#I don’t know I’m only awake enough for one revelation from the gods tonight

[yoonpobs]

back-burner | 04

just for tonight, you'll try to forget

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff

WARNINGS. an intervention, bad decision making and justifications, longing, sibling jealousy, implied smut, public sex-ish?, fwb-situation, introducing hobi!!!, jk trying to be a good friend :(

WORDS. 3.8k

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“You know what I need?”

“What?” Jungkook replies dryly, face sour when you dragged him out of his apartment at seven am in the morning on a weekend.

You were an early riser! And, Jungkook did say that he was your best friend even if that title was heavily self-proclaimed. You were simply making use out of the resources that were bestowed upon you, even if said best friend looks anything but friendly when he glares at you through his puffy eyes.

“An intervention,” you deadpan, leaning forward whilst you slide him a green juice that you ordered on his behalf.

He grimaces when he ogles the glass, glaring at you even harder if that was possible before he slides it back to you.

“Couldn’t this intervention wait till it was a socially acceptable hour?” he mutters under his breath.

“You know for someone who’s meant to be supporting me, you’re being really unsupportive right now,” you blink.

“You know my brain doesn’t operate before 12 PM on weekends so whose fault is that?” he sneers patronisingly, simultaneously releasing a sigh of relief when your food finally arrives.

A familiar face serves you, and you smile when Marco greets you and your companion with his signature grin.

“Nice to see you so early,” he chirps before his head is falling on Jungkook. “Boyfriend?”

Jungkook literally gags. “God, no. Please.”

You ignore him before shooting Marco a sweet smile, one that you usually reserve for people that weren’t the bane of your existence.

“He wishes,” you hum and Jungkook kicks you in the shin.

Marco leaves, telling the both of you that he hopes you’d enjoy the food. You will, obviously, this cafe was your favourite for a reason and you needed that douse of serotonin after the events you were put through the night before.

Even recalling what had happened, how you felt and the bitter tang that it leaves in your chest is enough to turn your face tetchy. Jungkook, despite his half-asleep state, picks up on your change of expression.

“Spill before I leave,” he sighs, and you know that even if he feigns disinterest, he was more curious about your life drama than anything else. Only Jeon Jungkook would live off your life crises.

“That’s what I need,” you say in all seriousness.

“To spill?” he asks with a raised brow, visibly confused.

“A boyfriend,” you say, eyes wide as if you’ve just hit a revelation.

Jungkook blinks.

“A man is literally the cause of all your problems and you want a boyfriend?!”

“A man, not men,” you sniff pathetically, “And okay. Maybe not like a boyfriend. But a boy-friend,” you attempt to explain as you gesture your arms.

Jungkook only stares at you like you’ve grown another head. And you don’t think it’s unwarranted. You’re aware you sound a little insane, but Marco triggered something in you that you didn’t realise could be an obvious solution.

A boyfriend wasn’t what you were looking for, it was a—

“Distraction. I need a distraction,” you declare.

“That is the worst fucking idea I’ve heard coming from you and you’re a bottomless bit of horrible ideas,” he scowls.

“Excuse me? How dare you!” you hiss, “This is not a bad idea.”

Jungkook gawks at you in disbelief, exceptionally more awake when he leans forward with a stern glint in his eyes.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re literally in love with someone?” he exasperates.

“Geez, I said I needed a distraction, not a reminder,” you mumble bitterly, folding your arms across your chest as you stare at your food.

“Listen, I know I condemn half the shit you do because it’s you but I’m really drawing the line at a boyfriend,” he blinks.

“What, are you like in love with me or something?” you snort.

Jungkook blinks at you. You stare.

He opens his mouth, then closes it.

“I’m leaving.”

Before he can abandon you, you’re tugging on his sleeve with a whine. “Okay, okay. Too far, I know.”

Jungkook glares at you as if to say damn straight before he settles back onto his chair with his stance more confrontational than you’d appreciate it to be.

“Look. This is a bad idea,” he says seriously, “You tell me over the phone that you almost told Yoongi you were in love with him in the same hour you accused him of being friends with you only to sleep with your sister. How did you suddenly jump to the conclusion that a boyfriend would solve all of your problems?”

You knew Jungkook was serious. And deep down, you knew he was right. But it wasn’t a matter of who was right or wrong, but the quickest form of conciliation that you could obtain before your heart dug a deeper hole that it couldn’t crawl out of.

The longer you think, the more you know that you and Yoongi were never going to happen. You see Instagram story updates from your sister and it’s always with him. Always with him showing his rare smile at her like it was only reserved for her. He was a busy man, a doctor, and yet—he always made time for Haerin.

It sucked to know that you were there only when he remembered you were.

“I need to move on, Jungkook,” you blink. “I know it isn’t the best idea but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Distance yourself from him,” he hisses like it’s obvious.

It is, isn’t it? Pulling away from Yoongi to give yourself time and space to allow your heart to breathe. To stop wishing that you were your sister, to stop wishing that you were his.

But you don’t know if you had the strength to do that on your own. You weren’t disciplined. You knew what was good for you but that didn’t mean you sought for it. You were human, a vastly average human that did average things. Sometimes things were below average, too. And that meant sometimes you fell into unhealthy mechanisms, enough to allow yourself to feel something else but dread.

“Won’t this help? Meeting a new guy?” you reason softly.

“And that’s fair for the other guy? To be your rebound?”

You flinch.

“If you’re doing this to get over Yoongi, then I’m against it. As your friend I can’t just let you do this to yourself and someone else,” he says sternly.

“I’m not going to jump into marriage with him, Jungkook,” you frown, “All I’m saying is that I … start putting myself out there, you know? I’ve stayed away from dating because I didn’t want to date anyone apart from … yeah. This isn’t about me finding a rebound. It’s about me allowing myself to move on.”

“And what’s going to happen then? You drop your entire friendship with Yoongi?” You know it’s a valid question, but you haven’t thought too far. You didn’t know if you were able to bear being friends with Yoongi even after everything. But your heart and mind were tired. You couldn’t rationalise anything anymore.

“No. Do I always need a plan?” you snap, rather irritated. “If something happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. That’s life, isn’t it? Why do I need to rationalise and conceptualise all my decisions?”

Jungkook frowns, unimpressed before he’s levelling you with a serious stare.

“I’m not telling you to plan ten or fifteen years down the road. I’m telling you to think. You’re … hurting. And you’re less likely going to be making decisions that you won’t regret in the future now,” he says.

“I appreciate it, I do. But I think I know what’s best for me,” you say stubbornly, poking into your food as you peer up at him. Jungkook looks annoyed, that enough is obvious when you recognise the tick in his jaw. But what else did you do bother than vex the people around you? It was your character. A character that was hard to understand, even harder to like.

You swallow.

“I don’t need your permission,” you say quietly, “I just needed a friend.”

Jungkook’s face softens, even if you know he still disagrees.

“And you have one,” he replies, right before he slides one of his side dishes towards you. He raises a brow when you eye it sceptically.

“I’m not going to poison you, relax,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “So, who did you have in mind?”

You blink, and a small smile makes its way onto your face.

“No one. I’ll just go with the flow.”

Jungkook snorts.

You’ve met Jung Hoseok a few times.

It was hard not to notice him, really. He was either the loudest person in every room in the best way possible, or he was mingling with everybody and anybody that would take him.

You remember when you first were introduced to Hoseok, a few years back when you made your necessary appearance at one of your sister’s charity events. You were relatively young, and equally as scorned so you were huddled in your own lone corner before you were greeted with a burst of light.

“___!”

He knew your name. Of course, he did. Besides being friendly, Jung Hoseok was strategic. He was good at his job, and you suppose that a businessman meant that he needed to network as much as possible, and essentially—kiss ass.

You remember being confused, but Hoseok was so nice that you couldn’t do your usual thing and awkwardly excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You were friends. And that was only your first meeting.

But now, you think Jung Hoseok could be a little better than a friend, especially when you don’t hind your intent behind your gaze when you lock eyes with him from across the room.

Another event, you don’t know what for. You just know that your mother told you to lay low, as usual. Let your sister do the talking. You’re just here for formality.

You didn’t need to be reminded.

You sip on your drink, virgin because you wanted to be sober if anything happened.

(The last time you drank at an event didn’t end so well for you.)

Hoseok shoots you a wide smile, already excusing himself from the group he was a part of before he makes his way through the crowd, filled with intent when he raises his class to greet you.

You grin, stifling a giggle when he nearly bumps into one of your parents’ colleagues. His smile is enough to alleviate the situation, the man patting him on the back good-naturedly rather than curse him out if it were anyone else.

“Jung Hoseok,” you greet sweetly, smiling up at him with a purposeful flutter of your lashes when he finally reaches right in front of you.

“And ____,” he smirks, “You look beautiful.”

Another thing about Hoseok was that he wasn’t shy with his compliments. He was extremely generous, and he was genuine.

“Well, I’d tell you you look great but I’m pretty sure you’ve heard that a hundred times already,” you say.

“True,” he agrees easily, earning a snort from you right before he levels you with a flirty wink. “But not from the person I wanted to hear it most from.”

“Did my mother deprive you of her coddles?”

He laughs, loud and contagious. He earns a few eyes, but when they realised it’s just Hoseok, the guests go back to their conversations. That was how easy it was with Hoseok. He was a ball of contagious energy, wherever he went.

“Her daughter did,” he throws back easily.

“So, Haerin?” you tease and saying her name doesn’t feel so bad when Hoseok sighs deeply, as if bothered.

“You, sweetheart,” he corrects, leaning closer.

You’re against the bar, usually where you reside at these events. And Hoseok has you pressed ever so slightly in a way that makes you feel the heat, but not insinuative enough for anyone to frown at.

“Should’ve said so earlier,” you grin, right before you place a hand on his chest to rub down the lapel of his collar. “You look good.”

“Just good?” he pouts, pulling away ever so slightly, allowing you some space as you roll your eyes.

“Don’t want to stroke your huge ego,” you tell him, lowering your voice into a husk as you see Hoseok swallow.

Hoseok has always been handsome. His sharp features drew the attention of anyone in the room, and his impeccable style. It was both because he was rich and stylish that made him look immensely better in clothes that you were sure would look ordinary on anyone else.

He was in a simple black and white ensemble, forgoing the traditional bowtie or tie by leaving his neck bare. The top few buttons were unbuttoned, leaving the delicious expanse of his chest exposed. His hair was slicked back, revealing his forehead which made him look infinitely hotter than he actually was.

Maybe that’s why you take your leap of faith. When if not now?

“Could stroke something else, though,” you hum.

Hoseok freezes, the hand that rests on the counter behind you stilling as you swallow your pride to shoot him a demure grin.

“So now you’re looking my way?” he whispers softly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Just for tonight,” you shrug, leaning closer as you feel your chest pressed against his.

He feels unfamiliar, and that’s exactly what you needed.

“I’m a busy man, sweetheart,” he says with a raised brow.

You smile.

Perfect.

“That’s exactly what I need.”

That’s enough for him to be dragging you out of the hall, uncaring if people were staring or hypothesised what the other daughter of your family was doing while Haerin did her thing. There was a thrill in being so … careless so purposefully.

You’ve just made it out, the lobby completely empty as Hoseok navigates his way through the venue with expert precision. You were sure he had this place memorised like the back of his hand, having his own events hosted here being a successful entrepreneur himself.

He’s leading you to a room you’ve never seen occupied but was vast enough to fit ten people. You feel a tingle down your spine at the implications, and before you can think twice—you pull his arm back with force as his eyes widen, and kiss him.

“Woah there,” he chuckles, low and deep when his hands sneak around your waist before they trail to the plump flesh of your ass, squeezing them.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly, pulling away with a cute grin. “Wanted to do that.”

His eyes darken, and he’s pulling you in, pressing you against the wall as you gasp.

His thighs dig in between your legs, firmly pressed against your mound as you whimper. He’s so quick. So agile that your head is spinning. You almost forget that you were still out in public, especially when his hand trails up to cup your tit.

“So fucking pretty, you know that?” he murmurs.

“Just pretty?” you throw back, head following your words as he presses hot kisses against your jaw.

“Greedy,” he grins, right before you feel his hand trail underneath your dress through the slit.

Your hands find their way towards his crotch, already palming his hardening member as he grunts.

“I think I’m pretty generous,” you say coyly, emphasising your point with a squeeze.

He narrows his eyes at you before crushing his lips against yours again with a dark, hooded gaze.

“I’m gonna have fun with you sweetheart,” he growls.

“I’m all yours—” you begin to say breathlessly, and the door to the room slams open—cutting you off.

Your reflexes aren’t fast enough, but Hoseok’s ones are. He immediately covers your body with his, preserving your modesty with the way your dress was hitches around your thighs, and the collar of your dress that threatens to expose your free nipples.

“What the fuck,” Hoseok exhales, and you feel him relax ever so slightly. But you’re tense.

“Hoseok,” the voice says blankly, and you feel the blood drain from your face when you immediately recognise it. You feel his stare next. “___.”

“Jesus Christ, would you knock?” he laughs tightly, pushing you behind him as you take it, digging your head into his back in mortification. “Sorry. I got—uh … a little …”

You get a peak from Yoongi, and you notice that his eyes are hardened. And he doesn’t bother hiding his gaze when he rests it directly on Hoseok.

“This is a public event …” Yoongi trails off, and you feel his eyes suddenly drop onto your figure behind Hoseok. You immediately duck your head, rubbing your lips to remove any sign of saliva. “Just—lock the door.”

You freeze.

“I—well …” Hoseok stammers, shaken by Yoongi’s clipped tone.

“We will,” you cut in, eyes firm even if you feel your body shaking.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, and when you finally reveal yourself from behind him, you see Yoongi’s gaze only fixed to your face, his jaw hardened. You don’t know what to make out of his response, but he doesn’t look the least bit moved. Eyes never straying away from beneath your face.

He stares at you, and you’re staring back at him with a sense of determinacy and a refusal to back down. Your heart still rattles against your chest, and you feel Hoseok’s soft touch against your lower back.

“Don’t take too long,” he says, tone suddenly returning to normal as his eyes drift to Hoseok’s. “Her parents will start wondering where she is.”

“I can take care of myself,” you snap.

Yoongi looks at you, and it’s just empty. Completely blank. You can’t read him yet again and here you were being riled up simply by his presence. You hate it.

But you can’t stop the way your heart wants him to show you something. So you know that he feels. That he’ll react or overreact.

Yoongi doesn’t. He never does when it comes to you.

He just nods his head slowly, before he reaches for the door again, back turned to the both of you.

“You can,” he says in response, right before the door shuts.

You just realise that you’re breathing heavily, and Hoseok’s hand shakes you out from your daze.

When you turn around, you see his face morph into a look of concern.

You don’t want pity.

You want to forget.

“Well—”

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you whisper, pulling him by his blazer as his chest slams against yours. Your voice is tinged with desperation.

“___ …” he says, suddenly hesitant. You wonder if he sees it too. The way you always reach out for a man that never quite accepts your grasp.

“Make me forget,” you whimper.

You don’t know if Hoseok thinks you’re referring to the embarrassment of almost being caught, or if he knows what you feel on a deeper level. But his gaze drifts to your lips.

As if sensing his hesitancy, you smash your lips against his own.

“Make me forget,” you repeat, already slipping off your dress.

His eyes darken, and it’s a blur from then.

You remember the squelches permeating the air, loud and lewd when he had you pressed against the door as he slams his deft fingers into your sodden cunt. You remember the way he had your legs wrapped around his head as he laps you dry. You remember the way you tugged his pants down and gagged on his cock as far as it goes, tears dribbling down your cheek. You remember the way he fucked into you, promising to make you forget with every grind of his hips.

You scream and moan his name, and the two of you don’t care that anyone could hear. You cry his name more times than you can remember in an attempt to replace the one that continues to plague your mind.

Even as Hoseok has you locking up in pleasure on his cock, cunt squeezing tightly around his shaft—you can only think of the fact that Yoongi had left.

Like he always had, to return to the person he really wanted. The person that didn’t make bad decisions. Who wasn’t selfish.

The person who wasn’t you.

You’re breathless and well-spent. Your body is satiated but your heart still hurts. And as if Hoseok senses this, he speaks up as the two of you recover from your high.

“We should do this again.”

You pause.

“Hoseok … I’m not—I don’t think …” you say softly, stammering as your eyes avoid his.

You couldn’t.

“Sweetheart, as amazing as you are, I’m not ready for that either,” he says with a tilted grin, buttoning his shirt and zipping up his pants before he helps you on your wobbly feet.

You flush. “I mean—I just … sorry,” you finish lamely.

He laughs, brushing a hair away from your face. Your heart clenches because the act is so familiar yet so distant. It wasn’t the touch you’ve always known.

“Whenever you need me,” he murmurs, “As a friend or as a relief, I’m a call away.”

Your eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Babe, as great as that was, I value you as a friend too,” he snorts as you roll your eyes at him. “Besides, you seem like you have a lot to say.”

It’s obvious that he knows, and you feel defeated, thinking that you were able to full him and yourself.

“Was I that obvious?” you mumble.

Hoseok tilts your chin up to offer you a small smile. “I got that from him, ___.”

You freeze, stunned. But before you can say anything, Hoseok is wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Say, let’s ditch and get some food,” he offers, “This event is boring anyway.”

You flounder for a moment, but Hoseok easily as you on your feet again, animatedly discussing drive-thru options as he swings his keys around. You stare at the back of his head when you walk, and you wonder if this was enough of a distraction.

A friend like Hoseok.

And you, forgetting someone like Yoongi.

[lacheri]

Hello Cherry I have a request! Eren always teasing and being a little mean to the reader so she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine (so sorta like a sub! eren x brat tamer! reader) okay that is all ilysm bye bye

hi Kat!! you send me the best prompts 🤤 I hope you enjoy thank you for requesting ily!!!

too much

pairing: sub/brat!Eren x brat tamer!fem bodied reader

content: Eren’s an asshole, established relationship, ruined orgasms, oral (f and m receiving), humiliation/degradation kink, minors DNI.

wc: 3.5k

notes: this is unedited I literally just wrote this up as fast as I could bc this ask drove me WILD

Your fists were clenched at your sides, fingernails digging crescents on the inside of your palms, knuckles white. You were stomping through your shared living room with your boyfriend, curses and swears leaving your lips. Eren had managed to piss you completely off, feelings of humiliation and frustration fueling the fire coursing through your veins.

It all started earlier this morning, waking up next to your sleepy boyfriend, kissing his cheek sweetly. Your half naked bodies wrapped together in a cocoon of blankets, hair messy and eyelids heavy. Usually, Eren would stir awake and return your kisses with enthusiasm, but he had cracked a single eye open this morning, frowned and grumbled, and pushed you off of him. You had pouted, feeling rejected, and immediately flung yourself out of the bed to get ready for the day. When Eren had finally woken up, joining you in your shared bathroom as you brushed your teeth, he made no effort to console you. He saw the wrinkles on your forehead as your eyebrows furrowed together, a tell all sign for what you were feeling. He simply brushed past you, grabbing his own toothbrush and standing right beside you as if he hadn’t been so recklessly ignorant of you.

When the two of you had spit and gargled mouthwash, he cleared his throat, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips, “What’s your deal?”

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief second, and you rolled your eyes and stomped off back to your bedroom to get dressed. Fuck him, if he wanted to start the day off so sour, he was going to get the same attitude back.

Eren followed behind you, smirk still growing, “You’re mad I pushed you away this morning, aren’t you?”

“So you did it on purpose?” you couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice, back facing him as you searched through your closet. You really had intended to ignore Eren for a while, letting him stew in your cold shoulder treatment, but he always knew how to crawl under your skin and get a rise out of you.

“Just wanted to see how you’d react,” he teased, coming directly behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder, arms crossed on his bare chest. “I was right.”

Fury licked flames up your throat and you stepped forward, throwing your boyfriend off balance. You didn’t want to play whatever game he was trying to set up, you had things to do today besides bend to Eren’s will. Hearing his response, it drove motivation into the pits of your mind that Eren was not going to get a reaction out of you anymore today.

However, he had other plans.

Today has been your day off from work and school, as well as Eren’s day off. The plan was to straighten up the house, invite your friends over in the evening and order pizza. Nothing too crazy or over the top, just a nice relaxing day.

Things didn’t quite work out that way. After the two of you had gotten dressed and made breakfast, every single time you tried to clean an object, Eren would somehow get in the way. He pulled books of the bookcase and left them on the floor or any surface he could find, managed somehow to fill the sink with dirty dishes, not rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher, and found every article of clothing between the two of you to toss on the bedroom floor. The hour long cleaning session had turned into the entire day, long enough that you had to text your friends that tonight wasn’t going to work out.

Because every time you made progress in your small home, Eren would find another thing that got added to the list. As much as it infuriated you, mostly because Eren was supposed to be helping you, you couldn’t let it phase you. No, you knew he was trying to piss you off. You weren’t going to crack under his pressure, not give him the satisfaction of seeing you wound up and upset.

The last straw had snapped when he walked into the living room, seeing you pick up the last book he had thrown on the floor, and opened his stupid mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning?” Eren spat. “This house is a complete disaster.”

Your eyes flickered incredulously to the wall clock, six o’clock it had read, your entire day wasted away, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You searched for a hint of playfulness in his expression, seeing nothing but his stone cold eyes piercing into you as he spoke without hesitation, “I’m entirely fucking serious. How are we supposed to have company over if you can’t clean a fucking house?”

“Already cancelled,” you fumed, standing up from your crouched position, leaving the book on the floor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?”

“You. What? Do you need me to use your name at every sentence whenever I talk to you?” Eren kept edging, a feel of gratification consuming him upon learning his friends weren’t coming over anymore. “How am I supposed to marry someone who can’t fucking clean?”

You felt sharp pangs of hurt in your chest, eyes losing their spark, “Eren, that’s mean. Why are you being so mean today?”

He had only smirked, reveling in your mood switch. In the silence shared then, he announced he was getting a bath, he had such a hard working day and wanted to relax. He had left you in the living room alone, and you felt the anger inside of you bubble up, threatening to go over. You snapped, heading straight to the bathroom where you could hear the flow of water into the tub stop.

The door slammed against the wall as you threw it opened, seeing Eren jump slightly at the impact. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, arms stretched out against the rim of the tub, and in any other situation you’d be crawling into the water with him. He’d be so sweet about it too, bringing you to his chest and giving you kisses while you giggled at the attention. Hell, he’d probably even shower you in compliments and appreciation. Not today though, his eyes hardened as you stopped right in front of him.

“Out, now,” you ordered through clenched teeth. You could hear Eren’s breath kick up, but he didn’t move. “Are you deaf? Get out, now, Eren.”

His body moved before his mouth could protest, standing stark naked in the shin deep water. You could see the steam rise off of his skin, your eyes trailed downwards. Although soft, his dick was still impressive, but the longer you stared at the fleshy member, it twitched and rose a bit. You quirked an eyebrow, realization dawning on you. Oh, so this was why Eren was acting like this today?

You made eye contact with him then, his legs shifting over the rim of the tub, before standing directly in front of you. Your hand whipped up to the back of Eren’s head, fisting his hair, and yanking his head back, exposing every line and vein and bulge in his throat.

“This what you wanted? Wanted to get me all angry so I could take it out on you?” Eren’s dick was rock solid, giving you a physical answer, but you still needed the verbal one, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he choked out, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat.

“Well it fucking worked. I have half a mind to leave you here, like this, to take care of yourself,” you pulled his hair further, a gasp leaving his parted lips.

“No, please, don’t,” Eren’s voice came out whiny as he begged. You smirked, although he wasn’t able to see it as his eyes faced directly up to the ceiling.

“You’re going to drain this tub,” you began to instruct, tilting his head so his eyes trailed to your hard set ones. “And then you’re going to dry off, and go lay flat on your back on the bed. Do you understand me?”

He nodded feverently, happy you released your grip as his neck had begun to ache. You smoothed that same hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, “Good boy.”

Eren set to work quickly, giddy with excitement. This had been his plan all along, to get you riled up enough to take it out on him. Genuinely, Eren hadn’t meant to start this at all today. When you had kissed him awake, he was having a really good dream he didn’t want to wake up from quite then, and hadn’t meant to push you away. Upon seeing your sad pout, followed by a flicker of anger in your orbs, something stirred within Eren. He began to question, just how far could he push you until you caved in?

Eren didn’t stick around to watch the tub fully drain, he was dried off and on the bed just as you had requested. You leaned against the wall, clad only in your bra and panties, and you watched him with hungry eyes as he followed your every instruction. Your boyfriend was a beautiful man, every part of him intriguing and gorgeous to you. He looked like a Greek God, arms and legs spread out, the subtle light from your bedside lamps casting shadows across his abs and into the V of his pelvis. Eren had a beautiful cock as well, thick and long and veiny, it sat perched on his lower abdomen, twitching as you pushed yourself off the wall to loom over your man.

“Look at you,” you mused, letting a dark chuckle vibrate from your chest. “You’re already hard and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he answered. The skin on his cock was so taut and tight, feeling somewhat light headed as all the blood was rushed to his member.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you, right? For being so mean to me today?” you batted your eyelashes, crawling on to the bed, sitting on your knees by his side, refusing to touch him just yet.

“I know,” Eren whined, trying to reach out to touch your thigh only to be met with the harsh slap of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” you cooed in false security, brushing Eren’s hair out of his beautiful face. “But that’s okay, you’re gonna’ make it up to me, right now.”

You traced the outline of Eren’s plump lips, resting your forehead against his as you muttered in your darkest voice, “I’m taking away your right to touch me. Convince me you’re sorry, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Eren squirmed under the heat of your words, eyes darting across your face for a hint of a lie, of hesitation. He found nothing, only the glimmer of lust in your eyes as you gazed down at him. Your fingers pushed past his soft lips, and he needed no instruction to latch on and suck. If this was the only touch he would get of you, your fingers pumping into his mouth, scissoring his tongue, he’d take it all so greedily to make you regret putting these rules in place. He never broke eye contact, curling and circling his tongue between your pointer and middle fingers, imagining they were the divine petals between your thighs. You were doing the same, feeling the gush of arousal slicken you. You tapped his tongue, signaling a release. He parted his now swollen lips easily, eyes pleading.

“Can I kiss you at least?” Eren rasped, his hands twitching at his sides.

“No,” you placed a contrasting sweet kiss to his forehead in your dark tone. “That would be touching, sweetheart.”

Eren held back a whine, knowing it was futile. He was simply going to have to lay there, and take whatever punishment he had coming, unable to escape it or bring you pleasure amongst it all. If there was a glimmer of hope, it was crushed as he felt your face travel down to his neck. You were in complete control, just as Eren had wanted.

You sucked and licked at his throat, your dry hand coming up to squeeze what skin you weren’t kissing. You trailed your lips down, kissing his entire torso. As much as you wanted to spend the time working Eren up, you had ideas swirling in your head. Eren had no patience with you today, so you weren’t going to have patience with him. Besides, it was sort of cruel to not pay immediate attention to his swollen cock.

Your hand slicked in his saliva wrapped around the base of his length, a sharp intake of breath heard from Eren’s lips. It came out shaky as you began to pump, his precum oozing from his tip and meeting the warm wetness of your fingers. You twisted your hand up and down, beginning to feel the moisture rub away, his spit drying. This was no good, and you continued to kiss down his stomach until your lips met the head of his reddened cock. He hissed as you spat on it, hand spreading it all over. Your tongue slipped past your lips, kitten licking at his tip. Eren couldn’t think straight, and he settled his hands above him to try and keep his grip as far away from you as he could.

It was nearly impossible to not grab your hair and slam you down as your sweet lips parted and you began to suck his fat tip. Eren succeeded though, knuckles white gripping pillows, and he heaved out a groan. You swiped your tongue along his slit, tastebuds soaking up his salty precum. You prodded in just a little bit, sending a shiver up Eren’s spine. Your hand still doing most of the work, you thought you’d up the game by throwing your other hand in the mix. Eren let out a high pitched moan, throwing his head back at the onslaught of attention.

“It’s so fucking cruel I can’t touch you,” he whined yet again, craning his neck to meet your eyes.

You popped your mouth from his head, “I guess I’m going to be downright evil after what I’m about to do.”

Before Eren could respond, your hands moved to his thighs and his cock was swallowed into the back of your throat. He couldn’t stop the noises he was making as you bobbed your head unbelievably fast, sucking him more and more until your nose buried into the neatly kept curls above his shaft. You were trying your hardest not to gag, your throat entirely full, and Eren was trying his hardest not to cum on impact. You pulled back a bit, tears blinked back from your eyes, and returned a single hand to work what you couldn’t reach.

Eren’s thighs tightened, his breathing hitching, “Fuck, I’m getting so close.”

At this reveal, your pace only quickened, full intentions of bringing him to his utmost height. Your cheeks sucked harder, tongue lapping the underside of his length, and you were covered in your own spit. Sloppy and messy, just how Eren liked it. How you seemed to like it, as well.

“Right there, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Eren called out alongside your name, hips bucking into your mouth. Your other hand met the swell of his balls, feeling them tighten up as his release was right there. As Eren let out the first whine to signal his climax, you yanked your hands away and slipped your mouth off with a pop.

He spasmed, too far gone to stop. His dick stood tall, shooting his load onto his stomach, throbbing so hard and so uncomfortably that tears rolled down Eren’s cheeks. You had ruined his orgasm. His cock was leaking clear fluid, his body frustrated with the lack of contact, entirely unsatisfied. His jaw slacked open, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at you in disbelief.

“That’s what you get for trying to piss me off all day,” you growled, wiping the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Stay right there, Eren.”

You got off the bed, reaching into your bedside table to pull out two objects — a tiny vibrator and a suit tie. You yanked Eren’s hands up, tying them to your headboard. You undressed yourself quickly, revealing your naked body to Eren’s greedy eyes. His dick hadn’t softened, still painfully erect and needy as he subconsciously bucked into the air. You didn’t comment, knowing how bad Eren wanted you and your attention back to his pulsating member. You threw your thighs around his neck, straddling the lower half of his face.

“You want me to touch you?” Eren nodded, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Make me cum, and I’ll return the favor.”

Easy enough, Eren thought, lolling his tongue out for you to place your glistening folds on. You sat down fully, letting out a moan as your hips circled his mouth, your hands latched into his hair. Eren heard the soft click of the vibrator in your hands, and moved his south south, knowing exactly what it was you were searching for.

You gasped as his tongue penetrated your tight hole, walls fluttering around his wet muscle as you slid the vibrator right up to your clit. If Eren had only had his hands, you wouldn’t need that little toy to satisfy you. He’d be doing all the work, bringing you all your pleasure up to your climax. All Eren’s work, but you didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.

Because this was you, and you were in full control, there was absolutely no point in teasing yourself. You were rewarding yourself, Eren just happened to be a part of the ride, literally. You thought of all the mean words he had said to you today, all the teases and inconveniences. Your hand in his hard gripped harder, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to level your moans.

“You pissed me off so fucking bad today,” your head was thrown back as Eren fucked you with his tongue, your hips pressing down harder. “You were so mean. Now look at you, pathetic. Letting me fuck your face like the little brat you are.”

Eren felt his cock twitch, feeling similar waves of humiliation you had felt today. He knew better than to speak, instead, thrusting his tongue even harder into your entrance to show his response. You were right, he had wanted to feel completely powerless under your wrath, wanted you to use him as if he was disposable, to punish him. When he felt your hand leave his hair, feeling the harsh sting of a slap on his chest behind your ass, he was grateful. This is all he wanted, tears brought to his eyes in pure joy.

Your nails dug into his peck, your orgasm fast approaching, “Oh my God, you’re such a good boy, keep going. Oh fuck, Eren I’m about to cum.”

Eren felt pure pride and love swell in his body, ruined by a cold chill of blinding pleasure. No, no, he was not going to cum with no contact, surely? His scrotum tightened, eyes slamming shut. You were going to be livid when you saw the mess he was creating.

Eren’s cock shot thick white ropes into your back, yes, from that far away. It was just all too much, the degradation, it was like your words had been stroking him up the entire time. His body vibrated, but he forced his eyes to open to watch you fall apart above him.

Your wrist flicked fast with the vibrator in hand, feeling your walls clench and tip over the edge. You screamed breathlessly, pushing your entire lower half into Eren’s mouth. Eren could feel the tingle of your toy against his nose, a small goofy smile on his lips as he thought of how funny it would be if he sneezed. You pulled it away quickly though, mind coming back together as you began to worry about how hard you had pushed into his face. Your orgasm slowed, walls contracting at a much lazier pace, and you lifted your hips.

“Good boy,” you praised, eyes full of love as you reached up to untie his hands. “You did such a good job, baby.”

You hadn’t noticed what Eren had done until you felt a cold brush against your lower back and ass. You hand circled around, feeling the wet sticky spots, and your jaw dropped.

“Eren, did you cum from just eating me out?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he was pleading, shying away from your widened eyes. “Was too much.”

Eren thought you would’ve been furious, instead, a soft laugh echoed in your chest. You moved off of him, laying on your stomach to place a sweet kiss to his lips. He eagerly returned it, happiness tickling throughout his entire body. When you pulled away, you rested your head on his shoulder while his arms circled your waist.

“That’s the hottest thing ever,” you admitted, curling a strand of his hair in your finger.

“I’m going to piss you off more often,” Eren joked lightly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like this side of you.”

“Please, Eren, don’t. Next time you want me to top, just fucking ask me.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[ushidoux]

November Baby - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Wakatoshi offers you a little more than just chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day. (~2.7k words)

Warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy talk, cisfem!reader, nsfw

A/N: Breeding kink and big one-track minded boy just go hand in hand. This is for @prettysetterbaby’s Valentine’s Day collab!

---

Wakatoshi never told you directly that he wanted children, but he signaled so in every possible way. 

It was initially subtle - of course, he’d always loved your hips, but his eyes and hands started to rest on them more often, and soon your belly became his favorite place to plant soft kisses, and his fingers started to favor the dip in your waist and the smoothness of your hips.

In the evenings when you washed up for the night, his eyes seemed to hone in on your facial features more than usual, and while he stood beside you at the bathroom sink to get ready of his own accord as you brushed your teeth and swiped toner on your face and neck, you could see him perform a sort of math in his head, adding and subtracting from the elements that comprised the two of you. 

You took note of all these behaviors, but you declined to pick his brain because your Toshi was always direct, and you knew that if he was quiet now, it was only because he was still coming up with the proper words to express what he was feeling.

But he let you know all right, in the middle of a crowded department store in the heart of Warsaw that looked like it had been ransacked by Cupid’s battalion many times over.

“Is Poland just really into Valentines’ Day or is it this store?” You joked, as you followed your husband leisurely pushing a shopping cart you’d overloaded with essentially useless trinkets and decorative items. You’d moved into your new home just a couple of weeks ago, and still were engrossed with the task of filling the empty spaces between comfy furniture and elegant fixtures. 

You were now trekking through the realm of cribs and diapers and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the frankly quite excessive marketing. Red and pink hearts were everywhere, as were flowers, huge balloons, chubby angels and red crossbows, you name it.

“Oh my God, even the baby section is Valentine’s Day themed??? No wonder everyone I know is born in November!”

You were busy laughing at your own joke, but instead, he looked at you with the slightest bit of caution in his hazel eyes, leaning over the cart as it rolled to a stop and gripping the handles carefully.

“Let’s have a November baby, too,” he said, abruptly enough to stun you for a split second.

Your eyes grew slightly wide, your face growing hot at his clear and concise statement, and you quickly looked around to see if anyone else had picked up his distinct baritone. You knew in your heart of hearts he was completely serious, and flustered, you bumped him slightly on the hip.

“Why would you say it right now?” You hissed.

“Does it matter where I say it?” He asked, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. You pouted, fingers tightening on the handles of the shopping cart as well. His eyes were still on you, again, gauging your reaction, worried if he was too forward and if he had somehow made you upset with his suggestion.

“Only if you want to of course, my love,” he reassured again, his hand now covering yours. His smile was understanding, even if there was a hint of lingering hope.

The warmth was fading from your face, your heartbeat that had sped up due to embarrassment now settling with the stroke of his thumb over the back of your hand.

It didn’t take you long to think because the thought had already crossed your mind. Being heavy with his child, then eventually coming to this very store with a small little one that looked like the two of you…

It was a delightful thought, actually.

“Wine and dine me first,” you teased, kissing him quickly on the nose, “and then we can consider having a Valentine’s Day baby.”

He grinned, the slightest bit of mischief in his glance.

“I’ll have you pregnant by the end of the night.”

---

Dumping your pill pack into the trash was a surprisingly simple ordeal and you were very thankful it was mainly used for birth control over anything else. But out of an abundance of caution, you’d decided to shoot a message to your primary care doctor earlier that morning anyway and gotten the green light to start immediately, which was reassuring if not embarrassing. While you knew she didn’t take it this way, part of you felt like you’d essentially disrupted her life to say by the way, my husband’s gonna fuck me into oblivion until i pee positive on a stick, any objections?

Ushijima seemed to be taking this ordeal very seriously as he was prone to do, his diet even more regimented than usual despite being off-season and adding an extra ten minutes to his morning jog, a protein-heavy green smoothie in hand. While that was cute, what wasn’t cute was the fact that he hadn’t touched you in the past week.

When you rolled over to him in the middle of the night, slipping your hand down his boxers to try to get him to give you what he wanted, he responded with a kiss on the lips before gently removing your hand off of him and intertwining his fingers with that hand instead. 

“If I’m going to breed you, it’s gonna be special,” he murmured almost directly into your ear, a tinge of slumber in his voice making his voice even more seductive.

Breed? The thought itself had your heart racing but not as much when he added,

“I’m saving up to fill you with the biggest load possible, sweetheart.” 

With that, he patted you on the head before whispering for you to go to sleep and anchoring an arm around your midsection to snuggle with you, but the thought of what he would do to you had you wide, wide awake.

---

The fact that you were so focused on the main event made it easier for Ushijima to surprise you with the rest of the activities he had planned for Valentine’s Day.

It wasn’t the first since you’d been married, but he’d absolutely put even greater efforts into this one, starting with waking you up (after letting you sleep almost into noon) to an oversized box of chocolates and bouquet of roses and a handmade card with a haiku written in his neat script. If that weren’t enough, he’d brought you brunch to enjoy together, cozied up in bed, and topped off morning kisses with the revelation of a tennis bracelet to go with your engagement ring.

“Toshi, it’s perfect…,” you all but blubbered out, ready to burst into tears. He treated you so well.

“Not as perfect as you,” he said with a smile, welcoming you to bury yourself in his chest.

Dinner warranted more of an effort from you, and so you dressed up in your finest attire for the upscale restaurant, armed with the complete awareness that your husband planned to rip every inch of fabric off of you tonight. It didn’t help that while your meal was pleasant, you could see Ushijima grow impatient with time, adjusting and readjusting the sleeves of his blazer as night approached.

When you finally returned to the front door of your home, you were stuffed but not to bursting, and that very little bit of space left in your belly seemed to fill with new butterflies, especially with Ushijima’s hand resting at the small of your back as he opened the door. 

Why were you so nervous? You’d had sex before, many times over, but something about today felt… different? Maybe it was the looming idea of purpose, and Ushijima knew purpose very well. 

When the door clicked shut, he wasn’t on you immediately as you expected, but he was still ready, as were you. He leaned down to plant yet another kiss on your lips that seemed to whisk the nervousness away - again he was your Toshi, and you were his, and you were going to create life.

“Baby?” He asked, tentatively. 

“Baby,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his neck to start another kiss anew. He carried you effortlessly, keeping his lips pressed to yours as he pulled off your high heels and tossed them haphazardly, leading you back into the bedroom where a smattering of rose petals along the shag carpet and in the center of the bed greeted you, along with a lightly diffused essential oil blend with heavy notes of ylang-ylang and cedarwood.

Laying you carefully on your back, his eyes shifted from soft to focused, practically to match the level of intensity you saw when he was on the court, and your pulse started to pick up again. While he didn’t exactly tear the clothes off of you as you had anticipated, your dress was pulled over your body quite hastily to reveal all of you. Inches of skin to mark, a beautiful body to fill. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured again, leaning into your neck for soft bites and kisses. He was still mostly fully clothed, and you could feel his swollen length press against your pubis, thick and heavy.

He let out a sigh, and climbed off the bed to undress.

“Don’t move,” he ordered as he pulled off tie, shirt, pants, in that order, and you couldn’t tell if you were more distracted by the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, arms, chest and abs, flexing and relaxing with every minute movement or the swell of his fat cock at attention, anxious to bury itself inside you. 

You gulped. You knew this was a ridiculous thought, but for a moment, you wondered if it was somehow bigger today?

Before you even realized what you were saying, you were already pleading, “Toshi… please be gentle…”

Ushijima smirked at your wide-eyed look, then shifted back to taking in your splayed out body with his eyes, as though mapping out his strategy while he idly fisted his length.

“Of course, love. I would never dream of hurting the mother of my kids.” 

Yet, he was absolutely going to have his way with you.

It didn’t take him long to make a decision on how to attack, anyway, because he quickly resumed position hovering over you, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of anticipating, open lips, slightly knit eyebrows over a curious gaze. His lower half pressed against you closely enough that again, you could feel the entirety of his warm, girthy length pressing against the bottom of your quickly wetting cunt to your abdomen.

The sheer span of his cock reminded you that he was basically designed to do this.

The fact that he started moving first, rubbing his length across your belly as if trying out the course before he dove in also reminded you how much your body craved him always. 

His fingers entered you hastily, and he reveled in the way your cunt already made the lewdest of noises, soft audible squishes with every pump of his fingers as he prepped you.

“So eager… so sloppy, waiting to receive all of my cum, aren’t you?” He teased, withdrawing his fingers to show you some of your slick. “You’re receptive,” he added, pulling his two fingers apart to show you the stringiness of your arousal. 

“I-I want this too, you know,” your face growing hot from the tease, hotter still when he sucked your wetness right off his fingers.

“What do you want?” He said, raising an eyebrow, still moving painfully slowly on top of you, but angling his body so that he was just running the entire base of his cock against your wet slit, killing you with every second he wasn’t immediately filling you up.

“Your babies, Toshi...”

That made him smile, and you earned the slight entry of his cockhead into you, forcing a slight moan out of your throat. The stretch was intense, as always, but the fact that he slowed had you squirming for more, as fast as possible. 

“T-Toshi… please, more,” you moaned as you raised your legs to slide down further on his cock, and he held them, pressing both firmly along his side.

“How much cum can you take in this little body of yours?” he asked, pressing right at your umbilicus with one hand, as he pushed in a mere additional inch.

You let out something between a moan and a scream from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched with so many inches to spare.

“Just fill me!!! Please, just put everything inside me,” you whined. 

“As you wish, darling.”

His arms hoisted your legs above his shoulders and he did you the service of thrusting all remaining inches inside you, forcing tears from your eyes from the too full sensation, kissing your ankles beside his head as he gave you time to breathe and adjust. Once you’d settled from the sound of your whimpers slowing, he reached for the headboard behind you before he started his onslaught.

Thrust after thrust after savage thrust, you could hear his groans deepen as he plowed the grounds for his seed, his hands tightening firmly against the wood of your headboard as it creaked for mercy. 

He felt so good, so perfect, so fitting, stretching you out like this to make room for his kin. 

Your fingers etched desire into his back, as you choked up a demand for more sensation, more him, more closeness..

“More, daddy!”

“Daddy is quite correct,” he mused, his hands moving from the headboard to quiet instead the jostle of your breasts, palming them gently. 

They were so pretty to him, he couldn’t wait to see them swell. 

He leaned down again to swallow your moans in a kiss, then opted to flip you above him instead, before he continued to snap his hips, bouncing you into the air.

“T-Toshi, you’re ah- too fast!” You shrieked, barely able to stand upright, the ride too rocky and intense for you. Palming his abdomen to walk your way up despite your movement, he brought you back down flush against his chest again, holding you tightly. 

“Let me do the work,” he whispered, kissing you, making your head swim to distract from the fact that he really was rearranging your guts. “I’ll do at least this much, since you’ll be carrying our child.”

And to that promise, you came almost instantly, an impulse of shock traveling from your slippery cunt up that you could almost feel in the tips of your fingers that made your body clench, your toes curl and the sound that came out of your throat less dainty and more primal, coming from so far deep inside you, even you were afraid.

As if on cue, his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, holding you steady as he pounded into you even further, faster, pushing past fluttering walls and soundless cries coming from your lips, until he finally came with a shudder, spurting thick, hot gobs of liquid that you could feel hitting your cervix.

And it kept coming; he held you tighter, so desperately you thought you might break under his touch, burying his face in your chest - you could feel yourself still clenching around him, so greedy, trying to milk him for even more than the generous amount he was giving you.

It would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant.

When it finally stopped, he left an arm around your back pressing you close to him, letting out a soft, pleased sigh with lowered eyelids. You stayed against him for longer, cockwarming him, your hands languidly coming to rest on both sides of his face.

Your darling Wakatoshi…

He stayed hard inside you, slowly giving you just one more stroke to atone for the small amount of semen that was already threatening to leak out around him, then laid you on your back.

“You’re doing so well already…” he encouraged, scooping up drops of him spilling out of you. “Keep it all in,” he said breathily, a warm palm pressing on your opening. 

“I will, baby,” you nodded, and he gave you another peck on the lips, then moved to one of your mounds to take a pert nipple in his mouth and suck softly. 

His hand lingered on your hot cunt, warm and dripping; he instead focused on stimulating your nipples with the other hand and his lips, forcing another orgasm out of you with time and dedication.

He’d obviously read somewhere orgasms themselves made pregnancy more likely. Always so thorough.

“You... f-feel so good,” you mewled, your back arching with pleasure as he used a thumb to stimulate your clit gently as he kept his semen inside you. 

He smiled, stroking his already re-hardening cock in his hand, preparing for the next round. 

“Anything for my Valentine.” 

With that was implied, the love of his life, and the mother of his kids.

[julek]

7) “are we breaking up?” 💕

The ring burns in Geralt's hand.

He's had it for so long, hidden at the bottom of his bag, two old shirts wrapped around it for good measure. He's looked at it on starless nights and turned it on his finger over and over again for long winters. He's written hundreds of pages under candlelight in Vesemir's library while staring at it, watching the shapes it cast on the walls where the light met its stone.

He's finally ready. His brothers have gone hunting with Vesemir, the candles are lit, and there's a bottle of his best wine cooling in the snow.

Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Pocketing the ring and putting on a confident smile, he walks over to where Jaskier is napping in front of the fire. He takes a minute to drink him in, the soft slope of his nose golden pink against the furs he's wrapped himself around, his curls mussed and tangled against the pillow. He crouches by his side.

"Jask."

One blue eye cracks open. Then closed. "Mm."

Geralt smiles. "Jask, come on."

"Hmmmmmm." Jaskier screws his eyes shut. "We're closed. Come back later."

Geralt bites his lip, thinking of a way to wake him up that doesn’t involve pouring frozen water directly onto his face. "Jask," he says again, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Jaskier's face.

Third time's the charm.

"Ugh," Jaskier complains, sitting up and bringing the blankets up with him as well. He blinks once, twice, then squints at Geralt. "What."

Okay, not the perfect opening Geralt expected. He can make it work, though. "I need to talk to you."

At that, Jaskier is a little more awake. His eyes are wide and Geralt can feel the way his scent changes, but he can't quite put his finger on what it is. Jaskier makes some room for him to sit, and Geralt nods. "Right."

His heart is pounding, and he suddenly forgets every sonnet and ballad he spent months quoting to Lambert as practice, forgets every eloquent sentence Eskel suggested to him as they fenced. He clears his throat, then takes in a deep breath.

Jaskier's looking at him with curiosity and something else he can't quite decipher, so he takes his hands in his. "Jaskier," he stars.

After a moment, and because Geralt hasn't said anything else, Jaskier squeezes his hands. "Yes?"

He clears his throat again. Gods, it hadn't been as hard when he practiced with Vesemir. "You have been by my side for a long time." Okay, not a bad start. "I didn't want your company at first, didn't need it."

Jaskier's face does a complicated thing, so he hurries to continue. "You were loud and reckless and annoying, and more often than not I had to save you from cuckolded husbands and revenge-seeking fathers," he chuckles. "And it took us a while to get to where we are."

Jaskier's eyes are shining as he looks up at him. Perfect, Geralt thinks. I knew I've always been a romantic deep down.

He gets bolder. "I brought you to Kaer Morhen this winter, after many years of someone," he says, and thinks of Lambert's merciless teasing, "pestering me to let you come. But I think it is time I tell you the truth about my feelings."

Geralt's about to bring the ring out of his pocket when a sob escapes Jaskier's mouth. He looks up, confused. "Jaskier?"

Jaskier isn't looking at him, tears running down his cheeks. "Are—" he sniffs, "are we breaking up?"

Geralt freezes in his seat. Breaking up? Where did Jaskier get the idea—

Oh.

He springs into action. "No, no, no," he soothes, taking Jaskier in his arms, loathing the way his tears keep falling. "No, Jask— Gods, I'm an idiot. I'm not breaking up with you." He reaches into his pocket, pulls the ring out. "I'm asking you to marry me."

"You—" Jaskier lets out a strangled sob and tries to speak, but his tears don't let him, so Geralt pulls him against his chest, whispering sweet nothings in his ear until Jaskier's breathing evens out.

Once he can, Jaskier pulls back. "That was you asking me to marry you?"

"Um." Geralt's still holding the ring, and he aims for a smile. "Yes?"

Jaskier covers his flushed face with his hands, muttering into them. "—the most tactless Witcher in the entire Continent, yes." He takes a deep breath. "You— I—" He closes his eyes. "You know what? Just— go on. What were you saying?"

Geralt swallows, tentatively reaches out for Jaskier's hand. He has a feeling he's sleeping in the stables tonight. "Um." He swallows again. "I was about to tell you about my feelings. For you."

Jaskier nods and pats his hand. "Yes, yes. That."

Taking in a deep breath, Geralt steels himself. "What I was trying to say," he starts, "was that I didn't always see you for who you were. For who you are." Jaskier smiles at that, and Geralt squeezes his hand. "Kind. Loving. Brave."

He rubs the stone on the ring with his thumb. "I do now," he says, looking into Jaskier's eyes, drowning in that blue. "And, contrary to what I made you believe a few seconds ago, I can't get enough of you."

Jaskier sniffs. "I love you," Geralt murmurs in the low light, plain and simple. True. "I never wish to be parted from you."

There's a beat of silence. Then—

"You ridiculous, foolish man!" Jaskier exclaims, swatting at his chest. His grin is blinding. "That was all you needed to say! None of that You were nothing but a parasite, I hated you at first glance—"

"I don't believe I said—"

Jaskier's laughter is infectious. Geralt hears it against his chest as he pulls him into his arms. "I love you, you fool." Jaskier looks up at him. "Ugh, I can't believe you did that."

Geralt lets out a laugh, relieved. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you I practiced that, would you?"

Jaskier laughs again, bright and so, so lovely. Geralt loves him too much. "I fear for whoever had to be the pretend recipient of that so-called declaration of love."

"Hmm," Geralt says, and presses a kiss to Jaskier's cheek. Jaskier turns and catches his lips in a tender kiss, full of laughter and longing and love.

"So?" Geralt says when they part.

Jaskier's dopey grin doesn't waver. "So what?"

Geralt presents him the ring. "Will you?"

Jaskier gapes, taking a proper look at the ring, watching it glint in the firelight. Then, he looks at Geralt with a smirk. "I don't believe I heard a question yet."

"Jask," Geralt groans, but looking at Jaskier's shit-eating grin makes his heart feel lighter. He smiles his softest smile and whispers, "Will you marry me?"

Jaskier's left eyebrow rises, and he puts on a ridiculous considering face. Then, earnest, he says, "Yes."

There's the sound of a bottle popping open behind him, and it makes them turn.

"Shit!" comes Lambert's shout-whisper.

"I told you to be quiet," chides Eskel, and Geralt can hear Vesemir's quiet laugh as well.

"You were supposed to be hunting!" He yells, and, at last, from behind a curtain emerge the Wolves. "You weren't supposed to be here."

Lambert's hands are sticky with the wine he's holding in his hands. "By the way your proposal went, I wouldn't be too worried about clearing the space to consummate your love right here in the hall."

"Lambert," Eskel says, hitting his arm.

Geralt looks at Jaskier. "Sorry." He glares at his brothers. "They were supposed to be gone."

Lambert cackles. "Gods know what would've happened if we'd left you truly alone!" He elbows Eskel in the side. "Bet you pretty boy would've made Jaskier pack his bags somehow."

Taking Geralt's hand, Jaskier clears his throat. "It was a beautiful proposal," he says, and only laughs a little bit. "Very original."

Vesemir joins in. "Son," he rumbles, nodding at Geralt. "Give him the ring."

"Oh." Geralt looks at Jaskier, who puts out his left hand expectantly. He kisses his ring finger before sliding the small silver ring in, the plain but imposing stone shining against his tanned skin. "There."

This time, Geralt's sure that the tears that escape Jaskier's eyes are happy ones. He kisses each one away, bringing the bard into his arms once more.

"I love you," he whispers into his hair. Jaskier says it back against his jaw. They stay in each other's arms for a while, reveling in the warmth of their love, of their embrace.

"Yes, yes, love conquers all, we know,” Lambert says, "but we're not getting any younger, the wine isn't getting any cooler—"

Geralt clicks his tongue, and Jaskier laughs as Lambert keeps listing reasons as to why they should stop making pretty eyes at each other and get their asses to Vesemir's congratulatory dinner. Shaking his head, Geralt stands up. He offers Jaskier his hand. "Are you coming?"

Jaskier's ring scratches Geralt's hand as he takes it. It's a pleasant feeling.

"Always."

[aithorin]

An Exception to the Rule - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: Now All Smite was by no means a hero. In fact, he was quite literally the opposite, but for you he might be willing to make an exception. 

Warnings: Mentions/threats of rape (nothing actually happens), Villain Au, Villain!All Might, Blood and violence, Threats of violence, Slight gore, hostage, Protective!All Might (i.e. he basically goes on a rampage cause someone tries to hurt you), Soft ending with hurt/comfort

Rated M for violence

Flying through the city, a smirk made its way onto All Might’s face as he heard a scream echo throughout the night. God, he reveled in the chaos. The chaos that he created. His very presence had allowed the chaos in Japan to fester and grow throughout, and thus every time he heard crimes being committed, his chest swelled with pride. It made his ego surge to watch the fruit of his efforts be harvested and taken advantage of. There was just something so immensely satisfying about it, knowing that every villain in Japan owed the success of their crimes to him. It provided a rush of gratifying adrenaline like no other.

Deciding he had a few minutes to spare, All Might quickly set course towards the sound of the disruption. At the very least, it would provide some entertainment. But, depending on what they were doing to the unfortunate soul, he might even decide to join in. It would be a nice way to unwind before going home to you. God knows how much fun he had seeing the way people cowered at the very sight of him.

Landing silently behind the group, he quietly observed the scene unfold, trying to decide if he wanted to step in.

“Eh this one’s a looker, isn’t she boys? Before the night’s over, I think I’ll use her for the whore that she is.” The one All Might assumed to be the leader taunted, stepping forward to tower over their victim.

Manic laughter floated throughout the air as the two lackeys accompanying him moved in to completely surround their target. “That sounds like a great idea boss! You always have the best ideas. Can we get a turn too? Please. Please. Please!” The one on the right begged.

“Maybe once she’s unconscious. You know it’s only fun for me when they’re awake so I can see the look of fear in their eyes. God, just the thought of it is giving me a hard on already.” The leader chuckled out.

”Pl-please,” A woman’s shaky, frightened voice whimpered out, “let me go. I-I have money. Just tell me what you want!”

At the sound of the woman’s voice, the blood in All Might’s veins turned ice cold. That-that was your voice. And just like that, the overwhelming pride he had been feeling moments ago withered away, consumed by something much more deadly-a feral rage. How dare they talk to you like that? How dare they even try to lay their hands on you? Fists clenched and shaking in anger, All Might stalked towards them, blue eyes blazing and filled with an unquenchable, seething bloodlust.

Unaware of their impending doom, a harsh slap echoed through the night as the leader thug slammed your head into the dumpster you were backed against. He looked down at you, sneering, “Shut up, bitch! You’ll be lucky if you make it out of here alive tonight. You should be grateful that I’m even considering it.”

“I’d leave the girl alone if you know what’s good for you.” A gravelly voice spoke from behind.

Turning around halfway, the leader scoffed, not even bothering to see who the person was. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? This one’s ours, so why don’t you scram before I decide to kill you t-”

He was cut off as a hand shot out, quick as lightning, to wrap around his throat. Before he could even register what was happening, the thug’s eyes bulged as the hand began choking him. He felt himself being lifted 3 feet into the air, and soon came face to face with a set of flaming blue eyes. At the sight of them, his body went stiff in fear. The rest of the newcomer’s face was hidden by the shadows of the night, but just the sight of his eyes were enough to make the thug cower.

“Who….the….hell….are….you?” The leader gasped out, vision going spotty from his quickly draining air supply.

Letting out a sinister chuckle, the newcomer stepped into the light emitting from a nearby streetlamp. Seeing who it was, the leader’s mouth went dry as a sweat broke out on his forehead. His already tight throat closed up even more causing his breath to come out in wheezes as a chill of fear worked its way down his spine, causing his body to tremble in mid-air.

“Al-All...Might” He rasped out, hands pointlessly tugging on the one large hand curled around his throat.

A wicked smile crept onto All Might’s face. “Good,” He purred out, “You know who I am, so there’s no need for introductions. Maybe you aren’t a complete imbecile.”

Tilting his head to study his prey, All Might reconsidered, “Although it is hard to believe you actually possess a brain, considering you tried to steal something of mine.”

Nodding his head toward your shaking, huddled form a few feet away, All Might’s face hardened. “That girl over there belongs to me, and you just tried to touch her. Now if you remember anything about me, you should know that I don’t share. Do you want to know what happens to people who try to take things that belong to me?”

Eyes darting back and forth, the thug frantically shook his head as much as he could while being held in All Might’s grip. “Pl-please… I-I… didn’t know!”

Ignoring the man’s pleas completely, all the previous traces of being dangerously coy with the thug were wiped away as All Might murderously intoned, “They die.”

With that, All Might began to squeeze the hand wrapped around the man’s throat even tighter. Garbled chokes escaped the man’s lips as with each passing second All Might added more and more force. Reveling in the sound, a sadistic, twisted grin made its way onto All Might’s face. If he was feeling generous, he could have just snapped the man’s neck and been done with it, but that would have been too easy. The bastard had to pay for what he did, and so All Might made sure to drag it, delighting in the way the man’s neck slowly began to crack in his grasp as the life drained from his eyes. Sickening sounds floated into the air, mixtures of bone breaking and strangled gasps as the man gagged on his own saliva. His hands flailed, desperately clawing at the limb wrapped around his neck in a futile attempt to break free. Much too soon for All Might’s liking though, the thug’s efforts slowed before stopping altogether, his hands falling lifelessly back down to his side.

Letting out a sneer, All Might finally released him from his grasp letting his body carelessly crumple to the ground with a revolting thud. “How pathetic, he didn’t even last 2 minutes.”

Taking one last glance at the body, he kicked it to the side before turning his attention toward the two lackeys trembling in the corner. Blinded by bloodlust, he stalked toward them, licking his lips in anticipation and clenching his hands together, imagining their necks were in between them.

All Might was almost upon them when a flash of movement captured the corner of his eye. Momentarily ignoring his prey,  he shifted his body slightly and caught sight of you, shivering in a seated position with your arms wrapped tightly around your legs while slowly rocking back and forth. Gooseflesh had broken out along your skin from the chilly night air, only agitated by the cold sweat that had broken out upon your brow from the night’s events. Stray hairs stuck to your skin as wide, fearful (e/c) eyes looked up to lock with his own, and instantly All Might felt his bloodlust melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need to go to you.

Spinning back around, he addressed the two lackeys quivering in the corner. He pointed a disgusted, raging scowl at the thugs before thundering his ultimatum. “You have exactly 5 seconds to get out of my sight. Otherwise, you’re gonna end up like your boss over there.” He stated, throwing a finger back over his shoulder in the direction of the corpse.

Leaning down, he pulled both of them up by the collar of their necks. “And if I ever catch you even looking at this girl, trust me when I say you won’t live to tell anyone about it. But, feel free to tell your buddies about what happened here tonight. It’ll be a good reminder to everyone out there about what happens when you try to take something that belongs to me. Remember boys, I. Don’t. Share. So spread the word that this girl’s mine.”

Then, without another word, All Might threw them towards the opening of the alley. Not needing to be told twice, they scrambled back, hightailing it out of there. Watching them go, a small smirk passed over his face at their show of naivety. He’d let them go, for now. He had more important matters to take care of. But come tomorrow, they’d be dead. All Might was nothing if not a man of his word, and so they, too, would have to pay with their lives for trying to steal from him. He could see it now. The look of shock their faces would portray at his appearance tomorrow. The way it would morph into a look of fear as he approached them. And finally, the acceptance that would fill their eyes as he squeezed the life out of them, realizing, at last, that he had never intended to let them truly escape. Yes, tomorrow would be a very good day indeed.

Turning around, he started to approach you, making slow, small steps when your face darted up in fear, like a deer caught in headlights. Seeing that it was just him, All Might watched your tense body start to relax as you buried your head back into your legs. Reaching you, he squatted down to be eye level with you, hesitantly reaching an arm out to place it on your shoulder. Now that you were no longer in danger, All Might felt unsure of what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort someone in distress as he was much more used to being the one causing the distress. Finally, he decided to settle for asking basic yet somewhat obvious questions.

“Are you alright?” He gruffed out.

Hearing no reply, a worry that he tried to push away started to creep into his mind the longer you stayed silent. Were you hurt? Had he gotten there too late? Had they touched you? He started to become lost in thoughts until a sudden force jolted him out of it. Looking down, he saw that you had attached yourself to his body, clutching at him like your life depended on it. He debated with himself for a few moments before choosing to reciprocate the gesture, wrapping his large arms around you and encasing you within his body heat. At his touch, your body started to shake with silent sobs, tears from your eyes beginning to wet his shirt. You stayed that way for a long time, bodies holding onto each other as you tried to process the events from the night. All Might didn’t say anything, choosing to offer you support quietly for as long as you needed it. Eventually though, your cries subsided and your frame slumped against him, exhausted from everything that had happened.

Eyes heavy, you were vaguely aware of your body shifting as All Might stood up. Lifting you with ease, he placed you into both of his arms, saying “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Slowly being lulled to sleep by the rhythm of his footsteps, a feeling of warmth and safeness washed over you. Right before you drifted to sleep, an inkling of a smile crossed over your face as you thought of the irony that you felt completely protected in the arms of the number one villain. With him, you knew that he would always be there to keep you safe. Although he was a villain, if tonight had proven anything, it seemed that you were an exception to the rule.

[zevlors-tail]

I don't wanna scared you or something even worse *breathe deeply and with the voice whispering* What do you think having a Incubus!Villain Deku?

Do you know I wrote all of this on mobile? In my car? On a 15% battery? Welp-

TW: Incubus!Izuku, Demon!Izuku, unprotected sex, mind fuckery?, tail play?, idk what to tag this lmao, biting, oral (reader receiving), fem!reader.

It starts with dreams. Bits and pieces here and there, fragments of memories that plague you randomly throughout the day. You're doing something completely mundane and suddenly there's a flash of something you can't quite recall...mostly in shades of green and black. It only takes a few times to fully realize what your dreams are about and remember them, though, and that's when the real problem starts.

That's when you become acutely aware of the incubus that's been taking up residence in your home (and subsequently, your mind) lately. He tells you his name; Izuku, was it? But please, call him Deku, as that's his preferred demon name and the name you should use to call upon him. He corners you the first time he becomes visible, makes you feel small and submissive, but in a lighthearted way so that you think you're still in control of the situation.

You're not.

He's so much larger than you; he towers over you easily as he traces an index finger over your bare arm and gives you a look of amusement. "Did those dreams feel nice?" But he doesn't need you to answer, because he already knows they did from the way you cried out and made a mess of yourself for him in your sleep. Many a nights you had woken yourself up mid-orgasm before having to strip your sheets from your sweat-soaked bed to wash them.

You can't put your finger on it, but there's something about his velvety tone and his darkened eyes that make him so persuasive while he offers to give you something even better, something physical that you can feel even when you're awake.

"I won't hurt you," he promises, and you can't help but believe him. It's easy to lean into his touch, to let him tilt your chin up, to meet his gaze and hold it while he silently asks permission.

You make the mistake of giving it to him.

Slowly he leans in, lips parted just as yours are, but he doesn't close the distance right away. He teases, smirks down at you from above and watches as your pupils slowly dilate with lust. You don't feel the prick on your back from his tail, never notice that something other than your own blood is now pumping through your veins. And while he can't play with you until he's earned a proper invitation, he can...help speed up the process.

If you had any doubts before, the aphrodisiac coursing it's way through your bloodstream is quickly changing that. You're overtaken by need like you've never felt before, and suddenly it's not a matter worth discussing anymore; you need to have him right now. You reach for him, pull him close as you meet his lips with yours, eagerly reveling in his immediate touches and caresses that he seems to offer so freely. He smiles into the kiss deviously, knowing what's just been done is essentially all he needs to corrupt you, to make you his, to use you as he pleases.

And he does.

He wastes no time in ridding clothes, his tail crawling up one of your legs and winding round and round until it reaches cloth and pulls. In one smooth effort your pants have been ripped to shreds, and now you're stuck in place; you're not going anywhere as he curls his tail around your midriff and pulls you to the floor. He makes quick work of his own clothes and your top, and then he moves on to the main attraction of tonight: you.

As he pins you to the ground and holds you there, you finally get a proper look at him, and boy is he a sight to see. Two small horns protruding from his head, his green mop of hair a wild curly mess, and canines so sharp that you're willing to bet he could eat you with those. And god, do you want him to. Your eyes trail down to his exposed chest, and you can see that he's clearly sculpted by whatever deities may exist. His muscles ripple under his skin, abs solid but still soft to the touch when you bring a hand up to feel. Below that, there's a very pronounced V-line, and a happy trail of forest green to match his messy mop up top.

Who knew demons could have happy trails?

You go to take your hand away, unsure if it's alright to touch him so freely. But he stops you, takes your hand in his and presses it back to his warm chest, slides it up to his collarbone before bringing it back down to rest over the part of him you'd been avoiding looking at up until now.

"It's quite alright if you touch me," he tells you, and again you find yourself entranced by his words. "I'd prefer it if you did, actually. Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to be in control? You humans are so interesting," he purrs. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. But do say it out loud, otherwise it won't be any fun!"

There's a pause in which he presses your hand lower, and your eyes widen nearly twice as wide as you feel him pulsing in your hand. Already leaking and throbbing and still somewhat soft, he's easily much thicker than anyone you've ever had. Your breath hitches as he helps you to give him a few pumps, and you're practically shaking in apprehension to be filled up.

"Or, perhaps..." he starts again, "you want me to act on your fantasies without having to be asked to do so? After all, I've been inside that pretty little head of yours. I know every single one of your naughty desires you have, Y/N... There's no point in hiding them from me."

"I want-" You try to tell him, but you just seem so lost on your own words. You don't just want one thing, or two, or even several. You want all of it. All of him, and all of his cock. You can't tear your eyes away from him; he's alluring, addictive, intoxicating...

"I want you," you manage to breathe out, and he acts on it immediately.

"You want me?" he taunts, his free hand reaching down to easily curl two fingers into your dripping cunt. "You want me to play with you, is that it?"

He's merciless, his thumb rubbing circles onto your clit before making a come-hither motion against that soft spot deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" You can't help but cry out, slick already gushing from you no thanks to the aphrodisiac. "More!" you find yourself asking. "Please, more! Need-!"

And he gives you more. He continues to finger you through your orgasm, spreads you open only to lick it all up with his tongue before curling it deep inside of you and sending you to another high. The more you give him the harder he seems to work at you, but you're too blissed out to put two and two together. He is an incubus, after all. He feeds on pleasure.

After you think you can't take it anymore, after you've been pushed over the edge and fucked stupid on his monstrous cock too many times to count, you wonder when it will end. You've been at this hours, and you should feel tired. You should be exhausted and worn out, ready to crawl in bed and pass out into a deep sleep. But despite how much you've cum, Deku still hasn't, and instead of feeling worn out, you feel as needy as ever, unsatisfied in the sense that you still want more.

"Deku," you plead with him, "please! Please, please, give- ahah! Ahhhnnngh-! Need more!"

"Oh, dearest, I'm only getting started."

Sometime after, hours into your eventful evening, Izuku finally takes mercy on your poor soul and decides enough is enough...for tonight.

"You gave me your half of the contract, so it's only fair I give you mine, isn't it?"

Somewhere in the middle of your eyes rolling back and your body convulsing under him, you wonder what he's talking about. But you can't retain the thought, and it fades away as quickly as it came. You don't have time to think about that anyway while he finally loses himself, cock throbbing against your fluttering walls as he fills you to the brim with his scorching demon seed and punctures the skin above your collarbone with his canines.

You feel absolutely delirious with pleasure, wave after wave of bliss consuming you until you're sure you're going to pass out. You squirm excessively under him, hands gripping into his hair and pulling, fingers trembling as you drink in your highs together. Somehow you feel tainted and whole at the same time, impossibly hot, completely lost in the feeling he's giving you.

And then you feel it, something searing hot burning through you, something incredibly potent and yet not tangible acting as a tether to bind the two of you together invisibly.

"You're mine. You're all mine!"

You find yourself unable to bend from his will, your body acting exactly how he wants it to and your mind giving in to his commands.

There's no going back now.

Maybe you should learn to read the fine print before signing contracts with demons so easily.

[tiffdawg]

Your Heart is My Home | A Javier Peña x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @javier-pena​

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.4k

Rated: E  | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, masturbation (f), use of a vibrator/sex toy, breathplay, dirty talk, aftercare. Rough sex with a soft, tired Javi. 18+ only.

A/N: Look, I don’t even like Valentine’s day, but I love all of you so here’s a little sweet treat. Everyone say thank you to the lovely anon who requested HCs for Javi (consensually) walking in on you. Safe to say, this one got away from me. 

Read on AO3 | My Masterlist

... . ...

Your Heart is My Home

It wasn’t his original plan, but as Javier left the embassy well past midnight — again — he steered right out of the employee parking lot toward your place instead of heading to his own empty apartment. He was dead on his feet but after the day he had, he realized that all he wanted to do was crawl into bed next to you. Just as he had practically every night since he met you. In the past he might’ve sought out a bottle or a brothel, but lately the warmth and comfort of your embrace was all he craved.

With the spare key to your apartment that hung next to his own, Javier opened your front door as quietly as possible, mindful of the old hinges that creaked past a certain point. He kept telling himself he’d fix that for you on his next day off from work, but those were few and far in between. With light footsteps he toed off his boots and nestled them next to yours on the shoe rack and his leather jacket found its usual hook just above yours. The more he thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent the night at his own apartment. Like his things, Javier seemed to have a home there with you.

He didn’t even startle at that thought. It was just… true. 

Instead, the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate the more the notion settled within him. As he exhaled the stress of another bad day, the sweet, vanilla scent of home replaced it with something much more comforting.

Until a quiet buzzing noise drifted to his ears and disrupted the peace. “What the fuck is that?” he mumbled to himself, brows pinching in confusion. Socked feet padded across the old hardwood floors as he moved toward your bedroom. Only then did he notice the dim light seeping out from under the door. He pushed it open gently on the off chance you were asleep.

Javier’s eyes shot open when he realized you were wide awake.

With the silky sheets thrown back, you were a sight to behold in the flickering candlelight, sprawled out on the bed wearing nothing but lacy pink lingerie dotted with red hearts. Mind overcome by a lusty haze, he moved to the edge of the bed without thinking and gazed down at your angelic form. His mouth went dry when he noticed your panties pushed to the side as you fucked yourself with a vibrator. It was small and discreet and got the job done when you needed it. He’d seen it before but swore you wouldn’t need it as long as he was around.

“You’re finally home,” you said, acknowledging his presence. 

“You should be asleep.” He’d aimed for chastising, but his amusement was evident in his tone.

“I tried to wait for you,” you cooed, staring up at him with glossy, half-lidded eyes. “I’ve hardly seen you all week and I needed you.”

“My poor baby,” he consoled, squeezing your thigh with a firm hand. “Was this pussy aching for me?” With pouty lips you nodded. He smirked when he realized you were still pumping the vibrator into you. In that moment, you were a desperate, unashamed little thing and he was the luckiest man alive. “Is that little toy satisfying you, cariño?”

You whined as you shook your head against the pillow, but he was already unbuckling his belt, the leather strap snapping as he pulled it out of the loops. “You need something bigger?”

“Yes, Javi,” you simpered.

“You need my big dick to stretch out that tight little cunt?” he teased, suddenly feeling much more awake and inclined to play with you than he was when he’d first walked through the front door. You moaned as your back arched off the bed. He stripped off his pants, leaving him in just a half-buttoned up pink shirt. He knelt on the bed in between your parted thighs and leaned over you, wrapping a hand around your neck. His fingers pressed against your pulse points in warning. “Answer me.”

“Oh, fuck yes!” you wailed. Your own hand circled his wrist, holding him in place. He squeezed and felt your ragged breath against his palm. His other hand slipped between your bodies to steal the toy from you. Without so much as a glance, he increased the speed as he expertly pumped it into you and rubbed that sweet spot he loved so much. The one that brought tears to your eyes and made a mess of the bedsheets.

Needing to taste you, he trailed hot, wet kisses across your flushed skin, slightly salty and shimmering, until he reached your breasts. Your tits looked so pretty covered in pink lace with the darker skin of your nipples just visible, teasing him. Mouthing you through the flimsy material, he sucked and bit at each one until both pebbled beneath the fabric. He reveled in the way your body responded to him. Only him.

As he took one nipple between his teeth and fucked you with the vibrator even faster, you cried out. “Right there, don’t stop!”

That was his cue to remove the vibrator from your core.

You groaned in frustration but he grinned when he saw your cum already dripping out of your fluttering hole. At least in the time he’d been there, you hadn’t even orgasmed yet. But his filthy girl was close for him. “What the hell?” you gasped. Your pleading eyes searched his for an answer he gave readily.

“You’re only allowed to cum on my cock tonight, cariño.”

You beamed at him, and his chest filled with a familiar mix of pride and admiration. “Then give it to me, Javi.” 

With a devilish smirk, he turned the speed up again before he wrapped your hand around the toy and placed the rounded head right on your clit. You hummed pleasantly at the vibrations. “Hold that right there for me. Can you do that?” You nodded eagerly. “Good girl,” Javier praised with a slap to the inside of your thigh and he parted your legs further.

Settling between your thighs, he gathered up your slick and stroked his hard cock to its full length, nearly there just from watching you. Grasping his base, he entered you in one slow push. He usually had to spend more time working you open, but you’d made sure you were wet and ready for him that night. He stilled when he was fully seated inside you and tried to steady his breathing. He could feel the vibrations from your toy and the new sensation threatened to overwhelm him.

“Oh, god,” you panted. Your hand slipped beneath his open collar and your nails dug into his shoulder and you held on for dear life. Javier hadn’t even started moving inside you yet. “It’s too much. I’m gonna cum.”

“Already?” he teased.

“Shut up,” you laughed even as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I feel so full. Fuck– I’m right there.”

“I can tell.” His voice strained as he struggled to hold on to his composure. The feel of your pussy pulsing around him as you neared your orgasm was nearly enough to send him over the edge. “Hold on, baby. Let me take care of you”

Without warning, he pulled out and snapped his hips against yours. Again. And again. You made breathy little moans and yelps that matched his every forward thrust that spurred him on. It wouldn’t take either of you long before you fell apart for the other. 

Javier glanced up at the sound of a sharp rapt on your shared wall. He cursed to himself when he realized it was your damn neighbors again. He was well aware of how they felt about him.

Annoyed, he changed his angle so every time his hips snapped against yours, the metal headboard hit the wall. You covered your mouth as you let out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle. But you grinned for him when you said, “fuck me harder, mi corazón.”

He covered your body with his, caging you in, and pounded into you. You cried out, a mix of his name, every curse you knew, and a string of desperate oh gods tied together with mewls of pleasure. It drove him fucking wild. Suddenly the only word you seemed to know was yes, yes, yes and he felt you clench down around him, felt you soaking his cock as you neared your peak.

You came hard and loud, reduced to a writhing mess beneath him and he smiled as he fucked you through it all. Javier was never far behind you. He pulled out at the last minute, groaning as he painted you with him cum. Coating your soft stomach and pretty tits with hot, sticky white ropes.

He was a sweaty mess, shirt sticking to his skin, hair damp on his forehead. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Could barely hold himself upright. But he knew you. He knew you didn’t want to wake up in a few hours like this. He’d promised — promised you and himself — that he’d always take care of you. So, he drug himself out of bed.

“Cariño, stay with me.” Your eyes blinked open and he helped you up and into the bathroom on shaky legs. He switched on the shower, testing the temperature of the water with an open palm before turning his attention to you.

“This is new.” Javier observed as he flicked open the hook holding your pink bra in place. He guided the straps down your arms and grimaced when he saw the mess he made on the pretty fabric. He tossed it aside with your panties to wash later.

“I brought it just for you, mi corazón. I wanted tonight to be special.” Confused, he tried to catch your eye, but you were half asleep on your feet. “And it was,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his cheek and ran your fingers through his damp hair. “It’s always special with you.”

With a quick peck on his lips, you hopped into the shower. After switching the sheets, Javier threw his shirt into the basket as well to worry about in the morning. He figured he’d start the laundry as soon as he woke up and have it in the dryer before he left for work. It’d make your life a little easier. 

He joined you in the shower, carefully washing both of your bodies with your sudsy lavender soap. Washing away the aftermath of your evening. Washing away the stress of his day. He was sated and relaxed and... as he looked at the dreamy smile on your face, he was happy. So fucking happy it felt unreal. He’d never expected to come home and find you like that, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Somehow, you were always just what he needed.

After toweling you off and earning a lilting laugh from you, Javier offered you the red satin nightgown that hung off a knob on your dresser drawer. The thought crossed his mind that if he’d left work at a decent hour, he would’ve come home to you wearing the slip of fabric for him. Like a perfect present to unwrap after a long day. Pushing down his frustration at himself, he led you back to bed with your hand in his, wanting to hold you through the night with the time he did have to give you. He blew out the candles you'd lit before slipping between the fresh sheets and pulling you toward him.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” You looked awake and alert now, eyes boring into his. He shifted so the two of you laid side by side facing each other. “What do you think about moving in here?” You let the question settle between you before you continued, ready to state your case. “You spend most nights here already and I­– I think we could make a home together.”

“I like that idea.” He twined your hands before kissing the tops of your knuckles, smiling against your skin. “Not sure your neighbors will.”

The two of you touched foreheads as you laughed until your shared mirth turned into a collective sigh. He felt the same relief you exhaled. Logically, living together made sense. But there was also something inside his chest, something well beyond logic, that had wanted that all along. Throwing an arm across his middle, you snuggled closer, seeking his warmth like you always did.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi,” you murmured into his neck just as you drifted off.

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head at himself. He’d completely overlooked the date, but you weren’t angry with him. That wasn’t how your relationship worked. He doubted you cared about the holiday any more than he did. And you always understood that his life revolved around his job. You accepted that. Accepted him. He’d never understand how he got so lucky.

“I love you,” he whispered against your temple, testing out those three little words he’d felt for so long for the first time.

“I know,” you sighed. “I love you too. Now rest, mi corazón. You earned it.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73​ @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses @mxsamwilson @themilkface @mylifeliterally @mskitty79 @rosiefridayrogersunday @perropascal @giselatropicana @roxypeanut @sarahjkl82-blog @kylerr @aerolanya @artsymaddie @linkpk88​ @antisocialshipper @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @toastytaurus @321-lets-go @stackedpaperbacks @kesskirata @gredandfeorgesgirl @lou-la-lou @1800-fight-me @helga1031 @ktmadden86 @lesbianlena @sxndythinkstoomuch @mtjoi @pedropascaldice @swimmingsloths @lovelyasfcuk​ @technicallykawaiisoul​ 

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[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Fighting For the Right Side

Warnings: Nightmare [Depiction of child death] ; Mention of death ; Allusion to mass murder and bombs

Words: 3.3k

You were quick to settle into your position in Pogtopia. Every day was primarily spent with Techno, but it was relaxing. You farmed, took trips to the bastion you two had met at, he protected you in fortresses, you two even went mining together. He was a comfortable constant in your world. Even when the voices got to be too much, you were with him. But that might have been what caused it all in the first place.

Settling into the small alcove Tommy said you could use, you decided that you could take this brief moment of quiet to read. You felt safe in the ravine, so much so that you had shed your armor back in Techno’s hidden stronghold.

Once sat in front of the fire, you tossed another small log in the flames. You'd have to go find more wood tomorrow but this was enough; The fire burning was bright enough you didn't need to light a torch and waste extra materials they might need, and the air warm enough you only needed a small throw blanket for added comfort to cuddle during the parts of your book the suspense physically got to you.

And so you got comfortable. You relaxed against the wall and you opened your book. Page 47.

Suddenly, sounds bombarded the child - a mad rustling, and then, twit twit, echoing over and over. They were familiar sounds, not particularly frightening, but unplaceable. A heartbeat was louder than anything else and the small nine year old could only wish that the sound were quieter. That everything was quieter.

The maze was an overgrown thing. Something so large that anyone who encountered it knew they could never escape. The shadows kept moving though; rushing faster than legs could ever hope to outrun. Faster and faster they crawled like vines all around. And soon the child was engulfed. Darkness spread to every limb, smothering wails that spilled from parted lips. There were no cries for help or alerts to any who would listen. Soon, nothing remained.

The crash had startled you awake. Your nightmare releasing it’s hold from you at the sudden sound. You relaxed quickly, however, seeing Wilbur in a heap next to the stairs. He must have fallen again. You pressed your lips together, remembering Techno’s words. “We used to have railin’s but Wilbur, he just really enjoyed fallin’ to his death.”

The brunet slowly got up and pat himself off before looking up at you and smiling. A smile like that could have made sunflowers turn to revel in its glow.

“Oh, hey. Sorry for waking you.” His voice was soft, probably to not wake anyone else if they hadn’t already been awoken already.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn’t a very good dream.” He nodded at you in understanding. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

The teasing smile on your lips grew bigger when his smile soured and he scoffed, grumbling to himself about how every mission was technically a secret one.

Yours fell away when he started walking off, his softness darkened with the thought of what happened during his outing. You hesitated. You didn’t want to wake Techno. You two were only just growing closer and you didn’t know how the hybrid reacted to missing out on the little sleep he was actually getting. But you didn’t want to be with your thoughts. Despite not being even remotely close to the man now leaving you behind, you reached out for him. “Hey Wilbur?” He turned to look at you. "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone after that."

You watched his brown eyes brighten and a boyish grin overtake his lips. It reminded you of Tommy’s. You briefly wondered if his mood always swung this dramatically. “I'll stay for as long as you need." He made his way to sit with you and you added another log to the fire, sitting up so the rock digging into your spine shifted away. Wilbur sat across from you, his presence immediately making you relax.

"So, Mr. Leader," You taunted once more, "What was the secret mission?"

In the coming days, you and Wilbur spent more time together. He’d tell you the most random facts about himself whilst you two worked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay it any mind.

-

"Hey [y/n], guess what?"

"Hm?"

"I was born on September 14th. That makes me a Virgo."

-

"Did you know I can play guitar?"

"I think everyone knows that about you, Wilbur. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you might wanna hear me play you something sometime..."

-

"You know, I was once married to this wonderful salmon named Sally. You remind me of her sometimes."

-

“With you on our side, [y/n], I know that we’re going to win L’manburg back. And I promise you’ll have a spot in my cabinet.”

It was decided. Techno and yourself would attend the festival while Wilbur and Tommy hung back and watched from a safe distance. You were nervous. A bad feeling grew like a stone in your stomach as they all prepared.

"Hey [y/n], come here a moment, will you?" Sighing as you stood from the chest you were going through, you felt your back pop in a few different places and you hissed before walking to where Wilbur stood. It was silent in the ravine, everyone just as anxious about the festival as you.

"Yeah?" You asked, resting a hand on his arm as you peeked around him at the paper on the table. It was a map of Manburg with “x”s scattered across it.

"Are you prepared?" He glanced down at you, watching the crease in your eyebrows deepen as you examined the plans.

"Mhm." You hummed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were so warm when they looked at you, just like Techno’s. Even if he didn’t have a smile, they were always filled with that same warmth that made you feel important. The two were more like brothers than either cared to admit. "Why?"

"Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret from Tommy and Techno?" Everything around you felt like it had stilled. Everything waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stone suddenly felt heavier.

"What is it?” He continued looking at you and you found it almost hard to breathe. "Wilbur?"

His hand reached to cup your cheek gently. They weren’t calloused like Technoblade’s. They were the hands of a poet, of a musician, of someone whose hand reached for the quill not the sword. They smelled of gunpowder. Your heart felt like it was in your throat when you realized what all of those “x”s were.

“You would risk letting all those people die just so you could have L’manburg back? Why?”

His voice came out hoarse when he finally brought himself to speak. "Because if I can’t have it, no one can, [y/n]. I'm so sorry."

Your lips trembled. You thought of all of the innocent people who would never see it coming. You thought of Tommy and Techno, getting ready in another part of the ravine who wouldn’t know until it was too late. You thought of the man before you who probably felt like he was doomed to keep repeating this action again and again. When had blowing something up ever worked in his past lifetimes? He had to know that this was crazy, right?

Wilbur continued to stare at your frightened face for a moment. He looked so serious. His dark eyebrows drawn together and lips turned just the slightest bit downward. But his eyes? The warmth that filled them seemed to be slowly draining and being replaced with dark melancholy. You hated that look on him and drew your hand up to hold the one cradling your face. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. There is always another way.”

Wilbur stepped forward, pulling you into an embrace that smelled of cedar and leather. His hand left your cheek to instead hold your head to his chest. You didn’t like this hug. This hug felt like he knew things were going to go horribly wrong and he didn’t want you to see the aftermath of it. “If there were one, we would have found it by now.”

Your hands gripped the soft material of his trench coat and you pressed your face into his sweater. You didn’t want this. You were happy to help where you could, but you didn’t want to be a part of the destruction of a nation. You just wanted to help your friends overthrow a tyrant. “I wish I were as brave as you, Wil.”

The soft huff of a chuckle reverberated through his chest as he squeezed you tighter. “Did you know that that’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name?” His voice was uplifted at the end. He almost sounded happy by the thought. It was squashed when he sighed, pressing his face into your hair. “I wouldn’t call it bravery, though. Still, I promise that we’ll all end up on the other side of this together.”

You tilted your head up a bit to look at him. “Where else would we be?”

He didn’t answer you, just held you tighter.

If there was one thing Wilbur couldn’t describe himself as, it was good.

In previous lives, he had been a cruel, sadistic god. He forced hundreds of people to compete for his entertainment. They were rats, moles, ants, sometimes even just humans while he played the part of omnipotent creator. He had been a king sometimes, or a hero. And time and time again, he was just an older brother. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to save the people who loved him the most. He couldn’t protect the ones who looked up to him; be it because he found sick joy in their deaths, or because he wasn’t strong enough.

He never felt strong enough.

When Technoblade had told him of the strange person whom he had met in the nether, he almost brushed it off. There was no way he had met someone whom he hadn’t shared at least one lifetime with. There was no such thing as new players who weren’t just NPCs.

However, when you stepped into the ravine, inventory absolutely filled with different items that you just willingly handed over to the pink haired hybrid with a smile, he was utterly floored. The curve of your lips, the tone of your voice, even the look in your eyes were all new to him. He had never once met you.

He approached the two of you with hurried steps, wondering what kind of trick you were playing, only to freeze when you turned your gaze to him. He could hear his own blood rushing through his ears and, for a moment, he wondered if you could hear it too. The expression you wore unnerved him. It was as if you had seen every lifetime, every possibility. Yet you still had the nerve to smile shyly at him. When you waved at him in silent greeting, he knew Technoblade had been completely correct in his assumption. Your lives were missing from your wrist.

You were an investment.

But no one made him feel as powerless as you did.

You were able to try things over and over and over again. You weren’t held back by memories of mistakes or fears. The tiny flits of trauma they all seemed to feel were just… absent in your being. You were unapologetic about running errands in Manburg and doing reconnaissance whilst you were out, seemingly unafraid during the recounts you had given him of meeting Schlatt and Tubbo for the first time.

And this seemed to hold true in your interactions with Tubbo. He didn’t treat you with the same feral energy he shared with Tommy or the attitude he put forth for his leaders. When you weren’t spending almost every waking moment with Technoblade, the soft murmur of your soft voices being heard through the stone walls that led to the farm, you were interacting with one or both of the teenagers that helped fuel the rebellion. Tubbo told you about new ideas he had, or described to you his day, or even just explained to you things that even he himself knew he would have trouble understanding, despite Tubbo being the one to explain them. Wilbur noticed that you just did that. You listened patiently while someone talked, despite the knowing look in your eye that made him feel like you already knew exactly what they were about to say. And this seemed to carry over into your relationship with Tommy.

You paid rapt attention to the blond, reminding him that even if he was still technically a child, that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be listened to. The oddest part he found, though? Tommy actually returned the favor in kind. It wasn’t so much that you would go on long-winded tangents and he’d be forced to sit there and listen. It was that when you asked or told the sixteen year old to do something, he did it without too much of a fight. That’s not to say he wouldn’t talk back to you, he did almost every time, but it was the point that he would still do what you said without much hesitation. And every single time, Wilbur felt the sharpest stab of envy.

He had questioned Tommy after the first couple instances of it happening before him. He had cornered the very person who had been his younger brother in many previous lives against the cold stone wall on one of the walk ways while you and Techno were out gathering things from the nether and demanded to know why. However, the young soldier just shrugged in response. “They just usually have very fun ideas.” He had stared long and hard at the blonde, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty shirt. He made a mental note to ask if you’d be willing to do laundry for them when you next went to Manburg. “That and…”

“And?” Wilbur had immediately prompted, knowing the time he had to question the younger was running short.

“They just have that tone of voice. And something makes me feel like I should listen when they tell me to do something.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to berate him. “Sometimes it feels like they know way more than they should. Like they already know what’s going to happen.”

The brunet’s words died on his tongue.

They all felt like that.

But if you knew so much, why did you never talk about any of your past lives like the rest of them did? If you knew what was going to happen, why were you so patient and let them make mistake after mistake?

The thought sat bitterly at the forefront of his mind as he pat himself off, having fallen off the side of the walkway yet again. He almost regretted removing the child-proofing, but he was an adult, and he didn’t need them, and he certainly wasn’t going to recant his insistence that they didn’t need them. He turned when he heard shifting and saw you slumped against the side of the ravine.

In the dim lighting, you looked different. You were cuddled under a thin blanket, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a pout that reminded him of a child. He must have awoken you. You looked rather cute like this, though.

He smiled at you despite himself. He was still a little hesitant about being around you. He didn’t need help in his daily activities like Technoblade, he didn’t need a guiding hand like Tommy, and he felt plenty listened to daily, unlike Tubbo.

But somehow, he didn’t feel as loved as you were.

“Oh hey, sorry for waking you.” The words had slipped from his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Now he’d be forced to converse with you. He watched your eyes look away from him, even in the dim light.

"It wasn’t a very good dream.” You didn’t have good dreams? What was there to have a nightmare of? He tucked that piece of information away for later, your eyes were back on him. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”

His mood immediately dropped, especially when he saw the mocking grin that planted itself on your face. It was as if this were a game to you. “Every mission we pursue is a secret one, you of all people should know that.”

The grin just grew and he felt his chest tighten. How could you act so lax when you seemed to know exactly what happened when he was out there? He turned to walk back to his desk to write about the events that had transpired and quell his anger. He wasn’t truly upset with you, he knew that, and he didn’t want to take that out on the one person that seemed to be holding together his fellow usurpers, but you almost irritated him. His soft steps reverberated through their base.

“Hey Wilbur?”

His steps faltered. Despite your previous mood, you suddenly sounded so small. Afraid. He looked at you from over his shoulder and was surprised to see your extended hand.

“Can you stay for tonight? I don’t want to be alone after that.”

A new feeling sparked in him.

You wanted him? The one who had been so helpful for everyone else, to the cause, even to him on occasion, needed his help? How bad had your dream been? You looked so distraught, so powerless. He didn’t feel so weak when you looked at him like that.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” Your eyes held a warmth that could rival the fire in front of them. You moved to feed it and he sat across from you. You two weren’t close in either sense of emotionally or physically.

When had that changed?

He felt compelled to check up on you more after that night, use you as the investment that he believed you to be. No one in Manburg knew of your status, and he was planning on using it to their advantage.

Or, he had been.

But you made him feel safe about sharing things about himself. You were easy to talk to, easy to work around, easy to listen to. You would have been so easy to use.

Maybe that’s why he told you of the plan he and Tubbo had come up with.

You had found your way into much more than his good graces, just like the rest of them, and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. You were so susceptible to influence, he feared you’d start to see him as a villain. He knew what people would say about him. He wanted you to know his thoughts and feelings before you could be tainted by their remarks.

He had shared memories with you before. They all had. Words seemed to fall unencumbered whenever you were around and they were all victim to it. But you hadn’t judged any of them on the actions they had taken in their previous lives. You didn’t even judge them on the actions they had taken in this one. Despite this, he was still scared you’d be turned against him if he wasn’t the one to tell you.

“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

It was his turn to prove that they were fighting for the right side.

[zodiyack]

Voice

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD mention, I think that’s it

Words: 1,797

Summary: Tommy wants to spend the rest of his life with Y/n. A peculiar little thing about life is that you never stop learning, and Tommy learns a thing or two, letting Y/n learn more about him in return...or is it him who learns from her?

Note: I suck at words, Tommy Shelby edition. And I couldn’t come up with a summary or title for this so know that if they don’t make sense together (or the story at all)...I know.

Taglist: @matth1w��, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @stydia-4-ever​, @stuckysslag​, @marquelapage​, @i-love-superhero​, @psychkunox​, @tommyxshelby​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

The morning he met her was the first morning of many that his genuinely eyes opened since the war. Trauma had changed his life for what he thought was a permanent turn for the worst, but upon meeting her, it seemed that heaven was within his grasp once more. Impossible, he thought at first. Yet, later, when he put more thought into it, perhaps his redemption was actually there.

So the next time he saw her, he took a deep breath, reminded himself that he was no longer a boy, and went for it. Alas, his confidence joined him under the definition of cowardice in the very least second; she titled her head, innocent eyes sparkling with curiosity as she awaited whatever he had to say. But no words left his lips. She snatched them away with something even Thomas didn’t know of.

“Are you alright?” She asked, the concern in her voice lifting his spirits high as a warm feeling entered his body. It was the first time in what felt like centuries that a feeling as happy as that coursed through him.

It was also the first time that he was left without words. He tried, opening his mouth as if it were as easy as that to get the things he needed to say out, but he was still without anything but air.

“Sir?” Her brows furrowed. He couldn’t tell whether she was getting annoyed, scared, or just overly frightened for him, but he closed his mouth and reminded himself to breathe. Do not forget to breathe.

Was he sure he was a man? Or was he a boy once again? The same boy before the war who would blush and flirt teasingly, who held so much joy that his cheeks hurt.

And then it happened.

A smile grew upon his lips and he nodded.

A chuckle of relief left her mouth and she lifted her hand to her chest, resting it over her heart. “Oh thank fucking god- I admit, I was rather worried there. For both you and I!” She averted her eyes for a split second before redirecting them to his. “If you aren’t in any trouble... Is there anything I can help you with?”

The words were still lodged in his throat. So he did the only thing he could think of and sheepishly shook his head, turned, and left.

More interactions occurred between the two until one day, when she showed up at his office in search of a job. Lizzie knocked at his door, announcing that he had an appointment.

“Send ‘em in.” He replied lightly, not even lifting his eyes from the paper in front of him. Lizzie took a second, waiting for the moment that would never come- the one where he took a second away from work to actually look people in the face, but gave in with a sigh and closed the door.

“Go on in, hon.” She nodded her head to the door, returning to the typewriter and resuming her work.

It was silent aside from Lizzie’s typing. The click clacking of the keys, letters stamping the ink onto the paper, the quickness of her fingers at work. Y/n got lost in it momentarily before the noise suddenly ceased. Lizzie lifted her head, a brow quirked as she stared and waited for Y/n to enter Thomas’ office.

“Finally. Ahem, I suppose you’re here for...” Tommy started when the door squeaked open again but trailed off when he finally lifted his head. He couldn’t blink away the surprise, not this time. She truly caught him off guard.

And, apparently, him her.

“So he speaks? ...Ah- my apologies! Yes, Mr. Shelby, I’m here for a job...and, not on the topic of occupation, I would like to mention that you have a lovely voice. I think I’d enjoy hearing it more often.”

She definitely heard more of it.

Tommy gave her the job, and with it, a relationship. At first they were strictly boss and employee, but soon, it sparked into something more. Friendship. Good friendship. Close Friendship. 

Then ...Romance.

The day came where Tommy learned a lesson or two about love from someone he deeply admired and respected. Someone close, someone he loved but not in the way he did Y/n. Polly Gray payed her nephew a visit and taught him the thing he dreaded but knew he’d have to face eventually.

“If you want her to some day be your wife, then you have to let her in!” She’d taken a liking to Y/n as well. After all, she was technically Y/n’s boss as well, so she met the woman and didn’t hesitate in accepting their relationship. “She knows what you let her about this business, but one day she’ll either want to know more or find out on her own accord.”

Pol wasn’t just talking about business. She meant honesty in every way he could describe it. The depressive sides he hid from even his family, his brothers whom suffered the same aside, and so much more the world had yet to see. He could either hide it or show her, but one day it would come into the light.

It was true, and unpleasantly so. The downside to being part of the Peaky Blinders was one that came with life in general; Love wasn’t easy. If he wanted, he could just force Y/n out of the country, forget about her, and move on. She’d be safe and he’d be happy knowing she was, but deep down, he was too much of a coward to do something like that. Too afraid of what could happen to her, to her feelings, to his own...

So Tommy listened and grew a metaphorical pair. The night he planned on opening up to her, an uneasy feeling nagged at his gut. This was his one shot. His shot at being with the love of his life, creating a family and knowing what it feels like to be loved by someone, and not in a platonic way. He held onto the feeling she gave him and used it to power his courage.

“Are you alright, Tommy?” Her gentle hand that previously combed through his hair came into contact with his jaw. Not harsh, but gentle. Softly guiding his head, she forced his bright blue orbs to meet hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Her hand moved up slightly to caress his cheek. Thomas leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and reveling in the moment. He truly felt youth envelope him whenever he was with her. His demons faded as if they never existed in the first place every time her presence was with his.

Then, he lifted his hand to meet her wrist. He took the other with the same grip and opened his eyes, looking into her with the same admiration she had only mere minutes ago. “I know.”

“Then tell me...what’s bothering you?”

Tommy thought for a second, but just as the first time he tried to form words, his cowardliness came a ’nocking on his door. “It’s nothing, love. How ‘bout we sleep, yeah?”

Y/n hesitated but nodded, curling into his side and drifting off slowly. It took him a bit longer, but by midnight, the two were out cold. Of course, he never stayed asleep long. She didn’t know that, however. Tommy never let her stay the night until tonight, afraid of what she would think of his softer, more fearful side when he was too overwhelmed to hide it.

He awoke with a start, chest heaving heavily and breath so terribly uneven, one would think he were on the brink of death. That’s what he felt like. As though he were on the smallest ledge, seconds away from cracking down the part of which connected him too the land full of life and dropping him into the deepest pits of hell itself. Tommy’s nightmare woke Y/n too.

She was drowning in concern the second her eyes snapped open. “Tommy- Tommy!” He couldn’t help but panic, the PTSD too much for him, “Hey- hey, I’m here. Okay? It’s me.” she didn’t blame him. Instead, she gripped his wrists like he did hers and softly ushered him back into his calm state. Her whispers were reassuring and brought him back to reality, soothing his mind with powers similar to a siren’s.

“Y/n- I’m sorry-” He spoke hurriedly after she lit a candle- it provided them with enough light to see one another, not that the moon didn’t already do that enough.

“Don’t be. From the looks of it, this isn’t the first time this has happened.” She didn’t sound tired, not even a blink of sleep left in her eyes nor voice. “Tommy... Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tommy was a little taken aback by her lack of fear or other emotions like disgust, although he couldn’t quite think of a single reason as to why she’d feel that of all things, but answered her as honestly as he could. Just like Polly told him too. “I’m not sure... I was...cowardly. Though you’d be ashamed or something.”

She squinted at him, “Why on earth would I feel ashamed?”

A few seconds went by of his eyes darting around as he mentally searched for a possible answer and he came up blank. Thomas shrugged, “Fuck... I don’t even fucking know.”

They shared a chuckle, hushed but still very much real. Y/n caressed his cheeks again, tracing his beautifully sculpted features with gentle fingers.

“I love,” her eyes scanned his face lovingly, “every part of you. Whether you like a detail about you or not, I will love it with every fiber of my being. The good, the bad...the mildly confusing,” he chuckled with her, “I love it.”

Y/n pulled away from him and leaned him. She blew out the candle then readjusted her position under the sheets, squirming into Tommy’s side and resting her head atop his chest. It rose and fell with each breath he took, his torso lifting her head and dropping it as carefully as one would rock a baby.

“I’m here now, and I’m here to stay. We can either stay awake or, you can lie down with me and get through this shit together. Either way, I’m not letting you face anything else alone.”

“Y/n-” He was going to tell her that it was fine, shove another lie to hide his worries despite inevitable discovery.

“I mean it, Thomas. For as long as I live, you will never have to carry your struggles by your lonesome. So, in the morning, you can tell me what I’m gonna be helping you with.” She paused before cracking a smile. “After all, you know how much I love your voice.”

[sopewriters]

his.

pairing: god!yoongi x reader

genre: literally just Filth

words: 1.9k

warning(s): cheating, referenced bondage, mild exhibitionism, degradation, mild humiliation, D/s, toxic relationship (if any)

“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight for sore eyes?”

You shiver from the heat of his gaze as it lights on you, setting your skin aflame and making you arch your back with aching need. The cords that wrap snug around your wrists keep you in place – tethered to the headboard of your bed, exactly where he wants you.

You bite your lip to muffle the whimper that threatens to slip free at the sight of his lips curved into a pretty smirk. You can’t – no one should be allowed to hear you. Not when you’re doing something so shameful.

“What sort of thoughts are running through your pretty head, I wonder?” His eyes narrow, and the sight makes another rush of heat flood you – this time rushing in between your legs. You rub your thighs together, a little mewl slipping from your lips as you feel how slick they are.

How long has he kept you like this, helpless and vulnerable to his suggestions? Unable to keep yourself from listening to him detail exactly how pretty you would look straddling his cock, how your lips belong on it, worshipping it? You don’t know, and you don’t particularly care either – you just need.

Insatiable little slut.

You are, and that isn’t even the worst of it.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whisper, tugging at your bindings as you struggle to reach him, to touch. “Please, Yoongi, please—”

“So soon?” Yoongi’s perched at the end of your bed, resting his cheek on his knee as he watches you, watches how you reach for him so pleadingly, so beautifully with a flush high on your cheeks. Watches your lips tremble as they shape around his name. “I didn’t think you’d have it in you. You really have no shame, do you?”

All too suddenly, he’s straddling your hips, pinning your throat to the mattress as he leans in close – achingly close to kissing you, so close – only to brush his lips over the lobe of your ear. “Going so far as to beg for another man while your husband lies beside you. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

You tremble in his grasp as he increases the pressure around your neck and your pussy throbs, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as darkness steeps into your vision. You embrace it wholly, but it’s all too much, and he hasn’t even touched you – hasn’t even let you feel his cool fingers against your heated folds yet.

“Have you even heard a single word I’ve said?” Yoongi’s saying as you gasp desperately for air, unable to summon a response. “Ah, your poor husband – he isn’t even awake to see his wife getting fucked by the very man he hates.”

He smiles sharply, then, and it’s a terrible thing – cruel and sharp – but all it does is make you want. Perhaps, weeks ago, you would have felt nothing but guilt for betraying he who lies beside you, but you can’t think of anyone beyond the god pinning you down.

“Mm, he shouldn’t have drunk so much, don’t you agree?” Yoongi murmurs, smirking down at you; both of you know he wasn’t drunk. It was you who mixed sleeping powder into his tea, after all. “Maybe he could have stopped me from making you mine.”

You’re already his, though.

“Tonight, I’ll take you back with me,” he purrs, enchanting, compelling. Your heart races from the sheer anticipation, eyes growing wide at what he implies. “I’ll fuck you into the mattress and drag you to my chambers while you still drip with my cum. And your dear husband won’t know until it’s too late.”

It is too late.

His lips press against your throat as he murmurs, “You’re already my perfect little whore.”

“Yes,” you gasp desperately as he bites down into your skin so deep – deep enough to break your skin and stain his lips red – as he finally presses his fingers into you, two at once. He doesn’t need to prepare you any further – he’s acquainted himself with your sweet little pussy over the weeks, after all – but he loves the power he holds over you, reducing you to nothing more than a hole to fuck with just his fingers.

He rules over you; your body, your mind, your soul – and you can’t escape him. You don’t want to.

He doesn’t need to ask; you can read the look in his eyes, thighs parting for him easily as he fucks you on his fingers, makes you squirm and gasp and moan in your bed. As he tilts your head to the side so you can see your husband’s sleeping visage as Yoongi slides into you, stretching your tight little hole as it accepts him.

“Greedy, greedy,” he tuts as you can your hips upward to take in more of him, smiling amusedly at you as you crane your neck for a kiss. “You know the rules, slut.”

You do. It’s the only boundary he’s ever set – he can choke you as much as he wants, on his cock or otherwise. He can play with your pussy until it’s raw and sensitive, he can fuck your throat until it aches, can fuck you right beside your own husband—

But he won’t ever kiss you. Won’t ever let your lips touch his, for all you’ve been aching for it. His eyes glimmer at every attempt, lips curving almost sweetly at you as he denies you again and again. And, pathetic as it makes you feel, you’re still drawn to him, helpless.

But you revel in the helplessness. He makes you.

“Moan as loud as you need,” Yoongi chuckles mirthfully, eyes roving over your face and taking in the flickers of pleasure that flit across it. Your wrists sting from how hard you’ve been tugging at them, wanting to touch, needing it. “He deserves to hear how good I’m making you feel right now.”

You clench tighter around him at the thought, eyes tracing helplessly over your husband’s features as Yoongi folds your legs back to your chest, making you feel so small as he bears his weight on you, fucking into you with sharp thrusts.

Your vision blanks out when he rolls his hips just right and you can’t hold back your voice any longer, sobbing out in pleasure as he locks onto his target and makes sure to let his cock strike at that perfect angle. It makes your hands tremble with the effort not to scrabble against each other as you’re forced to stay still; forced to accept whatever he chooses to do with you.

And, terrible as it may be, it makes you burn.

“You know what to do,” he smirks down at you, pleased at how you tremble for him, sing for him. He loves how needy you get, the closer you are to your release – loves that he can command you to do what he wants with the crook of his fingers. And when you’re like this, drunk on lust, on the pleasure he bestows upon you, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

And that includes tearing your pride to tatters with your own two hands.

“Please,” you beg shamelessly, unable to stop yourself; you need it so bad. Already, you squeeze around the god’s – around your god’s – cock at the thought of being fucked full of his cum, feeling his warmth in you. “Please, fill me up – need to cum, please, f-fuck!”

Yoongi smiles down at you, and the sight is nearly enough to have you cum on the spot – and he knows it. He knows how much you love that look on his face; the tiniest curve of his lips that belies his true fondness, his possessiveness. You’re his, in every sense of the word, and he treats you as such.

“You can do better than that, surely.” He chides gently, and you shake your head desperately when he pauses in his thrusts, unable to help the whine that leaves your lips at how empty you feel without him inside you. “I’ve taught you what you need to say; my greedy little whore can speak her mind around me.”

You bite down on your lips to stop a sob from ripping out of your throat, though a single touch is enough to have the tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re shivering from the pleasure, the sparks dancing up your skin from how sensitive you are from having been subject to this god’s whims for so long.

“Please, please, please,” you sob and it’s worth it, seeing the pride on his face as he hears your voice breaking around the words – you’ve put that expression on his face – and it’s more than enough to bolster you on. “Please let me – a-ah – let me feel good p-please, want my pussy fucked nice and full of your cum Y-Yoongi, I—”

You break off, keening when he touches your clit properly, rolling it carelessly between his fingers as he rolls his hips against yours.

“Perfect,” he shivers in visible pleasure at the naked want on your face – it fuels him, makes him feel nothing short of victorious, high on the thrill of claiming his prize so openly. “What a perfect little cockslut – you’ve never felt satisfied with this bastard’s tiny dick anyway, but you have an actual cock to worship from now on, and you like that much better anyway.”

He isn’t asking you – he’s telling you how you feel – but the thought sends a bolt of heat through you and you nod shamelessly at what he says, hips canting upwards so his cock will nudge deeper into you with every thrust. He notices this, of course, but he says nothing – just permits with a curious tilt of his mouth.

“Never needed him anyway,” you say breathlessly, tugging harder at your restraints so you can lean into his touch, run your hands over his perfect form in turn, but you know he won’t let you go – not unless that’s what he wants. “Oh, y-your cock s’all I ever wanted, thank you, thank you, thank you—”

You don’t even realize why you’ve seized up, tears falling down your cheeks as you tremble all over, heated inside out – not until Yoongi chuckles and wipes curiously at the damp skin. “Moved to tears, are we? Did you really want to cum that bad, you little whore?”

And with growing shame you realize that he’s exactly right – you can feel it, the unnatural dampness between your legs – you’ve gone and squirted over him, over a deity. Yoongi can probably pick up on your fear, because his cock twitches inside you – and despite yourself you squeeze hard around him.

“M’sorry,” you slur weakly, wrists falling limp as he reaches out, touches your cheek with inquisitive fingers, runs them over your parted lips. Your head is spinning, and you’re so tired.

He hums noncommittally. “For being such a useless slut for cock? There’s no need to apologize for being yourself, so don’t preoccupy yourself with that.”

“For now—” He leans over and runs a hand over your forehead, through your hair. “Sleep.”

It’s laced with a firm command, and you’ve already lost. Before you can even think to respond, your eyes flutter, slowly falling shut. But, even as your vision blurs, you’re unable look away from him. You’re his, after all.

Your chest rises and falls slowly, a picture of tranquility. He appraises you, dark eyes glinting. Yes. You’ll take wonderfully to your new home. And if you don’t—

Well. 

A few more days spent in his bed will be enough to thoroughly convince you.

written by: midnight

[mieohmy]

All’s Well That Ends Well | Lee Sangyeon

PAIRING: lee sangyeon x fem reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, acquaintances-to-kinda-lovers? babysitter! au, slice of life! au

WC: 1.5k

SUMMARY: my sister asked me to babysit her daughter while she and her husband go out on a date night but it turns out her husband accidentally invited his brother to babysit too... (so i guess we’re stuck together now?)

um this took way to long to get out but I needed to write something for lovely leader sangyeon <3 + credits to original photo owners! ^^

❀

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. No-yes-I know!” 

You sigh, focusing on the road ahead of you to your sister’s house. 

Once you arrive, you’re greeted by your niece at the door, squealing and giggling. You smile, allowing her to lead you in.

A note’s been left on the table- you’re guessing your sister left all the instructions on it. 

I left food in the fridge for you to heat up. She usually eats dinner around 5-6. Whatever you do, do NOT let my daughter get into the ice cream, you know what happened last time. We’ll be back around 8! 

Don’t die.

-y/s/n 

You shrug, placing the note down. This should be easy enough. 

For a solid 30 minutes, your niece shows you her toy collection while you play along and try your best not to yawn even though you just got here. 

Then the doorbell rings.

You look over at your niece, confused. “Did your mom mention anyone coming over?”

She shrugs, too distracted with her cool toys and gadgets.

You get up, cautiously walking to the front door and peeking through it. 

Your eyes widen. The first thing that runs through your head is-

what’s his name again?

You know who he is..... you just don’t remember his name. Your brother-in-law’s brother. 

You’ve met him a couple of times-mainly at your sister's wedding. There were only ever a few polite words exchanged, but he was kind, you remember. And handsome too- but that wasn’t important.

There was never enough interaction to know each other well enough. And there was no reason to. 

He stares back at you, equally surprised. “Y/n?”

You freeze, cursing yourself for not remembering his name. Luckily, your niece pushes past you into his arms and he gladly accepts. 

“Uncle Sangyeon!!”

A light clicks on in your head. That’s right. 

You finally regain your senses. “W-what are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same?”

You gesture at your niece, still content to see the both of you together. “My sister-er- your sister-in-law asked me to babysit her today. Since she and your brother were going out for a date night.”

Sangyeon stands up. “Seriously?”

“Cause my brother asked me to do the same thing.” 

You stifle a laugh. “Wow. Uhhh, well, it’s fine. I’ll take care of her. You can go home.”

Your niece lets out a displeased noise and you both look down at her. “I don’t want uncle to leave! I don’t want anyone to leave!”

You’re about to lean down to explain everything, but sangyeon interrupts you. 

“Ah-actually, I canceled all my plans tonight so I don’t have anything to do. If you want, you can go home instead?”

Your mouth opens to deny the offer but once again, your niece beats you to it.

“No-! Why don’t the both of you just stay with me? We can all have fun together!”

Your eyes flick to his. He contemplates for a second before shrugging. “Sure, why not?”

You’re not sure how this is gonna go. An evening spent with someone you’ve barely met. Your.... -what do you even call him? 

You sigh, getting up to follow them inside. All’s well that ends well, right? 

❀

Sangyeon is an interesting person. You’re able to find that out while talking as your niece is distracted with whatever tv show you put on in the background. 

You also find out that he’s 1038% husband material. Yes, you just formally met him, but you can tell already how kind-hearted and polite he is. 

No wonder your niece loves him so much. 

You can’t help but smile whenever sangyeon talks so sweetly to her, brushing stray hairs out of her face or tickling her sides. 

It’s weird how easy you both get along. It makes you wonder why you never took the chance to get to know him before. 

He was your sister’s brother-in-law, after all. 

When that realization comes to you, you can’t help but frown for some reason. 

“Is there something wrong?” Sangyeon asks.

You immediately shake your head, taking a sip of your juice box- apparently, your sister had a lot of those. 

Your niece calls your name, and you turn too quickly, choking on the juice. Sangyeon immediately pats your back, asking if you’re okay until you stop coughing. 

You swiftly nod, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Suddenly, you feel your body get hot at his concerned expression and hand gently placed on your back. 

Why do you feel like this? 

You thank him, suddenly remembering your niece. She whines, complaining that she’s hungry, and you look at the time. 

5:42. That’s right.  

“Dinnertime?” You ask Sangyeon. He smiles. 

The three of you eat until your stomachs are full and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 

Sangyeon is too funny and kind for his own good. Sadly, you figure he already has a girlfriend-maybe even a wife- already. That revelation causes disappointment to settle in you. 

“Your significant other must be really lucky,” you remark.

Sangyeon swallows too quickly. He rasps, and you quickly get him a cup of water. “I’m so sorry, was it what I said?” You look at him anxiously.

He shakes his head. “No-uh- it’s not your fault at all.” He laughs. “I was just shocked you said that. I don’t have a significant other. That’s why.”

You blink, feeling embarrassment rush throughout your body. “Oh-Oh my god, I’m sorry.” 

He grins, shining his pearly smile that only makes you feel more things. “Don’t worry about it. Just haven’t found the right one yet, you know?”

You nod sheepishly. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t either.”

You both suddenly look away from each other, bashful. 

Your niece cuts through the tension. “Why are you guys smiling like that?”

You bite your lip. “Nothing-! Just eat your food,” you direct her. 

And before you know it, the sound of the garage opening alerts you. 

You were about to fall asleep, having put on a movie for the three of you to watch as sangyeon stares at the sleepy look on your face, endeared. 

Your niece perks up, already running to the door to greet her parents. 

You jump up, suddenly awake and ready to interrogate your sister on the whole babysitting incident. 

Your sister’s voice filters through the house, she and her husband walk in to find you and Sangyeon sitting at the table, staring at them expectantly. 

Y/s/n raises her eyebrows. “Sangyeon? What are you doing here?” she asks, right as your confused brother-in-law calls your name questioningly. 

You and sangyeon share a look. “You told me I was babysitting your daughter today, but dear sangyeon over here comes soon after saying the exact same thing.”

Your sister frowns, turning to her husband. “I thought I told you that y/n could babysit!”

He shakes his head. “No, I thought you said y/n couldn’t make it so I asked my brother to come..”

Your sister turns back to you, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m so sorry guys. I hope I didn’t waste your time, and you still had fun?”

You look over at sangyeon, and he has that darn charming smile on his face. “Of course, we had a blast together.”

Your sister must’ve noticed the way you stared at him when he spoke because she sends you a look. You brush it off, claiming that the two of you had to get going. 

The family ushers you and sangyeon out, muttering more apologies and thanks. 

The door closes behind you two. 

“Well, that was nice.”

“It was,” you agree. 

“He gestures out down the walkway and you start walking, sangyeon easily falling in step next to you. 

Once you reach your car, you stop. 

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

“I was thinking we could see each other again...”

Both of you speak at the exact same time. 

You burst out laughing, sharing a smile. 

“I would love to.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You cut each other off again.

He grins. “Okay-you know what- just contact me. You have my number, right?”

You nod, awkwardly shuffling around. 

“Well, if that’s it.... text me,” you smile crookedly. 

Sangyeon bids you goodbye with a quick peck on the cheek. 

You freeze, watching as he gets in his own car and waves goodbye.

After his car is out of sight, you get in your car, finally alone before being able to fangirl for a second. 

No way. You did it. You might have a future date. A future date who was extremely handsome and the ideal man of your dreams. Also your sister’s brother-in-law..... but you could worry about that later. 

Cupping your cheeks once more, you sigh before driving off, the smile never leaving your face. 

Unbeknownst to you, your sister and niece peek through the blinds, having watched the entire interaction. 

“I told you there was something going on, mommy!” 

❀ 

EW sorry after i post this, im never thinking about it again -i hate it sm but still wanted to show some appreciation for sangyeon 🥺

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (6)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 5.3k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates  @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @ditttiii @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak   @veryuniquenamegoeshere @hd-junglebook @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @officialcarly9701 @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia​

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

You can only see a swirling mass of black and gray in front of you, the hues moving so fast it’s hard to get a grip on what’s happening. Your whole body feels heavy, and you find that it’s impossible to move no matter how hard you try to.

You try to call out for help, but no sound leaves your lips. There’s a sudden weight on your chest, the pressure knocking the air out of you as it grows heavier and heavier for each passing second. Your lungs are burning, and just as you think you can’t handle it anymore, your eyes snap open into the darkness of your room.

You take in a shuddering breath, your body hot and overheated. You can feel the hairs around your face clinging to your skin, and judging by your still racing heartbeat – you just had a nightmare. Although it’s much lighter than in your dream, you can still feel a pressure on your chest as you gulp down air. You peek down, breath getting caught in your throat as you find golden eyes staring right back at you.

Yoongi is lying down on your chest; tail flicking back and forth quickly behind him. The moment he realizes you’re awake, you feel his head bump against your skin, soft fur tickling your chin as he rubs his head back and forth. He doesn’t let up until you pet him in return, your fingers running down his back as you wait for your terrible feeling in your stomach to lessen up a bit.

The shrill sound of your alarm makes you jump, and Yoongi makes a low grumbling sound as you pick him up and place him down beside you on the bed. You curse under you breath as you realize you must’ve slept through the first two alarms. You’re running late, and you know your boss won’t take kindly to that.

You quickly snatch up some clothes from your closet and bring them to the bathroom; trying to clean up the best you can while not making yourself even more behind on time. You stumble into the kitchen still half-asleep, making sure to prepare breakfast for your Yoongi before you leave. You snatch up a few granola bars for yourself, hoping that it will be enough until lunchtime.

You’re about to run out the door when you pause, quickly turning back to the bedroom and peeking your head in through the door.

“Yoongi, I’m going to work now. See you later tonight!” You don’t hear any response, but you see something twitch in the darkness, and that will have to be good enough.

By the time you make it to the bus you’re wheezing, and it’s not until you’re halfway to work that it slows down enough for the morning to fully hit you. Yoongi must’ve realized you slept through the first alarms, and that’s why he had tried to wake you up. Resting your head against the cool window, you stare mindlessly at the passing stores and people. You try to reason with the fluttering in your stomach that he probably only woke you up to make sure he got food before you left, not because he was worried about you showing up late.

You sigh as you step off the bus, hurried steps carrying you into the high-rise building you work in. Your plan had been to talk to him before you left for work, but with how the morning played out, you suppose it will just have to wait until later. You can feel the tense atmosphere the moment you step out from the elevator and onto your floor, hushed whispers carrying through the hallway. You can’t see your boss anywhere, and so you barely manage to sneak into your seat unseen before you hear raised voices coming from an office.

“Thank god you’re here,” Jihyo shoots you a look over her computer.

“What’s going on?” You whisper back as you shrug off your coat. You see your other coworkers muttering quietly between themselves around the office with grim expressions on their faces.

“Some files had been breached yesterday,” You suck in a breath. This is really bad. Even if it’s an old case, it could put the hybrids involved severely at risk.

“Which ones?”

“I’m not sure, but I think one of them might be an older high-profile case,” You wince. This might get really bad for the company if the perpetrator isn’t found and punished for it. While your company is private, it’s still closely linked to the official sector in providing guidance and research for when they’re understaffed or need extra hands on a case. While you love your job and have never been in it for the money, you surely thought the pay would have been a little better based on the amount of work you do. But alas, you can't find it yourself to leave either.

You feel like your shoulders are touching your ears by the time it’s lunch. Your stomach has been growling on and off for the last hour, and it’s with pink cheeks that you and Jihyo hurry out of the building to find some food.

“So, how’s the kitty doing?” Jihyo asks as you walk down the street, carefully avoiding bumping into other people milling around. Coming from a smaller town, you don’t think you’ll ever quite get used to the hustle and bustle of living in such a large city.

“Oh uhm, Yoongi is doing okay,” You wince, quickly adverting your eyes down to the ground as you realize the name slipped out.

“Yoongi?” Jihyo’s eyes are burning into the side of your face.

“Oh, I did one of those .. name generators! Yeah, I used a name generator to find something to call him. It was totally random,” You laugh nervously.

“Okay,” Jihyo drags out the word, obviously not quite believing your little lie.

“Either way, do you mind if me and Sana stop by tonight to hang out a little? She has been nagging me to see you again, and you know I don’t mind hanging out with you one bit,” She bumps her hip into yours.

You’re about to nod when you remember why you absolutely can’t. Sana knows Yoongi is a hybrid, and you’re sure she won’t let it go if she comes over one more time. You feel bad for keeping it secret, but Yoongi was adamant about you keeping it for yourself, and you don’t want to say anything until you know what to do.

“No!” You blurt out, Jihyo sending you a weird look at the outburst.

“I mean, I think Yoongi was really shaken up last time and I think it would be best if she doesn’t come over for a while,” You give her a faint smile.

Jihyo stares at you for a second before she gives you a nod, a small sigh leaving her lips, “I guess you’re right. It’s probably not the best idea.”

You continue walking in a comfortable silence down the street, sparing a moment to admire the vibrant colours that have started to spread through the trees. It probably won’t be long until everything is painted permanently in yellows and red, and you’re definitely looking forward to it.

“How about I come visit you instead?” You offer as you step into a quaint cafe, mouth watering at the sugary smells that hits your nose.

“That’s a great idea!” Jihyo grins. “You can come home with me after work tomorrow!” You hope she doesn’t hear the soft sigh of relief that brushes past your lips.

“Sounds good,” You give her a grin of your own as you start picking out the pastries you want. Crisis adverted, for now.

It still takes your brain a while to catch up when you walk into the living room and find a very human Yoongi sprawled out over your couch. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but you have no idea just how long he’s actually been using it. Despite the lightness in your wallet, you decide you’ll need to go out and pick up some stuff for him soon.

You watch him for a second as he sleeps. His lips are parted in a soft pout and he has an arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the setting sunlight through the windows. You would’ve figure he would have preferred to sleep on your bed while you were gone, but as you reach out a hand into a sliver of light, you can feel the warmth on your skin.

It’s obvious that he enjoys snuggling up in the sunlight in either form, and you hate to admit that you find it all kinds of adorable.  

“Yoongi?” He doesn’t stir when you call out for him. You walk over to the couch, hesitantly laying your hand on his arm to make him wake up. You give it a little shake, and Yoongi grumbles in his sleep as he finally removes it. You see his eyes dilate much more than a normal human’s would when he opens them, a shift of gold passing through them as he blinks sleepily up at you.

“Oh, you’re home?” His voice is husky but soft, cheeks a little puffed out as he reaches up to scratch his ear.

“I just came back,” You resist the urge to coo at how endearing he looks. It doesn’t matter how cute Yoongi looks though, you still need to have the talk that’s been weighing on your mind for the whole day.

“Do you mind if we talk?” Yoongi watches you silently for a few seconds before he shifts on the couch, giving you room to sit down. You collapse against the pillows, reveling in how nice it feels on your back compared to the stiff office chairs.

“First of all, I’m not kicking you out,” You ignore the tiny voice that whispers not yet in the back of your mind. Yoongi tries to give you a disinterested look, but you can see the tension drain out of his shoulders at your words.

“But if you are going to keep living here, we’ll need some rules,” You tuck your knees up to your chest, picking at a loose thread. This is the part you’ve been dreading all day.

“Rules?” Yoongi’s tail flicks irritably, obviously not pleased at the direction the conversation’s going.

“Yes, rules. Just .. I don’t know, clean up after yourself. Let’s give each other some personal space. And tell me if there’s anything you need,” Yoongi tilts his head, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Those are rules?” He snickers. To be honest, you had no idea what you were going to say. You had hoped you would come up with something great, but this is why you never improvise anything. It doesn’t end well.

“Oh!” You suddenly remember the most important part, the rule he already broke yesterday.

“You have to sleep on the couch when I’m in bed.” Yoongi’s laughter stops abruptly.

“Why? It’s big enough for the both of us,” Yoongi glares at you, ears nearly hidden by his hair by how low they are against his head.

“What?! It’s not!” It really isn’t.

Your bed is only slightly bigger than a twin sized bed, and it’s definitely not big enough for you to sleep at a comfortable distance. The only way it would work would be if you were, well, cuddling. You shake off the mental image as soon as it arrives, but the idea is enough to make a pink flush rise in your cheeks.  

“So you’re saying I can’t?” Yoongi asks again, a displeased frown on his lips when you shake your head.

“Yes Yoongi, you,” you gesture to the man in front of you, “can’t sleep on my bed when I’m in it. You can use it when I’m at work, but otherwise you’ll have to stay on the couch.” His ears suddenly perk up again; the low annoyed rumbling sound that was slowly building his chest disappearing completely.

“Fine,” He grumbles, but you notice the way his dark eyes seem to glimmer with the same mischief you’ve seen in videos, when cats purposefully knocks something off a table. You’re not sure you’re going to like whatever he’s thinking about.

“Oh right, before I forget! I’m heading back to Jihyo’s tomorrow after work. I won’t stay very long, but I wanted to let you know,” You smile gently.

You understand that he might not like the dog hybrid considering she did run into the apartment barking and snarling at him, but what you don’t understand is why his whole body stiffens up so much at the mention.

“Okay. I don’t care,” Yoongi snaps at you before you can ask, a harsh glare settling on your face. You feel yourself shrink from the look before you catch yourself. If Yoongi wants to be unfair and mean, then that’s on him, you’ve done nothing wrong.

It stings of course, when he’s so back and fourth and acts like he would much rather be anywhere else but here. But, you know there is more to it than that, so for now, you just bury down your hurt feelings and move on.

“Are you hungry?” You clear your throat at the awkward mood in the room.

The narrowing of Yoongi’s eyes tells you all you need to know, and you find yourself dishing up a quick dinner in no time.

You do make sure to make a little extra, putting it away in the fridge with a note explaining that he can have it for dinner tomorrow while you’re gone. He might be a little mean, but you’ll never let him go hungry if you can help it.

“Sana was so excited last night, she could barely sleep!” Jihyo laughs as you slip on your coat. You wrap one of your older scarves around your neck as you follow her outside. The edges are a little tattered, but it’s one of the softest scarfs you own, and you’re struggling to just throw it away.

“She’s so cute,” You grin.

Truth be told, you had considered cancelling tonight’s plans. Yoongi had been acting ever more distant yesterday after you told him you would be coming home late, and when you found him curled up on the couch this morning, you felt bad.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t like the dog hybrid, and you don’t want to push him away even more by meeting up with her. But at the same time – you want to be able to hang out with Sana and Jihyo, and you can’t just cut off the only friend you have because Yoongi got off on the wrong foot with them.

You quickly climb into the car that’s waiting for you, sinking into the expensive seats with a soft sigh. Your feet have been aching for days from all the extra walking, and getting to rest them for a little while is heavenly. Even though the break is nice, you can’t help but feel a little misplaced in Jihyo’s pricey car. The difference between you is staggering, and you always feel like someone will pop out of thin air and tell you off for enjoying something you obviously don’t have the money for.

Your eyes can’t help but grow little big every time you pull up to Jihyo’s house, the pristine white building probably more of a mansion than anything else. You can see something moving by the front door through the tinted windows, the car pulling to a stop in front of the stairs leading up to it.

The moment Jihyo steps out of the car, Sana is wrapped around her like a koala.

“You’re home!” She squeals, burying her face in Jihyo’s neck while your friend pats her back lovingly. You swallow down the lump in your throat, tearing your eyes away from the display of affection as you climb out of the car on the other side.

The moment you round the black vehicle Sana collects you into a tight hug too, tail wagging furiously behind her.

“I’m so glad you came to see me!” She rubs her head along your chin, the furry ears tickling your skin as she tries to bury down into your neck like she had with Jihyo. She whines when the scarf is the in way, and Jihyo playfully rolls her eyes at the hybrid’s pout when she pulls back.

“Come on girls, I’m starving,” Jihyo takes a step towards the house, and Sana quickly follows her, tugging you along.

The food is delicious, but of course, you didn’t expect anything less from the chefs Jihyo has working in her kitchen. You eat until you’re full and then some, the savory dishes better than anything you’ve had in months.

“I’ll have the them wrap some up so you can bring it home,” Jihyo hurries out of the dining room before you can protest.

Normally, you would refuse to bring home anything, but now .. Now you have another mouth to feed at home. You know Yoongi would love the chicken dish that even made your own mouth water, and you don’t have the heart to deny him that experience. Especially not since you know the fridge is starting to become awfully empty, and there’s still a week until your next paycheck. You feel awful for accepting the food, but you would also feel awful if you didn’t. Mostly, you just feel like you’ve .. failed.

“Do you wanna see my room?” Sana jumps up from her chair the moment you put down your fork, her fluffy ears standing up straight in excitement.

“Sure, I would love to,” You smile and Sana doesn’t waste any time before she grabs your hand, leading you up the stairs to the second floor.

You’ve been to Jihyo’s house many times before, but not after Sana moved in. You’re surprised when you see Sana leading you towards what used to be Jihyo’s art room, but as she pushes the door open, you can see that it has been converted into a beautiful bedroom instead.

“Sit here,” Sana steers you towards her bed, gesturing for you to move to the middle of it. It’s soft and bouncy, and you’re pretty sure your mattress at home would feel like rocks in comparison. The dog hybrid shuffles close, her knees knocking into yours as she sits crossed legged in front of you.

You see her nose twitch repeatedly, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she leans in closer.

“Is he still at your apartment?” Her normally soft voice sounds vaguely like a growl as she locks eyes with you.

“W-who?” You stutter. Of course, you know she means Yoongi, but you didn’t realize she would smell him on you. You didn’t even touch him yesterday!

“The cat – the hybrid,” She snarls, the hairs on her tail rising as she sniffs out the mixed scents.

“Yes, my cat is still at home. But he’s not a hybrid!” You honestly feel silly fighting with Sana when you both know he isone, but you promised Yoongi you wouldn’t expose him.

“We went out for lunch today, I probably bumped into a hybrid while we were out,” You pat her hand, trying to settle her growing uneasiness.

You can tell Sana doesn’t believe you, her keen scene of smell telling her otherwise, but you just need her to get off your back for a little while, just until you know what to do.

“There you are!” Jihyo enters the room just as Sana is about to say something, her lips falling shut with a cute pout at Jihyo’s interruption.

“Where did all your art supplies go?” You ask Jihyo as she climbs onto the bed too. Sana scoots over until she’s cuddled around her, arms around her waist and head resting on her shoulder. You ignore the upset glare Sana is giving you. You can’t really say anything to make it better without exposing yourself and Yoongi.

“Oh, my dad built me a little gallery out in the garden instead!” Jihyo rambles excitedly about her new supplies, and you try your best to follow along even though you don’t really understand much of what she’s talking about. You watch Sana look up at Jihyo with such open fondness that you almost feel like you’re intruding. It’s not hard to see that both of them are just as infatuated with each other as the other, and it makes your heart ache with want.

The whole reason you wanted a pet was to come home to someone who actually wanted you there – someone that would be excited to see you after a long day at work and give you some companionship. With Yoongi however, you’re not sure if you can even refer to him as an acquaintance. To think of him as a friend seems way too farfetched.

“- right?” Jihyo looks at you with a big grin, and you shake yourself out of the thoughts you got lost in.

“Right,” You confirm with a nod, desperately trying to figure out what you actually agreed on. Sana whines as you take Jihyo’s side, and it isn’t until five minutes later that you find out that you actually agreed with Jihyo that chasing squirrels isn’t a fun hobby.

The girls keep bickering for a while, and you resign to leaning back on the bed and watching them until they’re done. The atmosphere at Jihyo’s house just feels so lively compared to your own, and you hate that you don’t know how to make it better. You feel your smile slipping as you watch Sana cling to Jihyo, the hybrid using her puppy dog eyes to win argument.

You love spending time with your friends, but lately, all it seems to be doing is reminding you of what you don’t have, and what you can’t provide for the cat hybrid waiting for you at home.

You clear your throat; the guilt that’s building up in your stomach is making you feel a little sick. Jihyo and Sana stop their little play fight immediately, turning to you with big smiles.

“You guys, I think it’s time for me to go home. I’m still exhausted after Sunday,” It’s technically not a lie, you are tired, but you still feel bad for cutting the night so short.

“Of course! I’ll go get the food, I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute!” Jihyo calls over her shoulder as she hurries out of the room.

You feel a hand on your shoulder stop you as you’re about to follow her, Sana’s big eyes looking at you uncertainly.

“Are you okay?” Her nose twitches, and you see her ears flop down, “you smell sad.”

“I’m okay,” You reach up to pat her head, forcing through the best smile you can muster. You’re only being upset over things you can’t change, there’s no reason to make the hybrid feel bad because of it.

It’s still a little weird that certain predator hybrids can faintly smell your emotions, but you’ve encountered it enough through your work that it doesn’t throw you off too much when you’re reminded of it.

Sana frowns, shaking her head as she moves closer.

“You’re not. I’m gonna cuddle you until you feel better,” The dog hybrid wraps herself around you much like she did with Jihyo earlier, shoving her face into your neck and rubbing her head under your jaw. You chuckle as her breath tickles your neck, and although you feel like it’s probably more for her than it actually is for you, you still welcome the hug. You only extract yourself from her grasp when Jihyo calls out for you, Sana whining as she loses her cuddle buddy.

“I’ll see you soon okay?” You give her nose an affectionate bop.

“You better.”

.

Your arms are shaking as you finally make it inside your apartment, the bags of food Jihyo gave you weighing far more than you ever anticipated.

“You’re back,” You startle when you turn around and find Yoongi standing there, arms hanging loosely by his sides as he watches you. His voice sounds bored and disinterested, but the small twinkle in his eyes at your return gives him away. Maybe he is a little excited that you’re back after all.

“Help,” You grunt out as you try to slip off your shoes, trying your best to not fall over.

Yoongi takes a step forward to help you before he freezes, eyes narrowing in you as he inhales. His delicate features twists into disgust as he takes in the smell, his nostrils flaring as he glares at you.

“You stink,” He hisses as he quickly scoops the bags away from you, stalking into the kitchen before you can even make a sound. You feel a little dumbstruck by the interaction, leaning down to get a whiff of your coat and the sweater underneath it. You don’t smell anything out of the ordinary, but maybe you should change just in case.

You end up quickly changing into something else; joining Yoongi in the kitchen to help him put away the food you got from Jihyo. You can see that the food you prepared for him last night is gone, and you’re sure he must be hungry by now.

Yoongi shoots you another disgruntled look as you come up next to him, his tail flicking back and forth behind him. You focus on folding and putting away the bags you got the food in, ignoring the annoyed puffs of air coming from Yoongi every other second.

He suddenly takes a step around you to grab another bag, his chest rubbing up against your back as he grab the handles. You suck in a breath in surprise, unconsciously holding it until Yoongi returns to his spot. You can still feel the phantom warmth cling to the back of your shirt, your heartbeat speeding up from the sudden contact.

Yoongi’s irritation seems to calm down a bit after that, but your heart surely doesn’t. The cat hybrid keeps randomly brushing up against you as you move around the kitchen, hands grazing your arms and shoulders as he reaches for something above you, or a firm grip on your waist to move you out of the way.

You finally usher him into the living room to get some space, confused by the unusual amount of contact when he normally wants you to stay out of his way.

You take a deep breath before you bring the heated chicken dish into the living room, placing it on the table in front of Yoongi.

“Jihyo gave us some leftovers,” You explain, and he only raises an eyebrow in return. You know it’s definitely not just leftovers, but you’re too tired get into it, the whole day a whirlwind of different emotions.

“Just eat,” You mumble as you sit down next to him on the couch, reaching for the remote to turn to the TV on.

“Wait,“ Yoongi’s pale hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist. Your eyes snap up to his face in shock. His jaw is clenched, ears flat against his head as he looks down at you.

“I just .. It wasn’t enough – You still stink,” He hisses and you barely see his eyes narrow in on your neck before he pulls you close. Your words get caught in your throat as you feel Yoongi’s nose rubbing along the skin, his harsh breath making goosebumps rise all over your body.

His arms are locked around your back, gluing your arms to your side as he moves his face all over your exposed skin. You hear a low rumbling sound coming from his chest, and it reminds you of those broken purrs he made the evening Sana and Jihyo came over.

“Yoongi?” You squeak as the shock finally settles. You can feel his soft locks brushing against your face as he moves to the other side, hands digging into your back to pull you closer.

“You still reek of her,” His fangs lightly scrape against your shoulder as he hisses out the words, and you bite down harshly on your lips to hold back a gasp. Sure, maybe you’re a little touch starved, but this is Yoongi. Weird thoughts aren’t allowed.

“Her?” Your mind feels muddled as the sounds from his chest grows louder. You can almost feel his body vibrating from the force of it from where you’re pressed up against his chest.

“The dog,” He growls.

Sana.

You want to smack yourself. Of course Yoongi would think you smelled bad after Sana had been all over you with hugs and close proximity. Her scent was probably still lingering strongly on you. He most likely didn’t want the smell in his territory, and that why he’s .. scenting you.

If there was something you never expected that would happen between yourself and Yoongi, it was this. Territory and scenting goes hand in hand, and the fact that he was scenting you? He was practically marking you as his. The realization makes you blush, your face growing redder and redder for each broken purr that sounds from Yoongi’s body.

You try to reel in your thoughts. This is Yoongi. He’s definitely not marking you or claiming you in any way, he’s just getting rid of what he deems a foul smell that’s lingering on your skin. You’re sure of it.

Yoongi’s purrs suddenly stop, his face freezing against your skin as it finally smells like it’s supposed to do. He abruptly pulls back, and you almost tumble of the couch with the force he pushes you away with. He practically runs to the bathroom with small curses muttered under his breath.

You fan your face, the cold evening air outside suddenly sounding very tempting in comparison to the stifling heat inside your living room. When Yoongi doesn’t emerge after five minutes, you realize he’s probably as embarrassed as you are. It was most likely his instincts that made him scent you, and based on the hot and cold attitude he’s been giving you, you’re sure this is a blow to his pride.

A glance down at the table reminds you that he hasn’t eaten yet, and you doubt he will if you stay on the couch. You decide to sneak away into your room, not minding going to bed a little early.

As you settle into bed, you hear soft footsteps out in the hallway fading away into the living room. After some mindless scrolling on your phone, you hear those same footsteps moving into the kitchen.

You make sure to set your alarms, snuggling down under your covers as you stare up at the dark ceiling. Your chest flutters as nothing in the darkness can distract you from the memory of Yoongi’s skin against yours, and his surprisingly strong arms caging you in.

It felt .. nice, and the realizing that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again makes you quickly hide away under your comforter.

Go to bed, you scold yourself, quickly blocking out any thoughts that reminds you of golden eyes and slender fingers.

It definitely takes longer than normal to fall asleep, and you barely have even a thread of consciousness left when you hear your door creak open.

It’s silent for so long that you think you’ve dreamt it, but slowly but surely you feel the side of the bed facing the door dipping as another weight settles on top of it. The presence next to you feels bigger than the nights before, and you swear you feel another persons’ heat seep through the covers.

Again, everything grows so quiet and still that you don’t think much off it, sleep pulling you under quickly.

You dream of silky hair brushing against your cheek and strong arms wrapped around your waist, the soft echo of a husky voice whispering Mine burying itself deep in your heart.

- - - -

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the sixth chapter of desolate! I mean .. we're getting there lmao 👀 IMPORTANT: I have three big papers due at the end of May, and while I've been distracting myself nicely from writing them so far, I've reached a point where I can't ignore them anymore if I want to actually pass my classes lol. Therefore, I won't be updating this story weekly anymore. I will be updating this bi-weekly, so that means that Abundance will be updated the weeks when this is not. This will also give me some time to make the chapters longer and I'll get the chance to plan more ahead, so it's honestly for the best! The faster I'll be able to finish my papers, the faster I can go back to updating both stories weekly. :) Hope you understand, and thank you all so much for the support so far, it makes me so happy! <3 I have a posting schedule on my page that will be updated as soon as I figure out the best day for updating, but I'm guessing it might end up being tuesdays or wednesdays. I will also post small sneak peaks of coming chapters as a little something extra. Hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon! <3

[cockasinthebird]

could i request uhhh billy enjoying watching steve masturbate? he loves to watch as steve fingers himself. as he fucks himself with abandon on a long hard dildo. as he’s breathless humping mommy and daddy’s expensive furniture like a bitch in heat. billy could come in his pants at the sight of it.

Dear anon,  This request is old as fuck, holy shit, and if you’re still around, thank you for your patience hahaha

I’ve been working on the fic for a long long time, and while it’s not entirely done, I have decided to separate it into three parts, and two of them are ready to be posted, the third one I just started on a few weeks ago, and I don’t know when it’ll be finished, but here, the first part, for your enjoyment!

-

The first time Billy got the awe-inspiring pleasure of watching Steve touch himself to completion they’d been dating for a few months, when all the animalistic rivalry reached a fever point and they wound up grinding against one another behind the school after having thrown a few punches.

Not exactly something either of them had planned, least of all Billy, whose punishment for such things in the past was moving from California to this shithole town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. They spent close to a year hating each other before they found time to have an actual honest conversation about, well, whatever it is that’s going on here.

It’s a late July evening, Billy is “spending the night with his girlfriend,” if Neil were to ask, but he doesn’t even think of either his abusive asshole of a father, or the prospects of even finding a girlfriend, as he sits in one end of the large sofa, dressed in a pair of blue shorts he’s borrowed from Steve, in the 93 degree heat.

At the other end lies Steve fucking Harrington himself, dressed in a pair of tighty whities, head lulled against the armrest, one leg hanging off the edge of the couch, and the other caught between the backrest and Billy’s own leg; waxed and tan pressed against hairy and pale.

Steve loves to cuddle - borderline obsessed with it if you were to ask Billy, but the reigning Keg King is more than willing to give in to his Princess’ constant need for physical affection and reassurance, although tonight is a whole different story.

For while Billy is used to heat, grew up with the scorching sun, the burning asphalt, 97 degrees, Steve’s spent most of his summers in Indiana, where on average the heat might reach the 70s, so this? This is hell.

“No, don't touch me!” he had protested when Billy showed up earlier and dived right in to kiss him. “I’m fucking burning up!”

Their shins touching, forming an X between them, is the most contact Steve has offered up all day, and the least since they started doing… whatever it is they’re doing.

Empty cans of soda and a few beers litter the coffee table, Cheers plays on the biggest TV Billy’s ever seen, the audience laughing loudly, but he only notices how Steve huffs and chuckles at whatever is happening in the bar, not that Billy’s actually paying any attention to the show.

Rather he’s staring at Steve, head turned towards the screen but eyes caught in the way Steve’s fingers run through that little patch of hair he has on his chest. Then it moves down, smoothly caressing his abs in a pattern that’s all too familiar to Billy’s own touch; the same route he travels when his own calloused fingers gets to move across that pale, soft flesh, circling around the moles on his way southbound, past the navel to where his treasure trail starts.

Dark hairs that guide any lucky admirer to their most coveted final destination, and tonight it seems only the subject of Billy’s desires himself gets to brush his fingers through it all.

As the tips of Steve’s fingers near the elastic border of his underwear, Billy feels his heart beat faster, letting fire loose through his veins, yet Steve pulls away again, up through the coarse hair to where it starts just below his navel, then down again. Is he aware of what this is doing to Billy? Does he know he’s being watched this way? Leered at?

Every time those fingers go down, Billy’s pulse goes up.

And when Steve knocks their legs together, Billy looks up to catch the other staring right back, one corner of those soft, pink lips pulled up into a lazy smirk.

“Hi,” Steve whispers as he meets with those blue, attentive eyes.

“Hey,” is all Billy can muster.

“What are you doing?” a question that doesn’t really need an answer, clearly rhetorical as the way Steve coos it out proves he knows.

But Billy obliges with a, “Enjoying the view,” anyways.

“Oh yeah?” Now Steve moves his hand further, stays on top of the fabric, chaste in the gentle way he grazes the length of his flaccid cock.

Billy licks his lips and opens to take a shaking breath as he feels himself twitch at the sight of how Steve teases. “Yeah.”

Fingers go from gentle to firm as Steve palms at himself through the white fabric, his erection growing quickly both under his own touch and the persistent, unblinking stare that Billy offers up. Steve’s breathing turns ragged and he bites down on his lip in the most enticing manner that makes Billy shuffle around on his end. 

Who reaches down to adjust himself in the borrowed shorts, his fat cock tenting something so beautifully, ensuring that Steve sees how hard he is, eyes glued to the motion of the other’s hand running along the clear bulge in those tight trunks.

Steve’s exhales grow into moans, letting slip slight “ah”s and “mmh”s, his gaze jumping back and forth from Billy’s steely cock and those oceans of pure lust staring back.

“Take them off,” Billy whispers, yet his voice carries louder than the laughter on the tv.

“Hmm?” Steve hums and slows down his hand to pay better attention.

“Take off your underwear. I wanna see you,” Billy growls out and pulls away his own hand in resistance of the urge to finish all too soon.

Steve smiles a bit wider at the way Billy demands for him to get undressed completely, but doesn’t hesitate to stand up and do just that. Drops his white trunks to the floor and stays upright, blocking the tv a bit, one hand finding its way to wrap itself around his prick as it stands at full attention where he runs his thumb over the leaking head.

Billy runs his hand up Steve’s hairy thigh till he reaches the hip and rests his palm there, heavy and hot and sweaty.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he breathes out in clear astonishment, mesmerized by the way Steve slowly moves his hand along his flushed dick. “Now go sit down again. Over there.” 

Again Steve doesn’t speak - doesn’t question it, simply does as told and sits down so far away that neither of them can reach without stretching out their legs, his hand never pausing the lackadaisical stroking of his aching flesh.

“Spread your legs for me.” Billy rests his head against his fist, elbow on the back of the couch, his other hand down to keep itself busy with the string of the shorts.

Steve brings one leg onto the sofa again, pressed against Billy’s shin, forming the same position he held earlier with the other foot still on the ground, and he slips down just a bit to expose himself.

But it’s not good enough.

“Wider,” Billy says with a voice oh so stern and controlling, but with his tongue out to play along his lips, eyes dark and sultry.

And Steve does just that; scoots further down till he’s lying with his head on the armrest, then swings one leg over the back of the expensive sofa, expertly spreading himself out in front of Billy, putting everything on display. 

“Like this?” he asks, low and teasing, fingers still pleasantly drifting along his lengthy cock.

“Yeah,” Billy moans in appreciation of everything being served just for him. “Like that, pretty boy. God you look amazing.”

“Oh?” Steve cocks a brow, feigning ignorance, as if he doesn’t know exactly how incredible he looks. “You like watching me?”

His hand moves faster, gripping and pulling at every single inch of hard flesh, bringing out the most wonderfully lascivious sounds, clearly revelling in the attention of his King.

“Mmh, fuck yes,” Billy grunts out, bites at his lower lip and digs his nails into the fabric of the couch to keep himself still. “I love watching you. At practice, in the showers, in class, when you sleep.”

Steve lets escape a light huff of a laugh at that. “When I sleep?”

“Yeah, when you’re at peace, resting all blissful ‘n shit, mouth just slightly open, looking so soft. I just want to… disturb you. Fuck you out of it, finger you awake, start your day off full of my big dick.”

And the way Steve whines at that thought makes it near impossible for Billy to remain dormant. 

“Fuck, Billy-” His hand moves faster, erratic in a way that loses all that teasing control he held seconds ago. “I… I wouldn’t mind that…” voice quivers with unadulterated lust.

Billy catches his tongue in a wicked grin, eyes lidded and heavy in a way he knows lights Steve on fire. “You want that? Want me to fuck you when you’re still all hazy from sleep? Wake you up with my fat cock?”

“A-ah, yes,” Steve whimpers before throwing his head back, dark locks sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth wide open to stutter out in pleasure. With no sense of proper rhythm, he fists himself with fervor and a little, “Fuh-ck…”

“Shit, Stevie…” whispers Billy with a voice thick from wanton.

Absentmindedly he unties the shorts and digs his thumb underneath the waistband of it. He feels an ache most primal, a deep and fiery urge to get off, to touch his leaking cock and finish himself to the incredible sight of how sweaty Steve is; moaning out and thrusting into his own hand. Billy’s left leg starts bouncing impatiently from where his foot is planted on the floor. 

Steve lifts up his head, leans it against the backrest and looks down at the dark spot staining the blue fabric of his shorts, biting his lip at the sight of how big Billy is. So he moves closer, further down the couch till he’s flat on his back, legs spread like an open invitation for Billy to just… do whatever he pleases.

Billy gives in at that and brings a hand to his throbbing erection, squeezing around the girthy shaft and massages the head with his palm; the sparks that shoot from his touch like a lighter trying to ignite.

“You’re such a fucking tease, princess,” he growls out, hoarse from self restraint.

He wants to indulge in what Steve is longing for, wants to fuck him wild till he’s sore - till he can’t sit right or walk straight, fuck him like he deserves to be fucked, hard and rough, soft if he asks nice enough, but above all that, he wants to watch how Steve fulfils his own needs. Wants to watch him lose sanity, chase his own high, jerk off like he does when Billy isn’t around to suck him clean.

“Billy, mmh- fuck,” Steve coos out and brings up a hand to push away his hair, as if to allow Billy a better view of how lost he is, brows knit and raised high, eyes squeezed tight in par with his hand grasping at his weeping cock. “I’m- I’m so close-”

And Billy knows this is a view reserved only for him. That no one else on all of planet earth has gotten to see this - not Nancy, not Tommy, not any other boy or girl Steve has been fucking around with. That this requires trust, that Steve trusts him enough to be this vulnerable.

Each moan that echoes with his name throughout the mansion sends ripples across the whirlpool of heat that threatens to spill over, Steve’s voice so full of crude little curses and gasps and Billy, Billy, Billy, that he no longer can resist the powerful temptations and he pulls down his shorts just far enough so that he can get a proper grip on his painfully hard prick.

“Doing so good for me, baby, arrh, shit, wanna watch you cum, make a mess of yourself.” He stares keenly at how Steve’s glistening thighs tense up, how his abs twitch and chest stutters.

“Yes, ahh, fuck- fuck!” Steve reaches up to hold on to the armrest for dear life, back arching beautifully, toes curling as he cums in a breathless feat, streams of white shooting up to his chest as he empties out with quick strokes.

Billy is close behind, the show more than enough to get him there, accompanied only with a few urgent flicks of his hand before he's spilling wet and hot onto his abs, groaning out as he tightens his grip to ride out his orgasm with a rough pull or two. 

Steve stays still, his chest heaving the only sign of life from him, and Billy smiles, soft and unseen, as he looks at the well worn-out, pale form before him. 

"You alive?" he chuckles. 

"Yeah, just… It's just so fucking hot…" Steve complains and fans himself with the hand that isn't dripping with his own semen. 

Billy hums pleasantly, lazy and satiated, "It's not that bad once you get used to it." 

Steve simply huffs out something defiant and searches for his underwear that's been tossed on the floor, then wipes his hand, chest and stomach as clean as he can with very little effort. 

"Here," he says and tosses the trunks to Billy, suggesting that he use them for the same purpose. "Don't ruin my shorts, they're my best pair." 

And Steve watches as Billy carefully wipes away the lesser mess he made, the white fabric well soaked by now. Then their eyes meet, and it's almost as if Steve can read Billy's mind what with how wide his eyes go, yet he doesn't protest as Billy brings the briefs up to sniff them. 

"You're so gross!" Steve smiles wide and gives Billy's leg a light kick. 

Who guffaws loudly before tossing the trunks away to land with a humorous splat. 

"You want another beer?" 

"Always." 

[xiaomomowrites]

midas touch

Genshin Impact | ZhongChi

Summary: Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

“Can I…” Ajax starts tentatively. His eyes are blown so wide, and they glimmer with curiosity and a silent joy that is akin to a child being gifted sweets. Zhongli chuckles, nodding his head in silent affirmation. 

The pads of Ajax’s fingers hesitantly make contact with the horns stemming from the crown of his head. They’re beautiful; they glow as if they’re dipped in melted mora, pulsing brightly and casting a dim light across Ajax’s pale skin. They’re quite long, and Ajax gently trails his index finger along the curve of a horn. They don’t stick straight up, though. Instead, it bows backwards charmingly until it tapers off midway toward the back of Zhongli’s head.

Beautiful.

Or, Zhongli discovers something new about his powers and gladly takes advantage of it.

Find it on Ao3!

A/N: Soo the thought process behind this fic was inspired by three different pieces of chili fanart I found on twitter (I'll link it in the end notes) and the concept that my mutual put in my head of Zhongli turning Childe's skin to gold whenever he touches him. My mutual is a genius. And uhhh initially I didn't expect this to turn explicit, but I just started typing and then suddenly they were going at it lol. But writing them super soft and cute is always such a pleasure, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)

But this was so fun to write! Definitely a good break from act vi bc damn that piece just doesn't want to be written right now. I have a collab with miss stereotypicallyasian on the way as well, a Naruto x Genshin crossover that I should be posting sometime toward the end of the week!

--

As soon as he wakes up, Zhongli finds his breath stuttering with a noticeable hollowness in his chest that he cannot quite describe. 

Briefly, he supposes it is merely the effect of his gnosis being taken. But even with the core of his divinity gone, there still remains a vibrant energy coursing through his veins that buzzes with a level of excitement. It’s a nagging feeling, but it is the very thing that keeps him awake at night. Zhongli exhales, nice and slow, and allows the back of his head to press against the pillows he had propped up against the table. His hair is free from its usual hold and it spills across his shoulders in ribbons of black and gold. 

He stretches his legs across the blankets he’s laid beneath him and wiggles his toes, flexes his fingers, twitches his nose. The wind around him responds in kind. Warm Liyuan air wafts through the room at the inn as the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the walls. Zhongli feels himself sink into the floor, melting into the plush pillows, and revels in the way he is being held down firmly by the weight in his lap that belongs to his beloved.

He’s been tired these days. 

Only a week had passed after the incident with Osial and his official retirement as the Archon of Geo. Adjusting so far has been strange, and eerily enough, rather easy. Despite the new creaking in his joints and the mild back pain he never quite felt until now, he’s become rather fond of the quaint life he subconsciously built while he was living amongst his people. 

And, well, Ajax’s presence made adjusting rather painless. The Harbinger staying by his side somehow made it easier to to cope with the gaping void in his chest.

Speaking of which, Ajax makes himself known by rolling over and shuffling closer, burying his face in his abdomen. The ex-Archon cracks an eye open and looks down at the smattering of red hair against his stomach. He can’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Ajax,” he calls, voice a deep rumble from his temporary slumber, “it’s getting late. If you continue napping, you’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight.”

He’s answered with unintelligible mumbling, and the vibrations of Ajax’s voice tickles his stomach.

“What?” He breathes out a laugh. 

“Xiansheng I don’t want to get uppp,” Ajax whines as he props his chin against Zhongli’s stomach. He wriggles closer, moving up higher in his lap until his face is pressed up against his chest. Zhongli cradles the back of his head lovingly, and softly runs a bare hand through ginger locks. 

“You must, baobei,” Zhongli tugs on his hair gently, “also because I am getting quite hungry.”

Ajax makes a noise of indignance against him. The ginger looks up, ready to protest, but abruptly halts. 

His eyes widened comically. Ajax stares at him like he had grown a second head, cerulean eyes tracing his every feature as if this was his first time ever seeing him. Any noise or complaint of being woken up dies on his lips as he’s suddenly speechless, any and all vocabulary suddenly void. 

Zhongli’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is everything okay?” 

“Xiansheng, you’re…” the ginger trails off breathlessly, “by the Gods, you’re beautiful.”

Zhongli sputters. “Well, I am flattered, truly, but--”

“Zhongli,” Ajax all but hisses. He brings a deft finger up to Zhongli’s hair, but doesn’t quite stop at his fringe. He reaches up, up, up and--

Ah. 

Zhongli knows where this is going. This isn’t the first time this has happened. 

Sometimes, in moments where Zhongli finds himself surrendering to the harmonic bliss that surrounds him, he’ll allow himself to lose control over his mortal form and let some of his draconic features shine through. Some days his horns will make an appearance, and other times his scales will begin to blossom across what once was human skin. Tonight, his horns make themselves present, and his eyes have shifted, too.

“Can I…” Ajax starts tentatively. His eyes are blown so wide, and they glimmer with curiosity and a silent joy that is akin to a child being gifted sweets. Zhongli chuckles, nodding his head in silent affirmation. 

The pads of Ajax’s fingers hesitantly make contact with the horns stemming from the crown of his head. They’re beautiful; they glow as if they’re dipped in melted mora, pulsing brightly and casting a dim light across Ajax’s pale skin. They’re quite long, and Ajax gently trails his index finger along the curve of a horn. They don’t stick straight up, though. Instead, it bows backwards charmingly until it tapers off midway toward the back of Zhongli’s head.

Beautiful.

“You’re…” he breathes, “I’ve never seen…”

“It has been a long time since I last let myself truly relax into this form.” 

Ajax’s eyes flicker back down to his face as Zhongli’s voice snaps him out of his reverie. He’s met with eyes glowing bright as cor lapis, pupils almost narrowed into slits, and a few stray ebony scales. 

“Woah…”

Once again with the curiosity of a child, Ajax reaches out to poke at the scales blooming across Zhongli’s skin. The ex-Archon tuts. 

“My apologies, I was not aware that this much of me was visible—“

“Why are you apologizing?” Ajax demands, eyes darting up to his horns once more before locking onto his golden ones. “You’re beautiful, Xiansheng. I had no idea you could even do this.”

“Frankly, I am surprised, too,” Zhongli speaks honestly. Ajax looks at him, stunned. “I didn’t think this could happen without my gnosis. But life has been full of surprises lately, it seems.”

“What else could you do?” Ajax asks excitedly, shifting to where he was sitting up and laying on his side, curled around the latter. He rests against the incline of Zhongli’s body comfortably. They were still pressed against each other impossibly close, legs intertwining. Zhongli’s head presses against the pillow behind him, and Ajax stares at the horn-shaped indent in the cushion inquisitively. Zhongli is filled with an abrupt surge of affection at the sight. It has been a long time since someone looked at him with such fascination in this form. “Without your gnosis, I mean. Obviously you could do a lot with it.”

“I still have yet to see, Ajax, as it’s only been a week since I’ve lost it,” Zhongli murmurs. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from Ajax’s forehead. He presses the pad of his thumb against the growing frown lines developing between the ginger’s eyebrows. “How are you already developing wrinkles? You are still so young.”

“Mean!” Ajax pulls away, rubbing at the spot with the back of his hand. “Says the one who is six thousand years old! In fact I’m surprised you don’t have any wrinkles. Seriously, I’ve never even see you apply moisturizer before and—“

“Ajax,” Zhongli interrupts. This time, it’s his turn to stare at Ajax with astonishment. His eyes, bright and golden, burn a hole through the spot on Ajax’s forehead where Zhongli was just poking at. The ginger can’t help but strain to look up as if he could catch a glimpse of what the half-dragon was looking at. Cross-eyed, he just looked ridiculous. And confused. He was so, so confused. 

“What, what?” Ajax asks anxiously. Zhongli stares at him still, wordlessly reaching up to touch him again. The dragon’s eyes soften, brushing a knuckle right across Ajax’s cheekbone, right underneath a blue eye. The Harbinger sees, then, the gold that shimmers right beneath his vision. Zhongli’s expression is nothing short of enamored, astonished, and downright entranced.

“Is your hand glowing?” he asks. Zhongli shakes his head, listening, but not really. His eyes trail across Ajax’s face, too focused on the path that his hand takes more than anything else. He continues drawing lazy patterns across Ajax’s cheek, and the gold seems to shine brighter. “Xiansheng, what is going on?” 

“Your skin,” he begins slowly, voice lowered into a hush. Ajax has to strain to listen to him. “It seems to turn to gold where I touch.”

“W-what?” Ajax scrambles, but Zhongli places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s temporary, love, do not fret. The spot on your forehead has already disappeared.” 

“Wait, wait, I wanna see!” Ajax demands, suddenly sitting up straight. Zhongli follows suit and corrects his posture, holding his palm out as an invitation. 

“Give me your hand,” he commands gently. The latter complies, and places the back of his hand in the warmth of Zhongli’s own. 

The ex-Archon uses the tip of his finger to trace patterns into his hand, and the skin underneath responds immediately to the touch. It glows an ethereal shade of gold that has Ajax blinking away the spots that form in his eyes from the brightness. And although it goes away as quickly as it comes, it still leaves a tingling feeling across his skin as it disappears. Zhongli doesn’t so much as flinch at the brightness, though, as he continues tracing letters, characters, symbols he’s never seen before, into the palm of Ajax’s hand. The ginger shivers at the touch. It’s so intimate— it’s too intimate— he feels like he’s going to pass out. He can feel an energy so divine being pressed into the palm of his hand, sinking in through his skin and spilling into his bloodstream. Ajax’s heart beat picks up, a newfound energy coursing through his veins. 

It is a blessing that no one could ever even imagine receiving from Rex Lapis himself. 

Because gnosis or not, the being before him was a deity too precious to be touching a soul as blackened as Ajax’s. And yet here he was, accepting such a heavenly gift from Teyvat’s oldest god. 

Ajax almost wants to pull away, but it is his pure curiosity that keeps him in place.

Zhongli continues his trail up the Harbinger’s arm, and this time, he’s drawing flower petals that bloom from thin branches. They encroach upon the inside of his forearm, streaming along his veins as Zhongli draws petal after petal. The half-dragon is quick— quicker than the rate in which the golden lines disappear. He sketches the design of his flowers rapidly across his skin, all while maintaining his gentle hold on Ajax.

The human canvas has no choice but to sit and watch with awe as the design seems to come to life. Blue eyes follow gold, attracted like a moth to a flame, and Ajax is simply unable to look away from the art Zhongli creates on his skin of all things. Ajax’s skin, freckled and marred by years of fighting, is being turned into a work of art made for his eyes, and his eyes only. 

Once again, Zhongli has done what has felt like the impossible. 

But of course, all good things come to an end, and Zhongli stops. With a flick of his wrist, he tapers the tip of the last petal he draws before withdrawing his hand entirely. Ajax watches with the same level of fascination as the golden strokes vanish as if they were never even there. Yet still, Ajax’s skin tingles. 

“Any chance you knew you could do that?” he speaks after awhile, voice uncharacteristically quiet, pensive.

“No,” Zhongli answers, eyes flickering back up to him. “But to be honest with you, I do not wish to stop.”

Ajax’s eyes widen at the statement. “What do you mean—“

Zhongli’s hands grip at Ajax’s hips as he pushes him backwards. The Harbinger gasps, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck for stability. Zhongli crowds him in an instant as soon as Ajax’s back hits the floor. The ex-Archon noses at his neck, peppering kisses along the line of his jugular and watching with dilated eyes as a trail of gold is left behind where his lips once were. The feeling that blossoms in his chest can only be described as some primal satisfaction as Ajax is marked with his stamp of gold.

“I cannot help but wonder,” Zhongli speaks quietly, “if your skin would turn to gold while touching all parts of me.” His voice drops a whole octave. If it was deep before, it was even deeper now, closer to a purr than anything. The sound rumbles through his chest, making Ajax shiver at the noise.

Ajax’s breath stutters. “Oh,” is all he manages to say.

“If you would indulge my curiosity so kindly,” Zhongli begins, voice breathy, “I’d like to see you glow in many other places.”

“Oh my god,” Ajax blushes a furious red, “you have such a way with words, Xiansheng! And just do me already, you’ve never had to ask before!”

“I’m just asking because in this form, I might be… slightly different in some places.” Zhongli’s ears burn red.

“Oh my god,” Ajax all but sobs, “shut up and get inside me old man, make me glow, or whatever.”

Zhongli grins and oh fuck he has fangs, of course he has fangs—

“As you wish.”

Ajax does a lot more than glow that night. In fact, he gets so much more than what he initially bargained for. The sun begins to set, but the darkness that befalls the room matters naught when Ajax is turned into a human lamp every time Zhongli touches him. And gods above, does he touch him.

When Zhongli kisses him, his head spins a little more. When clawed hands squeeze at his hips and almost break skin, his heart beats a little faster. When one, then two, then three oiled fingers slip past the tight rim of muscle with care and makes him grind his hips down impatiently, his breaths come a little shorter. And when Zhongli finally, finally slides in and makes him forget his own name, Ajax can’t help the broken moan that flies past his lips when he bottoms out. 

Holy shit, Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he said he was built a little different. 

Though, they probably needed to gloss over the definition of a little later tonight because apparently, a little meant an additional three whole inches in length and half an inch in girth. The newfound length brushes past places in Ajax’s body he never even knew existed, scratching an itch he wasn’t aware he had.

Was Ajax expecting to be taking his boyfriend’s dragon dick at nine at night when he was supposed to be having dinner? No. Was he going to take it anyway? Absolutely. And in retrospect, Ajax was faring just fine. He had his legs wrapped tightly around Zhongli’s waist and his hands tugging at his loose locks. The amber ends glow brighter at every pull and Ajax just holds onto the strands for comfort at this point.

Zhongli, on the other hand, had his eyes shut and was breathing hard through his nose. 

“Xiansheng?” Ajax calls tentatively. He reaches a hand out to cup Zhongli’s cheek, and almost gets distracted by the luminance his hand emits as soon as he makes contact. 

“I’m alright,” Zhongli says through gritted teeth, “I’m having trouble… regaining composure, is all.”

“What do you mean?” Ajax gasps when Zhongli’s hips flex.

“You…” he struggles, “are very tight. And. My senses are heightened in this form.”

Ajax smiles wickedly, and squeezes around him. Zhongli hisses, biting down hard on Ajax’s shoulder. His fangs almost break skin, but the ginger doesn’t even flinch. 

“Let me on top,” he says instead, “I can set the pace.”

“That might be difficult,” Zhongli begins tentatively, “laying on my back may not be an option at the moment.”

“What? Why— oh, holy fuck.”

Lo and behold, a long, serpentine tail is laid out across the blankets and thumps once, twice, happily in place. It’s thicker at the base where it forms near Zhongli’s body, and smoothly tapers out until the end is covered in silky, golden locks. Ajax swears it sparkles. The hair flows so elegantly across their floor, Ajax almost has the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. And he would, if he currently wasn’t impaled and unable to move. 

“... I apologize—“

“That is so hot,” Ajax almost weeps. “Please for the love of all Archons, Zhongli, Morax, I’m begging—ah!”

The lilt in his voice as he begs, whining the long lost name, has Zhongli moving before he can register what he’s doing.

Zhongli moves. He throws all caution to the wind and lets himself move recklessly without abandon. Ajax writhes beneath him and takes what he is given with gratitude, praying with breathless gasps and broken moans. Every noise that leaves his throat has Zhongli moving desperately for more. The light between them glows brighter, almost impossibly so, to where Ajax has to squeeze his eyes shut.

There's a moment where Zhongli grinds into him just right that sends Ajax crashing; his head is thrown back when he's all but forced to see stars, and his fingers scrabble to claw at Zhongli's skin for support. His back arches high off the bed and the ex-Archon uses the space to wrap a solid arm around Ajax’s lithe waist. He takes advantage of the bared neck in front of him and immediately noses at his pulse point, licking over the skin before sucking the flesh between his teeth. 

They lose track of time in the throes of their own pleasure. At some point, the sun fully sets, but Zhongli continues to shove him down into the sheets relentlessly. Ajax on the other hand, takes it like a pro and continues to surprise Zhongli with his growing responsiveness. He takes and takes and Zhongli feels like he has no choice but to continue giving. The dance between them is elegant as much as it is animalistic, and Ajax loves it.

Zhongli bites down on his neck slightly, flexes his hips, and the breaking of Ajax’s pale skin and the relentless pressure against his neck has the ginger spilling between the tight press of their bodies. A dragon’s fangs, apparently, are by no means gentle and tear into his skin with ease. Yet, the blinding pain that sears through Ajax’s body sends him tumbling nonetheless. Zhongli fucks him through his orgasm, rutting against him until he tips over at the sound of Ajax's pitiful, overstimulated cries. He shudders as he empties into him, breathing hard against where his face is pressed into his neck. 

They lay there for a moment; Zhongli tries to get his breathing under control, and Ajax tries to focus his vision after it had blurred during his climax. The ginger rakes his nails along Zhongli’s sweaty back, and the sensation brings them both back down from their high. Their breaths are heavy and labored, and Ajax can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips when he finally calms down, because holy shit. He’s going to want to do that every night, now.

Sometime amidst their fun, the golden glow had dimmed, until it all but disappeared. 

"You suck," Ajax gasps after a moment, "you just ruined vanilla sex for me."

Zhongli snorts. "I don't suppose you expect me to morph every time you want to be intimate?"

Ajax's silence speaks volumes. It’s silent confirmation. The latter looks up, disgruntled. He looks so unamused, brows furrowed and everything, it makes Ajax chuckle and kiss the frown away. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, xiansheng," he waves him off, "the only thing I expect from you right now is for you to pull out, oh my god Zhongli, get out of me. You're like those huge dogs that think they can fit in your lap! You're not exactly small, mister Rex Lapis!" 

"Oh, yes, my apologies," Zhongli murmurs. He presses a light kiss to Ajax's freckled shoulder before sliding out, muttering a quiet apology when he winces. He rolls off of Ajax and lays on his back next to him, so they're both staring up at the ceiling. His tail is gone and so are his horns, so he can finally lay on his back comfortably. Zhongli reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. He gets a squeeze in response.

“Say, xiansheng,” Ajax starts. “Have you ever been able to do that before?” 

Zhongli looks at him, silently asking him to elaborate.

“Turn someone’s skin to gold, I mean. With something as simple as touch, too. Has that ever happened?” 

“No,” he answers simply, “I believe this was the first occurrence in my six thousand years of being alive.”

Ajax hums. “So I’m not like. Going to die or anything, right?”

“Why would you die, baobei?” Zhongli chuckles, “you act as if I injected poison into your bloodstream.”

Ajax lets out an indignant squawk. “I! Am still kind of new to the whole dating a god thing! I don’t know what special abilities you adepti hold. And I am a mere mortal, after all!”

The reminder has Zhongli looking at him with sudden sadness. “That you are.”

Ajax hums and offers a small, resigned smile before letting his eyes slide shut. He gave into the exhaustion, it seems.

He’s already dozing off, and his head is tipping slightly to the left. He’s all but slumped into the comforters beneath him, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath he takes. He’s mildly aware that he’s going to have to wake him to clean him up in a few minutes, though, but he allows his lover to rest for a moment. The whirring void in his chest— the one that constantly reminded him of his lost power— finally, finally settles.

Zhongli watches with fascination as the human in front of him continues to glow. The gold is gone, though. Zhongli has shifted back into his mortal form and skin to skin contact no longer summons the bright golden light that was there before. 

Still, Ajax’s skin seems to glow a little brighter than usual. His cheeks are tinted pink and his lips are slightly parted, still plump and swollen from his bruising kisses. Zhongli swears he can see a light blue aura surrounding the lines of Ajax’s body. His chest fills with something warm and pleasant at the sight, thick like the syrup that runs through the veins of Liyue’s trees. It trickles throughout his entire body, down into his core, down his legs and to his arms. Zhongli no longer feels empty. He smiles fondly.

For those that live too long, the friends of days gone by and scenes from their adventures live on in their memories. As such, I have no regrets in meeting you, Ajax. Should the day ever come that we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories. 

Fanart #1

Fanart #2

Fanart #3

my twitter <3

[spencers-renaissance]

Foolishly, Completely Falling

Summary: Spencer declines to spend the night with Luke, but there's a reason for that, and things start to click into place when Spencer shows back up at his doorstep at 2am, hours after being dropped home.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, past toxic relationship, nightmares, est/dev relationship

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word count: 2.5k

Read on AO3

When Luke asks Spencer if he wants to stay the night for the first time, he isn’t as quick to agree like Luke expects. The TV is playing a game show on low volume and they’re lying comfortably together on the sofa, quietly enjoying one another’s company after a busy day. They’d had a lovely evening out at the Mexican restaurant Luke had managed to convince Spencer to try before a cuddle and far too much making out on the sofa, so he’s feeling pretty good when he whispers the question into his boyfriend’s ear. Instead of the excited agreement he expects, though -- after all, the first night in the same bed with a new partner is always exhilarating -- Spencer freezes. 

“Hey,” Luke says, tone quickly sobering up. He shifts a little to get a better look at his boyfriend’s face, worried he’d said the wrong thing. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. We can just cuddle a little longer and then I’ll drive you home, yeah? Whatever you want.”

The kind voice he uses seems to slowly shake Spencer out of his frozen trance, gradually pulling himself up from the quicksand of his thoughts to respond to Luke. “No, I want to,” he explains slowly, thankful Luke is so patient when he tries to articulate complicated feelings. “There’s just… it’s because-- I don’t know how to tell you.” He sighs in defeat as he fails to tell his boyfriend how he feels, slumping down a little as he relaxes his previously stiffened muscles, collapsing into the warmth and safety of Luke’s chest. 

“You don’t have to justify it, Spencer,” Luke says earnestly, running his hands up and down Spencer’s arms gently as his face contorts with worry, a small sense of relief coming from the feeling of his boyfriend physically relaxing under his touch. He can’t help but feel a sinking pit of fear in his stomach that maybe he’s made a massive misstep, maybe Spencer isn’t as into this as he is, maybe there’s something really, really wrong.

Instead of voicing his concerns, though, he simply revels in the moment: Spencer’s head on his chest, his body flush against his own as their breathing syncs and they take in the last few moments of peace before the world switches back on and they have to part ways. 

If only he could stop his tumbling mind and enjoy it properly. 

★

Spencer seems mostly recovered from the awkward moment by the time they clamber into Luke’s car to drive him back home. He’s barely switched the engine on before Spencer is telling him about the technology of contactless keys and how they were invented, the dangers they present to society as well as the vulnerability they have to hacking before going on a tangent about a factory in Ireland that accidentally discovered a serious technological advancement. He’s chattering away happily in the passenger seat, and the tension Luke still holds in his shoulders dissipates as he listens to him ramble about things he cares about. 

It’s hard to focus on the road, really, when Spencer chooses to be so utterly adorable. He can’t keep his eyes off him when he’s passionately lecturing somebody about something everyone else finds insignificant or confusing and he finds endlessly fascinating. The team makes fun of him constantly for the way he stares at his boyfriend, and he’s not overly fond of the new nickname ‘moon eyes’ that he can’t seem to shake, but it won’t stop him from appreciating Spencer’s knowledge, making sure he knows Luke supports him no matter what. He knows that he gets shut down far too often, that people appreciate him for his intellect only when it’s valuable to him, and he’ll be damned if he ever makes him feel that way. 

He listens dutifully the whole drive back to Spencer’s apartment, managing to drive safely despite the distraction, and he can’t suppress the laugh at the surprised look colouring Spencer’s face once he sees they’ve arrived. He goes into a little bubble when he’s info-dumping, only coming out of it when there’s a significant change in his environment, but Luke can’t stop the fondness from spreading through his body as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen Spencer make that face. 

“We’re here,” Spencer observes, a slightly sheepish look spreading across his features. 

Luke absolutely cannot accept that so he leans across the console to press a deep and loving kiss to his lips, startling Spencer out of his embarrassment as he kisses back with just as much vigour. “You want me to walk you up?” Luke asks as he pulls away, bringing a hand to Spencer’s face to gently brush a few curls off his forehead.

“I’m good,” Spencer smiles, looking adoringly at Luke. If he was a more acrimonious man he’d be annoyed that everyone misses the matching looks Spencer sends his way, but there’s something special about them being just for him, like there’s a little bit of him he gets to keep just for himself. He’ll take that over Spencer getting teased even more any day. 

“Okay, baby.” He leans in to give him another kiss, quickly this time, before leaning up to peck his forehead, too. “You sleep well. If we’re not called in tomorrow I’ll swing by and we can do something together, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Spencer says softly. He puts his hand on top of Luke’s and caresses his knuckles gently, and for a second Luke is convinced he’s about to say something but he decides against it, settling on a soft smile before he’s clumsily climbing out of the car and walking towards the elevator into the building. 

The shy wave Spencer gives him just as the elevator doors close is enough to keep his heart warm through winter. 

★

Luke heads straight to bed as soon as he gets back home, switching off all the lights and getting ready in the bathroom before slipping between the sheets. It’s barely 11 but he’s exhausted from a busy day at work followed by the date he’d had with Spencer and he can feel the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. He’d hoped that he would be cuddled against a warm body tonight, and Spencer’s absence makes the bed feel so cold, even with Roxy warming his feet. 

Eventually, he manages to slip off to sleep, though, because he’s woken up not long after by Roxy leaping off the bed and whining at his bedroom door, startling him awake. “Roxy?” he asks, immediately on high alert. “What’s wrong, girl?” He sleepily pushes the covers off him, exposing himself to the frigid air of his apartment as he contemplates reaching for his gun when he hears it. There’s a tentative knock at the door, probably not the first, far too quiet to have woken him up if he hadn’t had Roxy. He jumps into action and pulls a t-shirt on as he walks to his front door, flicking on the lights as he goes, not wanting to trip over anything in the dark. 

It’s Spencer. He’s standing there looking nothing short of distraught as he wrings his hands nervously in front of him, that sheepish, embarrassed look Luke had been so desperate to kiss away earlier returned in full force. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking close to tears. “I just, I didn’t know where to go… usually I go to JJ’s but Henry and Michael are staying with Penelope tonight so she and Will could have a proper date night again and I didn’t want to interrupt but I didn’t want to be alone so I thought that maybe… maybe it would be okay if I came to see you, but I’m sorry if--”

“Hey,” Luke gently intercepts Spencer’s rambling with a careful hand on his waist and a step closer. “Why don’t you come in?”

It’s a bit of a shock to see his boyfriend on his doorstep only hours after he’d dropped him off, especially since he’s clearly in quite a state, a very different Spencer to the one who had kissed him deeply and waved him goodbye earlier in the evening, but Luke doesn’t want to do another thing until Spencer is happy again, feeling safe and comforted. He’s going to try damn hard to do that for him. 

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he apologises again, voice tight and anxious, eyes glassy as he follows him inside and hesitantly sits next to him on the sofa. “I should have asked before turning up here and I’m sure I woke you up. God, I’m such an idiot sometimes, I should just--”

“Spencer,” Luke says, voice a little louder to cut over Spencer’s panicked word vomit. “You are always welcome here. No matter what, okay? You don’t have to be afraid to come here, ever. I’m your boyfriend, I want to take care of you.”

“Really?” he asks, looking almost floored at Luke’s words.

“Really.” Luke promises, reaching over to gently wipe a spilled tear from Spencer’s cheekbone. “If I was upset, wouldn’t you feel the same way.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in understanding as he nods vigorously, causing Luke to smile fondly.

 “Now. What’s going on, baby? Did something happen?”

“Um,” Spencer hesitates, simultaneously not knowing how to properly voice his feelings and afraid of how Luke might react to them. Luckily, Luke knows how to be patient with Spencer, waiting quietly as he traces patterns on his forearm. “You know how earlier I said I did want to stay here but I couldn’t?”

Luke hums. “I do, yes.”

“Well, it’s because I was scared.”

Luke’s finger pauses for a short second in surprise before continuing its path, trying to convey his non-judgement. “What of, sweetheart?” he asks, praying that he wasn’t about to say him. 

“The last time I shared a bed with someone, he wasn’t nice to me,” Spencer confesses, looking into Luke’s eyes briefly, long enough only for Luke to pick up on the intense vulnerability swimming in his pupils. “I get… really bad nightmares. And my ex, the one I told you about, George?” He waits for Luke’s acknowledging nod before continuing. “He got… angry. I disturbed his sleep and he yelled a lot before breaking up with me.”

Luke nods slowly, finally understanding the situation. “And you were afraid that the same thing would happen with me?” he asks gently, not judging Spencer for his fear at all and hoping he can see that in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking down at his twiddling fingers for a long moment before finally looking back at Luke, tears gathering in his eyes again. “I’m sorry, I should have trusted you.” 

“Oh, Spencer,” he soothes calmly, gathering him up into a hug and carding his fingers through Spencer’s curls in just the way he knows he likes. “You can’t control a fear like that. It’s a natural reaction to be afraid of repeating a previous experience, especially if that event was upsetting or traumatic.”

“I know,” he mutters miserably, face wedged close into Luke’s neck. “I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “Is that what made you come over tonight? You had a nightmare?” He feels Spencer nod and his heart breaks. His boyfriend has been silently suffering through these awful nightmares alone, all because some asshole had broken up with him for something he couldn’t control. “I’m sorry, Spence. Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer shakes his head, as he pulls his face away from Luke’s neck. “I’ve tried that but it doesn’t work,” he frowns. “It just makes me relive it and the anxiety gets worse. It’s better if I just try and acknowledge them before moving past them.”

“Whatever works for you, baby,” Luke says. “Now, how about we get you changed into some pajamas again and you can come and stay with me tonight. I just want to be here for you, Spencer, comfort you if you have a nightmare, hold you even if you don’t. Nothing will happen if you do have one, alright? Except you being able to avoid travelling across town at 2am to seek some comfort, because I’ll be right next to you, cuddles at the ready.”

“You promise?” Spencer asks hopefully, finally seeming to relax a little. 

“I swear on my life,” Luke grins, before pressing a chaste kiss to Spencer’s lips and standing up. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.” 

Spencer’s wearing a soft t-shirt already but Luke demands he change into one of his own, claiming he wants him to be as comfortable as possible, but they both know he just can’t get enough of Spencer in his own clothes. It feels like an extra layer of protection Luke can wrap around him, keep him safe and warm in his clothing, protect him from anything formidable, including his own mind. “It smells of you,” he smiles approvingly as soon as it’s settled over his shoulders, too loose for his smaller frame. 

“Well, baby, you’re gonna love cuddling with me in my bed then,” Luke winks. “I’m not sure anywhere else could possibly smell more like me.” He switches off the lights in the house and calls Roxy back to bed, before slipping underneath the duvet, which is much more pleasurable this time, Spencer curled up against his side as Luke wraps a comforting arm around his waist. 

He savours Spencer’s satisfied sigh as he curls up tighter, pressing as close to Luke as possible; his clingy nature is one of the things he loves most about him. There’s nothing Spencer likes more than climbing into Luke’s lap or laying across him on the sofa, holding his hand in public or pressing himself as close as possible until Luke gets the hint and wraps an arm around his waist. He loves being held, which works out well because Luke isn’t sure he likes anything more than holding him, drinking in the comfort that comes from the closeness, the inexplicable feeling that is being Spencer Reid’s boyfriend.  

“Thank you, Luke,” Spencer whispers, voice clearly showing how drained and tired he is, but he sounds relaxed and comfortable, and that’s what matters most.

“Anytime, baby,” he whispers back, smile playing over his lips as it always seems to do when he’s around Spencer. “You sleep now. You’re safe, I’ll be here.” 

“I know.” Spencer’s whisper is even quieter this time as his breaths even out and his muscles relax slightly, and Luke has never envied his boyfriend’s eidetic memory more. If he could bottle this exact moment -- Spencer slowly falling asleep on him, trusting him enough to stay no matter what happens, the warmth and comfort of the embrace -- he’d never stop playing it over, a personal paradise just for the two of them recorded in his mind forever. 

Just having this moment, though, having this memory all for himself, will do Luke just fine. 

@gxenbev

[f0rever15elf]

Can I Call?

Pairing:  Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x gn!reader Word count: 1,390 Rating: T  Warnings: Fluffy Frankie, a little swearing, no beta (If i slipped up on the gn bit, let me know so I can fix it. I’ve read this 4 times so my eyes very well may have missed something)

Summary: It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from Frankie, so when his name flashes on your screen, there is no telling what it could possibly mean. 

A/N: This little fic was inspired by @lose-eels​ and this post. I love me some awkward and gentle Frankie. He’s so cute. 

Masterlist  |  Ao3

“Another day, another dollar,” you sigh, collapsing into bed after finishing your nightly routine. “I need to do SOMETHING to shake things up one of these days. I’m losing my mind like this.” The light from your phone screen turning on draws your attention, eyebrow arched at the text message notification. “Frankie? The heck does he need so late?” You weren’t prepared for the cuteness when you opened the message.

‘Hey, I miss you. Been thinking about you a lot lately.’ Smiling like a fool at your screen, you quickly type out a reply.

‘Miss you too. We need to see each other again soon.’

You had known Frankie for years, since before he left to join the military. Since before he had his first child. The two of you were usually pretty decent at staying in touch, but recently things had fallen off. It was no fault of either of you, you were both just adults who led busy lives, especially with his new baby. He had remembered to send you a picture of her, and you had it saved in your phone. She looked so much like him, it warned your heart. The phone buzzes in your hand again and you slide the screen open.

‘Tomorrow? Coffee at Reyes’?’

“He knows me so well,” you giggle, typing back.

‘Sounds good. Let’s meet around 9. Crowd is a lot smaller then. I can’t wait to see you.’

And so the back and forth continues for another good hour or so, the conversation veering off in all kinds of directions. You learned he had divorced the mother of his child, learned he had ended up turning to coke to cope with the PTSD his time in service had left him with, learned he had been working on getting clean after having his license thrown under review. It had only been about two years since you had last spoken to him, save the picture of his baby girl, but the way he was describing things made it feel like so much longer. Eventually, you start to struggle with keeping your eyes open, deciding to send him a goodnight message. A few moments later, you get one final message from him, barely awake enough to open it.

‘Fuck, can I call you for like two seconds to say goodnight? Is that weird? I’m going to do it I don’t care’

Not a moment after you have finished reading the text, Frankie’s name and that goofy picture you took with him a few years ago flashes on your screen. Suddenly wide awake, you slide the screen to answer it.

“Hey there, Frankie,” you whisper, as if trying to not wake someone else up. He sighs your name when you answer, and it sends a tingle through your whole being.

“I just, fuck, I couldn’t wait till tomorrow to hear your voice again.” Your heart stutters in your chest at his confession. You would be lying to say that you hadn’t missed that voice, gentle and soft, always with that little hint of mischief.

“I’ve missed you too, Francisco.” You settle yourself back against your pillows, smiling up at the ceiling as you listen to him.

“Yeah? You have?” His voice perks up, and you can imagine the excited light in his eyes. “It’s just...it’s been so long and something was just telling me I needed to reach out tonight, I know I don’t do it nearly enough.”

“Frankie, calm down, it’s alright. We’re adults, we get busy. I’m just happy to hear your voice again is all. I’ve missed it.”

“I’ve missed yours too,” he whispers, and if you weren’t so tired, you’d swear you almost hear a longing in his voice. “I’m...I’m not bothering you...am I? You’re whispering.”

“Huh? Oh, no, you’re not. I guess I’m just conditioned to be quiet at night.” You sit up, pulling your knees to your chest as best you can. “If you’re asking if someone is gonna beat your ass for calling their boo at 11 at night, don’t worry, you’re in the clear.” His laugh in your ear is one of the most beautiful sounds you have heard in a very long time. It makes you feel like you’re floating, and you can’t help but giggle along with him.

“Good, good. That would make tomorrow much more awkward.” You can hear the apprehension in his voice, like there is something he’s wanting to say that he just can’t bring himself to. So you decide to ease him into it.

“Morales, I’ve known you for almost a decade, and you’re as much an open book over the phone as you are in person. Where’s your mind at right now? I can tell something is bothering you.” The other end of the line is quiet, and you fear you might have lost him for a moment till you hear shuffling and what sounds like a car door closing.

“I miss you, Sol.” The tender way his old nickname for you pours from his lips has your heart nearly leaping from your chest. “I miss being next to you, relaxing with you, laughing with you. I miss...us.”

“Frankie, there was never an us…” Your voice is small as you hug your legs. “We were two friends, we were never an us. You never looked at me that way.”

“Sol, I looked at you that way all the time...it was just...never while you were looking.” You hear a car engine start in the background. Where is he going? Your pulse races in your veins. Had you really been so oblivious that you never noticed him looking at you in any way other than a friend? “I didn’t want to push things, is all. You were happy and I was happy and it just felt right. Then you started dating Brent and I thought you just...didn’t like me the way I liked you. Then I got Marcy pregnant and I just...everything got complicated and it’s been on my mind for weeks, Sol. Weeks. Ever since I got back from South America. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and I just-”

“Come over, Frankie,” you cut off his rambling. “Screw waiting for tomorrow, I want to see you now.” Frankie splutters into the phone, trying to make a coherent reply, and you hear the sound of his engine revving through the earpiece as he sets you to speaker phone. “I never saw you looking at me, I never knew. I didn’t want to make things...weird. I didn’t wanna make things hard for you since you were going to get deployed…”

“Santa María,” he mutters breathlessly. “A couple of fools, we are.”

“A right matched set,” you agree, laughing lightly. “I’ve missed you too, Frankie. I still have that goofy picture of us with Santiago and Ben on my nightstand. Had a couple of dreams about you too, since you’ve been away. Keeping me up at night without even talking to me,” you laugh, matched by him.

“Well, I may just be continuing that keeping you up streak.” You grin at his snarky reply, jumping out of bed when you hear tires in your driveway.

“Promise?”

“Oh absolutely.” You hear the slamming of a car door as you tug your sleep shirt over your head, one of the ones he had left at your place years ago when he was home on leave, and bolt for the door. Knuckles get one tap on the door before you are throwing it open to see your Frankie standing there, scruffy and sleepy looking, that baseball cap you got him when he first deployed pulled down over low over his eyes. He lowers the phone from his ear, flashing you his sheepish smile. “Hey there, Sol. Long time no see.”

Instantly, your arms are around his waist, burying your face against his neck. God, after all this time, he still smells the same. Like aftershave and axle grease. Oh, how you have missed that smell. His arms wrap around you, holding you as close to him as he possibly could, reveling in your warmth. It feels like home. When you finally break the hug, you take his hand and pull him inside, sleep long forgotten. As he follows you to the bedroom, an amused smile crosses his face.

“Is that my shirt?”

~~~~

Sol translates to Sun

Tags:  Permanent: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​, @tangledlove27​, @paintballkid711​ Taglist is open! Requests are open!