, and I’m feeling rather insecure about whether or not you trust me!”

“Don’t hate me,” eyes glassy and voice wavering, your bottom lip is quivering, on the verge of tears of pure fear that Jungkook would resent you for your decision. “I told the recruiter to give that position away to someone else.”

“And why would I be mad at that?” He says, pulling you into his embrace, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I lashed out. I’m glad you came to that decision, I’m glad you’re telling this. Even if it’s not on the sidelines of the swimming pool with me, nagging at me what to do. Because you’ll still be there to support me.”

Your shoulders slouch, still feeling guilty wash over you like a tidal wave. “I just didn’t want you to be upset because of how much effort you went through to get me there. To even get me that offer.”

“I didn’t do anything, love.” Before a tear can escape further down your face, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb after he pulls away. “You did that all yourself. They found you, knew who you were, and loved you. I just led them to find you. So, what did you decide on instead if you didn’t take that apprenticeship? Are you attending another University?”

“No,” You respond abruptly, rubbing your head into his chest again, muttering your next words into the fabric of his shirt. “She told me that it doesn’t take away my opportunity to still attend University there. So I enrolled there as undecided.”

There’s silence between the two of you before he finally speaks up. “Undecided?”

You don’t want to face him. Especially if the expression on his face may show disappointment, and that’s the least thing you want to do to Jungkook on your list. “Yes.” You mumble. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I thought at least going to college and trying to figure out while I’m there would be at least a start in the right direction.”

Grasping you by the shoulders, he tugs you away to clearly see your face. Finally meeting his gaze, his face showed the opposite. A gleaming smile pulling on the edges of his lips with eyes that shine and sparkle underneath this lighting, you’re stunned by his reaction. “I’m so proud of you!”

“What?” Lips swollen from the crying, you pout, almost bursting out in hyperventilating tears because you didn’t want this to end before college even starts. “You chose something. You made a decision on your own, solely based on what you felt was the best for you, not because you wanted to make someone else happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” Jungkook is effortlessly unselfish because he wants you to be his personal coach, yet he’s telling you to do what you want to do. “I just want you to be happy. I’m happy if you are.”

“But... I should be honest with you.” He’s the one who seems uneasy now, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “I... not only accepted the scholarship, but they want to send me to the States for a couple months in the summer for training with Taehyung.”

You’re not stupid. What that’s code for is that there’s a chance they’re going to keep Jungkook there, offer him another University scholarship elsewhere in the States, and continue his training. How could they not? With the way he swims, his drive and ability to adapt to any situation, he’s desirable to any team. He might not be yours anymore, and as much as you wished you could keep him all to yourself, he’s Jungkook. Who wouldn’t want him?

You learned that ever since you met him. Jungkook is so wonderful, he’s meant to be shared, and everyone should know him. He’s the spark in your life that you never knew you needed until you meet him.

It only sucked because it felt like once you finally got him, it’s already time to let him go.

Yet when you see him standing by your side in the crowd of people in your class, on a large patch of grass that they call a football field, cap and gown in the shades of your school colors, you can’t hate anyone for wanting a piece of him. He’s only eighteen but he’s managed to accomplish so many of his goals in such a short span of time. He’s able to catch the attention of an audience bigger than the crowd at Madison Square Garden. He was able to swoon the majority of the female population in your high school. Jungkook did what even he thought was impossible, he did more than exceed his own expectations.

So when you’re standing with your diplomas in hand after throwing your cap in the air, the grin that’s glued onto his face does everything to your heart. How lucky were you to experience a first love like Jeon Jungkook?

There wasn’t much time left. Graduation is over, degrees now in hand, and futures that are waiting for your attendance.

It’s Summer again, the excruciating heat beaming from the sun’s rays reappearing, an entire year passing by since your confession to Jungkook. Although you’d rather be spending your anniversary in the next few days leading up to it, there’s a different occasion tonight under this familiar sweltering heat.

Jungkook leaves tomorrow at noon for America yet he’s procrastinating the remaining stuff he needs to pack for his trip. Well, he says it’s a trip, but you have a feeling that his stay is going to be longer than anticipated.

If you’re being truly honest with yourself, you’re scared. Eighteen, best friend/boyfriend who had been with you your entire life is leaving for the unknown. Your other best friend is leaving to pursue her dreams elsewhere as well, alone and without anyone to support her physically.

But you can’t help but think about yourself. What did this mean for you, someone who was losing the most important people in her life that were all going to hunt their aspirations, while you were just... undecided?

Laying in the field of grass, head resting comfortably on Jungkook’s arm while his other sits on his chest, the two of you admire the sunset in the midst of your silence. The hues of red, pink, orange, and yellow fill the sky, dancing and blurring into one another, gifting you a sight that you’re grateful to view with Jungkook. It was going to be a while before you got to see him again, and you’re hopeful that it’ll feel just the same.

“Three months,” He’d repeat constantly, every time he sees the pain in your expression. You both had gone so long without truly being each other, and now that you finally fessed up your hidden emotions, it’s hard to let go. “It’s only going to be for three months. Then you’d have me again.”

“But you don’t know that.” You’d say, heart tightening in agony. “There’s so much of this world that wants you, Jungkook. University is just one of the potential first stops. Someone is going to take you away, whether you like it or not. You just have too much talent and potential.” Jungkook doesn’t agree with you, but he doesn’t voice this. Not tonight, at least, if it’s the last time he gets to be with you for a while.

Just like the sun, Jungkook eventually has to go away. He leaves for the States with Taehyung to train for the summer, projecting that he’d be back in time for the fall semester to start University with you. Even through texts and phone calls you get from him, he can’t give you a date when he’d be back, but he misses you dearly. You want to stay hopeful that he does return, attending classes with you again, study-dates, meeting up for coffee afterwards, have lunch and dinner, and continue your sleepovers, maybe even find an apartment and move in together.

Yet again, Jungkook... he’s effortlessly Jungkook. The guy loved by everyone, yet has the hardest time loving himself. The guy who has such a promising future, one that’s almost a guaranteed dream come true for him. There’s no need for exchanges of ‘I love yous,’ because you know he does, yet you don’t want to hold him back, so you let him go. Whether or not he comes back for the fall semester, you’re not sure, but one thing you do know is that Jeon Jungkook will be your first everything, and your current everything.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkookxreader #jungkook x reader #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #gyukultfics

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