#//only purpose is to hurt and be hurt; to be some stepping stool or toy for others to just fuck with; yk what I mean?

[revvywevvy]

You like incredibly misunderstood characters. Do you relate to that by any chance? /light hearted

y. yeah. SDGHSDGHSDGHDSHS

[breadoffoxy]

Joy Ride

Summary: Jimin, Taehyung, and you finally go shopping for a new chair. You have to give it a thorough test ride though first thing, just to make sure it meets yalls standards. 

Pairing: Jimin x f. Reader x Taehyung

Genre: NSFW, Smut

Warnings: NSFW, vaginal sex, anal sex, sex toys, unsafe sex, teasing, spanking, dirty talk, language, exhibitionism, public indecency, masturbation, double penetration, begging, kissing, chair sex, oral sex, dom/sub/switch dynamics

Word Count: 3,883

A/N: This is the last chapter of Magic Hands. I’m sad to see it end but I’m also ready to move onto other things. I hope you’ve enjoyed this series, it has been a wild ride haha.

<- prev

The car rolls to a stop and you exhale a sigh, “Finally here.”

A sad pout is on Taehyung’s face. Jimin pat’s his leg reassuringly as he puts the car into park. “We’ll go back one day, Tae.”

“I need an office space, not a sex dungeon.” You grumble as you unbuckle and open the door to hop out of the car.

Now that your time of the month was over and you felt like a human being again, the two men now in your life, from an unsuspecting turn, are taking you shopping. They broke your chair, promised you a new one, and dammit they were going to get you one. Taehyung just had a different idea on a chair than you.

“Just think of all the possibilities, y/n.” Taehyung whines, getting out of the car languidly. “That chair was multi-functional, comfort and pleasure. Just think of how good you could feel all the time.”

“Most of the time.” Jimin adds in his two cents. “I’m sure it could be easy to get over stimulated on that thing.”

“…And that’s a bad thing?” Disbelief fills Taehyung voice.

“C’mon let’s just get this done.” You interrupt, wanting to make sure the conversation doesn’t get to risqué in the parking lot. Plus, the more he talks the more likely Taehyung is likely to convince you to go back to the sex store. You will not fall for it!

“Ask me when I’m ovulating.”

Damn It.

Taehyung is now grinning toothily at you, a skip in his step as he passes you by. Before you can take anything back, a strong arm wraps around your shoulders and directs you toward the store. Jimin looks at you with a smile on his face. “I’ll pick you out the best chair, don’t worry.”

A little smile easily slips onto your lips from his encouragement. “I know you will Jimin.”

Upon entering, a worker greets you at the door asking if you needed any help. They point you towards the middle of the floor where chairs are displayed, and the two of you move quickly to catch up with Taehyung. By the time you get there, he is already sitting experimentally in a tall, expensive looking leather chair that looks like it would be in an executive’s office. He crosses his legs and looks at the both of you with a raised eyebrow.

If only you weren’t in the middle of a store right now.

“Do I even want to know the price of that one?” you ask as you eye his form hungrily.

“Nope, way out of budget, but it makes me feel powerful.” He leans forward and smirks, “Is it working?”

Flustered, you clear your throat and look away. You can feel heat travel up your neck. From the corner of your eye you see the store associate hovering on the outskirts of the chair section.

“I’d kneel down for you, sir.” Jimin throws in a cheeky wink.

“Ok, let’s move on to the affordable section!” You place your hands on Jimin shoulders and steer him away from your other partner. While you’d really love to see it, you don’t want to get banned from the store. At least, not until you found your chair.

Jimin giggles cutely, a complete opposite to the earlier mood. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it, you can see an article about office chairs over his shoulder.

"I see you came prepared." Your heart warms at the thought he put into this simple act.

"Didn't I tell you I was going to get you the best chair?" He reminds you determinedly. "Ok, we need to look for a chair with five legs minimum."

"I don't think I've seen any with more than that." You say, observing the bottom of the chairs as you walk through the show floor. Your face scrunches up as you try to remember how much your previous chair had.

Jimin scrolls through the check list. "Obviously comfort, support, everything adjustable...hmmm, oh they recommend a breathable chair cover too."

"Got it." You nod your head before closing the distance between you and him. Your head now rests on his shoulder as the two of you carefully eye the chairs. "Guess we really can't get Taehyung's chair now."

Your head bobs up and down with Jimin's shoulders as he laughs. "Such a shame, it is really nice."

"You have to sit in the chairs, not just look at them." Taehyung walks past the two of you with purpose. He plops himself down on one and flinches as his butt hits the seat. "Not this one." Groaning, he stands up and rubs his butt. He eyes the next chair over wearily.

After that the three of you try chair after chair a little more carefully than Taehyung's first attempt. You keep track of a couple you like and quickly get through the rest. The longest part is trying to make your mind up between two chairs.

"The arms on this one are more adjustable, which could be nice." you mumble as you play with the chair's arms.

"These ones have more sturdy arms though, so if you lean on them it shouldn't drop on you accidentally." Jimin points out, tapping the arms of the other chair.

"Yeah, and it'll keep your legs more stable if we ever try that position again." Taehyung agrees, eyeing the chairs seriously.

You can feel heat once again creeping across your neck. "That was dangerous and we won't be doing it again."

Taehyung pouts, "But it was so hot." He slithers up to your side to whisper, "I want to see Princess exposed like that again."

"I-" You don't even know what to say.

Luckily though, you are saved by the sales representative approaching your little group. "I wanted to let you know this one here is one of our sale items in today's ad." They point out to the chair with the more secure armrests and hold out an ad. Jimin takes it from their hands and eyes it carefully.

"That's great. I had some questions about the lumbar support of this one."

While Jimin and the associate exchange chair questions and answers, Taehyung pulls on your hand. You lift your eyebrow inquisitively but allow him to drag you over to a couple of stools.

"Doesn't this one look fun?" Taehyung stops in front of a saddle stool.

"Fun, but not too comfortable for long." You respond, fingers trailing along the leather padding. Exaggeratedly, you swing your leg up and over the stool as if you were getting onto a horse. You sit down and your eyebrows furrow. "Huh." There's a raised part that slopes up directly in front of your core.

"Huh indeed." Taehyung eyes how the chair forms between your legs hungrily. He brings down a hand to smack you softly on the ass. "Giddy up."

You let out a squeak as you jump from the unsuspected smack and unintentionally grind into the front of chair with your core. Quickly, you bring your hand up to mute most the sound, hoping no one heard the squeak nearly trail off into a moan. Jimin and the employee look over at the two of you at the noise. Jimin waves happily while the associate just frowns. Both of them have a knowing look in their eye with different connotations. Taehyung laughing evilly behind you doesn't help.

When the two get back to talking chair business, Taehyung presses himself up against your back. "Naughty, naughty princess, trying to go for a ride in the store, how indecent."

The words caressing your ear has you shiver with desire. He just knew how to press all your buttons. His hands fall onto your hips, and you let him push you into the stool to grind against the slope. You bite your lip and turn your head to see him giving you a saucy grin over your shoulder.

"But you like being naughty, don't you princess?"

"Y-yes." You whisper weakly, doing your best not to completely lose it. Subconsciously, you are twisting your body more towards him, with your lips so close to grazing against his.

Someone clears their throat, "Excuse me." Your's and Taehyung's heads shoot up to look at the glaring associate. You can feel warmth spread over your body from embarrassment and shame, and somehow feeling even more turned on by someone stopping you from acting outlandishly in public.

Taehyung and you stare owlishly at the irritated worker and Jimin doing his best to hide his laughter behind his hand. Thankfully for your sanity, you recover quickly. "The stability of this stool is pretty great. I can see myself sitting up straighter on this, but I think it would hurt after long uses which wouldn't work to well for me."

"I agree. Jimin let's get the one you picked out." Taehyung nods sagely.

Who were you kidding, the two of you were pretty obvious, but it gets the staff member to leave you alone as they head off to ring you up at the register. You quickly dismount the stool and rush over to where they are waiting impatiently for the computer to calculate the total. Jimin sticks the card in the reader and the next thing you know the employee is rushing you out the door with a very unfond, "Have a nice day."

After the chair is loaded into the back of the car, you each in your seats, and the last door is closed, the three of you are silent for a second before you all burst into laughter. Jimin is nearly falling out of his seat with how much he is laughing. "Oh my god, their face when they saw you two." Jimin can't say much more than that between his laughter.

"I thought they were going to kill us." You lean forward with your hand over your heart trying to ease its rapid pace.

"Stability check, really?" Taehyung looks at you with a boxy smile.

"Shut up, like you helped any." You wheeze out.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Jimin gets his breathing under control. He shifts the car out of park and you are leaving the parking lot. "How about when we get home, we do a stability check on this new chair hmm?"

"Sounds good to me." You cheer, continuing to laugh as Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows at you.

The drive back to your place goes fairly quickly with the two looks the men keep throwing you in the rear-view mirror thoroughly distracting you. Before you know it, you’re back home with Taehyung’s mouth devouring yours and Jimin nearly ripping the chair box apart.

"Yah! Are you two going to help?" Jimin yells, the box now completely destroyed and chair parts spread around your living room floor. He runs a hand through his hair disgruntled.

Forcing your head away from Taehyung's doesn't distract his lips from traveling to your neck and his hands from creeping up your shirt. You have to put your hands on his shoulders and push him away to get him off of you. "That's y’all's job since you guys broke the last one."

Taehyung's pouting at you and Jimin grabs his hand to drag him towards the chair. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

"Leave it to us." Jimin says proudly. A saucy smirk finds its way onto his face. "Why don't you get ready for us in the bedroom. We'll bring it in when we are done."

You nearly reel back when he throws in a wink, warmth spreading through your body in excitement. Through hooded eyes you say, "Don't take too long now."

If Jimin wasn't still holding Taehyung's hand you're sure he would follow you as you slowly walk towards your bedroom, adding a little extra hip sway to each step. His gaze is nearly burning holes into your ass. You decide to leave the door open as you strip yourself from your clothing and it doesn't take long until you're naked and to hear the quiet bickering of the two men trying to assemble the chair.

You go to your bed stand and after digging around finally find what you are looking for. Pulling out your bottle of lube, you also grab a small anal plug for you to start prepping with. You sit down on the edge of the bed and take a moment to fondle your breasts with both hands. Your nipples harden under your touch and your head lulls back as you pull and twist the sensitive nubs. The sensation makes you feel the wetness between your legs grow and you know it’s good enough time now to lube up the plug.

Dropping a good dollop of lube on the toy, you smear it around eagerly with one hand. Now sitting on your knees, you rest your head and shoulders onto the bed with your ass up in the air. Your lube free hand comes to hold an ass cheek wide as your lubed one swirls around your back entrance. You dip it in just slightly, forcing your muscles to relax.

Slowly, you start pumping it in and out with a come-hither movement inside you every now and then. You allow a moan to fall from your gaping mouth at the sensation, hoping the boys will hear it. Once satisfied with your finger stretching you out you replace it with the plug. It slides in and you let go of your ass cheek to rub at your clit with your other hand.

"Ohhh, fuck." You gasp as the toy finally fills you until it reaches the flared base. The clatter of chair parts stops for a moment and you think you can hear Jimin yelling something but aren't all too sure.

With the task of filling your ass done, you get up and head to your bathroom to wash your hands. Now that your hands are clean, you are free to grope at your chest again. The way your muscles clench around the toy stretching your ass out as you walk feels so good and has you pulling your breasts harder in response. You sit back on the edge of the bed, waiting and waiting.

You're not sure if it's because of how horny you are, if it really is taking a long time for them to come in with the chair, or a combination of both, but you are feeling restless. One hand stays on your breast while the other travels down your torso, grazes your hips to slide in-between your legs. Your fingers swirl through the slick created from the attention your breasts have been getting and the anticipation of what is to come, collecting it to help them slide into your wanting hole.

"Mmmmnnngh," it feels so wet, hot, and tight. Your stretch your legs out allow your hand more room, and it greedily increases the pace. A squelching sound follows each time your fingers pump in and out of you.

"Don't have all the fun without us." A deep voice says and you open your eyes you didn't even realize you closed to see Taehyung strutting in the room.

Jimin comes behind him and wheels the new chair in. "Well if someone didn't put the arm on backwards, then they wouldn't have had to wait so long." He gives Taehyung a look.

"Says the guy who lost one of the screws but was just sitting on it." Taehyung fires back.

Before Jimin can retort you open your mouth, "Thank you for building the chair, but for the love of god will one of you just fuck me right now."

The two men stop glaring at each other to stare at your wanton form on the bed. Normally the frown you are giving them would scare them, but with your fucked-out expression it does quite the opposite. As their blood rushes downward, Jimin and Taehyung strip themselves of all their clothing. Jimin swivels the chair and plops down in it before Taehyung can even get close to it with a victorious "Hah!".

Taehyung pulls your hand from your cunt and uses it to pull you off the bed and into his toned body. "Why don't you reward Jimin for all his hard work picking this chair out for you?"

You can see Jimin preen from where he is sitting on the chair, loving the praise. Biting your lip, you nod, and decide to ignore the fact right now that it's his fault you needed a new one in the first place. Taehyung leads you over to Jimin, and after a little bit of maneuvering you're able to fit between the arm rests and straddle Jimin's waist.

Memories from your last chair experience make you a little hesitant when your entrance is hovering right above Jimin's cock. "And yall are sure it’s safe this time?"

"Oh, hold up." Taehyung kneels down and presses a lever down on each of the wheels, effectively locking them into place. "Yep, all good now."

"Good?" Jimin grunts. He places his hands on your hips to help steady you.

Nodding your head, you place your hands on Jimin's shoulders. "Yeah, help me break this chair in?"

“Of course.” And then a scream is being ripped from your throat as Jimin’s hands on your waist slam you down onto his cock in one hard, fluid motion. You arch your back and Jimin admires the sight of your boobs bouncing in front of his face and the way your mouth is moaning his name. "How does that feel?"

"So good, Jimin, you make me feel so good when you fuck my pussy."

A satisfied smile is on Jimin's face that he hides by burying his face in between your flouncing mounds. "And what about your- ahh fuck Tae."

Your curious about what is happening to Jimin, but you quickly find out when you feel a tongue swipe at your folds only to disappear again and for Jimin to moan out again.

Fuck.

Taehyung is still kneeling in front of the chair, his hands on Jimin's muscular legs, and his mouth moving between where yours and Jimin's bodies connect, tasting you both.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The added sensation of Taehyung's tongue, has the two of you a moaning, quivering mess. Jimin's hands leave your hips to grope at your ass, exposing you more clearly to Taehyung. "Fill her up and kiss me damn it."

"Bossy." Taehyung grumbles, the vibrations of his deep voice make you and Jimin groan. The kneeling man smacks your ass as he stands up, and leans over to give Jimin a quick peck on his lips. Taehyung moves over to your night stand to apply your lube generously over his large cock.

"Why are you smacking my ass?" Not that you hate it.

"Can't reach Jimin's." Comes Taehyung's reply as if it all makes sense. "Plus, you like it don't you, you filthy little princess."

"Yessss," You groan as you feel Taehyung pulling the toy out of your asshole. His hands grab your chest and kneads them as he slowly sinks is slick cock into you. Jimin holds your hips steady until you are accustomed to the double penetration. It doesn't take too long with how used to your body is to both of their cocks by now.

"Good?" Jimin asks, looking up at you as he licks at your breasts and Taehyung's hands.

"Good." You repeat, nearly breathless.

"Good." Taehyung groans behind you. You feel his torso pressing into your back to lean over your shoulder.

Jimin quickly leans up to kiss the man ardently, and you see Jimin's tongue slither into Taehyung's mouth where it fights for dominance. Tae doesn't go down with a fight and you clench at the sight of the two eating each other's mouths out. They grind into you as they try to get closer to each other and it spurs you on to start riding the both of them as you watch them kiss lustfully. The room is filled with yalls moans, a beautiful and sinful harmony.

You busy your own mouth with the real-estate in front of you that is Jimin's neck. You kiss his neck until you reach the spot that has him groping your ass more fiercely, making you smirk as you suck down on that spot hard. He whines, allowing for Taehyung to win the kiss battle, and now Jimin is a quivering mess beneath the two of you. His muffled whines are high.

"That's it Jimin." You lick the bruise forming on his neck. "Cum in me, fill me up, and make it cream out onto Tae's cock."

Jimin's hips stutter with your words and then he comes, filling you full with his hot seed. He moans loudly into Taehyung's mouth as you milk him for everything he has. You can feel his release being fucked out of you as you continue to ride his dick. Taehyung pulls back for Jimin to catch his breath, which he does gratefully. Leaning back into the chair completely spent, Jimin swears as he looks down between your bodies and watches his cum slide down with your arousal to Taehyung's thrusting cock.

"Shit, you're going to ruin me." He whines, trying to hold out against the over stimulation.

"But the ch- ahhh, the chair is still good right?" You ask between thrusts

Jimin pulls you against his chest, making Tae stumble down with you.

"Careful Jimin." Taehyung warns. Luckily his hands dropped your breasts quick enough and shot out to rest on the chair, caging you further in-between the two men.

"Sorry." Jimin gasps at the new angle. "Looks like both of us need to be taught some manners." He stuffs his hand between your bodies and rubs your clit in a slow, teasing manner.

"Jiminnnnnngh," you whine, his name turning into a moan.

"Say it." He demands, and you easily succumb to his dominance over you and your clit.

"Oh, sweet Jimin, ohhhhh, the cutest angel, love of my life, you are the best. Ahhh fuck please let me come. I'm sorry, please, please, please." You beg, losing yourself to desperation.

The fingers rubbing your clit begin to move vigorously and it has you clenching tightly. Warm breath caresses your shoulder and you feel Taehyung's nose nuzzle into the crook of your neck. He licks the skin there before biting down. With a groan, he is coming, filling up your ass with his release.

Once Taehyung's erratic hips stable out, one of his arms flexes as it holds his weight to allow the other hand to join Jimin's between your legs. Their fingers preform a combined assault on your clit and it isn't long before you as coming undone as well. With a scream you go over the edge, and dive deep into a long orgasm.

The three of you are still, completely exhausted on the chair, panting to catch your breath after that experience.

Jimin breaks the silence with, "I say the chair passes the test."

"Good." you mumble sleepily against his chest.

A low chuckle rumbles against your back. "Only the best for you princess."

Jimin and Taehyung share a look before smile lovingly at your dozing from between them.

[pretty-little-pink]

Henrik didn't enter the room, instead choosing to urge Author in. The lights were off, but that didn't mean it was empty, and he didn't particularly want to be in a room where he couldn't see Anti if he so happened to be there. That was how one ended up on his table, with it often being the same, foolish victims. He closed the door behind him and then stilled and took a breath. There was nothing more he could do. He could tell Anti all he desired, but to expect the glitch to listen to him without any issue was unrealistic. His hands had clutched around his cloak and he took a moment to unwind them, then smooth out the fabric. There. Now, he would wait. - Anti was in the room. Technically. A computer was facing the entrance of the doorway and softly crackling with static, and he was simply observing. He wanted to know how Author would react if he thought he was alone, or what he might say. Or even if he would react at all. He had hardly done so in the park, not beyond fear. As he watched, he took the time to admire. Author was not unattractive. This was clear. Little tits, decent ass, and from what he could see, pretty twat. There was the obvious scarring all over his body, and he could see what the doctor meant with the damage, but that fine dexterity wouldn't be needed. He had bought him for a reason, after all. Even if that reason had mostly been curiosity and a sense of sick satisfaction.

Author stepped inside when Henrik made him, blinking a couple times when the door was closed and he was left in darkness. Besides the computer screen, at least, though that wasn't a whole lot of light. Enough he could see the pretty much empty room though. He only let his gaze sweep through the room once though, knowing he didn't need to know anyways.

Henrik had told him to kneel and wait, he'd be told what to do. He was good at that, but where would be the right spot for it? He considered his options very briefly -not taking even a minute to think together with his brief look at the room.

He only took a step or two to the side, and settled on his knees next to the door. He figured he'd be out of the way here, easily found when Anti came, and hopefully not doing anything wrong. Just like with Henrik, he sat on his heels, hands resting lightly on his legs without obstructing the view of his chest. Gaze on his hands, watching his fingers twitch.

He wondered what he'd be used for. Maybe everything. Edward had surely trained him for everything. Being a decoration. Being a sex toy of any kind. Being an animal. There wasn't really anything he could think of that hadn't been done to him -besides getting pregnant, which he couldn't help but feel relieved over for reasons he didn't remember. The relief was tainted by Edward's voice though, calling him broken, unable to fulfil his body's purpose.

His gaze was distant as he just sat there thinking. Not moving, besides his twitching fingers and his breathing. He was calm, or at least appeared so. Just thinking. Wondering what use he'd find here, if he'd be discarded, if maybe these people would fix his body somehow -not thinking of his hands or malnutrition. At least he was alive, and not on the verge of keeling over from being too thin. Though he was notably underweight, trembling slightly, not taken care of overall. He was used to it though. Being cold, being uncomfortable, being in pain. He's not worn clothes since he was taken, only ever wearing cuffs on his limbs, or rope binding him in some way.

He hoped he wouldn't be decoration. He found being tied up and suspended was the worst, though he also greatly disliked being used like a stool or chair. Just standing completely still for hours wasn't comfortable either -sitting or laying down without moving he could bear certainly. Maybe he'd just be a toy. Be used and then put away until he was wanted again. He dealt with that the best, even though that also usually hurt.

[melofanish]

Hold Us In Those Arms

@strandbuckley Day 4: “Look How Far You’ve Come” + Future

Summary: If Carlos could use one singular word to describe the day, it would be some mix of 'horrendous', 'terrible' and 'assfuckery'. Apparently, the entirety of Austin decided to lose their brain cells on the same day, doing a range of dumb shit. And he was done. He was tired, and exhausted, and hungry. The promise of home was the only thing that kept him going as the last few hours of the shift rolled by. He can't believe that once upon seven years ago, he'd told TK that "if it isn't meant to be it isn't meant to be."They've all come so far.

Tags: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, Original Female Character, Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Married Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Soft Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Carlos Reyes Needs a Hug, Good Significant Other TK Strand, Mentions of Past Emotional Child Abuse, Future Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Warnings:  There is a minor mention of past emotional child abuse of an original charter, so tread lightly if that's not something you're okay with.

Beta: The magnificient and mejestic @lire-casander

Read on AO3.

---

If Carlos could use one singular word to describe the day, it would be some mix of 'horrendous', 'terrible' and 'assfuckery'. Apparently, the entirety of Austin decided to lose their brain cells on the same day, doing a range of dumb shit. And he was done. He was tired, and exhausted, and hungry. The promise of home was the only thing that kept him going as the last few hours of the shift rolled by.

He parks in the driveway, unwilling to open the garage and snake his car inside. It's turned into somewhat of storage for a number of items they need to get rid of. It still takes both of their cars, but it requires manoeuvring the car around and a level of concentration that he just doesn't possess at the moment. So he parks in the driveway instead, stretching back to grab his bag, and then he's jogging up the porch.

He stops just outside the door, hand on the handle, and takes a breath. His family is extremely sensitive to his moods. He may not have a mirror at hand, but he can imagine how he looks; wrinkles on his forehead, a glare in his eyes, and thin lips. He sighs slowly, willing some of the tension to leave with the exhale. He repeats it again and then decides to pull on his big boy pants and he opens the door.

He's greeted by the smell of something sour cooking, and picks up lime and chicken spices in the air almost immediately. He drops his bag, toes off his shoes, and then takes a moment to stretch. He wants to get inside, feel the love and safety and security, but he doesn't want to bring any troubles from the outside world in.

He passes across the living room, dodging through Legos and car toys, making a mental note to tidy up the haphazard toy boxes in the corner. The TV is on, playing "Moana" on mute. He turns it off, the sound of a cabinet opening, a pan being lifted, and the cabinet closing pulling him further in.

As he steps under the door frame, Carlos can't help but take a moment to appreciate the way his life has turned out. TK is wearing his favourite apron, a piece of light yellow fabric with small, animated elephants stamped all over. He has his back to Carlos, focusing on whisking something in a bowl, and then he stops and slides over to the stove, lifting the lid of a pot to add green peppers and then closing it again, before returning to the bowl.

Ella is sitting behind TK at the bar on a high stool, her back to Carlos as well, and what looks like the contents of her school bag thrown across the table. Carlos can see that she has a pencil in one hand, and she's using the other one to count on her fingers.

He approaches her, standing right behind her, and peeks over her head. Her textbook is open to a page with two colourful red circles and four blue circles joined by an '×' sign, followed by a '=' sign, and then an empty cloud. He identifies the multiplication equation, the current lesson they're doing at school. He can see that she has already drawn in six circles, and the seventh has been drawn and erased. Multiple times if the wear on the paper tells him anything.

He bends and presses a kiss to the unruly brown curls on the top of her head. She stops looking at her fingers and diverts her focus up, at him. Her grey eyes are blown wide, and they're lined by an unshed layer of tears. Carlos is about to ask her what's wrong when the quiet serenity of the house is broken by the loud, high-pitched "DAAADAAA" as she stands up on the stool and turns to hook her arms around Carlos' neck.

Carlos picks her up, holding her little, lithe body against his, trying to squeeze her into himself. He can feel the swell of her smiling cheek in the crook of his neck, and as he turns his head to press another kiss to her head, he feels her reciprocate and press tiny, small pecks to the underside of his jaw. He feels two arms wrap around his torso then, hugging them both, and a strong muscular chest attaching itself to his back. TK lifts up on his toes and rests his chin on Carlos' empty shoulder.

They stand there for a few minutes, their daughter wrapped in his arms, and his husband enveloping them both, holding all three of them together.

TK is the first to pull away, squealing as he runs to the oven when he hears the jumble of the lid lifting by the boiling steam underneath. Ella lets go of Carlos' neck, and he drops her back into her seat before he excuses himself to go upstairs to change. As much as he wants to stay wrapped up with them, both he and TK have made it a point to change as soon as they get home. Getting into comfortable clothes, they've found, helps them let go of the burden of their jobs. It takes them away from professional mode and puts them into home mode, into parents mode.

Into family mode.

He can see TK giving him a look from the corner of his eye. But under Ella's watchful gaze, and behind the disguise of changing, TK doesn't say anything. He knows TK won't be expecting him back for a few more minutes, as he does his usual decompression coping mechanism of sitting on the sofa and trying to drown his own misery in the happiness around him.

He jogs up the stairs two at a time, and crosses the hallway to their bedroom in long, purposeful strides. He opens their closet and pulls out the first pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he spots, laying them both on the bed as he begins to remove his clothes. He hurries through the process, getting his pants and socks off in one move, and then unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt and removing it through his head. He gets into his home attire just as fast, and then he's out the door. He stops at the last moment, turning back to grab his clothing off the floor and throwing them in the general direction of the hamper, and then he's out.

He's right about halfway down the stairs when he hears a faint echo of a whimper. He pauses, trying to focus on the source of the noise, when he hears the clearer, unmistakably Ella's sniffles.

"What's wrong, baby?" He hears TK asks, the concern and the worry apparent in his voice alone.

"I don't- I don't know how to do it, Papa, I can't d-do it, it's so hard!" comes Ella's crying response. Carlos doesn't need to have them in his visual field to know that TK is wearing a sympathetic, heart-broken look and that Ella's looking up at her dad, seeking comfort and solace.

He isn't sure what it is, but something compels Carlos to sit on the stairs and listen, rather than walk in and act. Just as his butt touches the rising, he hears the scratch of a chair on the flooring, and then TK's "come up here," and he knows Ella has been picked up.

Carlos hugs his knees, knowing that down the hall, Ella is held in TK's arms. He's been in those arms many-a-times, and he's very aware of the safety and security and love that they radiate. He knows Ella is in the most comfortable place she could possibly be.

The few next moments are spent in silence on both ends. Carlos is solely focused on the soft taps on TK's feet as he undoubtedly sways from one side to the side, and Ella's slowly diminishing gasps until both sounds stop.

"You're doing so well, honey. Why are you saying that you can't do it?" TK breaks the silence, voice full of love and concern.

"It's hard, I don't know how-" Ella’s voice wavers for a moment before she takes a breath and continues, "I don't know if I can."

TK lets out a sad whine, and Carlos' heart does the same. He can hear the insecurities seeping into Ella again, her seven-year-old mind still not over the three years she spent with a family that called her 'stupid' and 'idiot' for not being able to do things that she shouldn't have been able to do in the first place.

"Yes, you can, love. Just because it's hard doesn't mean you can't do it!" TK tries to reason with her. Carlos can tell Ella doesn't believe him by the violent whimpers she lets out before TK follows up, "No, no, listen, remember last year? When you said you couldn't do addition?"

There's no reply for a moment, and then Ella is humming a small "yeah?"

"Yeah, remember? You can do it now! You learned! You do addition so fast now! You've come so far!"

There's another beat of silence that leaves Carlos straining to listen for the smallest of noises, anything so he can know what's going on in their kitchen.

"Oh," Ella grumbles eventually. "So, I just need to work like I did with adding?"

"Yes!" TK exclaims, and Carlos can't help but smile at the excited tone coming from his husband. His smile widens even further when Ella huffs a quiet "okay" in response.

He hears a thump that he thinks is Ella being put down onto the stool, and then the rustle of pages being turned. The soft padding of feet drag away from him, and then there's the sizzle of oil as something is dropped on it. He knows that they're back to normal.

Carlos takes another moment, just sitting there on the stairs, hugging his own legs. There's something about being there with them - but not - that gives him a weird sense of peace. It's witnessing them alive, hearing the sounds of their voices and movements, knowing that their personal tiny bubble is untouched, undisturbed, untroubled by whatever dangers are in the outside world. It's knowing that his family is safe and sound within the walls of their home.

He takes a deep breath and gets up. Whatever peace he feels hearing them, he knows it'll be multiplied when he's around them. He continues his descent down the stairs, walking the length of the hall, but when he gets to the living room he pauses. His plan was to just plop on the sofa for a few minutes, get his psyche and emotions under control. Instead, he finds himself drawn to the kitchen.

He heads to Ella first, dropping a kiss on her head again. He's pulling away when realises that she has eight circles drawn now, and is on to the next problem, and he finds himself bending for another kiss. She looks up at him with the second one and smiles, her bunny teeth piercing through his very soul.

He moves on from her, entering the 'U' of the kitchen and hugging TK around the waist, laying his chin on his shoulder. TK turns his head and plants a kiss on his cheek, eyes quickly darting away to rack over Carlos before he fixes his gaze on the pot again. Carlos hears the unspoken question all the same. He isn't usually back with them so soon. But hearing Ella cry and TK comforting her must have healed some part of his own sad soul. And now he's onto the next part; he wants to be in their arms as well.

Carlos smiles, hoping it carries as much peace as his heart is starting to feel, and he plants a kiss at the edge of TK's jaw. He trails a few up, and then whispers in his ear, "Wow! I can't believe you used to burn toast! You've come so far!"

TK freezes under his arms, head fully twisting this time as he turns to glare at Carlos in recognition of the very same phrase TK just used.

There was a time, when they first adopted Ella, when TK would feel attacked at being listened to while he deals with her. But they've talked about it. TK understands now that Carlos' need to stay close to the moment - but not in it - has nothing to do with his ability to parent. It just calms Carlos down, and his view on it has since shifted. He now sees it as proof of his skills. If Carlos didn't think he was doing something right, he wouldn't just sit there and watch and listen from afar.

Carlos doesn't react to the glare and pursed lips. He just laughs, steals a kiss off the puckered mouth, and then moves to sit by Ella.

As he plops down next to her, she turns to him and asks about the next equation she's solving.

He can't believe that once upon seven years ago, he'd told TK that "if it isn't meant to be it isn't meant to be."

They've all come so far.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

All The Way Down: Two

Thor watched in silence for a long time, as you labored over whatever it was you were making. It was a long slender blade. Longer than your forearm and taping down to a needle-thin point. He wondered what purpose it served. 

You rarely wasted time and effort creating decorative pieces. Weapons were not toys. They needed to be useful. Beautiful, yes. Well crafted, yes. But. There was never a blade, no matter how beautiful and delicate that couldn’t slice off a man’s arm. He wanted to ask. But. In his mind, all he cared about was the warmth. 

The familiarity of sweating his ass off on a stool in the corner while you stoked up fires and banged away. There was a certain sensuality to it. To watching your lean, lithe, tightly packed muscle ripple and sweat run. All the while your breath remained steady and even. 

It reminded him of before. In the dark. The muscles rippling under his hand. The smell of star metal that clung to your skiing. The soot on your cheek that he’d wiped away with a chuckle. And in the present, Thor swallowed hard and shifted on the stool. He had always carried fond memories of his time with you. But he also knew better than to try and pull you from your forge. For conversation or anything else. At least not until you were ready to leave it. 

Eventually, you stepped away from the fire and went to take a drink of water, leaning on the work table. It was clear, at least to Thor, that you’d been thinking as you hammered away. 

“What brought you back, really?” you ask, taking a long drink of water. 

And Thor took a deep breath. It was true, he’d missed you. It was true he wanted guidance. But the longer he sat, watching the goings on just out the door the more it seemed that the manor, and it’s surrounding farms and shore line was… somewhere he could put his people. Maybe. 

“I well-” Thor paused, considering carefully what he was going to say. He knew better than to lie, but he also knew he should probably tread lightly. He’d hurt you when he left. And he knew he couldn’t just… ask you. “I- it’s true I missed you,�� he said. “But I- Asgard is gone… It’s just gone. Destroyed.”

You tilt your head slightly, “And-”

“And I want- At least for a while… can I bring my people here? To protect them.”

You pause, water skin halfway to your mouth. “Is anyone cursed?”

“Not that I know of,” Thor answered. 

“Possessed?”

“No.”

“Psychotic?”

“Only Loki- Sometimes,” Thor answered, hoping you’d realize it was a joke.”

You nod. Lapsing back into silence as you look out the window of your shop. And Thor squirmed. He wasn’t sure when you had perfected the ability to do that. To keep him questioning what you were thinking. But. He remembered Trebuchet doing it to him many times. 

“They may take residence along the coast,” you say finally. “Most of my people are… Uncomfortable being that close to humanity. But. Having Asgardians so close to them may be a good deterrent.”

Thor nodded, his face relaxing into a smile. “You won’t regret this, Y/N,” he said, leaning forward and kissing your cheek, “I promise.”

“I hope,” you answer, “That for your sake, I do not.”

You stretch and turn to shut down the forge for the day, banking fires and locking away tools. Thor hefts himself off of the stool he’d been occupying and went to help. Careful not to make you change your decision. 

“Are you hungry?” you ask.

“Yes,” Thor said nodding. The food here was always delicious. Simple, but. Always delicious. 

“Come on then,” You tell him, walking out of the shop. He wasn’t sure if it was all of your kind, or simply your father’s influence, but he appreciated the lack of ceremony. People who came for help were helped. Fed and clothed. He followed you. And now that he was out of the forge, he could smell something cooking. It smelled of bacon and onion and garlic. And Thor’s mouth watered. “Green beans?” he asked. 

And you nod, making Thor grin. Somethings hadn’t changed. He knew that that was a particular favorite of yours. What he didn’t know is if you had specifically requested it. Or if Cook still made fresh bread daily. 

You let yourself in through the kitchen door and murmur a quiet word to a maid, who whisks Thor up to a comfortable chamber, complete with a place to bathe. And Thor feels a moment of disappointment when he realized this was not your chamber. It was true, he’d never made love to you in the house. But. He’d hoped for some sort of… resurgence of feelings. Something to mirror how he felt. 

But then. 200 years was a long time. And he had left you. That had probably emboldened you to take other lovers. To demand pleasure. And… Thor couldn’t consider that maybe you had loved them. Or still loved them. Perhaps more than you had loved him. 

Still. He took the hint and made use of the facilities, grateful that you hadn’t just murdered him. Or made him sleep in the barn as Trebuchet had once done. 

Thinking of the day he’d first arrive here, he felt a sting of shame. You had found him, naked, streaked in blood and dirt where he lay in the ditch. A destroyed sheep carcass not 50ft from him and blood slathered on his jaw. He did not remember how he had come to this sorry state, who had cursed him or why. But he remembered you. Back lit by the sun as it rose. That cast you in a glow like seraphim’s fire. At first, he had thought you a Morrigan. Come to carry him away. But then… You hadn’t. He supposed, in the strictest sense, you had, but it was not Valhalla he found himself in when he next woke.  It was a narrow cot. With rough blankets. And an earthenware pitcher of water and a cup. A small fire heated the room. And he was clean. His wounds had been dressed. And rough, simple clothes lay folded carefully on a three legged stool. 

“At least the bed is wider,” Thor sighed, sinking into the hot bath that the maid had drawn for him.

[scary-lasagna]

Hey! Do you still do yandere's? If so. Yandere creepypastas of your choice with a SO that actually like.. fight them? And escape easily? Like they thought SO was just weak? But bam the second they leave they're gone or fighting them and getting the upper hand or she would just disappear only to just show up at a bar or something If you don't want to do this I understand! If you do then thank you very much! Have a good night\morning\evening!

I hope you don’t mind, I combined a similar ask with this! 

(also gentle reminder I only do one extra person with the proxies in one ask. You can always send another one in with the different characters, it just helps time management for me :])

Masky

Tim doesn't have a limit when it comes to how many times he's willing to capture you.

He has the patience of a saint when it comes to you, darling.

Have you seen those episodes of Supernanny?

He'll repeatedly go out, drag you back to the house, and lock you in your room.

If he's feeling energetic, he'll leave the window open out of spite.

He knows you can't resist trying to escape, and he's ready to stomp after you as soon as you hit the grass.

This goes on for quite some time, until you realize there's no hope.

And when you fight back, he's quick to restrain you by pinning your arms to your chest with a tight bear hug from behind.

He's trained to handle tough victims like yourself, and he's not giving up unless you outsmart him or hurt him bad enough to where he can't stand back up.

He'll still love you to the end of the earth, though. And Tim will always find a valid excuse as to why you're fighting back.

Hoodie

Literally just comes up beside you on a bar stool, "Hey."

This fucker can track down anyone.

And once he's locked target, there's no letting up.

You will be found, and you will be dragged back kicking, screaming, and praying for mercy.

Try to kill him? No worries! He has handcuffs for that.

And a gag, if you decide to bite and spit.

Every time he pops you back down on the couch, Brian kisses you on the cheek with a hair ruffle and a chuckle.

He thinks it's cute that you have hope, and just for a healthy exercise, Brian will leave a window or back door unlocked. 

He’s smart as hell, a genius behind the proxy missions, and he’ll use this to his advantage to toy with you.

The moment you think you’ve lost him and finally get somewhere safe, he pops up and finds a way to drag you inconspicuously back home.

Brian is very forgiving, especially when he sets you up for failure.

He doesn’t expect you to win your freedom so easily, and rub your back while you cry into your tear-stained pillow. 

Toby

Darling, please don't make this harder than it has to be!

If you just try, you can fall in love with Toby!

He's a nice guy, but if you keep screaming you'll have to stay locked up in your bedroom.

But the screaming suddenly stopped, and Toby thought you finally settled down.

But no. You were gone.

He'll freak out, and run after your disappearing figure into the woods.

Not only does he have to remember and dodge his own traps, but also everything you throw his way.

Sticks, sharp rocks, you even tried to hit him with a small log.

It wouldn't do much except knock him off his feet for a few moments, this guy is like a superhuman when it comes to combat.

The only way to defeat Toby is by bringing him on the edge of a breakdown and leaving him alone in a dark forest.

If you want to take the extra step, he's small and vulnerable at this point, and this is where you should attack so he doesn't drag in another darling again.

Jeff

It's a game of cat and mouse to him.

This just makes your relationship more exciting!

If anything, he purposely leaves doors and windows unlock, just to watch you get a glimmer of hope and run off.

It's cute how you think you can get away from him so easily.

He's not against harming you when you get back, and if you've been exceptionally bad, he'll carve his name into your back.

Just in case you get lost again, beautiful!

Everytime you think you have the higher ground, this crusty bastard is 50 feet above you.

Found a knife? It's actually hollow plastic, and Jeff is standing behind you with the real one.

Open window?

Jeff is underneath it, waiting to surprise you with a death grip of a hug.

Your punishments will grow server the more you fight against the killer.

If carving his name doesn't work, you can expect open wound, broken bones, Jeff doesn't have a limit if it means gaining control over you.

[spacequokka]

Homecoming

Pairing: dom!Jiyong x sub!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst with some Fluff

Rating: M

Summary: “You look like you’re having a great time, kitten.” Jiyong leaned in, resting a hand on your thigh. “Won’t you come sit with daddy?”

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: daddy kink, lots of degradation, jealousy, Jiyong’s bad with feelings, use of a knife, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), vaginal sex

A/N: I dedicate this to my first 200 followers! I love you all.

You weren’t wasted. Tipsy? Sure. Drunk? Maybe. But not wasted. You knew your name and where you were. You knew where you were going. To the bar. Your cup was empty, and you were aware of how your feet hurt in the heels you wore. So that prompted a trip to the bar.

Peeling your body away from Hoseok’s and Jimin’s had been an unpleasant task, but only because you really liked the sandwich. Their eyes, lips, and hard dicks promised a damn good time. Just thinking about it gave you tingles. You made your way through the crowd of dancers, only getting distracted once or twice by random hands on your hips that made you sway to the beat. If you didn’t have a booth with BTS to return to, you might have stayed.

You pulled your curve-hugging dress down and approached the bar, hand up to get the bartender’s attention. He noticed and nodded his head as he continued to pour drinks. Great. You had to wait. It didn’t look like a long line, so you spun around on your chair and faced the crowd with your knees pressed together. Again, you weren’t wasted. The dress was so short you’d flash someone if you didn’t.

A guy on the dance floor caught your eyes, and he started to dance facing you, hands held out for you. Dark hair. Full lips. Oh, boy. You briefly wondered if Hoseok would mind you taking a detour on the way back when someone stepped in front of you. You didn’t look up at the face. You were too fixated on the white button-down shirt. The buttons looked familiar. So did the black turtleneck under it. The haze in your brain made it difficult to put two and two together, so you looked up.

Oh, shit.

“You look like you’re having a great time, kitten.” Jiyong leaned in, resting a hand on your thigh. “Won’t you come sit with daddy?”

You’ve never sobered up that fast in your whole life. You held your breath and moved your mouth like a fish. How long had he been here? Shit, did he see you with the guys? Fuck. He had to. He had that look in his eyes. It was a challenge. If you said no, there would be hell to pay later. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

You bit your lip and nodded. His smirk grew into a full grin as he took a step back and held out a hand to you. You took it, praying he wouldn’t notice you were shaking, and he pulled you off the stool. His hand slipped down to the small of your back and he gave you a little push forward towards the curtain that sectioned off the VIP area.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit.

The boys were in the VIP that looked out over the dance floor. This VIP was private, quieter. They wouldn’t know you hadn’t left. Ah, shit. Should you text them? Who wouldn’t come after you? Yoongi! He’d be able to explain—

“Where’s your head, kitten? You haven’t said a word.” His voice was a velvety murmur. Jiyong’s hand slipped to your hip and pulled you closer to his side. He looked down at you, eyes searching your face as the smirk began to fade into a scowl. “Are you worried your boy toys will miss you?”

Dread washed over you like a bucket of ice water. He’d seen you dancing not-so-innocently with them. “I-I didn’t know you were here!”

He hummed and pushed you into the booth. “I know you didn’t. Or else you wouldn’t have been practically fucking them where everyone could see.” Your knees hit the plush cushion, and you scrambled to sit upright. “Did you forget what I said to you before I left?”

“N-no.” You turned to face him, your hands falling into your lap. “I didn’t forget, daddy. But I didn’t know you were serious.”

“Oh? So then, that little show out there was deliberate? My kitten was being a slut on purpose?” He pointed behind him, but his eyes were on you. Your face felt hot. Could looks kill?

When you didn’t answer, his fingers caught your jaw and yanked you forward, closer to his face. “Do you even know how I feel right now? I came here to celebrate my discharge from the military and instead I find you letting others touch what’s mine.” He growled, letting go with a slight shove. He turned away, flexing his hands before shoving them through his ink-black hair.

You knew you were in deep shit, but seeing how agitated he was made it sink in. You dropped to your hands and knees, head down, not daring to look at him. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please,” you whimpered, “forgive me. Punish me.”

He scoffed. “Punish you? You’d like it. What would you learn from it?”

You cringed at his words. If he wasn’t even in the mood for punishments, you’d gone too far. You crawled over to him and grabbed his pants leg. “I-I’ll do whatever you want. Please. I’m sorry I was being a slut. I’ve been drinking and wasn’t thinking straight—”

“Have you fucked them?” The question was blunt, devoid of emotion.

You nearly looked up but caught yourself. You shook your head.

“Words, _____.” His hand twisted into your hair and pulled you away from his leg. You cried out in pain but didn’t touch his hand or try to getaway. Still, you wouldn’t look at his face.

“No, I haven’t,” you hissed as he tilted your head up.

“Were you going to? If I hadn’t shown up, would you have left with them tonight? Let them all fuck you?” He let go and stepped away from you. “Let them take turns filling your greedy pussy with their cum.” He walked around you in a slow circle before stopping behind you. “You would’ve taken it however they would give it to you, huh? Just because you thought daddy wasn’t around?”

He pushed you forward, and you fell on your hands and knees. His foot came down on your shoulder and he pushed until your ass was in the air. His fingertips trailed up your thigh—just like old times—pulling your dress up and over your hips. You quivered as the cold air fell on your skin. “Daddy, I’m—”

“Shut up.” He cut you off with a firm slap on your ass. “If the only thing you have to say is how sorry you are, save it. I don’t wanna hear that shit. I don’t even wanna hear you call me daddy."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as his words left you without any options. You couldn’t beg for forgiveness or try to get on his good side using his favorite nickname. Drunk Jiyong was fucking confusing. What did he want from you? Suddenly, the little world your submissive fantasy lived in burst, leaving you feeling naked and hollow.

The keys in his pocket jingled as he dropped down onto the couch. There was a pop followed by the fizzle of a beer and he sighed. “I love looking at your ass. You didn’t send that many full-body nudes. Were you too busy fucking someone else?”

You didn’t know if he wanted you to answer, so you bit your lip and hid your face in your arms. His foot tapped your leg, prompting you to speak. “You didn’t respond to the full-body ones, so I thought you only wanted breast pics.”

“Hmm. So you’re gonna ignore my question, _____?” He put the end of his beer on your ass cheek and you jumped away from its coldness. “Were you fucking someone else?”

“You said you didn’t care what I did when you were gone,” you said, unable to bring yourself to play your part.

“Dodged again.” He set the beer down on the table with a hard clink and grabbed your dress. “Come here. Turn around so I can see your damn face.” You let him pull you up. You turned around to face him but didn’t actually look at him. His thumb grazed your jaw before his fingers dug into it and angled your face up at his. “Look at me, dammit.”

You bit your bottom lip hard to fight back fear and brought your eyes up to meet his. The lighting was brighter here than it was back by the bar. His eyes were glossy. His grip loosened, dropping to your shoulder as the other hand settled on your hair. Even tipsy and pissed off, he was still sexy as fuck.

“How many?” He demanded, pulling you close and resting his forehead on yours. For a split second, you were filled with fear. What would he do if you told him the truth?

“I-I don’t—” You tried recalling every face you woke up next to. It wasn’t an insane number, but likely more than what he wanted to hear. “Um, shit. They were all one-night stands.”

He shut his eyes tight as his shoulders slumped. He let go of you falling back in his seat with his arm over his eyes. For a long minute, neither of you said a word. It was the perfect time to leave or text someone for help. Run for it? Maybe you could catch a taxi and make it home—

He sniffled.

The sound startled you, and you sat upright, hands resting on your thighs out of habit. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes then looked at you, nose red and eyes redder. He simply looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher before standing up. “Fix your dress and hair. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” You stood up, too.

“Yeah. We need to talk and I’m not doing it here.” His hand caught your wrist and tugged you behind him.

“W-where are we going then? My place is a mess—”

“Mine. It’s closer anyway.” He pulled out his phone and began texting as he stepped through the curtain. The music was jarring and you put a free hand up to your ear in some stupid attempt to adjust. A hand closed around yours and pulled, making you both stop.

“_____, baby. There you are.” Hoseok’s smile was tight as his eyes drifted down to Jiyong’s hand on your other wrist. “We were worried something happened to you. You wanna come back up?”

It was an out. Every part of your alcohol heavy mind said to take it. To avoid whatever the fuck Jiyong was pulling you towards. You didn’t have a relationship. He didn’t want one. Whatever he wanted to talk about wasn’t something you’d want to hear. Hurt. He was probably going to tell you how you weren’t what he wanted in a casual sex arrangement. You could avoid the rejection and just stay with Hoseok and Jimin. They wanted you. For now, anyway.

“_____?” Hoseok pulled you towards him. “You coming?”

You were aware that Jiyong was watching, curious to see what you’d do. He didn’t move an inch, his hand never pulled you towards him. He was more than willing to let you go if you wanted. Even so, you’re a glutton for punishment of all forms. “Nah, I’ll catch up with you guys some other time. It was fun hanging out though!”

Hoseok pouted and let your hand drop. “Jimin’s gonna be disappointed.”

“He’ll get over it.” Jiyong leaned in to give Hoseok a laser precision glare and continued through the mosh pit of bodies. You gave Hoseok a little wave. He nodded his head before turning towards the stairs. You caught a glimpse of Jimin leaned over the railing above, looking down at you with a dark expression.

Outside it was chilly, a stark contrast to the sauna the club had been. You heard a chirp and looked up in time to see the lights of Jiyong’s car flash. “Whoa, whoa. You’ve been drinking.”

“Yes, and so have you,” Jiyong muttered as he walked you towards the passenger side. “Your point?”

“You shouldn’t be driving! Let’s just go back inside—”

“No! I don’t want you back in there with them. The way he looked at you—Fuck that.” He shook his head.

“Okay, then call a taxi or get an Uber. I’m not getting in a car with you as the driver.” You pulled your hand away and crossed your arms. His hand flexed as if he were still holding your hand, proving your point. “Your reactions are slow as fuck.”

“Then you drive.” He held up his keys.

“Bye, Jiyong.” You huffed and attempted to step around him, but he caught you by the waist.

“No, no, no, no, no. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” He pulled out his phone. Though it got colder as you waited, his body heat was a buffer from the biting wind. You watched his thumb swipe over the screen as he filled out the info needed. “There.” He flashed you a winning smile, then leaned against his car. “Now we wait.”

“Why can’t we wait inside where it’s warm?”

“Because I don’t want them looking at you again. Let them move on to their next victim.” His arms went around you, turning you away from him and pulling you back against his body. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Enveloped in his scent, something spicy with a hint of smoke, you found yourself relaxing. His arms overlapped yours as he hummed something, a ballad maybe. At some point, he started rocking you from side to side, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. Your hands turned to cover his. To anyone else, it may have looked like you were dating. But you weren’t that close, and after tonight, you probably never would.

It wasn’t long before the Uber pulled up. Jiyong opened the door, motioning with his head for you to get in as he dropped his unfinished cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. You didn’t say a word. The driver wasn’t chatty, but you would have welcomed the distraction. Instead, you huddled against your door, mentally naming anything your eyes caught sight of.

Tree. Dog. Fence. Lamppost. Bus stop.

You even read every street sign. Anything to resist the urge to look at him. You had a feeling his eyes were on you.

The car rolled to a stop outside of a fancy house surrounded by a steel gate. Jiyong gave his thanks and got out, holding his hand out for you. You thought about pushing his hand away. You’d had time to sober up a bit more and was beginning to feel irritated with the whole situation. You weren’t exclusive. He’d made it clear that he never intended for you to be more than fuck buddies.

So why were you here? To talk? About what? Where did the roles begin and end?

Why were you giving him a chance to hurt you?

His hand closed around yours, and he gently pulled you out of the car. After muttering his thanks to the driver, he shut the door and guided you to the front door.

“Why can’t we talk here?” You asked, rubbing your arms to keep warm.

He gave you a dubious look. “Because you’d freeze to death. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re wearing strips of fabric.”

“Then make it quick.” You refused to budge once he’d unlocked the door. “You can’t possibly have much to say.” You coughed then imitated his voice, “I wanted a slut, _____, but you’re too much even for me. This isn’t gonna work out. Run along now,” you pretended to shoo an imaginary person away. “Ta ta, peasant.”

“When have I ever called someone a fucking peasant?”

You looked at him and shrugged. “Never, that I know of. But you look like the type who’d be condescending as fuck.”

He smacked his lips, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you inside. “Condescending, my ass. Not to you, of all people.”

“What the fuck makes me so special?” You pouted, straining to see as he slapped on bright lights down the hall towards his bedroom.

“Contrary to whatever-the-fuck you think I think of you, I actually do give a fuck about your feelings.” His tone was much softer than before, and that scared you more than being yelled at or tossed out on your ass.

“But why?” You blurted out, unable to resist the fear. “This is just a casual thing, isn’t it? I mean, you said you only want a submissive fuck buddy.”

He nodded as he dropped the contents of his pockets onto a nearby dresser. Phone. Wallet. Loose change. A picture of you taken at a photo booth.

Wait. What—

“I know what I said then,” he turned to you as he toed off his shoes and flung them into the closet. “But you’ve changed my mind.”

You paused to digest his words. “So, then… I’m not good enough anymore? If you want someone different, just say so.” You shrugged despite the growing pit of despair in your gut. “I’m a big girl. I can respect your decision and move on.”

“Just like that?” He whispered, pausing to look down at his feet.

No, of course not. But still, you held your ground. “If I need to. If you say I should.”

“If I say…” He looked up at you, eyes narrowed with determination. “So if I said you shouldn’t, you won’t?”

“Ji,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re confusing me. Are you mad or not? Do you want to end this or not? Can I go home or not? What do you want from me?”

“Your heart!” He yelled, then lowered his voice. “All of you. I want you and I don’t want to share you. I want to be exclusive. I don’t want to have to think about you sleeping with anyone else. I don’t want to worry about being just another face you forget when the sun comes up.”

Okay, so how the fuck did you miss this?

He groaned and pulled his hair in frustration. “I thought about you the whole time. Just you…and no one else. I didn’t think that you’d get lonely or want to sleep with other people. I had this stupid notion that you missed me just as much and was saving yourself for me.”

“But we never agreed on that sort of stuff. We never even talked about what we’d do once you enlisted!”

“I know!” He sat on the edge of his bed. “I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I got so carried away with being ‘Daddy’ that I felt…entitled to you. That you were mine and no one else’s. It wasn’t until tonight, seeing you with someone else, that I saw I was wrong. You’re not actually mine because I didn’t ask you to be.”

You didn’t dare to hope this was going where it seemed like it was. You’ve been wrong way too many times to count. “But I did miss you.” You twisted your hands. “But I thought since you only asked for nudes, you didn’t care for anything else.”

His head snapped up, and his gaze narrowed. “You think, if you’d said you missed me, I’d shut you down?” He stood up and in two quick strides came to a stop in front of you. “Am I really that cold to you?”

“You have poor self-awareness. You’re that cold to everyone, especially when you’re in your role.”

His hands went to your shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. “I’m not asking you to compare how I treat you to others. I don’t treat anyone else like this. I don’t bother to explain myself to other people.”

“Then why me?”

“Because you wouldn’t look at me. You looked so guilty, like you wanted to run.”

“You said you didn’t want me to apologize or call you daddy. What else could I do?”

His warm hands cupped your cheeks as he angled your face up towards his. “Look at me. You could have looked at me. Let me see where your heart is.”

“How can you see that just by eye contact?” You tried to pull away, but he didn’t budge.

“Because, try as you might, your eyes have never lied to me.” He smirked as his hands trailed down your arms to your own. He lifted your knuckles up to his mouth and pressed the softest kiss to them. “I’ve never looked for anything but lust. But I hope what I’m seeing now is something more.”

Never have you felt more vulnerable standing in front of someone. Two firsts in one night. Jiyong guided your arms around his neck, pulling you closer.

“L-like what?” You forced out a nervous laugh as his hands went to your waist, slowly trailing down to your hips.

“You mean besides the fear?” He smirked. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me. I want you to be honest with yourself.”

You opened your mouth to retort—how dare he call you out like that?—but he cut you off with a kiss. And not one of those punishing kisses that makes your vision blur from the lack of air. This one was new to you. It was soft but firm. Passionate and demanding. It was a question. A question that made your heart race and fingers tremble.

Honest with yourself? With how you really felt about him?

You pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. He had a question for you, but you had one for him, too. You wouldn’t dare take the plunge without having an answer first.

He pulled away first, panting a little. The look in his eyes. They were darker, familiar. This Jiyong you could stand in front of with confidence. He licked his bottom lip, eyes assessing you as he made up his mind.

“Get on the bed, _____.” He stepped to the side. “I want that dress off, now.”

He didn’t like to repeat himself. And for once you didn’t feel like being a brat. You went over to the bed, adding an extra sway of your hips with each step. You stripped slowly, peeling the skin-tight dress off with care. It was a loaner, and you didn’t want to pay—

“Don’t tease,” he grumbled, and the loud rip of fabric stole one of your nine lives.

“Ji!” You looked at him in horror. “This isn’t mine!”

“It is now. I’ll send a check to whoever used to own it.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Well, to him it probably wasn’t.

“You ass—”

He pulled the pieces off your body and tossed them aside. He eyed you from head to toe. “When did you get this?” His fingertips grazed the black lace of your panties. “I didn’t buy this. It’s from one of those trashy designers.”

You froze, briefly considering making a run for it. You didn’t think this through enough. Of course, it was too late to bail as you didn’t have a change of clothes here. “I—It’s a gift—”

“From who?” He put his hands in his pockets. Oh, no. Not that stance.

“You’re just gonna get mad.” You pouted, taking a step away. He followed you without a thought, eating up more of the space between you two. “Ji, please—”

“Who,” he caught your jaw and held you in place, “was it?” You opened your mouth to protest, but he talked over your incoherent pleas. “Was it one of them? Hm?”

His fingers seized a strap and pulled it down your shoulder. “I bet it was the one on the balcony. Jimin, was it? The one who came for you seemed like he’d go for something kinkier. Maybe crotchless.”

“It was a gift! I don’t know which of them bought it—”

His eyes narrowed as his beautiful lips twisted into a sneer. “So it is theirs.” His other hand came out of his pocket with a switchblade. The black metal one you bought that had the pearl handle. With a flick of his wrist, it clicked and came at you.

“Jiyong, no!” You shrieked and tried to pull away, but his grip was as strong as steel. Unable to move away fast enough, you watched helplessly as it quickly caught the thin fabric between your breasts and sliced clean through like butter. Your breasts spilled out with a soft bounce. You blinked a few times, unable to process the different outcome. Why weren’t you bleeding all over the fucking room?

“It looks better like this.” He turned the blade and went for your panties, a slice on each side. They hit the soft carpet soundlessly, and he picked them up. “As trash.”

“Did you just—” you turned robotically, still processing this madness.

He approached the fireplace in the corner of the room and hit a switch. It flared to life, bathing the room in a soft amber glow as he dimmed the lamps. He tossed the panties into the fire. Together, you watched the fabric catch the flames and curl up before becoming a melted mess. He looked at you and gestured for you to come closer. “Get over here.”

You didn’t argue.

He slipped the bra off and tossed it in, too. “Say goodbye.” You watched it burn.

Once it was gone, he turned to you and resumed inspecting you. You were glad the marks from your last escapade had faded. You didn’t think you could withstand his reaction to that. He circled you, fingertips ghosting here and there.

“No marks? I’m almost disappointed, kitten. You love it rough.”

“Almost, but not quite.” You quipped, then bit your lip. He came to a stop in front of you and petted your cheek lovingly.

“Oh, she has jokes?” He grinned, and it nearly put you at ease. It was nice to see this side of him, the side that lured you in when you first met. But with a snap, it was gone, replaced by that dark look again. “Don’t worry. No one else will ever mark your beautiful skin again,” his hand cupped your jaw, “except me.”

He spun you around and anchored you to his body with an arm around your chest. You gasped, and he chuckled, lips grazing your ear before kissing that spot near your ear. His free hand explored your hip, taking time to feel everything before reaching between your thighs.

“Daddy,” you whined softly when a finger parted your lower lips, teasing your clit on its way to your entrance.

“So wet.” He murmured, tightening his hold on you. “I wonder why.” He brought his finger, covered with your essence, up to your lips. You opened your mouth and immediately began licking and sucking it clean. “Could it have been those shots you took? Or was it dancing between them?”

You tried to turn your head to look at him, but he forced you to stay still.

“I admit, I never thought about you being filled in both holes until tonight. But don’t worry, if my kitten wants to be stuffed with dick and drooling all over herself, I’ll find a way to make it happen.” His words had a growl to them.

What? But he didn’t want to share.

“You’ll have to settle for an imitation,” he returned his fingers to your cunt, “because I won’t let anyone touch you. I’ll just strap you down—to the bed, coffee table, who knows—and fill you with toys I think you’ll like. And if you try to argue with me, I’ll shove my dick down your throat.”

You tried to hold back the moan. Really, you did.

“Oh, you want that? I’d say you’re a good girl, but after what I saw tonight, I think that’s a lie.”

“No, it isn’t!” You leaned your head back. “I followed your rules.”

“Hm.” His mouth twisted into a scowl as he added a third finger, stretching your cunt. “Did you now? So that means I need to add more? Would you even follow them?”

You nodded, “As long as they’re within reason.”

“Within reason? Have I ever given you a rule that wasn’t?”

Considering how all over the place he was tonight, you couldn’t be too sure. “No, but still. You have your conditions and I know my limits.” You paused, then added, “I don’t want to get hurt with your mixed messages.”

He went still and, for a minute, he didn’t speak. The only sound that filled the room was the soft crackling of the fireplace behind you, burning the remains of your pretty lace set.

“No new rules, then.” He let go of you and said, “Turn around. On your knees.”

In a flash, you kneeled in front of him. Hands resting patiently on your thighs. Spine straight. Eyes on him. He squatted down and looked you in the eyes. “Color?”

“Green, daddy.” You gave him your best reassuring smile.

He stood and unzipped his pants, letting them pool around his feet before stepping out of them and kicking them out of sight. His black boxers followed them. He stepped closer. “Open up for me, baby.”

You opened wide, sticking your tongue out as he’d come to expect. He was hot and heavy on your tongue, filling your senses with a scent that was uniquely him.

“Eyes on me, kitten. Don’t look away.”

Your eyes snapped open and focused on him. He gave you a warm smile that sent a little shiver down your spine. He pushed forward slowly until you gagged and your eyes filled with tears. He hissed as your throat squeezed the sensitive head of his cock, but he didn’t buck.

Daddy’s control was exceptional.

He eased back and gave you another patient thrust, diligently looking for any sign of discomfort. When you could take all of him without gagging, he picked up the pace. A fistful of hair on the top of your head. A gentle grip on the back of your neck. Each snap of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. You were immediately lost in him.

His soft grunts and moans. The fireplace. Your own gagging. He could go on forever and you wouldn’t mind.

He pulled away, squeezing his cock at the base, muttering to himself with his eyes screwed shut. He wasn’t done. Why’d he stop? You were tempted to break your role and move to him, but you knew not to. Rule number five. Never move unless told.

“Why’d you stop?” Your voice was rough, throat a little sore. It felt wonderful.

“I’ve been drinking. If I cum now…” He looked at you and licked his lips. “I need to take care of you first.”

You blinked, surprised, but didn’t comment. This wasn’t normal. He pulled you to your feet and kissed you, walking you back to his king-sized bed. You fell back with a squeal. It was much softer than it looked. The fleece and satin bedding was heaven against your skin. You could sleep here forever. Fuck having a life and shit.

“On the pillows, kitten.” He made motions with his hands, instructing you to scoot up the bed. Once you were where he wanted, he crawled up the bed, unbearably slow, to plant a kiss on your lips. “You look like a fucking goddess. Like you belong here.” His lips caressed your throat. “Won’t you stay?”

His voice was deep, husky. Fuck.

“I-I’ll stay.” You could barely get the words out as his hands found your nipples, and he coaxed you into laying back. Though the request was odd—you always stayed—you didn’t want him to think you wouldn’t.

He hummed against your skin as he parted your knees with his waist. Your legs fell open for him. His smile warmed you all over. “Good girl.” His hot, sensual kisses trailed down your body, including a few nips here and there, ending once your thighs were on his shoulders.

He dragged his lips over your folds in the barest of touches. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs whenever you jumped and attempted to shut your legs. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, his mouth opened and his tongue pressed against your slit.

You moaned, hips twitching in his hold. He grinned up at you and did it again, dragging his tongue up until it touched your clit, then snatching it away.

“Fuck! Daddy, please—”

“No, call me Jiyong. Can you do that for me, baby?” He brushed his lips against your thigh. “It’s just Jiyong and _____ right now.”

“Jiyong.” You whispered, caught off guard by the tender look in his eyes.

He dove in without restraint and took his sweet time. The tip of his tongue started the bottom, dipping languidly into your heat, pressing hard as he licked up to your clit. Over and over until you were moaning loudly, body rolling up to meet his mouth.

“Ji. Ji, please. I-I’m so close. I just—I’m gonna cum,” you begged, desperate to fall apart on his tongue. He guided your hands to his hair and tightened his hold on your hips.

“Then cum, _____.”

You pressed his head closer, holding him against you as he sucked on your clit. A torrent of curses left your mouth as you reached your peak and fell into him. He sat up quickly and maneuvered his hips between your thighs. A condom appeared, and he tugged it on. You were a trembling fucking mess as he eased his hard dick inside, hiking your legs up to his shoulders and leaning in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He leaned down and stole a wet kiss as he fucked into you, deeper than anyone else you’d had since he enlisted. He was so deep, hitting your cervix, that it almost hurt as the last waves of your orgasm began to fade.

“Fuck, _____. I’m—I’m,” he ended on a moan that rumbled in his chest, right over your heart. His arms folded under your head like a pillow and he held you close, hips pumping away as he came. You rubbed his back as his moans fizzled out to soft whimpers, likely from overstimulation, as he kept thrusting. “I don’t want to stop.”

His words triggered a spasm, and you clamped down on him, not wanting to let him go. “Fuck, Jiyong.”

He slowed down to a stop but didn’t pull out. “Yeah… Fuck.”

His heart was racing, reminding you of a hummingbird. Your hands went from his shoulders to the back of his neck to trace the bold lines of the wings. When you first found him, you’d thought he was an angel. You weren’t wrong, but you weren’t exactly right either. He sat up on his elbows and looked down at you with an unreadable expression.

“When you said you’d stay earlier,” he began, eyes looking everywhere but at you, “what did you mean?”

He was forever throwing you for a loop.

“What…did you mean by stay when you asked?” You countered, pulling your arms back.

His bottom lip stuck out a bit, “I’m not sure. I was thinking past sunrise, but now…” He looked at you and brushed his lips over yours. “I meant it when I said I don’t want to share you. Your body, your time, or your heart.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded and kissed you again. “I’d like to take you on dates, vacations, and stuff. Show you the world. Maybe even move in?”

You gasped.

“Not right away! I mean, whenever you’re ready.” His fingers combed through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You were vaguely aware that with anyone else, you’d be up out of bed by now, including Hoseok and Jimin. His weight didn’t bother you. In fact, it was comfortable. He was comfortable.

This…was comfortable. You liked it.

You pulled him down and kissed him, licking into his mouth then gently biting his lip.

“A date would be a nice place to start.”

Masterlist

[sunflowersupremes]

Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.

Just the boys being dorks and getting stuck in a wall.  

Kinktober 2020: Stuck in a Wall & Toys Whumptober Day 28: Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops

Tags: Modern AU, NSFW

Characters: Geralt, Dandelion

Series: Witcher in Quarantine

Read on AO3

As part of his bribery to convince Dandelion not to break quarantine, Geralt had agreed to let the man help him to fix up the old house. He’d expected it to go poorly, because most things involving Dandelion did (in fact, he’d hoped Dandelion would grow bored within a few days. He had not).

What Geralt hadn’t anticipated was Dandelion trying to squeeze through the old wall they were working on. It had a large hole it in, nearly at waist height, that Geralt was trying to decide the best method of covering it. At some point in the past it might have served a purpose - he vaguely recalled it being part of a dumbwaiter, but the rest of the holes had been patched up.

So they had decided just to board over it, Dandelion on one side and Geralt on the other. He’d turned his back for just a moment then turned back around to see Dandelion’s head and shoulders poking out of the wall.

Apparently he’d decided he ought to squeeze through to surprise Geralt.

It did surprise him, but then Dandelion had gotten stuck.

Once he finished laughing at him, Geralt went around to the room Dandelion had been working in to see if he might be able to get him out easier that way.

He wasn’t presented with any solutions, only Dandelion’s ass wriggling about as the man whined and protested. His hands were apparently stuck in the wall, since Geralt couldn’t see them on either side, leaving him completely incapacitated.  It seemed that in the process of wiggling through the wall Dandelion had knocked loose part of the old dumbwaiter which had slid down and pinned him. It would be an easy enough fix, he’d only have to go up into the attic and raise the pulleys, but for the time being it was most enjoyable to watch Dandelion struggle.

Unable to resist, Geralt landed a sharp smack on his butt.

“Ow!” Dandelion’s voice was somewhat muffled, given that his head was on the other side of the wall, but Geralt could hear his irritation. “What was that for?”

“Stupidity,” he replied, giving him another smack.

“Rude,” the singer grumbled. “Geralt, get me out.”

“Why should I?” retorted the Witcher. “At least if you’re stuck in a wall I won’t have to worry about you wandering off to go into town.”

“Geralt!” He struggled pathetically for a moment, then went limp. “I’m stuck,” he whined.

“I thought we had already established that, bard.” It usually amused Dandelion when Geralt used old fashioned terms like “bard” but at the moment he seemed too frustrated.  

“No, Geralt, I’m really stuck, like Winnie the Pooh in Rabbit’s hole.”

Winnie the Pooh? Geralt snorted. “How old are you again, Dandelion?”

The poet attempted to kick him, but Geralt stepped back easily, then landed another slap on his ass, then left his hand resting there.

“Geeraalt.”

“Hmm, I’m considering it.”

“Considering? Considering what?”

He didn’t speak, instead pressing his thumb between Dandelion’s asscheeks, above his hole.

Dandelion yelped as he felt the pressure through his thin leggings. “You wouldn’t! Geralt!”

Well, thought the Witcher with a grin, he didn’t actually say no. Kneeling down, he peeled back Dandelion’s pants, pressing kisses against his exposed skin. The singer whimpered and struggled.

“Settle down, Dandelion,” he said. “I’ll give you what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

In answer, the Witcher bit his ass, pulling a breathy moan from his friend. “Geeraalt.”

“Yes, Dandelion?”

“You’re cruel.”

He laughed, scratching Dandelion’s back and pushing himself up. “Where are you going?” Dandelion shouted as he stepped away.

Geralt didn’t answer, deciding it would annoy the singer more if he remained silent. He grabbed what he needed and then made his way back to his friend. Dandelion was clearly unhappy, even from only behind able to see his lower half. Geralt sat the toy he’d brought on the ground, then drizzled a bit of the lube over Dandelion’s backside.

“Please,” Dandelion whined.

“Please what?”

Dandelion sniffled. “Geralt, this is not comfortable-”

“Just say your word and I’ll stop.”

But Dandelion’s safe word didn’t make an appearance, so Geralt scooped up a bit of lube on one finger before pressing it inside the singer’s ass slowly. Dandelion twitched around him, groaning.

Geralt rested his free hand on Dandelion’s back, rubbing soothing circles, until the man was nearly limp. Then he added a bit more lube - despite Dandelion’s grumbles that he was slick enough - and pushed in a second finger.

“Now,” Geralt said, slowly spreading two fingers. “We need to have a talk about something.”

“We- what? Is this the time?” Dandelion asked breathlessly.

“You can’t go fooling about in this house, Dandelion, it’s not safe. There’s all manner of things that could hurt you. I imagine you thought it was terribly clever going through the wall, but don’t make a habit of practical jokes.”

“Geralt-”

He withdrew his fingers and struck Dandelion’s ass firmly. “Am I clear Dandelion?” he asked.

“Ow! Yes, Geralt. I’ll behave.”

Geralt didn’t believe him for one moment, and landed several more slaps on the poet’s backside.

“Geeeeraaalltttt.”

He finally stopped the punishment, deciding instead that he’d rather make Dandelion feel good. Dropping to his knees Geralt pressed a kiss against Dandelion’s hole, drawing a long, delighted whine from the singer. “Oh Geralt, please,” he moaned.

Geralt pressed lazy kisses up and down Dandelion’s thighs, using his fingers to carefully tease his cock and balls. After a few moments he slowly pressed his fingers back inside Dandelion, curling them until he found the bundle of nerves he’d been looking for.

Dandelion cried out with delight and Geralt smiled. It didn’t take much to stretch Dandelion enough - the singer liked a bit of burn when he was entered, and he was good at relaxing his muscles, so soon Geralt was unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough so that he could pull out his cock.

After applying a bit more lube, he lined up with Dandelion’s hole. “Relax,” he urged before slipping his cockhead in past the tight ring of muscle.

Dandelion let out a keening wail. Geralt paused, waiting to see if the man’s safe word would be used, but after a moment (during which Dandelion attempted to press back against him) Geralt decided it was safe to keep going.

He pulled out, gripped Dandelion’s hips, and slammed in roughly.

His friend cried out in pain, then, before Geralt could ask if he was alright, gasped, “More!”

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice. He set a brutal pace, fucking into Dandelion’s welcoming body.

He didn’t bother dragging it out, he’d already been hard since he’d see Dandelion’s ass wriggling about in the wall. Besides, he had more plans for the afternoon than a long, lazy fuck (not to mention, he preferred to keep that sort of entertainment in an actual bed).

After a few breathless minutes, Geralt felt his balls tightening and he pressed himself as deep inside Dandelion as possible, digging his nails into the singer’s tender flesh to make him whimper and clench.

That was enough to push him over the edge and Geralt groaned in ecstasy.

He took a moment after his orgasm to get himself under control, then wiped himself clean and buttoned his pants back up.

Dandelion, unable to touch himself, was still hard and desperate. “Geralt- Geralt- I- oh fuck I’m so hard,” he babbled breathlessly. “I can’t- Geralt touch me, my hands- stuck- please.”

Geralt rubbed his back slowly, then knelt down and picked up the toy he’d brought earlier. It was one of Dandelion’s that the man had brought with him, and Geralt hadn’t gotten a chance to try it out before. As a self proclaimed sex expert, Dandelion had all manner of toys, which came as a surprise to Geralt who didn’t understand why so many of them needed to be charged. The one he’d picked out even had a remote control.

He studied it for a moment, as Dandelion continued to writhe and beg. Once he was certain he’d figured it out, he carefully pushed it inside Dandelion’s ass. He stepped back, slipping the remote into his pocket.

“Hey!” Dandelion yelped. “Geralt you bastard! Take it out!”

Instead of obeying, Geralt landed a hard slap on his ass. “I think not,” he said. “I’m far happier knowing where you are, after all, so that you can’t sneak off and try to go to town.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do,” Geralt replied, eyeing his still hard cock. Knowing it would annoy Dandelion, he pulled the man’s leggings back up, pausing only to squeeze his cock and press one last kiss to his ass. Although tempted to make Dandelion remain pantsless, didn’t want to risk him getting cold (and it would annoy him to have lube and cum in his leggings, which was a good excuse for them both to soak in a tub). Then he landed one last slap on Dandelion’s ass and strode away.

He returned to the room he’d been working in earlier, where Dandelion’s head was poking out. His face was flushed and streaked with tears and dust and he had a pout on his face that no adult ought to have been able to pull off.

Geralt pulled a stool across the room and sat beside him, gently cupping his friend’s face.

“Geeraalt,” he whined pathetically.

“Pipe down, Dandelion,” the Witcher soothed, stroking his cheeks. “I’ll get you out in a few minutes.”

“Geralt my cock is going to fall off,” Dandelion moaned.

The Witcher snorted. “Don’t be so dramatic, Dandelion,” he scolded.

“I’m being completely serious, Geralt, this- this isn’t funny, it hurts,” he whined, giving the Witcher a pleading look.

Geralt discreetly slipped one hand into his pocket and clicked the button on the remote. It must have been almost instant, because Dandelion lurched and cried out.

“Feeling better?” Geralt asked, tilting his head.

Dandelion groaned. “What- ah- what color- was the toy?”

“Purple.”

“Oh gods.”

Geralt studied him with a frown. “Is that bad?” he asked worriedly.

“I like this one,” Dandelion mumbled breathlessly.

Geralt nodded, pleased that he’d not accidentally upset his partner. Then he stood and turned his back on Dandelion, picking up the discarded tools that he’d set aside when Dandelion burst through the wall. As the singer watched in horror, he started patching up the smaller holes in the wall, left over from nails and screws (and a few from a fist fight he’d once had with Eskel).

“Oh my god,” Dandelion gasped. “Geralt you aren’t actually going to- Geralt!”

“I said I’d get you out in a few minutes, Dandelion,” he said. “I’m certain you can entertain yourself until then.”

[petitprincess1]

Good Evening Ch13 (Soft and Fragile)

AO3 Link Summary: Before the incident, Alastor has a bit more of a reflection on his "lovers" and it's quite interesting on what he wishes to do to his dolls. Words: 1,738 I AM SO SORRYYYYYY!!! I got super stressed lately and my brain just froze. I really hope this chapter is worth the wait. Once again, very sorry. Warning: Obsessive and possessive thoughts and..."knifeplay" thoughts...kinda. ~~~ Hours earlier before the “oopsie” that happened at Pentious’ house, Alastor made up an excuse to go to the kitchen just so he didn’t end up strangling Vaggie, slice her throat, or say some very mean words. The intense hatred only increased when she mentioned him bringing in gumbo that had Valentino’s body in it. He was going to bury the guy to use as manure, but he was a bit pressed for time and it was rather difficult to stuff the body with aromatic herbs to keep any stench out. Plus, he didn’t feel like draining Val’s blood. Either way, he had to take a moment to breathe before walking into the kitchen.

Al tried to calm down by taking out the tongue that he took from that dead guard. Either no one has gone into the fridge yet or no one questioned the tongue. It wasn’t like it was impossible for him to have bought a cow tongue of sorts from the store. Thankfully, idiots would do anything to justify something that’s so simple.

He meant to chop this up for breakfast in the morning, but no one said that you couldn’t have an omelette in the afternoon. Besides, he still needed to make a small meal for Charlie. Alastor realized that he was going more and more towards Charlie everyday. It was surprising that the girl intrigued him, almost as much as Anthony did. Although, he was interested in them for completely different reasons. Anthony felt the closest to what could be romantic, even if it was a bit more perverse. 

All Alastor wanted to do with Anthony was make him his and only his. Majority of the people that he came into contact with were incorrigible and absolute morons, especially that Pentious. The man had no patience with any of that and wouldn’t miss them the slightest bit if they were dead...possibly not Husker. The much older man was much more hilarious to have alive, especially whenever he was angry. It was so much fun to watch his lip curl into a snarl.

However, unless it was making him pouty, Alastor never wanted to see his ethel angry at him nor did he wish to hurt him that badly. Just the very thought sent a chill up his spine as he listened to the tongue’s muscles and ligaments making a slight squishing sound as the knife sliced through them, making him feel a nice calm about him. All he wanted to do was keep Anthony all locked up for no one else to see him. Yes, the man clearly could help himself, judging the bruising on his knuckles, but he still could have died. Keeping the little minx all tied up would clearly only benefit him.

Plus, Alastor could also easily lure those mongrels to his home and he could serve up some wonderful meat pies or casseroles to his favorite toy that he will keep all snug and cozy in his basement. Oh! That reminded him that he really needed to renovate that place back at his home. Well, temporary home in Eden. Al should also warn Anthony about the constant traveling. Alastor knew that his angel may have slight worry about his proposition, but he knew that the boy would be the one to stay.  Meanwhile with Charlie….the man longed for her struggle.

As annoying as it was to try and get the doll alone, it was also thrilling to actually have someone fight. Not that Anthony didn’t fight with Alastor occasionally, it was different with Charlie. She seemed to wish to deny all attraction towards, but he could easily tell when one has hidden desire. He has felt her heartbeat quicken on her wrist, seen the hidden passion in her eyes lying beneath the disgust, and, most importantly, he can sense the morbid curiosity in her. It won’t be too long til he finally caught her in his grasp.

Alastor scrapped the tongue off of the cutting board into a frying pan that had oil, minced garlic, and chopped onion in it. He breathed in the smell and sighed happily, “Patience is a virtue.”

Niffty came into the kitchen, carrying groceries, and gasped at seeing Alastor, “OH! You didn’t tell me you would be in the kitchen! Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude. I just went to get some extra food and-”

“Don’t worry, my dear! It’s perfectly fine. After all, this is your kitchen and I’m merely intruding in on your space,” Alastor spoke charmingly and humbly. Niffty gasped even more as she placed the groceries on the counter, using a step stool, and quickly replied, “No no no! My kitchen is your kitchen, so stay as long as you wish.”

The man smiled at her and gave a polite nod, “What a sweet lady you are. Also, do you mind helping me out? Just get some eggs and whisk them up. I’m making an omelette for Charlie~”

“Awww, you’re such a sweet man!”

“...I know.” ~~~ Later on into the day, Al had come over to Charlie’s office and knocked on the door. Charlie called from the other side, “Who’s there?”

Alastor thought of a joke for a few seconds and replied, “Adore!”

It went silent for a few seconds before the golden-haired girl asked, “Adore who? I don’t think-”

“Adore is between you and I, so please open up!” Alastor exclaimed, cutting her off on purpose. There was another brief silence before the door suddenly opened up and revealed Charlie looking away from Alastor. She seemed to be annoyed, but the small reddish tint to her pale cheeks showed her keeping a smile back. She mumbled under her breath as she walked away, “That was a terrible joke and you know it was.”

The creole chuckled as he walked into her office and saw that her office was pretty decent and cozy looking, especially with plush carpeting. He leaned up against a bookshelf behind him as he raised an eyebrow at two norwegian dwarf goats that were sleeping within a pet bed that looked like a little house. Charlie sat down on the chair at her desk and asked, “Is there something that you need, Al? Oh! Also, thank you for the omelette, it was very sweet of you to make that for me. Although, I thought we ran out of certain cuts of beef.”

She gestured to the empty plate on her desk that had bits of onion on the surface, as well as some ketchup. Al nodded and replied, “You’re quite welcome, my dear~ Also, I have my resources. Anyway, I was just asking if it was alright if I head off early. Just want to do a bit of hunting, that’s all.”

Al’s grin subtly grew a bit at seeing Charlie’s skin become slightly paler when he mentioned hunting. He could just say that he was just going to go hunt some deer, but it was hilarious to think that the girl thought he was hunting humans. No, not today. She gulped and replied, “Uh, well, I guess if you have nothing else to do, then that’s okay. Just...you know...be back around dark, just so you can have the night shift. I-If you want to, of course!”

The man couldn’t help but reach towards Charlie, making her slightly flinch, and gently caress her cheek. He brushed his thumb against her skin and almost felt aroused at the softness of it. Alastor could only imagine how nice it would be to carve through it. He was sure that he barely needed to add extra pressure to slice the skin open. He hummed and then muttered in a low tone, “Of course, Charlie.Why would I ever say no to you?”

Charlie mumbled under her breath, feeling an odd chill up her spine, “Uh...I’m sure you have, especially when I don’t want you messing with my cheeks.” She slowly lowered Al’s hand from her cheek and moved it back to his side. She then concluded, “Uh, well, if that’s all, the you’re free to go, Al.”

Alastor stared at his hand for a few seconds and then nodded absentmindedly as he walked out of the room. He felt Charlie’s eyes on him as he left out and listened to the door gently creak close before she locked it. However, Al barely cared as he felt many tingles up his hand that Charlie touched. He never liked being touched...but he was definitely craving more from her.

He began walking down the hall and was trying to clear his mind when a woman ended up bumping him from behind. Al turned and saw the woman looked distraught, almost in a daze. Before he could question her, she asked, “I’m sorry, but have you seen Angelo? I...I really need to speak to him….regarding a man that he...worked with.”

Alastor blinked at her and wondered what she could possibly want with Anthony. It made his stomach tie into a knot, but he just said, “Well, Anth- Angelo is on medical leave. He got harmed pretty badly.”

Not even the slightest bit of worry in the woman’s eyes, if anything, Al saw a bit of frustration. She nodded and muttered, “...Right. I forgot...thank you.”

The woman then silently walked away from Alastor, making the man narrow his eyes at her. He’s going to have to follow her, isn’t he? Great! Right...well, maybe Charlie was right about the human thing. He could always buy venison from the butcher. ~~~ In present time, Baxter was helping Sir Pentious roll up Traci’s body in a rug, while Alastor was braiding Anthony’s slightly grown out hair and Cherri was trying to calm down. The spunky girl washed the blood off of her face and pretended the brain bits were just chewed up wads of gum. She pulled her head out from the sink and quickly grabbed some towels, wiping her face off.

Cherri was making very quiet sobs as she kept envisioning the woman getting shot over and over again in her head. It just wouldn’t end. Angelo looked at her and asked, “Hey, ya gonna be alright, Cherri?”

She turned to Angelo and took a deep breath before glaring at Al, “What the hell is wrong with you!? Why did you do that?”

Alastor scoffed, “What? It was just a bit of hunting.”

[ineffably-good]

Too Close For Comfort

Just a little piece of fluff and nonsense inspired by this tumblr post the other day...

Enjoy!

Read this on AO3

It had been a perfectly ordinary Tuesday morning, Crowley thought. He’d slept in quite late, misted and shouted at the plants, and made and downed a total of seven espressos with his nifty new kitchen toy, a shiny espresso maker that somehow never needed to be plugged in or washed. He was just downing the seventh one, standing up at the kitchen counter in the way of true Italians, when there was a sudden shimmer in the air behind him and everything went haywire.

“You got DISCORPORATED?” Crowley thundered at the shimmering, misty shape behind him that still somehow managed to retain the distinct appearance of wearing a bowtie. “How in the everliving fuck did you get yourself discorporated??”

The mist that was Aziraphale couldn’t blush, of course, but it nonetheless managed to communicate the sensation that it was blushing. “I stepped in front of a bus.”

“You stepped in front of a bus,” Crowley repeated, deadpan. “And why was that?”

“Well obviously because I was distracted!”

“You were distracted!” Crowley scrubbed a hand over his face and hair, messing it up wildly. “Oh, fine, you were DISTRACTED. There’s just the small problem with the fact that Heaven isn’t likely to give you another body, you realize. They’re not particularly cooperative about these things now that we’re on our own side!”

Mist-Aziraphale made a shushing gesture and Crowley, never having been shushed by a noncorporeal being before, found himself quieting down just at the novelty of it.

“I know, my dear, I know,” Aziraphale said. “But I have a plan. Just calm down and listen to me for a moment, please? You can yell at me later.”

“Oh I WILL,” Crowley threatened, looking grim. He plopped down on a kitchen stool and folded his arms over his chest. “Start talking.”

 --

“I don’t know whether that plan is brilliant or stupid,” Crowley groused.

“In that case,” the mist said primly, “let’s go with brilliant. It will work, Crowley, I know it will.”

Crowley frowned and considered making himself an eighth espresso just to gain some thinking time, but he discarded the notion. His nerves were on edge enough.

“So you want to merge with me,” he said. “Angel and demonic in one corporeal shell. How do you know we won’t both explode? We couldn’t do it the last time you were floating around like this.”

“Well yes,” said the mist, “but we weren’t together back then. I think it’s safe to say that we have both gotten our corporeal selves much more used to each other’s essences now. I don’t think my presence will harm you at all. And if it seems to, I will back out quick as a snap. No harm done.”

“It’s not like you have much of another option, I suppose,” Crowley said, resigned to his fate. “All right, let’s give it a try.”

He braced himself on the kitchen counter and waited. And waited. And waited.

“Anytime now, angel,” he snipped, looking up. “What’s the hold up?”

“Oh,” dithered the misty shape. “I just feel… like I’m imposing on you. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, hard. “Just get on with it.”

Mist-Aziraphale took a deep breath, managed to somehow look apologetic, and flowed into him.

No one combusted.

It was, Crowley thought, a positive sign.

 --

It was an unusual thing to be inhabiting a body with one’s boyfriend, thought Aziraphale. He had thought that he knew every inch of Crowley’s body rather intimately at this point, after over a year of dating and even once swapping bodies completely, but he found it was rather a different thing to be locked inside someone’s body while they were still in it. He found himself feeling unexpectedly shy, and rather unsure of the etiquette of the whole thing.

For example, when one wanted to take a turn using the vocal cords, did one just – do so? Or did one clear their throat politely first?

He decided to try the throat clearing trick. “Ahem,” he said politely. Crowley instinctively fought the sensation at first, then relaxed when he realized it was Aziraphale trying to speak. “I wonder, might we make a cup of tea? It’s rather… jittery in here.”

“Sure, angel, whatever you want.” Crowley headed for the kitchen and began filling a kettle.

“Ahem,” the other voice inside him said again. “Would you mind terribly if – that is to say – oh dear, this is complicated to manuever…”

Crowley turned off the water and put the kettle down. “You want to make the tea, don’t you.”

“Well, I do make it better than you do,” Aziraphale said politely. “Could I perhaps drive the body for just a moment?”

Crowley sighed and did his best to relax. “I suppose?”

Aziraphale manuevered around and happily took over the demon’s brainstem to control his physical movements; there were an uncomfortable few moments not unlike when you are changing gears in a strange car for the first time, but then everything proceeded smoothly as Crowley sat back inside his own head and watched Aziraphale put together the tea in the same fussy way he always did.

When the water had boiled and the bone china cup had been appropriately warmed before being filled with just the right amount of tea with just the appropriate dash of sugar and a saucer had been found and both had been carried to the living room and the angel-driving-the-demon had finally been seated and taken his first indulgent sip and let out a contented sigh, Crowley finally nudged at him to relinquish control of the steering wheel, so to speak, which the angel did immediately.

“Great,” Crowley said, back in control of the vocal cords. “Let’s move this into the office – I need to get on the computer.” Without waiting for Aziraphale to agree, he picked up the cup and saucer and sauntered them both into the other room, where he sprawled down in the chair and opened his laptop.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale complained, “I wanted to actually drink the tea.”

Crowley sighed and picked up the cup in a rather big hurry and took a huge gulp.

“That’s hardly the way to enjoy it, my dear,” Aziraphale said.

“Is that a pout?” Crowley said. “I absolutely refuse to let you make me pout, angel.”

He felt the angel sigh and release his control over the mouth muscles. “Very well,” he said primly. “Just give me a drink every now and then while you’re using the arms, ok?”

“They’re not ‘the’ arms,” Crowley reminded him, “they’re ‘my’ arms. And you are a guest in there.”

“I’m well aware, dearest,” Aziraphale said, sounding a little hurt.

Crowley stuffed down a vague sensation of guilt, which he was oddly aware that Aziraphale was well aware of, since they were sharing a brain, and got to work pulling up his infernal email account.

“Let’s get moving on this,” he muttered. “Time to contact the powers that be.”

 --

“I can hear you thinking,” Crowley said as he worked on writing his most threatening email to Michael, the archangel who had already demonstrated a slight moral ambiguity and willingness to play by slightly more shaded rules than the others.

“It’s just that you’re being so rude,” Aziraphale said. “Also you misspelled ‘wanker’ in line seven.”

“I’m being rude on purpose,” Crowley said, “it’s a threatening email.”

“Nonetheless, manners are important,” Aziraphale prodded.

“So, you’d like me to write a polite threatening letter.”

“It can certainly be done,” Aziraphale said. “If you’ll just give me control of the arms for a moment, I can make a few edits for you –”

Crowley shut the laptop lid. “Forget it. I’ll call her instead.”

“Oh well now, that’s a very good idea.”

 --

“Michael!” Crowley said jovially. “How’s tricks?”

“Demon Crowley,” Michael said coolly. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Need to talk with you,” Crowley said. “You see, Aziraphale’s been discorporated, and you’re going to help us out with getting him another body.”

“And why on earth would I do that?” Michael asked. “I can’t think of anything that would possibly entice me to get that traitor another body.”

“Well you see,” Crowley said, “Aziraphale has set up shop inside my corporation for the moment.”

Crowley could almost hear Michael wrinkling her nose in distaste. “That sounds unpleasant, but is hardly my concern –”

“No,” Crowley cut in. “It’s quite largely your concern. Because I now have all of the powers of Hell at my disposal, plus all of Aziraphale’s grace. Imagine what I could do with that combination?”

Michael thought for a moment. “That’s preposterous. Such a thing isn’t even possible. Your base matter is incompatible.”

Crowley gave in to the incessant nudging and allowed Aziraphale to take over the vocal cords. “Was incompatible,” Aziraphale said. On screen, Michael blinked as Aziraphale’s voice somehow began emerging from Crowley’s mouth. “We have mingled our essences enough times prior to this, however, that this is no longer the case.”

“I really don’t need to be privy to that type of information,” Michael sighed.

“And you know,” Aziraphale continued, “I can’t really do anything to stop Crowley while he’s –” he stopped and grasped for the right word – “hosting me. I can take control for short periods of time but only if he allows it. And he’s quite right that he has access to all of my powers. And all of my knowledge of heavenly infrastructure. Battle plans and whatnot.”

Michael’s eyes glittered. “You wouldn’t dare let him have full access to your memory banks.”

Crowley nudged Aziraphale and took back control. “He certainly would,” he said, “and even if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t stop me.” He waited while Aziraphale quietly fed him a few alarming bits of information. “Taking a look around right now,” he said airily. “You have exactly 124 battle regiments at present, armed with – what is that Aziraphale? Oh, stop fighting me, you idiot. I’m going to see it anyways – armed with a combination of light and heavy –”

“All right, all right,” Michael shouted, leaning forward anxiously. “What is it you want me to do?”

“You’re going to steal us a corporation,” Crowley said. “The same corporation he’s had, I know you have extras. And you’re going to deliver it to the bookshop.”

“That will take some time,” Michael muttered.

“How long?”

“Forty-eight hours.”

“Fine.” Crowley gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Nice doing business with you, Michael.”

--

“Oh, can I drive?” Aziraphale asked as they settled into the driver’s seat of the Bentley.

“Can you –” Crowley sputtered. “Absolutely not! And if you so much as touch a single neuron while I’m driving us over to the bookshop I will wait until you’ve got a body again and then kick your ass. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” sniffed Aziraphale.

 --

 Crowley swung into the bookstore and headed directly for the liquor cabinet.

“I didn’t mean to,” Aziraphale said. “It was just – you almost hit that old woman and her cart!”

“Not my fault she’s out there taking terrible risks, is it?” Crowley said, uncorking a bottle of gin and taking a long swallow.

Aziraphale spluttered. “Oh, must you, my dear? You know I dislike the taste of gin.”

“My tastebuds, my rules,” Crowley said.

On the desk to their left, Frederick awoke from that deep stillness that meant sleep and examined his pointy friend.

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I’VE BEEN HUNGRY FOR DAYS!

It had been six hours at most. Crowley huffed and went to the freezer for a mousicle. He took one out, popped it in the microwave to thaw, and turned his focus back inward.

“Anyway,” he said. “Don’t change the subject. You took control of the wheel and nearly wrecked us.”

“What was I supposed to do, close my eyes? That would have wrecked us too, since they’re your eyelids.”

“I don’t know,” Crowley sputtered. “just mentally read a book or something.”

“I will try that next time,” Aziraphale said consolingly.

The microwave dinged and Crowley made a disgusted face. “You feed him, angel,” he said.

Aziraphale, feeling agreeable, quickly popped the mouse into Freddy’s cage. “There you are, dear friend,” he said. “So sorry about the wait.”

Frederick reared up his head and examined Crowley closely.

WHY DO YOU SOUND LIKE THE FLUFFY ONE? he shouted.

Crowley took back control. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Suffice it to say that Aziraphale is in here with me for the moment.”

SOUNDS CROWDED, Frederick said doubtfully. DON’T GET ANY BIG IDEAS ABOUT PUTTING ME IN THERE TOO. YOU MIGHT HAVE EATEN YOUR FRIEND, BUT THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

“I didn’t eat him!” Crowley insisted.

LOOKS THAT WAY FROM HERE, SNAKEBIRD.

Crowley sighed and headed for the bottle of gin again.

It was going to be, they both thought in near unison, a long two days.

[danetobelieve]

Fairy Lights || Orion and Winston

Note: This happened before the eye chatzy

It was time. It was the day that they had both been waiting for. Winston and Orion had been prepping for this for days now and they finally both had a free day to fully set up the electronics, internet, cable and anything else that Rio wanted in there room. “I’m honestly beyond excited,” Winston said pulling their tool box down from the shelf in the workshop and making their way up the stairs towards Rio’s room, which was now opposite their room and beneath the massive attic that was Ricky’s room, “once we’ve got your room set up then we should definitely start thinking about how you want your corner of the workshop to look, obviously you’re gonna need a tonne of light for all the reading.” 

Orion still wasn’t completely convinced that this hadn’t all been some kind of idealistic day dream. He was almost afraid that at any moment he was going to wake up in his bed, back at the Quinn household being yelled at to get to the guest house for training. But instead, he got to wake up in a bedroom and be greeted by friends and most of the time, breakfast. It all seemed too good to be true sometimes. “I can’t believe this is real,” Rio found himself admitting to Winston, thankful that the resident tech expert was around to help make sure that things were hooked up correctly. For the most part, Rio was decent with technology. He was a computer science major so he hoped that he could function around the stuff. But it was nice to have some that knew for sure what they were doing. Plus it was just a good excuse to hang out with Winston. “I get a corner of the workshop? Woah.” What the heck was he supposed to do there? “Actually, never mind I’ll stress about that after we figure this room out.” 

“You know, living with us really isn’t that great that you’ve got to pretend that you’re in a state of disbelief about it,” Winston teased with a bright smile. Reaching up to their glasses, Winston shifted them for a moment before walking into Rio’s room backwards with their arms full of cables, a monitor and a keyboard. “Yes, you get a corner of the workshop, even if you don’t want to do anything with it I think that Ricky is insisting that we all have a space that we feel is our own. Which is super nice of him.” They had to admit that Ricky had been nothing short of saintlike, for the both of them. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to stress about it, you could even just turn it into the place that you do your college work. I only really use the workshop for college work and working on the technomancy.” They set the box down on Orion’s bed and looked around the sizeable room that had once been a library for Ricky. “So, what do you want to start with?”

 Orion rolled his eyes at Winston’s comment, clearly joking but downplaying how great the two of them had been since Rio has shown up at their door. They had gone way out of their way to make him feel welcome in the home. “I want to get my whole screen area set up first.” He waved in the direction of his desk, hoping to figure all of that out first and foremost. It was the most important part of his room by far. “This laptop basically has my entire life on it, so.” He smiled and waved the thing around for show. “After that I had some ideas... like Bluetooth maybe. Some colorful lights to go around the room. Okay admittedly that’s the end of my creativity. But it’ll be fun regardless! We can figure more things out as we go along.” Rio explained, digging into a bag that he had bought from the store with a few of the supplies and ideas that he had in mind. “My game system is already downstairs so I’m not worried about that I guess. Pretty much as long as the internet works that’s all I need. Ooh and a bookshelf obviously. But let’s start with the desk.”

“Yeah, that was obvious, I should’ve guessed screens first,” Winston replied with a smirk as they started to pull the brackets and mounts that they would need. “So you want like just the one monitor? Two? I think I have a third somewhere and you could always buy a fourth? Like basically we can set this up so that it works however you want.” They understood loving a computer more then yourself, Winston would literally kill someone if they lost their harddrive. It had everything, their research, their magical notes and less importantly their college stuff. “Well, bluetooth and mood lighting are things that we can make happen, and we can definitely hook it all up to the AI system that I am going to write to replace Alexa because I don’t trust Jeff Bezzos as far as I can’t throw him.” They pulled an extension chord from the box and plugged it in. “Can you pass me all of those metal things, I gotta stick the brackets to the wall so that you can adjust your screen height and shit.” They grabbed a screw driver and began rummaging along beneath the desk. “So, how are you settling in?”  

“I- uh, I don’t know�� Orion stumbled through, “I’ve never had anything but my laptop screen I guess. I thought I was lucky to get a single monitor I’ve never even thought about getting even more screens.” What could he possibly use that much screen space for? He supposed it would be helpful for research purposes and cross checking. Though he would need to get farther into his project of translating the text before he could ever think about actually using it for research. “I can’t believe you can just build an AI. That’s so cool. And I could totally throw Jeff pretty far, but same.” He laughed and shrugged, tossing the requested metal objects over to Winston and standing off to the side as Winston grabbed a drill and explained that they could hang his monitor. Like on the wall. Winston was way too cool. “You’re joking right?” Rio has strayed away from the desk to take in the room and try to plan how he could hang the lights. He wondered how many lights were too many or if that number existed. “I don’t think I had much of a choice besides settling in. You guys forced me to a burden.” He was joking of course, he was overly gracious for all they had done, “You’re both like the best roommates anyone could ask for. Besides the fact that I’ve been thrown through a window and almost drowned now following you places. Which for the record, I totally did because you went there.”

“Cool so we’ll start with two and then you can decide if you need more, I personally think three is perfect but everyone is different.” Winston worked quickly, it wasn’t that hard really, most ot the work was done for them, all they had to do was mount the struts and attach everything securely to the wall. “I have never actually built an AI before, but I don’t think it should be that much hardwork, plus I’ve got a few side projects going on that mean that it might be easier, I’m kind of toying with a few ideas on incorporating magic into things further, we’ll see I guess.” Winston smirked gently at Orion’s joke, it was a cute joke. Frowning gently, Winston shook their head. “Not joking at all, you’ve seen some of the shit that Ricky makes, drilling holes in walls is nothing.” They laughed gently and shrugged. “Yeah, I think we’re now kind of duty bound to be extra nice to you because we keep putting you in dangerous situations, although, we got some good information from the lake and the mime place, the killer mimes weren’t exactly our fault either, so, it could be worse. We had Skylar over for a dinner party and almost got turned into dinner by the giant crabs that attacked.” 

“Yeah, for sure. It’s a good start.” Orion agreed, staring up at the walls of the ceiling. It wasn’t that the ceilings were unfathomably tall, but Rio was only 5’8. He would need a ladder or some kind of step stool if he had any hope of hanging those lights. “Oh right. Building an AI sounds so easy. Just a day’s work.” Rio stated nonchalantly just as Winston had made it sound. Magic or not, it was impressive. He rested his chin into the palm of his hand, pondering a plan of action. “You’re not duty bound to do anything for my technically speaking, but considering your mime fireballed me…” Rio shrugged watching as Winston worked their magic. Or well, considering Winston really could work magic, Rio supposed Winston was just plain old working right now. But Rio enjoyed watching Winston work. He pretty much enjoyed any time he got to spend with Winston. “Yikes. I can’t say I’m especially heartbroken that I never had to deal much with the creepy karkinoid things. But I’m glad you all weren’t hurt.” He fell back on the bed and continued watching Winston, realizing maybe a bit too late that Winston was working to put Rio’s monitor together for his own room. “I’m literally not doing anything. I should probably lend a hand. Considering it’s my room and all.” He face palmed himself and then jumped off of the bed, “Do you need me to hold something in place or do anything while you drill? Not sure if you heard or not, but I am pretty strong despite the lack of muscles.”

“I mean, the majority of the coding that it would require is probably accessible through open source software libraries, the majority of the other stuff that I would need it to uniquely coded to the home would be difficult, but I can’t see it being completely impossible, plus I really enjoy it so it isn’t like it’s work or anything like that.” Winston shrugged. They’d always found tech so much easier then anything. It just worked for them and they understood how to make it do what they wanted. “Yeah, I feel like if your mime had fireballed me then I would also be pretty pissed, and … sorry that I didn’t tell you about the magic and you had to find out that way. I’m … well believe it or not I am really new to all of this and I don’t really like telling people about the magic because there is a vampire that hunts spellcasters and it’s dangerous…” they swallowed gently and turned back to their work. “But she just thinks I’m good with tech so we’re safe for now.” They paused and sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad that I wasn’t hurt too, and I’m very glad that you got to avoid dealing with them.” Pausing for a second longer, Winston took a long breath and realised they needed something from their kit. “Pass me the pencil in the top of the tool and then can you hold the monitor in place whilst I make sure that it’s all lined up so it isn’t crooked.” Winston marked the various spots on the wall and positioned the drill before beginning on the holes. “Is that because you’re a hunter? Like genetically?” Winston asked curiously. 

“Oh right. Super easy. I think I’ll just do it, since you explained it and everything.” Orion laughed, not even sure where he would possibly begin to try to do something like that, and he had the basics of coding down. He wasn’t great at it, but he understood how it worked. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’re super impressive.” Rio assured, his face turning red immediately and trying to backtrack, “it’s. I think it’s super impressive. Like your tech skills is what I meant. Not that you’re not impressive. But like I was talking about it specifically. You know? Okay.” He needed to shut himself up immediately. He welcomed the opportunity to talk about secrets instead. “Please, don’t apologize to me about that. It’s not like I offered up my secret or anything either. You’re not obligated to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Rio was curious by nature, but he didn’t consider himself especially nosey. He liked learning but liked to keep that separate from learning about others private lives. He had learned from his mistake with Skylar. It was their story to tell, not his to seek out. “Right, well make sure to keep your distance. And let me know if she does anything sketchy. Not that I can really do much, but I want to make sure you stay safe.” He didn’t know anything about the witch hunter in town, but knew enough. A hunter was a hunter, no matter what it was that they targeted. They couldn’t be trusted. Rio jumped at the opportunity to help, picking up the monitor in one hand and reaching to grab the pencil with his free hand. He held the monitor up, balancing it against the wall and passed the pencil off. “Yeah. Being born a hunter comes with some perks. Or I guess you could call them perks. Enhanced strength, heightened senses. Night vision. All stuff I can’t really complain about, but wish I never had.”

“I’m sure you would work it out eventually and I could help, it could definitely be a group project.” Winston really liked Orion. He made them laugh. He was kind. He cared about helping other people, so much so that he had rejected a family of hunters because he knew that what they were doing was not right. Winston felt a warm glow over take them and gave Rio a bright smile. “Thanks dude, I’m glad that I impress you so much.” They weren’t sure that they had been called super impressive by anyone. But they knew that they liked it. “Either way, I think you’re trying to compliment me and I’m just going to take it.” Winston paused and nodded. “Okay, thanks, I just, I wanted to explain myself because I would really love to show off to more people but I can’t and I didn’t want you to think that it was because I didn’t trust you, because I cannot express to you how glad I am that I met you watching anime and then I sleep walked in on you and you know, this is awesome. I’m glad you’re here.” Winston was worried that they might have said too much in that moment, but they really enjoyed Orion living with them and they weren’t about to apologise for it. This definitely was not a mistake. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got it under control and Nell wouldn’t let her hurt me and you know then there's everyone else who might help.” Winston paused to consider Rio’s reply. “Just because you were born with gifts that has been used one way, doesn’t mean you can’t use those gifts to help others.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say no to a group project. I love helping you with stuff. But I definitely think I’ll let you take charge on the AI thing. I can help clean up coding along the way or something where I’m more involved like in a support role. I can keep the coffee flowing for you.” Orion felt himself blushing, and he was exactly sure why. Of course Winston impressed Rio, he shouldn’t be embarrassed by that. And yet the idea that Rio had something wrong or suggestive was mortifying to him. “I’m definitely complimenting you. Just not like weirdly complimenting you. If that makes sense. I don’t think it does. Let’s ignore that comment.” Oh boy. Now Winston was complimenting Rio. And Rio really didn’t know how to handle that. He couldn’t imagine how red his face must be at the moment. “I- uh feel the same way. Seriously, I just am really bad at expressing it apparently. But like... you sorta changed my entire life, when you accidentally strolled into the Scribe building, so I can’t thank you enough for your friendship and stuff.” His mouth felt dry as he tried to express his gratitude to Winston. Winston was a majority of the reason that Rio had finally gotten the courage to leave, and was certainly part of the reason he had made the progress he had with the Scribe building. It felt weird expressing feelings like this, but Rio didn’t mind it. “Good. I think you’re pretty capable by yourself, but it makes me feel better that Nell knows about it too. She’s awesome.” Winston made the same argument that others had made for Rio’s abilities, and of course they were right. Rio wished he could separate the powers from the family, to make himself hate the gifts a little less. “It just doesn’t seem fair. This... I don’t know what to call it. Curse? That doesn’t sound right either. But I just wish I was a normal human sometimes.”

“Cool, well, I’ll see what needs doing around here and if we think of something else we can work on that too.” Winston wasn’t going to say no to help, nor a chance to hang with Rio. They listened carefully, patiently to everything that Orion had to say. They were maybe the only person that they had ever met who stumbled over their own words as much as Winston did. “I get it, you’re complimenting me.” They smiled. Rio didn’t make them feel nervous or uncomfortable. Not like so many other people in this supernatural world. Miriam, Deirdre, hell even Athena. Not to mention all the other weirdos that were out there. Hunters, Slayers, Wardens, they were all just a piece of the puzzle but none of that seemed to factor into it with Rio. “Don’t worry, sometimes explaining things is easier … well I was going to say said then done but that’s not helpful,” they laughed and shrugged, “I get it. We’re both happier now we’re doing this shit. It’s cool.” They smiled and turned back to their drilling, placing the wall bracket and beginning to mount the monitors. “Curse seems dramatic, but I think you’re looking at it in the wrong light. You’re not a weapon or a tool, you’re a person. Sure, you’re not /entirely/ human but these days who is? I know i’m not, you now know for sure that Ricky is also … not. Some of my best friends are barely even a little human. The world sucks, and you’ve got super strength and regeneration? I don’t think that’s a curse at all. Sounds a lot more like a blessing to me. Not just for you, but everyone else that you decide to help with it. 

Despite the way Orion seemed to specialize at stuffing his foot in his mouth, seemed to understand what Rio was trying to say. Rio enjoyed how much the two had in common. He had made a good amount of friends the last few months, and they were all the kind of people that Rio never thought he would actually have made friends with. Winston was one of the few that Rio seemed to have a lot in common with. But for fear of embarrassing himself again, Rio decided that they two had already had their heart to heart. So instead of trying to form some sappy response, Rio laughed and nodded at Winston and focus on the human topic instead. “I don’t know what you mean, when have I ever been dramatic?” Rio asked innocently. He would reign a halo if one of his hands wasn’t be used to hold a monitor in place. “But yeah, I get your point. It’s weird. I want everyone that’s not human to embrace themselves and understand that they’re not a monster or evil like the narrative tells them. And then I can’t do it for myself.” For some reason, when Winston said it Rio actually wanted to believe the words. “Thank you, seriously. I really want to help. And I know you do too. I don’t really know much about your world. Magic and all. I’d love to learn more about it. Like your experience with it, I mean.”

“Well, there was the time that someone threw a fireball at you, there was the time that we were running from that mime spider, there was the time that you arrived at our house drenched from the rain because you’d been too dramatic to ask us to pick you up…” Winston scratched their chin in faux confusion, “need I go on?” They smirked gently, hoping that Rio would take the teasing in the good natured manner that it had been given. They finished placing the monitor on the wall and settled on the desk for a moment, drawing their knees up under their chin and drumming their long fingers against the wooden top. “Sometimes the hardest advice to accept is your own, believe me, I learned that one the hard way.” They pulled themselves to their feet and wandered over to the bed to take a good look at it from a distance. “That looks straight? Right?” Winston should probably get a spirit level, but if Rio couldn’t notice then they wouldn’t have to. “I mean, dude, I don’t know what to say, there isn’t that much to tell, I’ve been doing it for just more then five months now and for the first three months I was stumbling along uselessly in the dark. The last two months, well we’re getting there but I’ve still got a very long way left to go.” Winston shrugged gently and began hooking up the LAN cable that they’d need to hardwire Orion’s computer into the internet. “You probably have more experience then me.” 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Rio faked a laugh in Winston’s direction and tried to go for a fake pouting face. “I don’t see how the fireball thing was my fault. Okay well I guess I was the one that actually dove through the window, but that was the only way I could think to get away from it.” He defended himself, though he was grinning the whole time. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. Not sure I’ve ever taken my own advice to find out for myself.” He shrugged. He meant it as a joke to keep the mood light, but his tone felt flatter than it had before. Self esteem issues were no fun, especially when he was trying to tone them down. He knew how Ricky got around self deprecation and he was trying to avoid anymore compliment battles with him in the kitchen. When Winston got everything screwed in they both took a step away and tried to figure out if everything was hanging properly, “I don’t know. I feel like we covered that I don’t really understand straight very well.” Rio tried to remain serious for effect, but was giggling by the end of the sentence. He needed to brighten the mood a bit. “Got it. So this world is all pretty much new to you then?” Rio asked them, absentmindedly pushing at the mounted monitor to see just how easy it was to adjust it. That was way cool. “I’ve known about the supernatural for as long as I can remember. I never knew much about witches aside from the existing. There were a few that helped out hunters sometimes but besides that all I know is how strong they can be. I’m glad you’re getting a better handle on it though.”

“In your defense, if someone threw a fireball at me then I would also probably leap through a giant pane of glass in an attempt to get away from it.” Winston smirked gently, Rio was cute. That grin was very cute, even if it was shit eating. “Well, maybe you should break that bad habit and for the first time in your life you should take your own advice, I know that seems like a novel thought but who knows what you would be able to do if you took some advice better then my own for once?” It was Winston’s turn to grin now. Rio was actually really funny when you let him get out of his shell. He was smart too. “Ha, you kill me dude,” Winston adjusted their glasses and shook their head as they laughed. “Literally dude, I found out that werewolves were real less then five months ago, maybe slightly more at this point but fuck, yeah, all super new, all super terrifying.” They were still wrapping their head around their new reality and there were many days where Winston simply sat there wondering what the hell had gone on to make all of this happen. “I’m starting to learn a lot more and there are lots of paths to take, like a coven asked if I wanted to join, I said know, but you know that’s always an option.” Winston perched on the end of the bed. “It’s pretty scary sometimes, this, whole deal, but then people like you are always here to help and … that really helps.” 

“You know, sometimes I take Ricky’s advice too. Works about as well as yours.” Orion seemed to be making some progress, as far as his anxiety went. He felt more comfortable around Ricky and Winston daily. He was able to joke around with them, hang out with them while feeling relatively at ease. He was even able to play some of his games around them, which he had never been comfortable enough with before. He had always enjoyed watching them play games, but had always talked himself out of playing any himself while they were there. “Yeah… that’s a lot to take in all at once.” Rio couldn’t imagine the culture shock. Once it began, it all poured in at once too it seemed. That must have been a pretty stressful time. “I think you’ve handled it all really well though. Considering everything.” And he wasn’t lying about that, Rio wouldn’t have known that Winston had just learned about the supernatural without Winston telling him just now. He really seemed like a natural. “But uh, you know I’ll always help however I can… Can I ask why you said no to the coven?”

“Ricky’s advice is usually better then mine,” Winston replied with a smirk, “he usually knows when something is a bad idea, I just don’t usually do anything that will probably get me killed. Usually. Ok, maybe it is the other way around.” Winston was glad that they were beginning to see Rio come out of his shell a little bit more, of all of the people who were new to their life Winston was beyond glad that Rio was among them. He was important. “Yeah, I won’t lie, it was a bit of a change, but some of it has been really cool. Like, I find it difficult to really find a good reason to complain about being given the ability to cast magic spells, there are much worse things that someone could have to deal with let’s be real.” Winston smirked gently and shrugged. “Thanks dude, it is what it is, can’t change any of it now, just got to keep going you know.” They considered it for a second. “The person who invited me, it’s their coven, like they’ve always been part of it and we’re really good friends, I just, I want this journey to be mine. I worry that joining a coven would get political and plus coven’s have rules and no offense, I kind of don’t want to be restricted by more rules.”

“Well we’ve lived through everything. So I think that’s all that matters.” Orion shrugged. Putting himself in danger wasn’t exactly Rio’s favorite thing to do. Nor did it make any of his top ten lists. But for Winston? Rio supposed he could make an exception or two. Rio was pretty sure he’d do just about anything for his roommates at this point. Especially because someone needed to be the levelheaded one. “The supernatural world can be really cool. Besides all the, like horrors and dangers of it.” Rio found his fascination with the subject was hard to explain. On one hand, he loved learning about the supernatural and their cultures. On the other hand, he knew that they had to live in fear. Of people exactly like Rio. “But it’s awesome learning about what others can do and what makes them unique.” And that was all he really wanted, and it seemed like his beliefs lined up pretty well with Winston’s too which was nice. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but I get it. You deserve that time to grow for yourself.” Rio wished there was a way that he could help Winston more. Maybe they could find some more information on magic at the Scribe building to share. Something that could help them learn about magic without the need for a coven. “Besides, a coven is just like a… family you know? And you already have that.” Wow that was corny. Rio sighed at himself, rubbing at his temples and now digging through the bag to pull out the lights he had bought. “I need a step stool if I’m supposed to be tall enough to hang these.”

Swallowing, Winston shrugged and looked to the rest of the room. They still had work ahead of them, but it wasn’t as if this was difficult. “I just wish it was less violent, maybe that’s naive of me but I just don’t see why everyone is so insistent on killing each other all of the time. Like, we get it, you don’t like each other. Chill out please.” Fiddling with their glasses, Winston straightened them on their face once more and shrugged. “Exactly, I’ve got my own coven; though most of them aren’t witches. It’s not even just the whole family thing though, I don’t know. There feels something different or difficult about it, I’m not ready for that step yet.” Winston bit their lip as they tried to think of how to explain it. Nell’s coven just left a bad feeling in their stomach. Winston looked up at the ceiling and tried to think of the best way that they would be able to do this. “Can you like lay out on the floor how you want your fairy lights because I’ve got a cool idea that I want to try out, but I need to know how you want it to look first?” 

“You and me both. But it won’t stop. Or well… they won’t stop.” Orion wished that it would of course, but he knew that it was just wishful thinking. The hunters would never give up on their quest.  They were too sanctimonious. Convinced that they had some right above others to extinguish life from this planet. It wasn’t fair or right, but they couldn’t be convinced of that. Of course, Rio wasn’t completely blind. They knew that the supernatural could be dangerous too. It was all a messed up situation. “I get it. And sorry… to bring it up and all. I support whatever you want to do.” At Winston’s suggestion, Rio knelt down, arranging the lights along in a row. “Maybe some kind of strings like this? I thought it might be cool to have a single wall of them that I could hang pictures or something on. I don’t know. I can obviously get the lower stuff but the top of the wall won’t be easy.

“It won’t stop if people take that attitude to it,” Winston replied with a shrug, “but it does suck, no one needs to be dealing with someone hunting and hating them just because of what they are.” Winston paused for a second and wondered how they would actually ever be able to effect real change on such a dangerous and difficult world. “Thanks, that means a lot. I don’t think I will do anything, at least not yet.” There was still too much for them to learn. There were so many points of view in the supernatural world and Winston didn’t want to become biased. “Cool, okay, let me try something new.” They smiled and grabbed the end of the fairy lights, plugging them into the wall, they flicked the switch on. Pausing for a moment before reaching out carefully, Winston extended their presence and will. Feeling the flow of energy surging through the wires and illuminating the tiny bulbs, Winston began to move the wire. It wiggled a little as they got used to the motion before carefully beginning to snake it’s way up the side of the wall before settling in place. “Like that?” 

“I don’t mean to be a buzzkill,” Orion started. He didn’t know how to explain it to Winston without sounding even more pessimistic. That people like his family wouldn’t stop until they were stopped. And Rio hadn’t figured out how to do that yet. “I just- I don’t know. Sorry. I don’t really want to be the kind of person that thinks that way. It’s just hard, I guess.” He didn’t really know what he was saying anymore. Rio was happy to focus instead on the lights, which Winston was putting up… like with their mind. “Holy woah.” Rio held his hand up towards the wall but stopped himself before getting in the way of Winston’s magic. “This is perfect. I can’t believe that you can just… do this y’know? That’s so cool!”

“It’s cool, I get it. The stuff you’ve experienced has tinegd your perception and I would probably feel the same. But I’ve got to believe that we can change things. Otherwise I have to live in a world I don’t like.” Winston wasn’t about to sit idly anymore. They could affect real change. “I get it though.” Winston felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of their temple. They could feel the exhaustion in them. A shortness in their breath. They were still getting used to magic and show off had taken it’s slight toll. “Thanks, I’m still fucking around with the tech magic, but I think there’s some real potential outside of wire hanging.” Winston couldn’t help but grin. It felt good to impress Orion. 

“No, you’re right. And I want things to be like that too. I just haven’t figured out how that’s possible.” Orion wanted to be like Winston, positive thinking and not willing to withstand any less than. How did Rio get himself to be like that? “Yet, at least.” Maybe the trick was to just stick around with Winston. That was assuming Winston didn’t get them killed first. Rio was staring at the wall, watching as the lights snaked across the wall. But he heard the change in Winston’s breath. He turned around, noticing the swear pooling on their face. “Are you okay?” Rio moved back over towards Winston to get a better look. “Is that what using the magic does to you?” Rio questioned. It made sense, thinking about it. The energy for the spells had to come from somewhere. But was it dangerous? It had to be, if overused. “You need water or something?”

“I don’t know either, but we’ll work something out and see if we can change things, but I know that’s not super likely.” Winston shrugged gently and smiled, it was a hard road but it was nice that they had friends along with them to help them along the way. Winston just hoped that it all worked out in the end. Though they weren’t sure how they would. “Yeah, I’m okay, I kind of need to keep trying to flex the magical muscles as much as I can so that I can develop more and keep the stuff going, I don’t know if that makes sense.” Winston shrugged and looked at their shoes. “Magic requires energy, I have a theory about using electricity to power magic but right now that isn’t the point, when I use magic, the energy comes from me which is exhausting. But this was worth it.” 

“I think if anybody can do it, it’s probably you. Or well, us I mean. Like us working together.” Orion shrugged. He still wasn’t incredibly optimistic. But he knew that if he thought there was a world that could change. It started with people like Winston and Blanche, others that were excited to learn about the supernatural and embrace the differences instead of fearing and condemning it. “And by us I mean like… all of us. Blanche and Ricky and Nell and others too.” Rio listened to Winston explain about the magic using up energy. He wasn’t going to pretend to understand how it would work to use technology to power magic, but Winston didn’t seem to have all the answers yet either. Rio would just let Winston work on that. “Do you exercise a lot?” Rio found himself asking. “Uh- Well having the enhanced strength and senses that hunters have, we expend a lot of energy when we do stuff. So we tend to have big appetites and get tired out quickly. So one of the big things that we are taught is training up endurance. So that you can go longer when the time comes. Maybe we could… try something like that? The more physical endurance and energy you have, I bet the same goes for your magical ability potential.”

“Well it isn’t like that is a lot of pressure to put on one guy, so let’s go with working together. But yeah, I think we can make a change. Winston bit their lip for a second and gazed at Rio thoughtfully, they were a good friend and maybe a better person. Winston paused for a moment and nodded. “I get it, we all have to pull our weight if this is going to work.” They shrugged gently and shook their head. “I know it looks like I’m super unfit but I’m also slightly asthmatic which makes exercise … interesting, so, you know I try and work out, but yeah, it would probably be a good idea to do it more…”

Orion still had doubts, for sure. He was skeptical that there was any chance he could convince the hunters that things could change. But he knew hunters that had already started to doubt the way of life. Maybe it wasn’t as far off as Rio thought it was. “It sounds really cheesy right? But whatever. Someone has to do it, I guess.” He wanted to stay positive for Winston and for Blanche and others that actually wanted the change. “I don’t think you look unfit” Rio mumbled, hoping that didn’t sound weird to say to them. “But uh- swimming! We could try swimming? Swimming is specifically recommended to those who have asthma. Sometimes chlorinated swimming pools can though so we would want to be careful with that.” Rio trailed off, thinking of places that they could try out. “I guess the ocean, but the place doesn’t seem like the safest right now.”

“I’m sure we can think of something, but usually I’m fine around pools. Besides it’s not like I’m going to die of an asthma attack any day now, it’s just something I have to manage. Usually it’s not even a huge problem at all, but yeah, it would be cool to do something like that with you.” Winston smiled gently and nodded, swimming was something that they could manage. Although the last time that they had been in water it hadn’t ended well, they were sure that wasn’t going to happen everytime.

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader - Whumptober - 11 Stitches

11 Stitches

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I was having strong emotions about anger of ragnorak so um don’t read if you are very very in favor of ragnorak sorry I’m just super emotional about that obedience disk :(

Also my vision is doing really weird things so my hands feel not connected to my body so extra sorry about typos - I tried to catch them but it’s a weird feeling when I’m not feeling like I’m actually typing

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The crowd slowly dispersed as Loki, Thor and Valkyrie walked back through it towards from where the denizens had gathered in a sort of assembly area and off to what would be more private quarters.

'So king then?' Loki asked, a half smile on his face.

'It suits me, don't you think?' Thor responded, reaching out to grip Loki's shoulder.

Loki smiled, side stepping and avoiding Thor's friendly attempt at bonding. 'Yes, I think it's time you stepped into the role.' The younger brother nodded, easing his shoulder slightly and rolling his arm as he nodded.

Thor tilted his head curiously but continued smiling.

From your vantage point in the crowd, you watched the exchange curiously, carefully cutting through the throngs of people. You moved like water, easily passing unnoticed. No one ever noticed you, always in a long dark shawl, covered largely from head to toe, your face mostly uncovered but still, deep within the folds of your shawl, buried beneath your robes. The many workings of your craft smuggled beneath the layers of your robes. Still you moved nearer, listening intently to what the trio were discussing.

Valkyrie interjected, 'You've been favoring that shoulder since you arrived on Asgard, I've noticed.'

'I have not.' Loki muttered.

'He has not.' Thor retorted.

Valkyrie looked first at Loki then suspiciously at Thor. 'Has he not?'

Loki stopped rotating his arm and straightened his face immediately, looking at her disinterestedly. 'I'm fine.' He insisted.

'So if I were to touch it right now?' Lightning fast, Valkyrie lunged towards Loki, moving as if to grip his shoulder.

Loki jumped back, a sharp cry of pain escaping his mouth, instantly snapping shut as he glared at her, his hands rising in a defensive position.

Slowly Valkyrie straightened, returning to a neutral stance and crossing her arms. She looked at Thor. 'He wasn't injured in the battle, not in any substantial way, and when I brought him to you he was mostly in tact. What happened?'

'I'm fine.' Loki muttered through grit teeth.

Thor smiled thinly, 'You heard him, he's fine.'

Deciding now might be the best time to interject before things escalated, you stepped forward and revealed yourself from the crowd, pulling back the cowl of your hood. 'If I might be of service,' You spoke softly, lowering your hood. Valkyrie and Thor spun around, looking to see who had spoken. Loki, for his part, his eyes fell immediately upon you, as though he had been watching you the entire time. A small part wondered if he had. 'I am a gifted healer, I always have been, even before my conscription into the Grandmaster's service when my skills were greatly limited. Perhaps I could look to see if there is even a slight amount of marring to his majesty's visage, if only just. I can see only a the barest harm that might have befallen him causing even the slightest amount of discomfort, any inconvenience though it may be, no matter how slight, could potentially be at risk to any future endeavors.'

Thor nodded thoughtfully, 'If it were very slight it could be a future problem, I would approve of you looking at it. What do you think, Loki? I'm sure it's only a mild thing.'

Loki rolled his eyes and grit his teeth. 'Yes, something only very minor. I wouldn't want to inconvenience his majesty.'

'If you would, my prince,' You gestured towards Loki, bowing low, 'I imagine there is a more private room that I could view the injury, so that we do not inconvenience your brother.' As you bowed low before Loki you looked up at him and for a brief second, you offered the smallest smile and a slight wink.

There was a brief hesitation from him where he looked at you curiously. Loki glanced at Thor, 'I'll be fine brother, I'm certain if this woman holds ill will towards me, I'll be fine, it's obviously only a slight injury, as you say.'

For a moment, Thor seemed to shift nervously despite himself, then he nodded. Valkyrie looked between the two brothers and scowled rolling her eyes before following after Thor.

Loki held out his arm for you to walk beside him, the arm he seemed to be favoring and walked a short distance before seeming to choose a room at random and walking in. Inside there was a single cot, wash basin, stool and table.

Loki crossed the room and leaned against the table, attempting to cross his arms before giving up and staring at you curiously.

'Who are you?'

You told him your name honestly. Then added, 'I'm a healer, very gifted, though I don't usually get to practice the full extent of my healing abilities given the nature of the gladiator battles. I'm sure you saw much of that on your time...' You trailed off.

'I am trying to forget about my time spent there. I wish I had been able to take a greater amount of revenge on that wretched beast.'

You sighed, 'You and me both.' Shaking your head, you sat down on the cot.

'Why did you separate me from my brother? What really was the purpose of that simpering?'

You raised an eyebrow, 'Honestly? I can spot an injury a mile away, I know what long exposure from an obedience disk looks like, I know the symptoms, and I can smell the ozone on you.'

'Excuse me?'

'Burnt skin. Obedience disks superheat your veins but yours was on long enough to burn skin, I don't know what slaver left it on you for that long but given the guilt our newfound king has, I'm guessing it was him.'

'You could tell all this from smell alone?'

'I use my senses. I'm trained to fix what the Grandmaster breaks, he can't play with his toys if he breaks them all.' You looked at Loki pointedly. 'And those obedience disks are perfect, the way your veins turn blue? That shows up externally, there's only so much damage they can do beneath the surface before they start to show up on the surface, so if you have surface damage that I can smell?' You shook your head.

Loki eased himself onto the table so he was seated, looking at you impressed. 'You are a master at your craft then.'

'I've been on Sakaar a long time.'

'I would love to understand the way time works there, it's a fascinating concept.'

You chuckled and shook your head, 'Can't help you there sorry, I can just fix injuries.'

Loki nodded, and sighed, 'The library of Asgard, burned and razed... And Thor's new friend makes jest of it.'

'Yea, I noticed that poignant moment. I thought that moment of silence was touching for all of a,'

Loki interrupted you, 'Did we have a moment of silence? I think it cut straight to his commentary.'

You smiled wryly, 'From my position towards the back of the ship, it felt like it, if it makes you feel better.'

Loki smiled, 'Perhaps a bit. I will take that to heart. The Asgardians mourned properly and those who fought for Asgard attempted to.'

'We've all lost homes, we tried to be respectful. It hurts.' You jerked your chin towards his green garb, and straightened up, standing once more. Undoing the layers of your shawls, you revealed medical supplies stashed away in your clothing.

A hint of pink touched at Loki's cheeks as you seemed to undress, only to reveal more clothes beneath your many layers. He seemed worried that you were undressing, but really, just more clothes underneath. Slowly he straightened up as he watched you, pulling out medical supply after medical supply, each more complex than the last, but clearly with burn treatment in mind. Salves and ointments, stitches and analgesics, anything to heal and treat.

'So you were flattering Thor, into letting him agree to treat me...' Loki said slowly as he stared down at you.

You walked over to the table, laying your things out beside him. Nodding, you set the pieces down at as he stared at you imperiously.

'What made you so certain I would agree to being assisted?' Loki asked.

'Because you're not a fool, and you're in pain.'

Loki squinted at you, opening and closing his mouth several times. 'What makes you think I trust you?'

You paused, stopping to look over at him and considered your response. 'You are already here in this room with me, you know you could easily overpower me, even in a weakened state, you're on a ship full of allies, even if I betrayed you, I wouldn't get far, I would gain far more in betraying Thor over you in the grand scheme of things, considering that he is now king, and I am aware of your previous reputation in Asgard which among the common people isn't actually that bad but I know that you're supposed to be sneaky but they spoke well of your time as ruler in the guise of Odin and by that judgment, I've made the decision that I like you better.'

Loki blinked. He was silent for a moment, 'What?'

Inhaling, you made to repeat yourself.

Loki held up his hand, 'No I heard you, what I didn't get was that you like me better, than who?'

'Than Thor?'

Loki tilted his head to the side and stared at you curiously. Slowly he started picking at his hand. 'I'm confused.'

'Well, surely a king who would torture his own brother with an obedience disk can't be as golden as everyone makes him out to be.'

Loki sighed, 'He did think I was going to betray him, I told him I was going to hand him in to the Grandmaster for the ransom money.'

You raised an eyebrow at him before returning to arranging your things on the table, 'Wow, that seems really uncharacteristic of you.'

Loki muttered under his breath, 'Tell me about it...'

'I mean, I really think I panicked in that moment, anything to stop him from a suicide mission back to Hela and Asgard, but as always his idiotic plans work out, without rhyme or reason. As if some divine being says they will and so they do.'

Finding a yet unnoticed cabinet, miraculously stocked with alcohol, courtesy the Grandmaster's probable alcoholism, you pulled out the bottle and took a sniff. Turning towards Loki, you uncorked the bottle and held it out to him, 'This will help, it's going to be painful treating it.'

Loki looked down at the bottle and sighed, shaking his head. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he tilted back his mouth and downed as much as he could stomach in one gulp. He lowered the bottle and shuddered at the sickly sweet taste, grimacing. 'Fantastic.' He muttered, handing the bottle back to you, 'Alcohol for surgery, 'Truly barbaric.'

'I don't have any intravenous drips which I'd prefer, but I do have some ointments so you won't be only relying on alcohol.' You explained.

Loki nodded. 'Right.' Leaning against the table, you could tell his head was already swimming, whatever the Grandmaster kept, it was strong stuff.

You briefly considered that maybe you should have checked the contents before having Loki drink it, given the nature of the Grandmaster's sordid affairs...

Pushing the thought from your head you instructed Loki to take his top off and lie down on the cot. Loki made no complaints this time, grumbling a bit, wincing and keening softly as the fabric ripped at his freshly healing flesh. You helped him peel the leather overguard from his top first, tossing it gently to the floor, and folding it neatly. Before the softer green undershirt. This one proved more difficult as there was burned and cracked bleeding skin clinging to it. Peeling the shirt off, tore the skin from his body and he let out quiet cries with each movement.

When he was finally shirtless, standing there before you in his muscled, bare chest glory, you let out a soft gasp staring at him in awe. You had seen many specimens of all sorts of species of varying ages and genders, but Loki... he really stood out, even despite the infected injury on his shoulder, the burns radiating from where the obedience disk had stayed for far too long. Loki stood for a moment, swaying slightly as he stared down at you, a slight touch of pink on his cheeks as his gaze fell on yours, was it the alcohol or perhaps something else. Your gaze drifted over his chiseled abs, up to the … your gaze halted as your eyes fell on a deep scar on his chest, what appeared to be an impalement straight through his heart. You moved around to his back, under the guise of checking closer on the veins, but saw that you were right, the scar on the front matched directly with a scar on his back. Somehow, Loki appeared to have survived a stab wound straight through his chest. You blinked in confusion. Or perhaps not survived. Either way, he appeared to be alive and mostly well standing before you, needing otherwise medical care in other areas, unrelated to a impalement. That is to say, a patient who had been struck through the heart was being seen not because they had been struck through the heart.

Loki swayed a bit.

You came back to your senses, 'Why don't you lay face down on the cot for me.'

Loki nodded tiredly, 'That is some bloody strong drink.' He muttered, voice slightly slurred.

'Remind me next time to check what's in the alcohol I subject my patient's to.'

Loki chuckled. 'You think?'

You shook your head, 'This is for pain relief, I know what it is, it's an herb. It dissolves on the tongue.'

Loki nodded, accepting the offered herb and resting it on his tongue. He scrunched his nose up at the bitter taste and shook his head before stumbling and all but collapsing onto the small cot. He sighed, resting his face on his arms as the blissful numbness slowly spread through him. Mumbling into his arms, he spoke, 'This is nice.'

'Yes, well the relief isn't forever, it's enough to get you feeling better so I can operate on your veins to get the worst of the infection out and then get you closed back up. I know Asgard has some very high quality medical technology, I always dreamed of using your knowledge.'

Loki chuckled, 'Healing crystals, it was really simple.'

'Still though, soul forges, and to train under Eir. One could dream.' You reached for the table and began smoothing the salve into the burned skin, preparing to cut into it. The salve would numb the area and you would be able to work. As you worked, you talked.

'So Thor did this?'

Loki sighed, wincing and jolting here and there as you found a still sensitive spot. You knew, given the nature of Asgardian metabolism this would be excruciating, but their pain tolerance hopefully balanced it out. 'He had to find a way to detain me somehow.'

'Couldn't sit on you or something? Punch you unconscious?'

'I think the part that hurts most, more than,' Loki hissed as the scalpel dug particularly deep, 'that, is the look he gave me, the fact that he laughed as he talked about it. I writhed in agony for ages, Completely helpless for anyone to find me, it could've been the Grandmaster for all Thor knew, and he would've been fine with that, probably felt I deserved it. He tortured me with nary a thought, and because he thought I might betray him.' Loki sighed, 'Thor spends all this time talking about how he's the hero, do you know the number of Jotuns he slaughtered because they called him a princess? Yet when I... humans...' Loki muttered some unintelligible words into his arms.

For some reason, you found yourself stroking the hairs that had fallen into his eyes away from his face, leaning down towards him, 'Humans aren't all they're made out to be. Everyone gets in such a tizzy when humans are involved.'

'He stayed on Midgard for three days, after a lifetime of me telling him he needed to rethink his ways and suddenly a long weekend he realizes maybe he was a bit thickheaded.'

You watched the needle threading the skin back together, the stitches coming in and out, in and out, making a neat line as the skin was reconnected once more.

'I just didn't think he was ready to be king yet, and now I think he's grown into it. I support him completely, but...' Loki sighed.

'He doesn't realize what you've lost and that you had to accept in order to be back by his side?'

'I'm back to where I was. When I was Odin, for a time before that, I finally broke free, I felt like I was me, I didn't have to be Thor's brother, I could be my own person, I mean I was still not really me, I was living a lie as Odin, but I wasn't just Thor's brother, I was someone else. But now... I have to go back to this...'

'He's put you back in his neat little box, that you have to be there by his side and accepting his rules, following along and accepting that he calls the shots or you get another obedience disk?' You asked.

'Is that really what I'm destined for? If I dare act out he tortures me, I spent so long in my childhood trying to break free of being second rate to golden Thor, or a time it seemed like I might stand a chance, it did come at the cost of many lives, horrific chaotic horrible costs...' Loki slowly sat up as he looked at you, resting his head in his hand.

You sat down next to him.

'I tried to destroy Jotunheim, just to prove I was different from Thor, that I could be as good as him, to maybe be better than him, if not be him. And it wasn't enough, it still wasn't a damn good enough for that wretched bastard. And you know what he has the nerve to say to me before dying, “I love you, my sons”, my sons. He calls me his sons, when he sentences me to life in prison after saying my birthright is to die, he dares to suddenly claim I am his son, a sudden change of heart. A lifetime of never showing it and he suddenly is able to claim the higher ground by dying and acting as though he cared, because he's dead.' Hot tears were falling down Loki's cheeks as he talked, you don't know if it's the alcohol, the medicine, the surgery or the fact that someone was finally listening, but you sit there silently next to him. Carefully, you rested your hand on his knee, and just sat there. You can't tell what emotions he's feeling but you know better than to interrupt him.

'He wasn't ready... That's all I ever wanted to say. He wasn't ready, but no one listened.' The words came tumbling from Loki's mouth. 'I told them over and over. Night after night, I begged and pleaded, desperately, so many times. I screamed with father til I was blue in the face.' Loki laughs mirthlessly. 'That probably scared him more. Little did I know. But he never listened, he never swayed, he always assumed it was jealousy, why he never saw it my way. And then he did. But then father banished him. But of course the guards, always the guards.' Loki groaned tugging on his hair.

You reached up and gripped his hands, pulling them from his face to avoid him hurting himself. Loki allowed you to.

Still he continued on his tirade.

'The commoners liked me well enough, the nobility hated me, and the palace guard didn't take me seriously, they didn't understand witchcraft, my tricks as they called it. Served them right always mocking my magic so I turned it on them, they didn't respect me so I turned my magic on them. And then they didn't follow my orders. I am a prince, they didn't respect me, and it nearly got us killed. So many times, how many times? Countless times! I imagine even the floggings I ordered for the lax behavior went unaccounted for because it was Loki, it's just Loki who cares if it's Loki, the lesser prince? And now Thor is king and he's as arrogant as ever and... and I'm back... back to where I was.' Loki's shoulders slumped. Despite the fresh stitches, and the gristle you had just removed, the pain he had just been through looked nothing to the horror and pain of that dawning realization.

'No.'

Loki glanced up at you.

'You realize it this time. And you are older. You have no reason to stay here. The truth is, a home is not always just a home. Not always just the people in it. Sometimes the people inside a home are lousy and terrible, sometimes the people you've called your family for years are horrible and you have to find new family. Sometimes you have to embark on your own and find a new family and explore a new world and forge a new path for yourself. And it'll be cold and scary at first and you'll be alone for a bit and it hurts, but when you find the right people, that's when it's worth it. Anyone who would hurt you as terribly as you've been hurt, no, you don't deserve that. You need to make something new, something you deserve.'

Loki blinked.

You leaned towards him, cupping his cheeks and wiping away his tears, smoothing them away with your thumbs. Standing up, you walked over and picked up his shirts, moving back over with the fresh bandages to wrap over the stitches and to help him redress. 'A home is what you make of it, not what someone else tells you has to be your home.'

'You really think so?'

'Your mother was always the one who tied you to Asgard, you loved Thor dearly, but when you told him you loved him, how did he respond?'

'Thank you.' Loki whispered.

'He should have responded in kind. Someone who loves you always makes it clear that they love you back, in action and in word, there should never be any doubt. They must make as much an effort to be in your life as you do to be in their life. You have given so much, it is time to take.'

Slowly Loki smiled, allowing you to finish the bandaging, 'Come with me.'

'What?'

'I'll teach you what I know of Asgardian healing magic.'

'I'd like that very much.'

[nayutai]

Time to Play

Word Count: 2,448

Warnings: bondage, blindfolding, orgasm denial, pain, vibrator, oral (m receiving), dom/sub themes, unprotected sex

A/N: This was pretty much an excuse to write sub Namjoon and whew chile I need to go lay down.

Joonie: Hey babe call me on your lunch break

I flipped my phone over on my desk as if I hadn’t even seen the message. Call him on my lunch break. I think not. Normally, I’d take any chance I could to talk to my boyfriend Namjoon because he’s always so busy but after the argument we’d had two days ago, thinking about listening to him speak makes me want to riot.

A rumor had come out that he’s dating some female idol that I knew he’d been doing some production work for and I’d asked him about it just to ease my own mind. Dating rumors come out all the time in the idol world but hardly ever about Joon and his bandmates because they usually keep to themselves. Seeing as how no one outside of the company even knows we’re dating, I felt threatened. Admittedly, I probably could have picked a better time to bring it all up considering that he’s been stressing about finishing the upcoming album, but that’s not the point. The point is that he’d thrown my insecurities about going public in my face as if I was to blame. He even went so far as to suggest that we “take a break”. I nearly slapped his pretty face for that one but I took the high road and left instead. If he wants to talk then he’s going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness first. A devious smile makes its way onto at my face at the mental image of his large frame knelt before me in submission.

When I return to my desk after taking my lunch break, I pull my phone out of the drawer I’d left it in while I was gone. I have several less than happy text messages from Namjoon and even a couple missed calls. My phone is returned to its hiding place after opening the text messages so he knows that I’ve seen them and purposely ignored them. The tone of his messages is much too combative and antagonizing for me to bless him with a response.

                                                             ~

It’s not surprising to me that Namjoon’s car is in my driveway when I get home. I make sure to take my sweet time grabbing my bag out of the back seat and making my way into the house.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Namjoon asks from his spot on the couch as I shut and lock my front door.

“Why are you here?” I ask as I step out of my heels and hang my sweater up on the coat rack next to his denim jacket.

When I turn to face him again, he’s standing right behind me. I curse myself internally at the fact that I jump at his sudden closeness. He smirks at my alarm and it only grows when I glare at him. I shoulder pass him aggressively as I head towards the stairs.

“Why didn’t you call me like I asked you to?” He questions with a sly poke to my ass as we climb the stairs.

“Because you didn’t deserve my obedience. Next question.” I shimmy out of my pencil skirt now that we’ve reached my bedroom before getting to work on the buttons of my silk blouse while Namjoon makes himself comfortable on my bed.

“Maybe I need to remind you who’s in charge here…” He lets his words trail off as I pull one of his t-shirts over my head.

I simply scoff at him before moving to leave my bedroom. If I have to deal with his shenanigans, then a glass of wine is most definitely in order.

I take a seat on a stool at my kitchen island and let the taste of my favorite white wine sets my taste buds alight as I sip from my glass. Namjoon takes this opportunity to cage me in with his hands coming to rest on the counter top on either side of me.

“You’re testing my patience, baby girl.” He whispered against the skin of my neck, his words separated by less than gentle nips at my skin.

I almost give in to his advances but the feeling of one of his hands coming up to tweak one of my nipples through my shirt snaps me out of my lust-induced haze. I quickly finish the rest of my wine before pushing off of the stool and forcing my way out of his embrace, putting some distance between us.

“You want me to play nice? Get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness first.” I fix him with my best glare as we have a stare down in the middle of my kitchen. “Beg or leave. Those are your only options” Hopefully the authoritative tone in my voice lets him know that I mean business.

A pleased smile graces my features as Namjoon reluctantly drops to his knees before me. He’s glaring at me but that only makes this so much better. I slowly walk closer to him until he’s forced to look up to still look me in the eye.

“You really hurt me with what you said, sweetie. What do you think your punishment should be?” I ask sweetly as I cup his face in my hands before dragging a single finger across his plush bottom lip.

I let the tip of my finger breach his lips, taking great pleasure in the way they look wrapped around it when he starts to suck. I’ve trained him well. My free hand comes up to swat at his face when it seems that he’s forgotten my question.

“Answer me, baby boy.”

“Do as you wish, my lady. I’m all yours.” He gives me a small smile when I lovingly run my fingers through his dark brown locks in response but it quickly becomes a grimace when I yank his head back by his hair.

“Let’s play.” I lean down to whisper into his ear. He shudders when I gently pull on the small hoop in his ear lobe with my teeth.

                                                              ~

The sight of my boyfriend bound, blindfolded, and nearly naked in my bed that he’s almost too big for sends a thrill of excitement through me. It’s very rare that he lets me take control like this but he knows how badly he fucked up so it’s not surprising that today is one of those times. The buzz of the wine is settled over my skin like a live wire and it only serves to heighten my arousal. I can feel just how wet my panties are against me but I can’t think about that right now.

I pull his t-shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. Namjoon’s breathing speeds up in anticipation of my next move when he feels me climb on the and settle myself on his midsection. He whines when I drag my nails down his broad chest, leaving red marks in his skin. My mark on my man. I lean down to kiss each one before letting my lips move lower. My hands reach up to twist and pull at his nipples as I brush my nose along his erection over his boxers. I let my tongue slip out lick at the head when I reach it. The grunt of pleasure followed by a seeking thrust of his hips has me pulling back with a giggle.

“Stay still, baby.” He huffs but nods his understanding. “Good boy.”

I return my attention to the tent in his boxers. He feels so hot and hard against the palm of my hand. I pull on his waistband so it’s just low enough for his leaking head to be exposed. It’s shiny from the sheer amount of precum flowing out of it. I revel in the strangled moans coming from his pretty lips when I suck the head into my mouth. His hips lift from the mattress once more when the tip of my tongue teases the opening in his cock.

“What did I say about moving, Namjoon?” I ask gruffly. He mumbles something under his breath which is just unacceptable. I grip his balls through the fabric of his boxer with less than pleasurable pressure until he yelps in pain.

“I’m sorry!” He whimpers. I soothe him with a kiss to his lips before going back to what I was doing. This time I pull his boxer down till they’re sitting at mid thigh.

His erection rests against his lower stomach and it takes everything in me not to end this now and ride him into oblivion. I tell myself that he doesn’t deserve it yet. That he hasn’t earned the privilege to feel my slick walls wrapped around him. The words he’d said before float around my mind, becoming fuel for me to ignore my own urges and keep going.

I flatten my tongue against him and lick a slow strip up his pulsating length. He tosses his head back in pleasure but surprisingly his hips don’t move. We’ll see how long that lasts. My hand replaces my tongue on his stuff cock as I turn my attention to his balls. I watch him keenly for signs of movement as I suck one of them into my mouth. The muscles in his thighs twitch sporadically as I release it with a pop but he remains still. My hand slowly strokes, twisting around the head on each upward pass as I continue to show his testicles some attention. When my tongue reaches around to get to that sensitive patch right behind them I get the reaction I was looking for. His back arches as he tries to move his hips away from the sudden pleasure. He realizes his mistake too late as apologies flood the air around us. Now the real fun can begin.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” I completely remove myself from the bed. I lightly drag a single finger up his torso as I decide where I want to start. “I told you not to move, Joonie and yet you chose to disobey me. And to think I was actually going to let you cum.” I let the meaning behind my words hang in the air as he continues to whine.

He stops when he hears me rustling in the drawer of my nightstand. His brow furrows in confusion when he hears the sound of my vibrator coming to life. Namjoon has expressed his interest in using toys together in the past but today is the first time I’ve actually taken him up on the offer. I start by running the tip of the vibrator up his weeping length, lingering on the sensitive head. I guess he figured there’s no longer any point in staying still now that he’s being punished so his hips are moving wildly as he tries to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum fuck” His head is tossed back in pleasure as he groans through his clenched teeth. I drop the vibrator on the bed and grip his erection tightly in my fist. “Fuck!” His hands beat repeatedly against the headboard as he begs for me to release him but I don’t do so until I’m sure any traces of his orgasm are gone.

As a peace offering, I swallow his cock down my throat. Namjoon hisses above me as he tries to handle the feeling of being engulfed by my mouth and the vibrations against his anus courtesy of the vibrator that’s now pressed to his puckered hole. It’s not long before his moans rise in pitch and frequency and I know he’s close to coming once more. Just like before, I squeeze him like a stress ball until he backs away from the edge of the abyss.

“Y/N please!” he begs.

“Apologize.” I demand as I slowly release him.

“I’m sorry fuck I didn’t mean it.” He blubbers. “I love you so much. I was just so stressed-” I cut him off by lining him up with my entrance and sinking down on him.

Namjoon’s spine arches at an ungodly angle as he tries not to blow his load now that he’s finally inside of me. My muscles are contracting around him involuntarily like always as I adjust to his size but this time I’m wary that it might actually push him over the edge. I reach forward to pull the blindfold from his eyes while my other hand wraps around his throat, applying a little pressure.

“You better not cum before I do.” I smile deviously at the terrified look on his face as I rock my hips against him. His panic only seems to grow as I increase my pace. A loud smacking sound echoing around the room every time I drop my ass in his lap.

“Fuck.” Namjoon bares his throat as he releases the expletive in a long drawn out moan. The sight is too tantalizing to resist as I lean down to mouth at the skin there.

When I sit back up and look in his eyes, his hardened gaze is trained on my face. He braces his feet flat on the bed, shifting me forward in the process, before he rockets his hips upwards into me. The movement seems to force the air out of my lungs as my mouth drops open. I lift my hips up to keep going and on the way back down he thrusts up again. His lips are drawn into his mouth in concentration as he fucks up into me. The knot that’s quickly tightening in my nether regions says that his efforts are paying off and I’m only slightly miffed about that. It’s hard to be truly angle when his thick length is hitting spots inside me that has me seeing stars.

“Fucking cum already!” Namjoon shouts and my traitorous body gives into his demands, releasing around him with a strangled shout. He follows right after with a pained grown. For a second, I feel as if his cock is going to spurt inside of me forever as I lay on his chest trying to catch my breath but his orgasm eventually comes to an end.

I blindly reach up to undo the scarves I’d used to tie him down, sighing when I feel him wrap his arms around me. He peppers kisses on my forehead as we wait for our heartbeats to level out.

“I really am sorry you know. I should’ve never said all of that shit to you.” Namjoon whispers into my hair as he runs a hand up and down my back.

“Apology accepted.” I respond with a kiss to his chest before drifting off to sleep.

[edxwin-elric]

Screwdriver

Edwin Smut Week: Day 2

Theme: Toys

Rating: MA/nsfw (smut)

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 3022

Description: Edwin One Shot

Ed interrupts Winry while she’s working for some adult time.

A/N: For the purposes of this fic, suspend your disbelief a little and ignore how unsanitary this whole thing is, okay? Just enjoy the smut.

my esw18 tag || ffn || ao3

day 1: hot & steamy || day 3: naptime naughtiness

Winry

I let out a low growl followed by a slow breath. I’m so close to finishing this elbow. If I could just get this one piece to—

“You know, you could sit down.”

I sigh and shake my head, not even bothering to look over my shoulder at where Ed is definitely standing in the doorway watching me.

“I was losing feeling in my butt,” I mutter, trying to maintain focus. I have to get this stupid automail done.

I’m standing at my workbench, bent at the waist rather than sitting on my stool, as I struggle to make this damn piece work. I can’t sit still for too long because I get restless. Or, like I said, parts of my body start to go numb.

“This butt?”

His hand lands on my left cheek through the material of my coveralls, which are tied around my waist.

“Edward!” I snap at him, whipping my head around. “Don’t–”

“What are you working on?” he cuts me off, leaning over me to look at my project.

“Um, it’s an arm for a military vet,” I answer, thrown off balance by his sudden subject change.

“Hmm…” He rests a hand on the table and leans into it, examining my workspace.

“I’m actually almost finished—eek!” I squeal as the fingers of his other hand trail down my spine and into the cloth at my hips.

“You should take a break,” he murmurs, not removing his hand in the slightest.

“Ed, I really–” I choke when he goes further into the band of my underwear, the rough pads of his fingertips lightly stroking the tops of my butt cheeks.

I start to pull away, but he leans in more, his lips going to my neck.

“Come on, Winry. Just for a little bit.”

“Ed,” I gasp. “I… I have to finish the…order.”

“Okay. Just let me finish you first.”

I start to say no, but his hand slides even deeper into my panties until he’s cupping me over my ass, his calloused fingers brushing between my lips.

“I’ll be fast,” he promises, tonguing my neck.

His thumbnail grazes against me, and I moan.

“Okay, fine,” I choke. “But hurry.”

Before I even finish my sentence, his hand is out of my pants, shoving my coveralls the rest of the way off, and then suddenly, I’m sitting with my ass on the edge of the spare workbench I keep for overflow as he hovers over me, forcing me to lean back on my hands.

“Ed…”

“You’ve got a deadline, don’t you?” he interrupts, his voice thick with promised orgasms. “I’ve got to make this fast.”

“Wait–”

He yanks my bandeau down over my head, freeing my breasts. Instantly, my nipples tighten in the cool air.

“I love these,” he whispers, his hand gently fondling my heavy mounds. “So soft.” He squeezes them lightly, and I whimper. “Except for this part.”

My hand clenches into a fist as he expertly rolls my hardened bud between two of his fingers.

“I—I don’t have a deadline,” I squeak as he switches to tugging at me, sending bolts of electricity from my sensitive tip into my panties.

“What?” His head pops up, his eyes meeting mine.

“I mean, I do.” I lick my lips. “But not for a week. I…I have some time.”

He makes a low sound in his throat and gives me a devilish look before his mouth drops to my chest and sucks the peak of my other boob inside. My head drops back, and I bring my knees up, opening my legs wider.

He moves closer and reaches down to stroke me over my underwear.

“Ed!”

He pushes in, forcing the fabric up between my lips. I drop back onto my elbows, my breathing getting shallow. Suddenly, he yanks the sides down, stripping me bare. I watch as he holds them to his nose, making my face flush. He gives me a smug look before tucking them into his pants pocket. His hands move to his belt, and I lick my lips in anticipation.

“Actually…” He pauses and looks over his shoulder at my work bench.

“What?” I whisper, trying to ignore the strange and titillating sensation of air flowing across my exposed pussy.

“Since I don’t have to hurry…”

He turns and takes a step away from me, going to my toolbox. I watch as he sifts through various bolts and wrenches and other random things, caught between telling him to get his hands out of my stuff and trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing.

“Aha.”

He turns around holding one of my screwdrivers, and I blink. Why does he need that? I thought we were having sex.

“Ed?” I start to lean forward, but he crosses back to me, still holding up the tool.

“Are you up for trying something different?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

“Um…what do you have in mind?”

He turns the screwdriver over so that he’s holding it by the thin metal shaft and waggles his eyebrows at me.

“Edward, I don’t—oh!”

I jerk as the rough, rubber end of the screwdriver brushes along the outside of my slit.

“Do you get it now?” Ed looks up at me, and I swallow, my eyes going from him to the large, textured end of my tool.

“I…I don’t know if…”

“If you decide you don’t like it, we can always stop,” he coaxes gently. “But if you’re sure you don’t want to try it at all, we don’t have to.”

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, trying to think. Finally, I reach out and grab his wrist, gently tugging it down between my legs. I tense when the rounded end touches me but continue to carefully guide his hand up and down.

“We can try it,” I whisper as, looking up at him.

“You’re sure?” His hand stills, and I instantly miss the rhythm.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Go ahead.”

He begins moving again, and I lay back on the table, widening my legs. I reach down to grab the edge with one hand as he uses his fingers to spread open my pussy, allowing the tip of the screwdriver to stroke deeper.

“Oh God,” I choke, my grip on the table tightening. “Ed!”

“Fuck,” he says softly, dragging the rubber between my folds. “Your pussy is weeping everywhere.”

“Edward, stop teasing me,” I whine, lifting my head to look at him.

“Teasing you, am I?” He catches my eye, and my breath stalls at the devious glint in his. “Then what do you call this?”

His gentle strokes suddenly pick up speed, causing my head to go back, digging into the table. At the same time, his head lowers to my chest, pulling one of my nipples into his mouth.

I let out a pitiful whine as he sucks on my aching peak. I thrust my chest out, forcing more of it into his mouth. His tongue flicks over my nipple again and again, causing it to tighten into a stiff point.

I move restlessly beneath him as the screwdriver creates intense friction between my legs. I reach out with one hand and grab his shoulder to steady myself. The end of the tool rolls against my clit, and I cry out, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Jesus, Win,” he grunts against my breast.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “I didn’t mean to–”

“I’m not complaining.” He grins, his teeth catching around my erect little bud, and I moan.

He releases it only to switch to my other boob, starting the whole process over again. My hand on his shoulder moves lower, and my other one releases the edge of the work bench to slide around his hip, dipping into the waistband of his pants. He jerks against me and looks up.

“You seem agitated,” he comments, resting his chin between my now-red breasts.

“Of course, I’m agitated,” I gasp, my pussy squeezing tight as he traces the edges of my lips with my tool. “Just put it in me already!”

He looks surprised for a second before he presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Edward Elric, I swear to God, if you hold out on me for one more second, I–”

My words die suddenly as his fingers spread my lips wide, the rough pads scraping my sensitive skin.

“I’ve never done anything like this,” he reminds me softly, his eyes locked intently on the throbbing place between my legs. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

I nod, my teeth buried in my lower lip.

He lines up the end of the makeshift toy and begins to push it inside me. I whimper, my hands grabbing at his shoulders as the tip goes in.

“I’m gonna keep going,” he says softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Go on.”

He grabs one of my thighs, holding it open, as he continues filling me with the wide end of my screwdriver. I have to force myself to breathe as the rubber, slick with my juices, sinks into me. My walls tighten around it as it forces its way deeper into my channel. Finally, it’s all the way in, and Ed stops pushing, only to run a fingertip around where my lips are hugging the foreign object inside me.

Oh my God. It’s so tight. I didn’t realize the handle was this thick.

“How do you feel?” Ed asks softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the metal rod sticking out of my pussy.

“Full,” I choke. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

“Does it hurt?” Concern floods his tone. “We can stop if you want.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I…It’s turning me on.”

Even as I say it, I feel wet leaking out around the screwdriver.

“You want me to keep going then?”

“Yeah,” I answer breathlessly, dropping onto my back. “Please.”

“Please?” he echoes, and I hear his eyebrows rising.

“Fuck me with my screwdriver, Ed.”

“Whatever you say,” he replies roughly. “You’re the mechanic.”

Gripping the metal end, he slowly pulls the handle out, making me shiver. He quickly drives it back in, and I let out a sob, my back arching off the table.

“More,” I gasp. “Faster!”

Instantly, he climbs up over me, his knees balancing on the edge of the table, one of his hands dropping on the wood next to my shoulder. His other hand remains between my legs as he begins retracting and thrusting the tool rhythmically.

“You close yet?” he grunts, and I turn my head to look at him, my eyes catching on the bulge in his pants.

“I think so,” I whimper. “It feels—oh God—so good, Ed.”

“Probably the texture of the rubber,” he comments, leaning down to my ear. “I bet it’s dragging against all that hot, silkiness inside of you, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” I moan.

“It’ll probably rust from all the juice you’re leaking. I can feel it dripping on my fingers.”

“Ed!” I hiss, “Don’t–”

He cuts off the rest of my protest with an incredibly powerful thrust, and suddenly I’m coming. My jaw locks, my mouth releasing a shrill scream, and I dig my fingernails into his bicep as it crashes into me. My pussy spasms wildly, and I feel heat spreading down my thighs. It rolls over me in hard pulses before I feel it peaking and then slowly ebbing away. I’m panting when Edward takes hold of my wrist and removes it from his arm.

I watch him climb down again before he turns to me.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod.

I mean, I think so.

Oh God. I just came from my screwdriver!

Before I can even process the thought, the large rubber handle disappears.

I gasp and struggle to sit up on my shaky elbows.

“Ed, wha–”

“I’m jealous of a damn screwdriver,” he mumbles to himself. “Unbelievable.”

I blink in confusion. “What?” I murmur.

“Forget it,” he says dismissively. “How…uh, how was that? Good?”

“I, um…” I swallow, and struggle get my bearings.

“I mean, I know you came…a lot,” he adds, a smug smile spreading across his face. “But did you like it?”

I feel my cheeks burn with a blush, and I look away. “Yeah,” I whisper.

“Okay, good, because now it’s my turn.”

Tossing the tool behind him, he steps forward and grabs my knees, wrenching them apart. I yelp as one of his hands slides down my thigh, the other hastily working the zipper on his pants. His fingers brush against the sensitive skin of my slit, and I gasp.

And then, suddenly, I’m staring at him—all of him. His cock is standing angry and red, bobbing at me from between his toned thighs, the vein on the underside clearly throbbing from the increased blood flow. I let my eyes travel over it, taking in the swollen head that I already know feels smooth and hot to the touch. I glance up at his face and bite my lip.

He lets out a low growl and closes the distance, bending over the table, forcing me onto my back. I whimper when I feel it brush me, the tip lining up with my entrance, already slick with precum.

“Ed,” I moan.

“Jesus, Winry,” he swears brusquely, his face twisting into a grimace. “I’m about to come just from this.”

“Then hurry,” I plead, reaching down between us, desperate to have him inside me.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He tilts his head back, his fingers spreading my lips apart, and roars as he drives in. My hands immediately come up to his shoulders, bracing myself as I adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Like burying my dick in tight, pink silk.”

My pussy spasms at his words, and I see a muscle twitch in his jaw.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask softly, locking my legs around his waist.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he confesses, sounding pained. “I’m not sure I can hold back. Not after seeing you come so hard from your screwdriver.”

“Then don’t,” I command, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his ear down to my lips. “Fuck me, Ed.”

He leans back and blinks at me before I see his eyes flash. And then his hands are on my hips, pulling me to the very edge of the table, where he begins thrusting. He’s gentle for about the first three, and then he begins hammering into me with abandon.

I cry out each time he slams into me, his pulsating cock hitting the back of my channel again and again. I love the way it feels. The roughness, the desperation. Even though I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, I want him to take me like this.

His mouth drops to my chest again as he continues to pound into me. I twist my neck to the side and whimper as he repeats the earlier sucking and nipping at my sensitive swells, licking my nipples, catching them between his teeth. My hand in his hair clenches tight, and suddenly he moves, his hands grabbing my legs and pulling them away from his hips.

I lose my grip on his head and open my eyes, staring as he forces my legs out and then up toward my shoulders. In the new position, he seems to go even deeper, and my pussy feels stretched impossibly wide. I moan loudly as he powers into me, my legs held up in the air.

It happens all at once—the friction, the repetitive motion, the pleasant ache he’s creating. There’s not time for it to build gradually, instead I come suddenly, without warning.

My hands slam down, grabbing onto the edge of the table so hard my knuckles go white. I feel my body lock up, and I forget how to breathe. The heat spreads quickly, burning through every cell in my body. I feel like I’m coming apart.

I flinch when Ed grunts roughly and drives in one final time as he comes, his hands releasing my arms to slam into the table by my shoulders. I feel him jerking inside of me as I feel his panting breaths tickle my hypersensitive skin. I slowly let go of the table and bring my trembling hands up, sliding them into his hair.

His forehead drops to my collarbone, and his arms give out as he collapses on top of me. I cradle his hips with my knees, his semi-hard shaft still buried inside of me, finally spent.

“Are you okay?” he asks gruffly, his hands moving to caress my ribs.

“I’m great,” I murmur weakly. “That was great.”

“Amazing,” he amends, his thumbs making little circles below my breasts. “And it was all you.”

“Hardly,” I counter. “You did all the work.”

“I was primed,” he returns, lifting his head. “Your face when you came from the screwdriver… I’ve never been so turned on. At least not so immediately.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“Are you tired?” he asks gently.

“Yeah,” I yawn. “You wore me out.”

He stands slowly, and helps me down off the table.

“Can you walk to our room?”

“I should shower,” I whisper, looking down at myself.

I feel sweaty and sticky all over.

“Go rinse off,” he mutters, kissing my temple. “I’ll bring you some underwear and a nightshirt, and you can meet me in bed.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Thanks.”

He leads us out into the hall, and I head for the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to call back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for interrupting me. I needed this.”

“Trust me, Winry. The pleasure was mine.”

I shake my head and turn away from him, going to the shower.

He can say that all he wants to, but the pleasant tenderness between my legs doesn’t lie. Besides, I came twice. That said, I know it makes Ed happy to make me happy, and he definitely made me happy tonight.

So, I’ll just have to return the favor when I get the chance.

[kpopidol-rp]

Explosion: JiKook One-Shot

Pairing: Jimin x Jungkook

Rating: M for mention of suicide and suicidal tendencies

Viewer discretion is advised.

Red.

It's a beautiful color that can have endless meanings. Many psychologists agree that the color itself can have meanings from both sides of the spectrum- both positive and negative. To some, the color can represent passionate love, while to others it can mean terrorizing war.

But to me, as the color dripped along my side, it represented so much more than pain. It represented my story; what I had gone through, who I had lost and where I had been. It meant the end of one day, and the beginning of another.

It represented that I was alive.

The thick substance continued to roll down my side in a long trickle of a stream, the pain I expected from the cut soon subsided and overwhelmed me with a wave of calm. I leaned my head back in ecstacy, closing my eyes as I enjoyed my seconds of bliss. As the seconds ticked by, the stinging sensation once again came to claim its territory, giving me the sign that it was ready to be dabbed clean. I did as usual and what was left, was a thin cut- one amongst the many along my stomach and side.

These were my trophies.

I caressed the fresh wound and smiled sadly to myself, my voice coming out hoarsely, "We've made it another day."

"Jimin?" I barely budged my head at the mention of my name, but the person persisted, not understanding my silence, "There's a project in Cultural Art Studies, I was wondering if you'd be my partner?" I didn't so much as glance at the person beside me to recognize the mouse-like girl who would often confuse herself as my friend, shrugging nonchalantly,

"Not really interested, Minah." She sighed, her shoulders slumping at my response,

"Then who will be your partner?" I raised a brow at her silly question.

"I'm not interested in any partners. If anything, I'll just make do with doing it myself as usual. Professor usually leaves me alone." I brushed past the girl to aimlessly wander to a field that surrounded the outskirts of campus.

I just wanted to be alone.

Why didn't anyone understand that I put these walls up on purpose? All I do is wreck things, it's for the best- for me and them.

"Jimin." I groaned to myself as I heard my name once again, turning slightly from my current position in the grass, only to see a taller man approach me. I raised a brow at the unfamiliar figure, glancing him over to determine if he were a friend or foe- more often than not, people like him were foes.

‘Like him’ meaning the attractive type.

He exhaled, appearing to be catching his breath after running, before flashing me a toothy grin, making me even more uncomfortable than I already was considering I didn't even know the man,

"You walk fast. I'm Jungkook, I'm a year behind you in the music program." I continued to look at the person quietly; still unsure of his business with me. My brows slightly raised as a que for him to continue, "I'm new, I transferred here after a fall out with my previous school, this place has a much better music program. Anyways, I heard that you'd be the person to see about art classes?"

I sighed once again before turning back around, murmuring in response to his questions, "I'm not exactly the one 'to see about art classes.' That is an administrative problem you have there, not one to be between peers."

"Oh, it's nothing about that, I needed some help with an art project. My professor pointed out that you're a top student in the art program and that you needed a partner for this particular project to get credit. Well, I suppose I was just hoping you'd consider taking me in as your partner?"

As he explained the situation in more detail, I could feel my annoyance being pushed even further than it already was,

"No."

"No?"

I glanced at him and nodded, "No. I'm not interested in taking you in as my partner. Like I've told Minah- I'll pull through on my own. Why I'd have to lean on another artist for ‘assistance,’ “ I threw up air quotes for emphasis on my annoyance, “Would be un-existent. I don't need a partner, none the less for a mere art project."

A few moments passed in silence, making me assume Jungkook had taken the hint, but I was oddly surprised when I turned around to find the taller male kneeling before me on his knees, his eyes showing a plea of desperation, "Please, Jimin-ssi, I need to pass this class to continue on with my music major." I raised a brow once again as he rested his hands on the grass in front of him and bowed to me, "Please."

Idiot.

How could I have possibly agreed to this? He couldn't even mix the basic colors to make others, nonetheless sketch. I rested two fingers to the bridge of my nose, shaking my head for the hundredth time as Jungkook- once again- made an irreversible mistake, "No, no, no. I already told you that in the project, there's to be no shading. All color and abstract. Many students in our class are concerned with mastering concrete art, but they don't understand the importance of color."

Jungkook glanced at me, a streak of red and blue paint dried along one of his cheek bones, an embarrassed smile on his face, "I'm sorry, Jimin-ssi, I just don't get art. I've never been into it."

I raised a brow.

" ‘Never been into it?’ " I scoffed after mocking his tone, "What do you call music if not ‘art’ ?"

Jimin hummed in thought as he straightened his stance from the canvas, his brush dangling between his fingers, tapping his chin ever so gently, "It's... passion."

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, how about this: paint the way producing makes you feel."

His eyes turned to me in confusion,

"How can I paint that when a feeling cannot be seen?"

"That's the beauty of abstract art."

Jungkook sighed, breathing in deeply before once again attempting a single stroke to the new canvas in front of him, his concentration making his eyebrows knit together, making him appear the most serious he had been the entire night.

As the silence continued to stretch, his concentration deepened. After ten minutes of silence, I finally stepped away, leaving the strange, younger, man to be alone with his canvas- the way everyone was.

Imagine everyone to be the representation of a color; our parents and loved ones the brushes, our life a blank canvas. As we grow, it was plain to see that we can't do it on our own. Life itself was a color that no one knew, it would become the painting that we put together stroke-by-stroke with each brush.

But, unlike most people, I had no brushes. The canvas that was set before me wasn't blank, nor filled. What would have been elegant strokes of a steady hand; were bloodied handprints, sloppy and confused in placement.

Everyone I loved abandoned me- including my own parents. My two older sisters left, too, but attempted to do it without hurting their younger, naive brother. They left together, all at once. Almost like a band aid: fast and quick. But, unlike a band aid's purpose; the wound it covered  never healed- leaving a gash, untreatable.

A scar.

Despite what most people may believe; time never healed that gash.

Time never flew.

It's wings were broken.

I admit, I dwell on the pain that my dysfunctional family had made me endure, but it's what pushed me through each day. Each day, I relied on that very pain to get me through it, through what scholars and average people referred to as “life,” I referred to as “hell.”

What a paradox.

As I grew and made relations, they would leave soon after. Despite what each person would say, I was nothing more than a toy to occupy them until they, too, grew bored. Like my parents. The more backs turned to me, the more I grew to resent everyone around me, and soon enough, that resentment soon claimed myself.

My canvas was a mess of darkness-filled palm prints of my teens, pain-stricken thumb marks from the lack of encouragement in my pre-teens, scared childhood fingerprints, lessening itself to one lone pointer finger print; representing the last person in my life who gave a damn about this bastard of a child.

Until that, too, was gone- leaving half my canvas unfilled.

No colors.

No shades.

No life.

As each person left, as did my brushes.

"Jimin-ssi." I turned my head to Jungkook; having forgotten his presence. A large grin was placed on his face; spots of yellow and orange on his once-white apron made me cringe inside; the colors of happiness.

"I think I've done as you asked." I nodded at him and slid out of my bar stool, striding towards the living room to find a canvas filled with warm and bright colors, mixed in hues of passionate red and orange.

I nodded as I spotted deep blue pools in centers of warmth, raising a brow as I pointed to the few specks, "What do these spots represent for you?"

Jungkook cleared his throat with a cough made up of nervousness, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks, "There are times when I produce and a sadness overfills me." I raised a brow in curiosity at his answer, "I began studying music more in depth when my mother passed. Whenever I pick up a guitar, or play piano, or put together a piece, I just start thinking of her, from time-to-time and I begin to miss her."

I nodded, turning back to the canvas and nodded towards the piece, "You did well."

The same bright smile pulled at his lips at my response, replacing the saddened one that had taken its place, "Really? You think so?" I nodded and turned towards my own set of colors that were pushed aside,

"Now it's my turn."

Jungkook blinked, making me sigh, "The assignment was to paint an abstract piece of two different views of the same object." Realization hit him as I explained, "There's food in the fridge if you're hungry."

I heard a quiet response before hearing the shuffling of feet in the direction of the kitchen, giving me the que to begin my own representation of how I felt towards music. I began; my brush leaving behind strokes of light blue and pink, morphing into yellow and dark blues- I was good at morphing false feelings into my paintings, my talent for manipulation of another's persievment of myself had gone beyond my appearance and into my own works.

Sometimes, it even fooled myself.

"Jimin,"

I turned my head to see a plate with a sandwich neatly made in the center of it. I blinked at the offering and looked towards the younger male, his arm outstretched with the plate, his other hand holding his own sandwich. He raised a brow at my reaction, wiggling the plate impatiently, "Eat."

I nodded slowly at the object and took the plate from him, taking a bite from the first thing anyone had made for me in years.

No one had ever shown consideration for me after junior high, believing that I had become a lost cause, or how I liked to call: a hopeless case of depression.

Girls often tried showing their affection for me, more for my appearance than for my character. I had already thrown their fantasies out the window, not interested in any one of them.

Jungkook was a little different, I admit. He hadn't scurried away when I spoke coldly to him, he didn't avert his eyesight from me when we passed each other on campus.

In all honesty, the exact opposite happened.

Jungkook always went out of his way to greet me with a smile, even if he weren't in the brightest of moods. He would keep me in consideration when we were debating where to do the project. He had people who loved him, I could tell by the way the girls on campus would swoon over him, but it was obvious he wasn't what the girl's wanted.

He was persistent, but that didn't make him any different.

Just stupid.

After eating and finishing my own part of the project, it was already late into the night, pushing 3A.M. Jungkook had fallen asleep, outstretched on my black, leather couch. His arms folded over his eyes to block out the bright, fluorescent, lighting of the room.

I glanced at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath and each exhale he made.

It was true he was an idiot, but I would be lying if I said the man didn't intrigue me.

No one had ever spent the night with me. Especially when I had began living alone, but it wasn't like I was inviting anyone over, either. I shrugged slightly, believing my intrigue had only been struck due to lack of sleep. I brushed past the sleeping man and headed towards the bathroom to begin what had turned into a normality; a ritual that I did each night before sleeping soundly.

I began the shower, taking a last peek to make sure Jungkook was still asleep on the couch and stepped into the shower after stripping out of my clothes. The warm water streamed down my body, steam soon enveloping me, making me breath in the scent that represented the beginning. I grasped my razor and pressed it into my side, right below the one from the night before that had just began to heal.

I pressed down, a soft sigh leaving my lips immediately after the abrupt stroke that took a thin layer of skin with it, the sting making my eyes squeeze shut tightly in reflex from the pain. Moments passed before the sting subsided.

I awaited the bliss patiently.

But it never came.

I frowned.

I looked at the cut and realized it was a bit deeper than usual, sighing as the moments passed, realizing quickly that my euphoria wouldn't come. I bit my lip as the bleeding continued. I pressed my hand to the cut, shaking my head. I attempted to wash the wound with the running shower before turning it off, stepping out, wrapping a towel around my waist, and examining it through the mirror. My damp hair fell into my face, the bangs covering my eyes that began to sting with unwanted tears.

"Jimin-ssi?"

I turned my head to see Jungkook, his dark locks disheveled, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand before he saw the crimson that dripped along my side. I couldn't identify my own reaction as his own eyes grew wide at the sight; stepping to me and reaching for it, but I pulled away,

"Get out of here."  I spoke coldly.

"But Jimin-ssii, what-"

"That's none of your concern."

I traced his eyesight to my trophies, his hand reaching towards it before I jerked away once again, "Jungkook. This has nothing to do with you."

"You've done it more than once. Let me help you."

I glared at him, I knew the tone in his voice- it was one that held charity, one that felt sorry for me, one that didn't understand, one that would never understand,

"No."

"Jimin-ssi-"

"I said 'no.' "

Jungkook shook his head before he roughly grabbed me and pulled me towards him, the sharp tug causing a sting to my wound that made me fall into him.

I blinked as I realized that his arms were around me; the warmth momentarily stalling my reaction, but I soon wiggled in his arms, struggling to get loose, but the more I struggled, the more he tightened his grasp around me, giving me the feeling as if I were surrounded by quicksand or a Chinese finger trap.

I tried as much as I could to push him off of me before I felt him tighten once more around me, making me lose my strength and will to fight him off.

"You're safe."

Safe?

What did he know of safety?

What did he know about me?

Who I was? Where I was from?

Who the hell was he to claim sanctuary on my behalf, when in all reality, I was the farthest away from safety than I had ever been before? He didn't know who or what I was, he didn't know anything.

 He didn't know what it felt like to have no brushes, no colors, no half-filled canvas. 

He knew nothing, he was just an idiot.

A man who was the apple of so many people's eyes while I was only the seed of a microscopic apple buried beneath the sands; forgotten.  One that everyone would yell at to grow, but not nourish.

I was simply a forgotten seed that would never grow to please or nourish others.

"You matter, Jimin-ssi."

I scoffed, 

"What do you know." I shoved him off of me. Visual hurt was evident on his face, making me roll my eyes, "You don't know anything about me." 

Jungkook shook his head,

"I might not be good at art, but I'm good with people; and I can tell you're more than what you see yourself as."

I raised a brow and swatted his hand away as he attempted to aid my cut, "I am nothing, Jungkook. Don't pretend you know anything about me. You don't know my story," I hissed back in response.

"I don't need to know your story, all I have to know is you have a bright future ahead of you."

I laughed obnoxiously, "A bright future? You sound just like everyone else."

"Jimin-ssi, don't compare me to others when you, yourself don't know me." His tone had become low and serious, making me smirk in intrigue at the sudden tone change,

"Oh? Did I strike a chord?"

He gritted his teeth together roughly, "Jimin-ssi, you're not the only one who's had it rough. Everyone goes through tough times, you just have to learn to push past it and deal with it properly."

"Oh? Are you going to be my parent? My counselor? Or, better yet, my psychologist?” I took a breath, “Are you going to pretend to care for me like everyone and eventually leave me behind and act like I'm nothing, too? Are you going to help paint my canvas?" My voice cracked.

He blinked as I suddenly became emotional, tears suddenly stinging the backs of my eyes as he cupped my cheeks, "Jimin-ssi, calm down. I don't understand what you're saying..." He played with my hair gently, petting at my locks to make me involuntarily relax. He hushed me softly, "Whatever it is, we'll work through it, okay?"

I shook my head, “Jungkook, you don't understand."

"I understand that you've been alone for a long time, and that you have lost hope," I glanced at him, falling quiet at his proper observation. He filed his lengthy fingers through my hair, sighing softly, "I recently came out to my father, and he kicked me out of the house. That's how I ended up coming to this university. Before my mother passed away, she knew I was gay, and wanted me to live happily. So I chose to tell my father, but he didn't approve. I moved here to get away from my family. So, I know what it feels like to feel alone and as if no one has your side."

I glanced at him and chewed the inside of my cheek before he continued,

"Honestly, my professor didn't say anything about the project. You striked my interest and I used the project as an excuse to get close to you. Everyone said you were quiet and had always been strange; but they're clueless. You're just as normal as anyone else. People now just don't have the heart to take the time to help paint your canvas and provide the colors you need to fill your life with happiness."

His hand cupped one of my cheeks, tilting my face up to look him in the eyes, confusion present on my features, "I understand, Jimin-ssi, and I want to be one of those colors; one of the brushes to help you make your masterpiece."

For an idiot, he was quite smart.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips after a long silence, and before I knew it, I found myself pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. I pulled away quickly before he could enjoy the extent of it, a trace of a pout left on his lips after I pulled away, "Will you help me with this?"

I revealed the cut to him by removing my hand, revealing the blood staining my palm as well as the drying blood that covered my side in a mess of crimson,

"Of course."

After a few minutes, the cut had been cleaned and wrapped properly, and we were sitting quietly on the couch. The leather glued itself to the back of my thighs due to my still slightly damp legs. Silence settled between us before I found myself in Jungkook’s arms, my head resting in his chest where I felt and heard his first heartbeat against my own.

And, before my eyes,

my first brush appeared after years of absence,

and, all at once,

all the colors in existence exploded to cover my once blank canvas with an array of bright and cool hues of color.

For once, the apple was watered.

Fin.

[mrsbenedictbridgerton]

Don’t Buy Me No Flowers Ch 2

ff.net / ao3

Florist AU

A chance meeting over a crushed bouquet of roses is enough to convince Killian Jones that Emma Swan is the woman for him.

The soft hum of local radio filled the back room of ‘Frozen Blooms’. Being a Wednesday, things were pretty quiet so Killian was taking the time to catch up on the arrangement he was crafting for his final college exams, safe in the knowledge that the bell above the door would alert him to any customers as Elsa took her lunch break. He hummed softly along to the sound of easy listening as he worked, sorting and mixing varieties, searching for that special something that would give them the ‘wow’ factor. Realistically, he had already passed on credits alone. But he had always been the competitive type and he planned to get the highest grade possible. It was in his blood. And he knew he could do it.

Even thinking about that made him grin to himself. He’d been as surprised as anyone when he had discovered an aptitude for floristry. It had only take a few weeks of kicking about in Liam and Elsa’s ramshackle house out by the woods for him to become restless. A vacancy at the florist shop and a teasing comment from Liam that ‘you’d be rubbish at that’ had stoked a fire in him, and before he knew it he was whipping up bouquets like no one's business. And he was actually talented. Good enough to work for a real certification at Storybrooke Community College. Good enough for Elsa even to make hints about him entering something into the town’s Summer Craft Fair in a couple of months. Whatever may come from this newfound skill, he had learned that working with flowers and plants was one of the few things that helped him forget the numbness in his fingers and the lack of flexibility in those digits didn’t seem to impinge at all on his abilities. In fact, floristry seemed to bring upon him an utter sense of calm that he hadn’t felt since he had had to cut his career short.

It was almost one pm, and time for Elsa to return, when the sound of the bell above the door ringing was quickly followed by the clatter of said door being slammed shut. Eyebrow quirked, he quickly wiped his hands on the rag he kept for such things and headed through the curtain into the store.

He was barely past the threshold when he registered just who had slammed the door, his breath catching.

It was… her. Same fiery green eyes and golden hair. Minus the red dress - instead, she was clad in a blood red leather jacket and skin tight dark jeans. An altogether less revealing but somehow even more alluring prospect. Surprised, it took a moment for him to collect himself. And notice the scowl she wore on her lovely features.

“May I help you?” he asked, pulling back his shoulders and arranging his face in the best interpretation of nonchalance he could muster.

Miss Swan- Emma, he remembered- rolled her eyes and a second later an abused bouquet of white roses slammed on the countertop between them. Petals scattered. Her scowl deepened.

Killian cocked his jaw and placed his hands on his hips.

“I said no more flowers,” she replied, with barely suppressed rage seeping from every pore.

His brows pinched together, not quite expecting that as an opening line from the woman who had captured his imagination only a few days earlier.

“Aye, I remember,” he said, uncertain just where she was going to take this fresh tirade.

Haughtily, she folded her arms and gave him an incredulous look. “And?”

Killian let out a soft snort of laughter and shook his head as he examined the unfortunate blooms. “Well, first, if one doesn’t want to receive flowers it’s customary to inform the sender.”

She opened her mouth to reply but he held up a finger to silence her.

“And, in case you are not aware,  I am not the sole employee of Frozen Blooms. My employer must have arranged this yesterday - my day off - therefore I can assume no responsibility for said arrangement.”

She glared at him for a moment and her expression showed a flicker of hesitancy. Finally she shifted, folding her arms and taking a deep breath . “You could have warned your co-workers,” she hissed, though the tone of her voice did not match the uncertain way her lips began to thin.

With a confident smile, Killian lifted up the hatch on the counter that allowed access to where she stood. His hands slid into his pockets - ever conscious of the stiffness of his lame hand and how easily it was often noticed - and he gave her a haughty glance. “Sadly your romantic woes are not on the top of my agenda list.”

She was silent, pursing her lips even further. He’d hit a nerve.

“And if I may presume to give you some advice?”

The blonde watched him, her eyes skittering across his face.

“Your rage seems somewhat misdirected.” His voice softening, he stepped a little closer to she was within touching distance. The strange intimacy of the shadowed shop, empty of all but him and her, made him bold enough to speak his mind. “He’s not worth it.”

There was a pause, enough for a heartbeat.

“And what would you know?”

Indeed, what would Killian Jones know of romantic woes? The man who had shunned all romantic entanglements for so long that women - beyond merely the physical - were seemingly as much a mystery to him as particle physics. But one thing he was aware of was that she deserved better.

“Whatever he did - to make you… hate him so much - he couldn’t have cared for you.” He took a second to gauge her guarded reaction. “More fool him.”

As the two took the measure of each other, to the sound of the ticking clock behind them, the front door opened again, Elsa flauncing in with her arms laden with bags from the town’s best baby boutique.

“Perfect timing,” he smiled, an idea forming. “How about you buy me to a coffee to apologise.”

“For what?”

“For shouting at me. As much as I enjoy being the subject of your misdirected rage.”

For a moment he thought he had pushed too far, that their verbal sparring had not, in fact, been a sign that she was in some way interested in him.

Finally, she sighed. “Well I was about to head to Granny’s-”

“Perfect,” he nodded. “Elsa, I’m just heading out on my break.”

And before either woman could say further on the subject he was pulling off his apron and reaching for his coat.

/

Granny’s was the only place for lunch in town. Which was a good thing as it served the best coffee Killian had ever tasted and had a retro-kitsch interior that just screamed Americana (and he had been reliably informed had not changed in at least a few decades).

They sat at the counter on vinyl topped stools that sagged with age and soundlessly spun, placed their orders with the busy waitress and waited for their coffees and grilled sandwiches to arrive. He’d made sure to sit on her left, his less flexible hand resting on his thigh. With his other hand, Killian toyed with the napkin the waitress had placed before him. “So have you always hated flowers or is this a recent affliction…?”

Emma gave him a sideways glance. “It’s recent.”

Two steaming mugs of coffee were slid in front of them and the pair busied themselves adding creamers and sugars. Surreptitiously, he watched her through his lashes as he stirred. She really was incredibly beautiful, his first impression had been correct. Even an underestimation. Yet there was a tenseness in her expression, a reservation which seemed at odds with the woman who had destroyed not one - but two bouquets of innocent blooms. She seemed almost skittish, guarded, and he wasn’t arrogant enough to take all the credit for that. He decided to try and get her to open up.

“So, the furniture guy. Doesn’t seem your type.”

He expected some rebuke. Perhaps a comment on him overstepping a line. Instead she sipped her coffee and eyed him quietly.

“That was on purpose,” she replied after a few moments. “People have been telling me for years that I have bad taste - that I’ve gone for the wrong type of guy. And I accept that I’ve made some… questionable choices in the past.”

He raised a brow. “I hear you there.”

She digested his comment, running her tongue along her bottom lip in a manner that caught his breath, distracting him until he noticed that their waitress had placed their lunches in front of them.

Emma picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Killian did the same, waiting for her to continue her story.

“So, anyway, when I moved here, I decided to make a new start. Date the kind of man they say is safe. You know, clean cut, has a decent job, holds open the car door for you, that kind of thing.”

Killian began to internally speculate just what kind of men she was previously involved with to have such low expectations. He’d always had a strong sense of honour, even before joining the armed forces. Treating women with the utmost respect and chivalry, no matter how temporary their acquaintance. An idea formed that some of the armour she wore, must indeed at least in part be a consequence of some man. Though he loathed to call the fool (or fools) who had hurt this woman by that term.

“Walsh asked me out when I was picking some furniture for my new place. He seemed to fit that description… Well, turns out while we had decided we were exclusive after a few dates, that wasn’t stopping him sleeping with someone else.���

Killian took in a quick intake of breath. He watched her face for signs of pain, but only saw a deepening frown as she occupied herself with working on her sandwich. It was then that it dawned on him how much she was revealing to a practical stranger. Which then forced more questions… did she have someone? A friend? Family? He had Elsa and Liam; whenever things had gotten difficult for him -especially after his accident - they had been there to shore him up. Without them he wasn’t sure how he would have coped.

In lieu of any smart comment, he replied with a simple. “I’m sorry.”

She raised a hand. “It’s fine. It’s not like I… well, just lets say I’m more angry than anything. At him and myself.”

Her sandwich all but gone, she had wrapped her hands around the mug emblazoned with Granny’s logo and pulled it closer to her. Like she was hiding herself behind that coffee, using it as some kind of shield to conceal just how big an impact the betrayal had had. Not that she thought she had loved him. He couldn’t see a woman like her falling for a man like Walsh. The little contact he had had with the other man had shown him to be a bit of a cold fish. Restrained and calculated.

“Don’t beat yourself up love. It’s not worth it.” With that. He crumpled up his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate. Their efficient waitress was there seconds later clearing away.

“That smacks of personal experience,” she replied, a hint of challenge in her tone and even, perhaps, the barest sign of a smile emerging at the edges of her luscious lips.

Lips that caught his attention once more, bringing him away for a moment, sinking the image into his subconscious, for another time. Finally he composed himself with a sip of coffee, dragging his gaze to her green eyes.

“That would involve actually having a love life of my own.”

“Wait, what. You can’t tell me that you-” she let out a small laugh that was almost magical to his ears, “Come on. Good looking guy like you…”

“You think I’m good looking?”

He grinned. Flirtatious banter her could do. This was familiar territory.

She seemed to feel the shift too, the tension in her face further lifting, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“I’ve been here just shy of a year and romance has not been at the top of my priority list. And before that I was more asea than ashore,” he explained.

“You’re a sailor?”

“Ex her majesty's navy,” he nodded, enjoying the appreciative look she gave him, watching her take him in, almost like she was reassessing him with this new information at hand, her eyes quickly tracking over his form, her head tilting to one side as questions passed over her face.

“An ex-sailor who is now a florist.”

“Indeed,” he nodded, with a smile. “Lieutenant Killian Jones. At your service.”

He held out his hand, more out of habit than anything else. It also occurred to him that is was the first time he had told her his name.

“Lieutenant,” she echoed, taking the hand her offered, grasping it tightly. Her had was warm, smaller than his but not delicate. He felt a strength there within those soft digits. Warm, tingly sparks travelled up his arm from where their skin met in the most innocent of ways. He tried not to show how the simple contact was affecting him. How for a second he was breathless. How his initial interest in her was slowly becoming fascination, tempered by something even basic. An elemental attraction that he wasn’t sure he could understand, but certainly wanted to explore.

Slowly, she slid her palm from his. Her hair slid like a curtain between them as she finished her coffee. He wasn’t able to see if she had been affected by the contact, but then he’d scoffed at that thought. It was just a handshake. Wasn’t it.

“Look, I am actually sorry for shouting at you like that. It’s a bit out of character.”

“Don’t apologise. I like the fiery side of you.” He took a second to drain his coffee cup. Their reasons for being in each other’s company were coming to a close. And then would he see her again? Perhaps not. And that would not do. “Maybe we could… do this again. You look like you could do with a friend.”

She gave him a wry smile as she pulled a few bills from her jeans pocket. “I’m not in the market for a date right now.”

He stood and did the same, leaving a healthy tip for the overworked wait staff. He waited as she straightened her hair over her jacket and then met her eye.

“I didn’t ask you out. Not everyone who is nice is hitting on you.”

And as much as he was attracted to her - he couldn’t deny that - he was speaking the truth. She was an enigma to him, more layers becoming uncovered as he got to see the little of herself she revealed. He wanted to know more. He yearned to learn her secrets and all the things that had formed Emma Swan into the complicated woman before him. He wanted to know her. What happened next, was all up to the hands of fate. He tried to ignore the niggling part of his mind that reminded him that it had been years since any woman had come close to intriguing him in this way. Not since the woman who had almost crushed his heart.

She looked at her watch and then back at him. “I have to be somewhere right now.”

He deflated a little as he expected her to make her excuses and leave, only to see his spirits rise as she took a pen from her jacket pocket and made a few scribbles on her untouched napkin.

Unceremoniously, she handed it to him with a curt nod.

“Thanks for lunch,” he replied, but she was already leaving.

And then he remembered, he’d actually paid for his own damn sandwich.

/

The bus from Storybrooke Elementary was as punctual as ever, stopping at the corner of Fifth and Elm at 2:05 precisely. A gaggle of excited children emerged, ensconced within them a brown haired boy with eyes that reminded her far too much of his father.

Emma pushed away thoughts of him - and all men - as she greeted Henry, pulling her arms around him and revelling in the fact that they had found each other while he was still young enough to let her indulge in such public displays of affection. She held him tight for a moment as he babbled with tales of his day and all little stories of his friends and teachers. When she pulled back she smiled.

“So it was a good day.”

“It was a great day,” he affirmed, taking her hand as they strolled towards the park. This was part of their routine. Wednesdays, she met him after school, took him to the park and then they went back to her apartment for dinner. That, in addition to every other weekend spent together, was the agreement she had came to with his adopted mother after some rather tense negotiations and the intervention of a county court judge who had agreed that such an arrangement was in Henry’s best interests.

“What about you? Catch any bad guys?”

“Not today,” she smiled, amused by his innocent view of her line of work.

“So did you do anything exciting then?” he pressed as they waited at the sidewalk to cross into the park.

Her mind flickered to her impromptu lunch with Killian Jones. The mysterious florist with eyes she could just drown in. On first meeting, she had been too irrate to really appreciate just how handsome he was, but now she was under no illusion. He was dangerously attractive. Just the kind of man she had promised herself to now avoid. And then he’d gone and shown himself to be charming and well, nice- She caught that thought. He was almost a stranger. All she really knew was that he liked Monterey Jack in his grilled cheese and knew how to sail a boat. Or ship. Whatever.

And she’d given him her damn phone number.

She noticed Henry was watching her so fixed him with a bright smile.

“It was a pretty boring day,” she lied. A few paces later they were in sight of the swing set. “Hey kid, how about we see how high we can get you?”

Like that he was racing away, leaving his mother to hide her heated cheeks and leave all thoughts of Killian Jones to another time, more appropriate, time.