#I love reading her notes whenever she betas my shit :'))))))

[moonlight-prose]

accidentally staring a bit too long at their lips w/ fritz bestie please i am begging he has kissable lips 😩

EARTH ANGEL

a/n: because manny jacinto is finally showing up my dash constantly, i felt like i had to write something for the one and only fritz. this is courtesy of us just screaming about him. a nonstop convo about how beautiful he is. also cause top gun summer 3.0 is necessary when the weather hits 90 and you want to crawl out of your skin. this is unedited and beta read by you babes.

summary: what does it mean to belong to someone? to be stuck in their gravitational pull, to feel that cosmic connection that makes breathing difficult when they were away.

OR a dance, a song, and the aspect of forever all leads to one conclusion. falling in love with fritz was inevitable.

word count: 3.2k+

pairing: bill ‘fritz’ avalone x f!reader

warnings: so much fluff it’s scary, romance, the hopefulness of two hopeless romantics, fluff, flirty vibes from our man fritz, he's obsessed it's so cute, the good gooey feelings that make people do stupid things for love.

Celebratory cheers bounced off the walls as you did your best not to get knocked on your ass. People crowded the bar, beer in their hands and requests for more flying off their lips. And you did what you could to sink into the corner. Away from those that were already on the road to slurring their words given the demeanor of the setting. People were floating on cloud nine. Over the damn moon as the mission they stressed over suddenly became a success.

The condensation dripped onto your hand, slipping down your wrist when you took a sip. You should have wiped it away on your sundress, but the scene before you distracted every one of your senses. Rooster was three beers in, a shot of something amber beside him, as he sang at the top of his lungs. His fingers danced over the keys.

Surprising given that he was tipping over the piano, his eyes glazed and gleaming. A group of pilots you tried to make sense of practically fell beside him, their voices shouting above the others. The serenity of bliss drawn on their faces. You figured they were the ones who'd accomplished the job.

"Can I buy you a drink honey?" The drunken slur of a pilot tripping his way towards you nearly threw you off, but with a tip of your beer and a lazy smile you watched him accept defeat. His eyes already set to a redhead seated at the bar - her gaze locked on him with a hunger you only felt for one man.

"You shouldn't hide away," Phoenix called, sliding into the corner with you, two beer necks wrapped in each hand. Another round to kill the stress of the day—to remember they weren't just pilots.

You grinned. "Who says I'm hiding?"

A quirk of her eyebrow and a murmured mhm called you out faster than you anticipated. Hiding wasn't the prerogative. If you had another beer in your system, you'd be sitting by Rooster attempting to match his note for one of your own. But celebration wasn't to be had if the one you were waiting for hadn't waltzed through the door yet. His friends trailing behind him, wolf whistles traded for smirks from pretty women at the bar.

"He'll be here soon," she said, nodding towards the door. "Mav kept them longer than usual."

"Who says I'm waiting for someone?"

She laughed, a shrug thrown your way as she meandered through the mess of rowdy pilots. "Who says you're not?"

Any other pilot would have figured you wanted away from the noise, any of them wouldn't have seen how your eyes fell to the door whenever it swung open. But Phoenix...she could see the faint emotion that shone in your eyes. She saw how you laughed a bit harder in his presence, how he actually talked longer, how your hands brushed when you thought no one was looking. You were an open book, and Phoenix was rapidly turning the pages to see how this particular story came to an end.

"Phoenix—"

The call fell on deaf ears as she rejoined her boys. A seat procured for her by the pool table within seconds. They may give her shit left and right, but you caught the way respect bled from their hearts when she entered the scene. A comradery that left even you breathless.

They'd die for each other.

They nearly had.

You nearly wondered what that felt like: being so in tune with someone your whole body lit up when they entered a room. Yet the echo of the door swinging open—a cheer of a voice you recognized - yanked the breath from your lungs. Seconds passed like hours, and the hair on the back of your neck stood to attention, as you turned. Already searching the crowd for that someone—the other half of your cosmic connection.

If you had a favorite color before catching sight of his eyes, you couldn't remember it. The inclination of your favorite song was diminished the second his laughter fell upon your senses. You suddenly couldn't recall a day where you didn't breathe for him, where your life didn't hold meaning unless you shared a smile and said hello. He'd become the sun, and you found you didn't mind being dragged into his gravitational pull. As long as you could orbit around him without end.

"Penny!" Harvard yelled over the noise of Rooster doing encore number three of Great Balls of Fire. "Three beers please and thank you!"

You smiled into your beer, the bitter flavor flooding your taste buds as a third member of the dynamic duo appeared in their midst. His head turning, eyes flicking through the throng of people, as he searched rapidly. He smiled at Yale, nodded his head at a woman who rammed into him, and finally caught your gaze with a deep exhale.

And suddenly...you could breathe properly again.

He mumbled his farewells, snuck the beer off the counter, and slipped quietly towards you.

People believed he remained silent because Harvard and Yale were loud enough for him. You found he had plenty to say. As long as someone was willing to listen. If it were up to you, he'd never stop talking. Simply so you could hear the deep echo of his voice on a constant loop. Your favorite tune, ever since he caught your eye at basic training. The question of an empty chair beside you suddenly turning into so much more.

"You're still in your flight suit," you said, hoping the light airiness of your voice was enough to avoid thinking about how your skin turned hot the second he showed up.

When it came to Fritz...you became aware of yourself in a way that didn't exist. How you moved, how you spoke.

Before him you were in darkness. He simply figured out how to turn on the switch and allow light in.

"Yeah," he let out another breath, sipping at his beer. You tracked the drip of condensation that fell on his neck, your stomach twisting at the sight. "We got the ritual speech of why we didn't go. You know the one."

"Ah. The I'm sorry but you're still a great pilot speech."

He smiled and the ground vanished beneath you. "That exact one actually."

"I'm sure he...added a cherry on top of the bullshit."

Fritz choked, laughter spilling from his lips like a contagion you longed to catch. When he felt joy, you partook. When he laughed, you couldn't help yourself. He was an addiction. The reason why you even came to San Diego in the first place.

Whether he knew that was a different story altogether.

"I'm guessing you made it out early." His eyes fell to your white sundress, red flowers sprinkled along the near sheer fabric. "Nice dress," he mumbled into his drink, eyes a bit darker than before as they trailed upwards, stopping briefly at the way it was pulled into a tie above your breasts.

You'd done it into a mess of a bow, hoping the look didn't resemble too much of a present. His gaze barely came up to your eyes before falling again, transfixed by the sight. And you found you didn't mind if he unwrapped you with the same glee as a kid on his birthday. You wanted him to.

"Thanks," you replied softly, the quick echo of your heart deafening against the noise of the bar.

Rooster's name was being chanted like a prayer, his body shimmying and swaying as he began to start up another round of the same song. People were more than happy to sing along with him. Until the familiar hum of the jukebox prickled in the air, a slow song blaring from the speakers. You leaned up on your toes, eyes catching the sight of Hangman appearing from the back of it with a glare on his face. His middle finger directed towards a half drunk Rooster; who met him with a finger of his own.

"Serves Rooster right," you began, turning back to Fritz with a flutter of your skirt. "That would have been number four."

He snorted. "Only Rooster wouldn't get hit for that."

"Oh I'm pretty sure Hangman was five seconds away from it."

The Penguins crooned softly as people began to calm slightly, dispersing to tables and disappearing out the back towards the firepit. And you stood there silently with Fritz, your beer now tepid and disgusting. If you had the chance, you'd have asked him to head out to the firepit, but he turned back towards the bar. Probably for one more drink.

"Right." You pulled at the skirt of your dress.

You wanted to play it back, say something entirely different. Ask him to join you by the fire pit with another beer in his right hand and your palm in his left. But the words were stuck like molasses in the back of your throat, fighting against release. Phoenix was begrudgingly dancing with Bob, her lips refusing a smile that you knew lingered beneath the surface. And Fanboy sat beside Payback, crooning the lyrics as best they could.

The temptation to join them pulled at your chest, an echo of that yearning for comradery appearing again. Perhaps if you asked Fritz he'd say yes. You could follow their lead, enjoy the night before you went your separate ways once more.

You could pretend to be whole for one night.

And life would feel worth living.

"Hey Avalone—" You were stopped short by the sight of his hand stretched towards yours, his lips in a small smile that screamed hope. That pleaded for an answer to this unspoken question.

Like the rest of them...you replied silently. With the belief that words simply weren't enough in this situation.

Slipping your hand into his, you allowed him to lead you towards the empty spot near Phoenix and Bob. Dazed and slightly worried that the singular beer you drank was affecting you more than it should. Even as the actual reason had your hand clasped tight. You wanted to ask what effect he held over you, what intangible bond he created without your knowledge. It might give you an explanation as to why you felt this way: stuck in a dream filled haze, with only his light to guide you out.

And maybe one day Fritz would tell you he gripped you so tight for fear of him tripping. Maybe he'd finally explain why he told you so much, why his body buzzed the second you walked in a room. Maybe he'd tell you that he suspected he loved you after watching you fly a jet, but knew he loved you when you nearly toppled him over playing volleyball on the beach.

But for now...he expressed what he could without words. Afraid that if he opened his mouth, he'd say the wrong ones.

With a swift turn, he tugged you closer on unsteady feet. A full smile pulling at his lips when you grasped his shoulders for balance.

He wouldn't let you fall. Not here...not in the sky as your wingman, and certainly not out of the love you felt for him. People said this emotion was fleeting. A lost fictitious hope that merely existed with words on a page, but there was no denying how his heart grew warmer when you were near. How he knew he could speak to you for hours at a time, yet never run out of things to say.

You were it.

That indescribable thing no one could give a name to.

"I didn't take you for the dancing type," you joked, swallowing around your nerves that jumped across your skin.

He stepped closer, his arm slipping around your waist. The way your chest hitched didn't go unnoticed by him; although rather than mention it, he put you out of your misery and kept speaking.

"I'm not."

"Let me guess...it's the song?"

He shrugged, swaying you into a gentle step you could follow with ease. "Well...it's not not the song."

A quick glance over told you that the Daggers were eyeing the both of you with great interest. As if you and Fritz were the entertainment they'd been searching for all night. The turning point of a love story they'd been a part of for years. The page sat ready to be turned, the final line of the novel practically burning a hole through the back cover, yet you couldn't read what it said.

"So it's...only the song?"

"No." If it were any other night, you'd be sharing a plate of nachos at a booth somewhere in the back. He'd be three stories deep into a conversation, and you'd be falling a bit harder the longer you listened.

Tonight however, he seemed—nervous.

"No?" You wanted to pry open his thoughts, see what he believed this was—what you were to him.

"If it wasn't the song? If I asked you because of something else, what would you do?" His hand clutched yours a bit tighter, the familiar callous on the base of his wrist helped keep you grounded.

"Depends on what it is." You sucked in a breath. "Will I...I've been thinking—"

"Yes?"

Your eyes met his softened gaze, the echo of an emotion you couldn't place shone in the deep brown. And you wanted to beg him to explain it to you. To tell you everything he'd never said out loud, in the hopes they mimicked what you held near and dear to your heart every day.

"Ever since I've known you...um..." Getting it out felt as if you were attempting to delicately attempt a surgery - prying them free from your chest with a chisel. "Actually since the day we met...fuck...it's not easy to say."

He tugged you a bit closer as he turned. "I know." He smiled, eyes falling to your lips, the curve of their shape, how they formed around his name. "It's not just the song. It's you."

Breathing no longer existed as the beat of your heart went haywire. Could he feel the pulse of it on your wrist? The way it bent and twisted as if leaping from your chest. You wanted to respond, tell him all the things that went unspoken, but once he found his words...they refused to go unheard.

"It's always been you. I should have told you before tonight. Believe me—I wanted to. You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you." He let out a soft breathy laugh and you could practically taste his words on your tongue. "And I think you knew."

"Will..." Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your bottom lip, eyes falling to his as the words you longed to hear finally left them.

"I love you." The sting of tears burned your eyes, your hand clutching his shoulder harder as he kept going. "Since the first day." He laughed nervously and an image of him, you, and a house flashed through your mind. "Well actually. The day you knocked me on my ass playing volleyball is when I knew for sure."

"Yeah?" you murmured, fighting back the stream of tears.

He seemed to catch how the light illuminated them, his hand slipping from yours to cup your cheek. "Yeah. Only my girl could be that competitive."

His girl.

The story was written the day you greeted him with a smile. The ending inscribed into your futures with permanent ink, carved into the rock of your headstones. And you could see it now—the familiar dip in the road that matched his perfectly. Falling in love with Fritz was always in the cards. A play you had no choice but to make.

He was your forever the second you shared the same oxygen.

"Fritz..."

He smiled, thumb running across the apple of your cheek. "Yeah baby?"

Chills ran down your spine as heat spilled into your stomach. The polarity of the two nearly toppled you to the ground, but he held you tight. Unwilling to let you go.

The song was slowly coming to the final chorus—the noise of the bar didn't register to your ears anymore as you hung onto his every word. Desperate for him to say those three words over and over and over. Until he lost all the breath in his lungs.

"I hope you know I love you."

His lips pulled into a smile that held your attention in its grasp. What you wouldn't give to see that every morning and night. To be the sole reason why something so beautiful appeared. He smiled and you felt the gravity beneath your feet give way, your stomach bursting to life with a flurry of butterflies.

"I should have said it before this mission. Or even a year ago. But I was scared you didn't feel the same wa—"

With a soft chuckle, he dipped down slightly, catching your lips with his softly. And every thought, every explanation you could give him, died on your tongue. He was gentle with you, as if this was a new version of the dance you'd shared throughout the years. The steps, familiar yet foreign enough to trip you up. It wasn't until you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, your hand finding its way to the hair on the base of his neck, did the hesitation fall away.

He itched to haul you to his chest and properly kiss you. But the burn of eyes prickled along his back. There was an audience, witnesses to the first step into your future, and Fritz felt himself tense slightly. If he had a choice, he'd show you how long he wanted this. How he ached for this.

He'd make up for lost time.

The song filtered to an end, a new one he couldn't place starting up. He refused to pull away.

With a sigh, you melted into his hold, a noise echoing in the back of your throat as his tongue slid along yours. The tang of his beer mixing with yours. He kissed you with the promise of more, the knowledge that tonight you'd take his hand and follow him home. You felt his hand bunch the skirt at your back, fingers digging into your waist, and you moaned softly—desperate for his skin to sear yours.

"Get a room, lovebirds!" Hangman shouted, leaning against the jukebox beer in hand. Yet he let the quarter in his hand slide through the slot, another love song clicking to life as he complained with a smile.

Fritz jolted back, his lips swollen and vibrating. He could still taste you on his tongue, still hear the echo of your moan in his head. You looked dazed, almost lovestruck. And suddenly he understood what it really meant to be hungry.

"Remind me to thank Hangman later," he mumbled against your lips, addicted to the way they curved beneath his.

"He'll take credit for this."

He shrugged. "I'm okay with that."

You locked your other arm around his neck, nose brushing his as you eyed his lips. The red stain on his cheeks had your heart skipping as many beats as it could. What you wouldn't give to have a picture of him like this. Stuck in a haze of love that you put him in.

With a stupefied grin, you felt him start to lead you through the next dance. The steps perfectly in tune with his—as it was always meant to be. "So am I."

[scekrex]

TW(If you dont want to do it it's completely fine)

Can you do a adam x male reader where the reader is depressed because his life when he was living was shit and he thought it would be better but it still haunts him, and he starts to date adam and a few months into dating Adam saw reader SH and gets all sad but becomes more protective of reader and explains to reader how much he loves him and he bandages reader and they cuddle together(I love your writing BTW, you don't have to do this if you think it's shit)

I absolutely do not think it's shit, I hope I did it justice - as a person who suffers from depression myself this kinda is/was my view on the world. Really hope it's to your liking :3

Burning, I feel it too

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt/angst, suicidal thoughts, self harm

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

With him around, heaven seemed brighter. With him around your past life felt less heavy, the burdens you carried were easier to lift and he seemed to bring a reason to all of existence.

But when Adam wasn’t around for a couple hours, the world turned dark again, like he was purposely taking all the bright colors and the joyful emotions with him when he left. The burdens turned insanely heavy again, unable for you to lift, let alone carry on your shoulders and every reason that caused you to take step after step was gone. Adam knew your life had been a dark pit of hopelessness and tiredness. There had been nothing that held you, what was holding you now? A single person and that person wasn’t even yourself how it should have been. It was Adam.

Heaven, the paradise of afterlife that everybody dreamed of, not you though. You just wanted to rest, not continue to suffer above earth in another world. You wanted peace and quiet, eternal rest. But that had been denied, not only by God, but also by Adam. The first man was worried about you and while others thought of it as cute, you felt like a burden to him by making him worry so much. He cared, that you were aware of, he let you not only hear you about it, no, he also showed you that he cared about you. And that caused the clouds that covered your view to lift temporarily. But once Adam left - even if it was just the room - the clouds came back, painting the worlds in black, white and gray again until he came back.

Extermination days were the worst, not only was your partner gone the entire day, no, he was also at risk of getting injured, maybe even killed. Who was there to promise you that Adam would make it out alive? And what would you do if Adam wouldn’t make it out? If Lute would come back alone, nothing but his halo in her hand that she would hand over to you as proof. Would it hurt? Would it hurt worse than the pain you inflict on yourself?

You flicked the lighter on and for a short moment you watched the flame dance in front of your eyes, then you moved the lighter close to your thigh until the flame licked on your skin, the burn that followed felt save, it felt like coming home after a long trip, it welcomed you with open arms and you were so used to it that you closed your eyes and enjoy the silence the pain brought. That was a thing you had missed so much, the silence in your mind that pain brought with it whenever you invited it to visit you. You had been so lost in the quietness that you hadn’t heard the door to the bedroom slamming open. Your eyes cracked open when the lighter was harshly ripped from your trembling fingers, the usually so calming voice of your boyfriend was now the reason for you to flinch away from his body, “What the fuck are you doing?” He sounded mad and you hated the way anger made his voice sound. Why was Adam back already? Was it already that late, had you lost track of time again? Did it even matter if he was back earlier?

Paralyzed you watched as he pulled you off the bed, you weren’t reacting to his words at all, not because you didn’t want to, but because you found yourself unable to. The brunette pushed you flush against his body, you felt the soft golden feathers that wrapped around your nude body to shield you and just like before, there was silence in your head - not because of any pain, but because of Adam. Adam, who had returned the colors to your world, Adam, who was drowning you with his body warmth. “I don’t want to fucking lose you,” he mumbled against your head as he buried his face in your hair. He spun the both of you around slowly, then he let himself fall backwards onto the soft mattress of your shared bed, pulling you with him. “You can’t fucking leave me too, I- for fucks sake Y/N, you can’t fucking-” he interrupted himself and it was only then that you felt the salty tears that were streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t fucking want you to-” he tried again but failed yet again, a sob fell from his lips and you couldn’t help but hate your self for making him feel that way. Adam deserved better, you had tried to explain that to him ever since the both of you had started dating. Yet the brunette had always disagreed. “Please,” he whispered and his voice sounded so unusually broken it tore you apart from the inside. You hated the way it voice was able to sound so unstable, so broken, so sad. You hated that you had caused Adam to feel that way within seconds. “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, clearly out of words. You knew he wanted to scream and yell, that he wanted answers. And he knew screaming and yelling would only push you further away from him and that you’d give him answers once you were ready to. So he bit back all the questions he wanted to ask you, all the things he wanted to get off his chest and placed a soft kiss on your head instead. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” you whispered quietly and maybe, secretly, you hoped it had been too quiet for him to hear. But it hadn’t been, “You’re not, babes, you’ll never fucking be.” But the both of you knew that wasn’t true, that he was lying. You were not only ruining your own mental health but also his. It was only a matter of time until Adam would either drop you or fall into the same hole you were already sitting in.

[dawnagustd]

the misfit toymaker || myg

The queen has made her list and checked it twice. She’s visiting those who have been naughty, and punishing them in ways that are oh so nice.

- Part of the Unholy Night Series.     

➻ title: the misfit toymaker  ➻ pairing: toymaker!yoongi x f!reader  ➻ genre: fantasy | holiday | magic | smut  ➻ word count: 1.8k  ➻ rating: 18+   ➻ warnings: unprotected sex | infidelity | soft dom!yoongi | sub!reader | Sir kink | controlled orgasms | big dick!yoongi but wbk | slight edging | spitting/spit play | belly bulging | sex toys(swings, vibrators, suctions) | creampie | cum play | rough sex | light impact play | dirty talk | degradation | dungeons | bdsm | pet names | fingering | multiple orgasms | crying (the sexy kind) | rejection(i’m sorry) | impreg kink | suspension play | clit stimulation | oral sex(female receiving) | begging | overstimulation      ➻ author’s note: Part 3 has arrived. No lie this is one of my favs!! Once again, I won’t hold you. Thanks @taechwitaaah for beta reading and screaming with me. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as we did lol.

It wasn’t hard to locate your next stop. A toy store on Christmas Eve is like a flashing billboard sign. Especially when the only toymaker loves to burn the midnight oil.

Yoongi searches for any excuse not to go home to his estranged wife. The only reason they’re together is because of his kid, who just so happens to be one of Mr. Park’s pupils. 

He loves bringing smiles to all the youth’s faces, but Yoongi’s no saint. Mrs. Min wants nothing to do with her lowdown cheating spouse, and Yoongi couldn’t give a bigger shit.

He’s never been a monogamous man; whenever he finds a new playmate, the old one is no longer interesting. 

But you, however. You just might be his favorite. He couldn’t wait to drag you down to his dungeon of misfit toys and show you all of his erotic creations.

“Are you comfortable, doll?” he asks. “Your restraints aren’t too tight, are they?” 

You don’t hear him because your attention is set on the image of the toymaker’s veiny hand wrapped around his cock. He pleases himself while drinking in the sight of you, his delicate pink lips parted slightly as small, labored breaths slip past them. Each time his palm slides over his similarly textured shaft, arousal oozes from the tip. Suddenly, your mouth is dry, and the urge to fill it with–

“Hey. Eyes on me when I’m talking to you, beautiful.” 

He uses the other hand to lift your chin, gently demanding your undivided attention. The authority in his voice places you back in reality.

Your eyes wander up his figure, admiring his skin while getting drunk off of his touch. 

“Sorry about that, Sir.” You tug on the straps lightly to ensure they’re secure. “Yes. This feels nice.” 

Yoongi insisted on putting you in one of his many “swing sets” hanging from the ceiling. 

It’s thrilling being suspended feet in the air, your legs spread wide with your weight only supported by rope. Your wrists are bound also, leaving you entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. 

But mercy, is not a term the toymaker is familiar with.

“I promise you, doll. You’ll feel even better once I stuff my cock inside of you.” 

Yoongi spreads your folds and reveals your wetness. The cold dungeon air hits your center, intensifying your sensitivity.  

“Damn, you’re wet,” Yoongi comments.

“Make it wetter, Sir.” 

You respond with so much need that he can’t resist the temptation. He’d rather drag this out and keep you down here for as long as possible, but the growing urge to fuck you senseless is too demanding.

Yoongi leans forward and allows his spit to drip into your opening. He watches in awe as your cunt accepts it graciously. Using two of his lengthy digits, he enters your pussy and prepares you for his throbbing cock. 

“Fuck, Sir!”

Yoongi’s thumb rubs your clit while he fingers you slowly, relaxing you so he can continue to stuff your dripping crevice.

“Take one more for me, doll?”

On your command, he adds another finger. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers.

The room begins to fill with the lewd sounds of your squelching juices, gushing out of you and covering Yoongi’s hand and wrist. He twists and curls his digits inside of you, searching for the spot that’ll have you falling apart. You cry out for him once he finds it, and he responds with a cocky smirk, knowing he’s about to ruin you before he even fucks you.

“Sir.”

“Come if you need to, doll,” he says. “I won’t get mad at you.” 

His voice is so gentle and sweet, a contrast to the dark lust-drunk eyes staring at you.

You can feel your core tightening with each passing second. Moans leave your lips, but the pleasure is so intense you cannot hear how loud you are. Eventually, you have no other choice but to let go.

His fingers guide you through your orgasm while he praises you with the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. He bends down to suck your pulsing clit between his lips, and your mouth falls open. Nothing comes out; you’re just reacting on nerves. Your brain has yet to catch up with the moment.

You slump over once you’ve finally calmed down, but you’re only given a few seconds to recharge before Yoongi’s cock is teasing your entrance.

“You ready to tap out, doll?”

You shake your head.

“Please,” you beg. “Continue. This is light work for me, Sir. Do your worst.” 

The toymaker wipes the smirk off of your face with his thumb; you know you’re fucked but you still play along.

“I sure hope you know what you’re asking for, baby doll.”.

His cock enters you slowly, not stopping until he’s filled you with every inch. Your pussy constricts and he’s unable to move. You both struggle to adjust to the tight fit.

“How are you so fucking big?” 

“Maybe you just can’t take dick like you think you can, doll.” His tone is condescending, making your face heat up. “I prepped you and you’re still having a hard time. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Bullshit.”

You speak out of turn and earn yourself a slap on the thigh.

“Now, don’t get disrespectful, doll.”

You bite your tongue and settle into your position. When Yoongi starts moving, the fullness becomes more bearable. The sensitivity ebbs away, and pleasure replaces it. The chill in the room fades as your body begins to heat up, and your sweat does little to keep the feverish desire at bay.

“You’re still so tight,” he points out. “Let’s loosen you up, doll. This won’t do.” 

Yoongi surprises you when he grabs one of his little toys. He flips the little switch, making the object buzz in his hand. “This one’s going to fuck both of us up.”

He places the vibrator directly onto your clit, and instantly, you see stars.

“Fuck! Sir, I can’t!...” 

You beg him to turn the settings down, but Yoongi only chuckles.

“Baby doll, I really haven’t turned it on yet.” 

A press of a button, and it reveals another feature that has your mind scrambled within seconds. The suction pulses around your sensitive bundle of nerves, stimulating you in ways you’ve never even dreamed of.

Your babbling gets you mocked and teased by the toymaker. All while he’s still stuffing you with his cock.

“Look at my sweet little doll,” he tsks. “So confident in thinking she could handle my cock but can barely keep it together. The nerve; what were you trying to achieve, baby?”

As if you weren’t already a mess, he turns up the settings. If the entire town didn’t hear your scream, then the room has to be soundproof.

“I’m going to come!” 

You sob and tremble as your body dangles in the air. Yoongi’s thrusts send you flying, but the hold on your waist never allows you to slip through his fingers.

“Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do for me if I let you?” he grunts.

He intentionally touches your cervix, making your eyes roll back. You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he notices the outline of his dick each time he enters your guts.

“Anything, Sir,” you promise. “Please. Just let me come!” 

You aren’t sure what sound is filthier, the noises your cunt makes as your juices gush onto the floor, or Yoongi’s wet sticky sac slapping your ass with every impact.

“Well, when I fill this cunt… You better not spill a drop. Understand?”

“Okay, I won’t. Now, please.”

“I hear you, doll. I hear you.” 

But relief doesn’t come as quickly as you thought it would. He turns the toy to the highest setting, making you lose your mind in seconds. Yoongi doesn’t hold back. When your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, he keeps fucking you like you’re a rag doll, bouncing you up and down on his hard shaft.

“You feel so good, doll,” he growls, slowing his pace. “I should keep you all to myself and pump my cum into you every night.”

“Sir, fuck!”

You try to calm down but hearing his deep voice filled with lust makes you hotter.

“Ahh… You like that. You wanna get knocked up, huh?” 

His cock starts twitching inside of you at the thought.

“Please.” At this point, you can’t even recognize your voice, but you continue to fill his ears with everything he wants to hear. “Sir, fill my pussy. I promise I won’t spill any.”

This is probably the closest Yoongi has ever been to finding true love because the look he gives you tells it all. He’s never met anyone so perfect, so willing to accept him. His orgasm snatches him out of his reverie, reminding him of a reality he’ll have to face very soon.

A moment later, ropes of his warm cum paint your womb, drawing pleasant sighs from your lips.

“Goddamn it, doll,” he whispers while his cock slips out of you. “You’re a fucking slice of heaven, you know that?”

Yoongi uses his finger to stop the seeping cum from dripping to the floor. He pushes it back inside of you repeatedly until he’s satisfied. He lowers you and then carefully helps you out of the swing, so you don’t fall.

“You’re quiet, doll. Are you okay?” 

You don’t respond but Yoongi still takes your hand and guides you up the stairs. Your palm feels so warm wrapped in his, and he can’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

He takes one look at you and realizes he’s in deep shit.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

Doll. 

He thinks that name is perfect for you. You may be a goddess, but you’re so delicate and cute. He wants you. He wants to keep you to himself despite knowing that he can’t.

“I’m hungry.” He wasn’t expecting that reply, but he doesn’t mind treating you to dinner after the things you just allowed him to do to you. “I want something… Sweet.”

“Well, there is a bakery across the street. He’s closed, but I know him so he’ll—”

You’re already heading to the door before he can finish his sentence. Yoongi quickly grabs his coat so he can cover your body. However, you turn around and place a hand on his chest to stop him.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“You said you wanted to get something to eat.” 

Yoongi is slightly confused, but he laughs it off.

Those beautiful eyes stare into his soul, and he has no choice but to accept the fact that he’s whipped.

“Yeah… but not with you, hun.”

Your words leave him in shock, and he can only stand there frozen, watching you walk through the door and head over to his best friend’s store. The toymaker is heartbroken, and sad. But what can he say when this is how he carries on? You’ve got him, and you’ve gotten him good.

He laughs to himself, basking in the sweet smell of you that still lingers in the air.

“Damn, that was one wild sleigh ride.”

[mrsaltieri-real]

Partner in Crime (Victim!Mickey Altieri X Ghostface!Reader)

Reader is AFAB

Word count: 5.3k

Warning/s: ghostface!reader, “victim!mickey” (kinda not really though), blood, gore, gruesome murder descriptions, changes to canon scream 2 (obviously), violence, language, smut, p in v, blood kink, riding, choking, slight orgasm denial, teasing, biting, reader is bat shit crazy and so is Mickey, lying, deception, partners in crime (duh), etc

God this took me a long ass time but it’s worth it because I LOVE how it came out. Took a LOT of trial and error from my part trying to capture this just right but we finally got there and I can post this. I am so so excited about this fic.

Once again thank you to the gorgeous @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this for me and helping me with ideas to make this come out just right. Could NOT have done this without you Bex <3

On that note, LETS FUCKING GO.

“Who could be doing this?” Sidney mused quietly, elbow propped on the rustic wood of the bench she sat on, hand resting on her forehead. “I mean, how could this possibly be happening again?”

Derek sat beside her, hand rubbing small soothing circles into her back, Hallie looked at her sympathetically and Randy was gently biting at the loose skin of his thumb, eyes scanning the crowd. Mickey seemed to be in his own little world, gazing at the hubbub of cameramen and reporters bustling around the college square, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on your thigh. Your eyes were set on Sidney’s anxious face trying to resist the urge to smile at her fear, everything in her body language was communicating the tension and unease inside her.

All of this was way, way too easy. After discovering last year that the survivors of the Woodsbro massacre were attending Windsor, you’d found yourself intensely curious and decided to transfer there from your previous college. You’d easily managed to fit into their friend group within about a month of being there and eagerly put your plan in motion.

It had been easier than you’d anticipated to get most of them, especially Randy and Mickey to tell you just about everything you didn’t know, making sure to spread your questions over the course of a few weeks rather all at once. You didn’t want suspicion to arise due to overly keen and pressing curiosity, so it was just small things only being spoken about if another member of the group brought it up. So, whenever Randy brought up in a pissed off tone anything about Billy Loomis, you’d casually slide in a question, like “Why would he even do something like that?” or “How did it happen?“ and Randy would eagerly start chatting like a parrot, telling you just about everything you needed to know under the guise of your concerned friend act.

It was almost amusing how easy it all was.

“I don’t know, Sid.” Derek sighed, looking with nothing but undiluted fear at his anxious girlfriend. “But they’ll find the sick fuck.”

“Honestly, it might have nothing to do with you.” Mickey spoke up, dragging his eyes away from the bustling crowd. Sidney’s eyes flickered to Mickey and she frowned, brow creased as she questioned him.

“Two kids who attended our college got carved up by someone in a Ghostface costume and you think it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Randy and I?”

Mickey shrugged, stopping the drumming on your thigh and leaned forward on the bench. “I don’t know, Sid. But it was opening night for a movie based on real events. Maybe someone was just playing some kind of sick joke and it just went too far?”

“Wow. You’ve had a lot of time to think about alternatives haven’t you, Mickey?” Randy spoke up, eyes narrowing at him. Your gaze moved from Sidney’s anguished face and focused on Randy’s.

“What are you implying, Randy?” You asked in a clipped tone.

“I’m not implying anything.” He muttered and you felt your nails cut into your palm as your hands clenched into tight fists.

“Calm down, Randy.” Hallie rolled her eyes at him with a scoff, “I saw Mickey in the library last night.”

Randy muttered something that sounded like, “Sure whatever”, under his breath and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks so you didn’t rip him apart right then and there.

You couldn’t begin to describe the sudden unbearable rage you felt when Randy had even hinted at Mickey being the killer. From the day you’d met him, you’d felt yourself utterly drawn to and infatuated with everything about him. There was an all too familiar darkness about him, about his aura that caused you to magnetise yourself to him, refusing to break away no matter what. Did anyone else suspect Mickey? Your eyes scanned the faces of your ‘friends’ but the conversation continued between the four of them, slowly merging into something else entirely and you felt nothing but Mickey’s anxious eyes set on your face.

“You alright, baby?” He asked, feeling his large hand covering your tightly clenched one and you quickly blinked, flashing him a small smile.

“Yeah, of course I am. Why?” You asked as innocently as you could muster, praying that you came off as genuine.

He raised his eyebrows a little and pointedly looked down at your other hand gripping the edge of the bench so hard your nails seemed almost permanently embedded in the cracked wood. You moved your hand quickly and shook it out as you sighed. “I’m fine.” You assured him, lightly pressing your palm against his stubbly cheek. “I’ve got a class in a few so I should get going.” You announced to the group and you felt all of them glance at you.

“I’ll walk you.” Mickey said, standing up from the bench and grabbing his bag and video camera.

“No, no it’s fine.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly pushing him back down onto the bench as you were shaking your head. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m sure the big bad monster isn’t going to attack me while I walk to class in the middle of the day.”

You lightly pecked him on the lips before turning on your heel and walking to class, feeling suspicious brown eyes watching you all the while.

—————————-————————-————

“So, you gonna tell me what the hell has been going on with you?”

You gasped, jumping as your hand clutched your chest and you glared up at Mickey, who was leaning against the wall outside your lecture hall. “Have you been waiting out here the whole time I was in there?” You asked with a frown.

“No,” Mickey lied and swiftly took your books out of your hands before you could stop him as he began to walk, begrudgingly you begin following after him. “So, are you?”

“Nothing is going on with me.” You insisted, rolling your eyes. “Why would you assume there is?”

“You’re not anywhere near as mysterious as you think, babe.” A smile toyed on his lips as you both walked down the hall, his free hand lightly resting on your hip.

“And you’re not nearly as intuitive as you think you are.” You muttered under your breath. He let out a frustrated groan before tugging you by the loop of your jeans into an empty classroom.

“Seriously, what is with you lately? You seem…” Mickey hesitated a little, teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he spoke again “…Different. You keep brushing me off whenever I ask to hang out and you always seem like you're kind of somewhere else. I’m worried about you.”

“Mick, I’m just really busy.” You sighed, lightly removing his hands from your body. I’ve got a dissertation due in a few days, and-“ you cut yourself off for a second, realisation hitting.

You knew Mickey far too well. As laid back as he was, you knew deep down he worried about you far too much. His analytical and downright clingy behaviour must’ve been down to one thing and one thing only. The murders he had no idea you were committing. You let out some air from your mouth and looked up at him with a sudden fondness.

“Is this because of what happened to those two kids?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

“You’re distracted.” He said simply, shrugging a little. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the soft smile that lit up your face as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your toes to affectionately kiss him. You felt him relax a little, relief evident in the way he kissed you back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your skin from over your shirt.

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” You assured, your voice absolutely certain as you pulled back to look him in the eye. “I promise. And nothings going to happen to you either.”

“I’m not worried about me.” He mumbled insistently pressing his forehead to yours.

You sighed a little, moving your hand down to his and intertwining your fingers together. “I mean it, Mick. You have nothing to worry about. I can practically guarantee it.”

Mickey looked you up and down, confusion evident on his face at the way you’d spoken and you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to the Delta Lambda party tonight?”

“Of course, why? Are you not?”

“No, no I’ll be there. I’m just making sure you’ll be. I might be a little late though I have some more work to do on my dissertation and call my dad. He’s worried given everything going on, you know?” You internally sighed. Now you’d actually have to fucking call him to stay true to your alibi. Great.

“I can wait with you and we can go together.”

You felt your teeth grind together and you wracked your brain for some kind of excuse.

“Mickey.” You said gently, looking at him sympathetically. “Randy’s suspecting you...” -another situation you’ll no doubt have to deal with sooner rather than later. “- so I think you need to stay within his sights for a while. You know how he gets. No doubt he’ll start stalking you so it’s probably best just to stay on top of that.”

Mickey looked unconvinced by your reasoning and something odd crossed his features but disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Alright, babe. I’ll be there the whole time.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered out toward the sound of a laugh and he rolled his eyes, making you turn to see what he was looking at.

“Why are you looking at Cici Cooper like that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just something she said in my film class.” Mickey said dismissively but you pressed, frowning.

“What did she say?“

“In a nutshell? My ideas on film and cinema are stupid. Apparently I’m biased because I believe there are a lot of sequels that are better than their original.” Mickey shrugged a little.

Your frown deepened.

Mickey had always been heavily passionate about films and extremely defensive about the films he loved. It may have been a tiny insult to any other person but anybody talking about Mickey in a way that was even somewhat negative? With the bloodlust you felt right now?

Well, it’s just a fucking recipe for disaster.

—————————-————————-————

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Randy slurred a little as he spoke to Mickey, flopping down beside him with a loud huff. Mickey recoiled slightly at the uncomfortable closeness.

“When I left her dorm she was talking to her dad. He seemed really worried so she might take a while getting here.”

“Hm.” Randy hummed, unamused and unconvinced before taking another sip of his drink.

“What, Randy.” Mickey sighed. “Got any more theories? Think she’s the killer now?”

Randy laughed too loudly and shook his head with a dismissive wave of his hand that wasn’t holding his drink. “Her? The killer? Please.” Randy leaned back. “No way she could’ve taken down a guy as big as Phil Stevens.”

Mickey nodded slightly, completely dissociating after Randy confirmed he didn’t suspect her.

But did Mickey?

He thought for a second about your behaviour leading up to the deaths of those two students. You were erratic, excited and ridiculously horny. Your sex drive had been so high for a week prior that even he was beginning to struggle to keep up. It had been kinkier than ever, and you were oddly dominating in a way Mickey wasn’t at all used to. He was used to being the one in control but recently, it was like you were a completely different person. It would be messy and rough. You’d bite him, scratch him and leave marks all over him just as he enjoyed doing to you. The give and take was a lot more fun than he would’ve anticipated. It never crossed his mind that someone as sweet as you could have this much of a sexually repressed edge.

Of course, he didn’t complain. He liked that you were comfortable enough with him to bring it out. This side to you was just as exciting as it was endearing to him. But then after the murders, it didn’t change. It built up more and more. You’d come back to his dorm after “studying”, eyes bright and almost menacing and practically pounced on him. In all honesty, it was probably the best sex the two of you had ever had.

But after that night, it changed drastically in a very different way. You’d stopped touching him, started avoiding him. You became more on edge and agitated yet ten times more focused.

He would never tell anyone about these changes he’d witnessed in you, but he was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed. He paid so much attention to you day to day that even the slightest change couldn’t go past him. And now? What the fuck were you really doing?

Randy was distracted, leaning over the arm of the couch and chatting to some girl. Mickey almost laughed at his lack of game before standing up, deciding to go and check on you. Something didn’t quite add up in his mind and he was going to find out what it was even if it killed him.

——————-————————-—————————

The undiluted pleasure spreading through you spurred you on as you stabbed Cici in the torso, her feeble attempts to fight you off fading every time the blade in your hand came down and plunged the cold steel deep into her.

Tormenting her via the phone call was fun, but this was ten times better. Perhaps she didn’t deserve this, she was only messing around with Mickey in class. It was a debate about films after all. But that didn’t matter to you. The fact she’d insulted someone that was yours made killing this sweet girl all the more fulfilling. Besides, you needed to kill someone whilst Mickey had an ironclad alibi. You didn’t need him on anyone's suspect list.

You watched in glee as the light in her eyes turned into a blank, glossy stare and brought the knife down once more, directly into her throat. She let out a muffled gargle and her mouth went slack. Cici’s fingers and legs twitched a couple of more times before you heard the release of air burst through her lips and just like that, she was dead. You moved from straddling her to stand over her as you wiped the blood off of the blade with your gloved hand.

“Stupid bitch.” You muttered, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings before removing the mask, sighing and cracking your neck.

You’d caught your first two victims, Phil and Maureen completely off guard, so although it had been fun to kill them, they were almost too easy to overpower and that took away from it a little. It made it almost boring in comparison to this. Cici on the other hand? The slight blonde girl had put up quite the fight. She’d kicked and scratched, she’d screamed and tried her best to fight you off of her to no avail. Your bloodlust made her absolutely no match for you.

You finally understood why Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had called their victims to taunt them first. The taste of satisfaction on your tongue was almost overwhelming, the sight of her crying, begging for you to spare her made you feel a way you’d never felt before.

Whilst you were revelling in your victory you heard the snap of a twig and your head snapped in the direction, the Ghostface mask gripped tight between your fingers.

“Mickey?” You gasped his name as he walked toward you, eyes huge and mouth open while he looked from Cici’s badly mutilated corpse and to your shocked face.

“It’s you? You’re the killer?”

To your surprise, he didn’t sound angry, or surprised. He didn’t look disgusted or even the slightest bit afraid. He looked… Almost curious. His intrigued brown eyes finally focused on your face after they dragged up from the girl lying dead on the ground.

“I..” you couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought as you stuttered. The last thing you wanted was to kill him, not Mickey. Not your Mickey. As he stepped closer, your hands instinctively lifted the knife and pointed it at him defensively and his hands rose, palms up. “You’re not going to fucking tell anyone.”

Mickey’s expression turned from intrigued to almost offended. “You think I would?”

You gave him a doubtful look but didn’t drop your guard, eyes monitoring his every move as he asked, “Baby, why?”

You frowned at him, tilting your head. “Why Cici or why am I doing this?” You felt frustrated, a raise of your hands and a shake of your head as you said, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this. Why the fuck did you leave the party, Mickey? I told you to stay there. That was your goddamn alibi so no one would suspect you.”

“I…I came to look for you,” His finger pointed in the direction of your building that was about a five minute walk from the sorority. “-and I heard screams and I was curious. So I walked up here and saw you stabbing the fuck outta Cici.” His shoulders turned up in a slight shrug.

“How the fuck are you acting so normal?” You hissed at him. It was hard not to be suspicious. Mickey was acting as though he caught you cheating on a damn test. This wasn’t normal behaviour for someone who’d just watched his girlfriend brutally gut somebody right in front of him.

He ignored you, asking once again, “Why?”

You sighed, briefly glancing around at your surroundings before your gaze focused back on your intrigued boyfriend. You hesitated a little, unsure what to do with the knife still pointed at him. It felt wrong pointing a weapon at Mickey. You loved him, but how could you let him live now? He was a witness, a loose end, and there’s nothing you hated more than loose ends.

Mickey watched as your face changed into a look of frustration and he lowered his hands, glancing down at the knife before hesitantly taking another step toward you. You didn’t stop him, suddenly needing to feel him closer. When you felt stress like this, you always needed him around. He made you feel better, normal somehow. Well, as normal as you could feel given who you were.

But can you trust him? The small voice in the back of your head muttered to you and you sighed, the agitated desperation evident on your face.

“Does it matter?“ you asked between gritted teeth.

“Baby, I swear I’m not going to tell anyone.” Mickey spoke gently, as though you were a wild animal he was trying to tame.

“How do I know that?” You snapped, glaring up at him.

“Because I wouldn’t do that.” Mickey looked offended at your comment, a small frown taking over his features. “I love you, and I’d never do anything that would put you at risk. Come on baby, you know that!”

“You promise?” You asked cautiously. One thing about Mickey is that he never lied to you. You always knew he had somewhat of an edge due to the movies he watched to his depraved sense of humour. Maybe that’s why you felt so bonded to him. Maybe that’s why you trusted him so entirely with even the darkest parts of yourself you’d never allow anyone else to see. As you felt his hand gently wrap around the knife in yours, you visibly relaxed as he gently pushed your hand down along with the blade, eyes filled with nothing short of admiration as he whispered, “On my life.”

“Okay.” You breathed as you nodded, sweaty hair falling into your eyes. You believed him, but still felt a little tense. Looking at him now, you knew he wouldn’t betray you, he loved you far too much. “I trust you. But Mickey, please go back to the party. I need to make sure you’re not a suspect and it won’t be long before someone stumbles across this.” You gestured down toward the mutilated body about a foot away from the two of you and he nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll go back. But what do I tell them if they ask where you are?” Mickey frowned again, not liking the thought of them suspecting you. What would he do if you got caught? He’d always needed you but now? He needed you more than ever. He wanted you to tell him everything, how it felt to kill, how you felt when you did it and more importantly why. He’d always had a dark curious side and knowing the woman he loved not only had that too but actively pursued that darkness? No way he could let anything happen to you now. No way you could leave him.

“Try and go back in there without anyone noticing. Call the phone in my dorm and I’ll answer and tell you I fell asleep. That’s the best we can do now if I do become a suspect and they trace my calls.”

Mickey nodded, hands moving to touch the back of your neck with his rough fingers and the other on the small of your back as he pulled you close to him, lips enveloping yours. It was tender and nearly desperate, making you feel weak as he pulled away, a smile on his face as he began hastily walking back in the direction he came.

You watched after him for a few seconds as he slowly disappeared into the black night before pulling off the Ghostface costume, rolling up the mask and knife inside of it, taking one last look at Cici Coopers mangled corpse, smiling in admiration at your work before turning and walking back to your dorm, thinking of all the possibilities that await you now you didn’t have to hide such an enormous part of yourself from the one person you’d never hurt.

—————-————————-—————————

It had been two days since Mickey caught you murdering Cici Cooper, donning the Ghostface costume. Within those two days, he’d been nothing short of bombarding you with questions with the most intense curiosity you’d ever seen. His questions were all about your motive and you told him without hesitation.

“I want to finish what Billy and Stu started-” you’d told him with a small shrug, sitting perched on your countertop as he cleaned the bloody knife you’d used to murder Cici. Watching him do this helps you, he offers to do it for you without prompting and it makes you feel warm, assured in what he said, what he promised, that he wouldn’t tell on you. He is an accomplice now, cleaning your murder weapon, there is a particular domesticity to it that you could really get used to.

“-but I didn’t want to go straight for Sidney and Randy. I knew I needed practice, and how better than to fucking terrify her than to kill people with names of the original victims first and work my way up to them?”

He’d listened intently, utterly fascinated by you and you had to admit, it felt good to be worshipped by someone. Especially Mickey who had zero judgement in him and if anything, desperately wanted to learn more.

You were no longer even slightly uneasy with answering his questions as you’d initially been, willingly responding to each query with heavy detail which he seemed to thrive off, eyes bright and expression keen.

According to Mickey, after he had gone back to the party, it had taken a matter of ten minutes before someone had seen Cici’s dead body and the police had been called. Luckily, nobody had noticed Mickey’s absence, but your small friend group had noticed you were nowhere to be seen. He’d lied smoothly after calling you and quoting what you’d previously told him to say.

The best part of being a woman? Especially one who looked as sweet and innocent as you did? Nobody thought twice about it.

Your original plan to attack Derek and bombard Sidney with hesitation and doubt about her own boyfriend would have to wait for a later date. Mickey’s little discovery had somewhat put a wrench in the works but much to your own surprise, it didn’t bother you. It felt incredible to have someone you could share the darkest parts of yourself with without an ounce of judgement.

And the sex? It had been non-stop since the moment Mickey had walked into your dorm room after he’d been interrogated. It had been intense in ways you’d never imagined. With him knowing everything, you didn’t have to hold back anymore and neither did he. He wanted to fuck you whilst you still had Cici’s blood on your hands and arms, something that did not only catch you by surprise, but instantly turned you on. How could you say no to that? The image of him, smudges of tacky and quickly oxidising scarlet painting his torso, along with hickey’s you left on his neck, shoulders and collarbone, hair a wreck post sex was burned into your brain.

You were straddling Mickey now, both of you stripped completely bare as you had been from the night he found out you were Ghostface, fingers woven through his dark hair as you angled and ground your hips down against him, small sighs falling from your lips as you felt him gliding in and out of your drenched pussy. His head was resting back against the headboard, dark lustful eyes watching your face as you leaned forward and moved your lips against his, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of your hips so hard they were bound to bruise.

“What’s it like?” He asks it softly and you pull back looking down at him, the smile spreads on your face and you ask, “What’s what like?”

Another fall of your hips, enveloping him totally once again, the roll of your body and the rhythm serving you both well, he asks, “What’s, ugh, what’s killing like?”

The laugh breaks out as you slow your pace, “That is what you are thinking about right now?”

You slam yourself down harder and he gasps out, “Yes,” The look in his eyes is practically pleading, “Please, tell me?”

Well how could you deny him?

“You want me to tell you what it feels like to slide cold steel into a warm body?” you whispered to him, one hand sliding from his hair to his throat, finger pressing gently against his racing pulse. “How it feels to see the terror on their face when they realise they’re going to die? Watch the life drain from their eyes?” A small whining sound escaped Mickey’s lips as you moved again, trying to fight the urge to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress as you spoke.

“Yes.” He murmured desperately.

“It’s like sex,” you said gently with another roll of your hips making him groan again as he felt your clit rub against him and your pussy clench around him. The slow, teasing pace you were giving him was driving him crazy, he needed either you to ride him with wreckless abandon, or be able to fuck up into you so hard you’d struggle to take it.

“-there’s something intimate about it. Nothing can compare to the feeling of having someone’s life in your hands and being the one with the power to take it away.” Your hands moved to his throat as you spoke, applying enough pressure so it wouldn’t really hurt him but it would definitely have an impact. He let out nothing short of a growl as you did, fucking up into you even harder.

His rough hands moved from your hips to your ass, kneading the soft flesh and his breath hitched as you began to move faster, eyes watching as your tits bounced in front of his face, thrusting his hips upward to match your pace. He moved one of his hands to slide down your torso, finding your swollen clit and began to move his fingers in small, deliberate circles around your swollen bud, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that he knew teased you in just the right way. You let out a small groan as he did, feeling the pressure begin to build in your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time in the last two days.

“Not yet.” He grunted, fingers slowing to an agonising pace. Even with you straddling him with your hand wrapped around his throat you listened, letting out a small gasp as he gripped your waist, flipping you over so you were on your back with him hoisting your legs around his waist as he started to thrust into you, eyes dark and almost menacing. He liked to be in control and although he knew your secret, it didn’t mean that was going to change.

“I want- fuck- I want to be there next time.” His tone was uneven as he fucked you, pinning your hands above your head with one hand, you groaned into your arm, relishing in the feeling of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you and the slight stubble of his trimmed pubes grinding against your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable as you tried to fight the instinct to let the pleasure completely envelop you. “And I want to help you.”

This made you snap back into reality for a moment and you leaned your head back, looking at him in shock. “You- you what?”

He didn’t stop but slowed down, releasing your hands and cupping your cheek. “I want to help you,” he repeated, a smile on his beautiful face. “I don’t want you to do this alone. Besides, Billy and Stu did it together. Why don’t we?”

You couldn’t help but let an almost sadistic grin take over your face. Maybe that could work? It would surely help you, and he was right. Billy and Stu worked together and Mickey was definitely twisted enough to be able to pull this off with you. You’d already killed three people solo and just imagining Mickey being there and helping you…

“I need to injure Derek and kill Randy next.” You breathed, smirking a little as you looked up at your boyfriend, legs still wrapped around his waist. You felt him twitch inside of you, anticipation evident on his face as he moved his hand down between the two of you. “I’ll start you off easy with Derek,” you said, voice cracking a little as you began to circle your clit once again. “Don’t kill him, but make it fucking hurt.”

You could hear the smile in Mickey’s voice as he began to roll his hips again, fingers moving expertly across your clit, a small moan falling from between his lips as he felt your teeth sink into the skin of his shoulder hard enough for you to taste his blood.

“I will, but I want to help you kill Meeks too, I wanna see him gutted.”

God, you loved him.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

If You Let Me (Badda Boom Universe)

Alpha!Jax Teller x Omega!POC!Reader "LuLu"

Summary:

Flashback to that time when you confessed your love during a jam session in the backyard unaware that Jax and Opie can hear you through his open window and things took a turn you weren't expecting.

Warnings:

Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Jax Teller, Accidental Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Marriage, Pregnancy

Notes:

Hello Heathens, I've decided that anytime these two have a story for me to write about them, I am going to add it as a chapter to their saga. This story is heavily inspired by the song "If You Let Me" by Sinead Harnett. (A link to the song will be in the story) Happy Reading!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

Your recent hook up with Jax is fresh on your mind.��

Granted, it was a week ago when he was “off again” with Tara before you found them back together just days later. It’s a semi-normal thing you've learned to deal with since you were teenagers.

You know loving him the way you do is painful, but you can't seem to help yourself. He’s had your heart since you were preteens and all those lovely hormones kicked in. His scent is the only one that has made you weak in the knees from just one hit. But you’ll only ever be his Little Moon, the girl who is dependable, always there whenever and for whatever he needs. 

Ruts included. 

You aren't fooling yourself thinking that someday he will truly be yours, your collarbone sporting his claim. So you keep yourself open to interested parties and have racked up quite the body count. But no one has hijacked your heart, or satiated your heats, like Jax has. 

Well, that’s not true. Ari came pretty close to taking the role of Alpha in your life. Just when you thought you could possibly take things further with him, he got a job offer overseas he couldn’t pass up. That’s where things ended, just over a year ago. The universe loved to torment you.

Seeing Jax a couple days ago at the clubhouse, Tara hanging all over him, was all the reminder of your place that you needed. So you're spending your day off with Diamond, out in the sunshine on your back porch. Medicating your soul with your dear friend THC.

“Girl when are you going to get over that boy? The dick must be amazing for you to keep going back knowing he isn't going to pick you. I don’t care how good he smells to you.” Your best friend protests. 

“I’m not going to bother trying to explain it to you again. My love for him isn't conditional. His scent is the one thing that always calms me. When we hook up, great, when we're just hanging out at the clubhouse, great. No matter who is there. It is what it is, D. I’m not trippin over it. So neither should you.”

“You’re telling me you dont want more?”

You let out a deep sigh. “Of course I do. But there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s how unrequited love works.”

“Alright then. If you say so. But answer me this one question.”

“Shoot.”

“How do you manage all these pent up feelings without lashing out?”

“Easy. Like this.” You take a hit off the joint and start strumming on the acoustic guitar in your lap. 

The Ganja begins to steadily course through your system, loosening your tongue and helping you purge all the pent up emotions you’ve been bottling up. Your surroundings disappear as your voice is carried on the wind to Opie’s open kitchen window, where he’s handing an exacerbated Jax a beer.

“Is it for good this time?” Op asks.

“She’s leaving again. So yeah. It’s for good.” He takes a sip of his beer. “At least for me it is. I really am getting too old for this back and forth shit.”

“I’m sure the fact she’s a beta doesn't help. Especially when you surround yourself with a certain little Omega.”

“I’ve known LuLu my whole life, man. If Gemma hasn’t run her off, Tara certainly isn’t keeping her from me.”

“Ya finally gonna do something about that, now that you're a free man?”

“What do you mean?” He pulls a cigarette out of his pack with his teeth and proceeds to light it. “We just hooked up last week.”

“I meant to make it more official than just hooking up when you need a tight place to stick your knot.”

“But she takes it so well man.” He smirks, tilting his head as a sound catches his attention. “Do you hear that music?”

“Probably Lulu out in her backyard.” Op supplies. “Must be high too, for her voice to carry this clearly.”

He gets up from the table and heads to the open window that has a perfect view of your backyard. There he finds you, sitting on the porch with Diamond. Your eyes are closed, fingers strumming along your beloved acoustic, emotion clear on your beautiful face as he soaks in the words you're serenading.

“I wonder who she’s singing about.” He thinks aloud.

“You can not be that dense man.” Op chuckles out.

“What are you talking about?” His eyes never leave your backyard.

Opie shakes his head. “I’m sure it’ll come to you. If not, just go over and ask her.”

Your mouth watering scent, along with your sweet voice, wafts in through the window. He can’t help but feel a pull towards you as he takes a deep inhale, allowing your last notes to sink in. He carefully watches as you look at Diamond, a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes gracing your face.

“Damn girl, you’ve got it bad. You weren’t kidding about it being unconditional. Jax is one lucky son of a bitch and he doesn't even realize it.” Diamond declares through a plume of smoke.

“Like I said before. It is what it is. Just because he checks all my mate boxes, doesn't mean I check all of his.” You swallow, placing the guitar next to you and taking back the joint offered to you. “I can’t wait around for life to find a way. So, I enjoy what I am given.”

“You’re too damn precious for this world girl. Fuck I wish I had just a sliver of your patience and self resolve.”

“Oh, no. I’m still a petty bitch. Don’t get it twisted. I hate the fact that he chooses her over me. I just don’t see the sense in wasting energy on it.” You take a hit. “He’s had more than a taste. Not to mention he’s a full grown Alpha. If he wants more, nothing’s stopping him but him.” You exhale, letting the smoke slowly leak out of your mouth and into the air.

“Is that right, Little Moon?” You turn towards the voice of the Alpha in question as he walks up your porch steps.

Unafraid of the truths you now know he just heard you hold your head high. “Sure is. But it’s of no matter at the moment is it? You belong to someone else.”

“She ended it today actually.” He confesses. “She leaves for Seattle tomorrow morning.”

“She never really could stand Charming for long. Always chasing something better.” You relay.

“I have to agree with you there. But it at least frees me up again.” He gives you that devilish smile.

“You could have been free at any time, Jackson. You chose to embrace your gilded cage.” You coolly state.

“Shiiiit, Mary Jane’s got you extra poetic in your pettiness today. I love it!” Diamond laughs out.

“Aw come on Darlin’. Here I was, having heard your little concert, thinking maybe I’d find you being all soft and sweet.” He play pouts.

“I’m not in the mood for your games or to ruin my high Jackson. So please, just say what you have to say.”

“You sure about that Omega? Even with Diamond present.” He nods towards your bestie.

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I have nothing to hide from her. I’m waiting.”

“Alright.” He crosses the deck, cups your face in his ringed hands and pulls you up to his face, laying a devastating kiss to your lips. Your synapses go haywire as his strong scent envelops you, allowing a whimper to escape your throat. His hands glide down to your waist, where he lifts you up so that he can switch positions with you.

Your thighs are now splayed across his denim covered lap, loose shirt raised to your waist, exposing the tiny shorts you were wearing underneath as he leans back into your former seat. He breaks the kiss, a smug look on his face as he looks up into your glazed over eyes. “That’s better.”

He runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Diamond, I’m going to need you to give me and my Omega some space. Op’s next door if you don't want to go home. Choice is yours.”

“Your Omega.” You whisper, in confusion.

“You heard me correctly.” His eyes remain on you.

“Oooooh bitch, Imma bounce. Even though it looks like this is gonna be good.” Diamond grabs her bag. “I expect a full report first chance you get. Which by the look on his face isn't going to be til at least tomorrow. Love ya girl. Bye.” She scurries off.

“Bye.” You wave to her, your eyes never leaving the Alpha below you.

“You and I have some things we need to work out. Are you up for it Little Moon?”

“Does this have something to do with you overhearing me singing?”

“That’s part of it.”

You sigh. “Okay. Give me your worst.”

He grabs the waistband of your shorts, snapping them against your skin. "First I need these off of you. We're gonna have this talk with you warming my cock so you understand just how serious I am." 

With a determined look and slick quickly dampening the crotch of your shorts, you stand up on shaky legs. With an initial push down over your ass, you shimmy them the rest of the way before taking a step out and kicking them off to the side.

His eyes devour your bare lower half, biting his lip as he runs a palm along the bulge in his jeans. “Mmm. Good girl. You really would do anything for me huh?” He hits you with his dazzling smile, the one that always has you weak in the knees. “Come here and unzip me, Omega. I want you to pull me out and sit on the evidence of what your scent does to me, darlin’.”

You can feel your slick beginning to slowly leak down onto your thighs, perfuming the air further with your scent. You squeeze them together before stepping forward and doing as your Alpha requested. You bend over at the hip, ghosting your fingers down his torso until you reach the tented denim, releasing his hard length to the light of day. With a quick squeeze to his base, you straddle his lap and slowly lower yourself down onto his thick cock, letting it fill you up inch by inch. 

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at the possessiveness and lust swirling in his Cobalt blues. Drawing in a deep breath, your lids become heavy, you can’t help but lose yourself in how good his mouth watering scent mixes with your own sweet essence. As you reopen your eyes, he places a soft kiss on your lips, sliding his hand down to wrap around your throat. "Now be a good little Omega for me and pay attention to what I have to tell you."

You nod your agreement. Your tongue, incapable of forming words at the moment.

“I was next door at Op’s, shooting the shit in the kitchen. Downloading him on all this Tara business. When this music drifts in through the window that faces your backyard.” He pushes his thumb under your chin. “Imagine my surprise when Op tells me it’s probably just you playing around out back.”

You swallow against his fingers. “You heard me.”

“Oh yes, Little Moon. I heard every sweet and tortured word you sang.” He smirks at you. “At first I thought you were just singing to sing. Though the words did sound a bit like a confession. It wasn’t until you finished and Diamond got to chatting that I connected the dots. All those precious words were about me.”

"Yes." You whisper out.

"And here I was, getting called out by Op right before the universe comes and drops a neon sign pointed in your direction." He licks his parched lips. "I originally came over here to tease you about getting high and serenading the neighborhood.” He chuckles to himself. “After hearing you say it wasn’t worth the energy to wait around for me and then still called me out on it when I showed up. Well, darlin' I knew I had to rectify that."

"So that's what this little show of Dominance is all about then? Witnessing the power you as a whole have over me?” You give him a challenging look.

“Not at all.” Unbothered by your accusing tone, he caresses your neck, fingers dipping down until they ghost along your collarbone. “This is all to make it clear where I stand. I heard you loud and clear, Omega. No more dancing around it. I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.” He growls out.

You involuntarily clench around the girth settled deep inside of you as his words register, making him practically purr at the feeling.

“Fuck it. Move your hips Omega. I need you to continue being a good girl and let me watch you ride your Alpha.” 

Your eyes alight at his command. You swivel your hips, slowly grinding against him in a figure eight pattern, losing yourself in how full you feel, walls gripping on to his thickness.  

You raise up and start to bounce on his lap, his hand returning to your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. The sweet pressure, muffling your moans. "That's it. You look fucking gorgeous when you ride me. Your tight little cunt was made for taking my knot. And you’re going to let me stuff you full of it aren't you."

You can feel the stirrings of an epic orgasm on the horizon. He removes his hand from your throat, gliding his fingers down your torso to start rubbing your clit in tight little circles. You gasp out, head tilting back, hands gripping tightly to his shoulders. You’re right on the knife's edge, rapidly hurtling towards your own climax. 

"Fuuuuck, baby you're so close. I can feel your sweet little pussy trying to make me pop my knot. Gonna cum all over my fat cock, Omega?" You moan out, head bobbing, lost in a haze of lust. "I can’t hear you, ‘mega. Use your words baby. Do. You. Want. To. Cum. On. My. Cock?"

"YES! Please, Alpha. Please. I want to cum all over your cock, make a mess just for you." You beg, uncaring of who might hear you.

A low growl vibrates through his chest. "There's my sexy little Omega. Begging so pretty for her Alpha." His fingers, dancing along your clit, quicken, causing the grind of your hips to increase. 

"Now!” He grits out with a strong thrust of his hips up into you. “Cum for me right now, Omega. Want to feel this tight cunt of yours clamping down on my dick like a vice." 

His command was all you needed to let go and fall head first into a mind numbing orgasm. You rest your forehead against his, as you let out a deep guttural moan. Nails digging into his shoulders as you writhe and squirm in his lap, riding each wave of ecstasy.

He pulls you in closer, kissing you to muffle your screams. You do have some pretty nosy neighbors afterall. His tongue dances with yours, setting you off once again. Or did you ever stop? Honestly who cares at this point. You find yourself chasing his lips as he breaks the kiss.

"Such a perfect Omega. Cumming so hard for her Alpha. Gonna let me fill ya up, baby? Cum so deep you'll be feeling me leaking out of you for days?" 

You whine at the images his words create. "Yes. Please. I want you to fill me up so badly, Alpha. Need your knot." You plead with a twist of your hips. 

Gripping your waist, he pumps up into you at an erratic pace. “Fuck baby, I’m right there.” 

You grab his face, leaning down to smash your lips against his. Your tongues fight for dominance as he groans out, knot popping as he thrusts in deep, locking you together as he paints your womb white with his seed. Your velvety walls, milking every last drop he has to give you. 

You find yourself smiling, as you hum your pleasure at being filled, against his lips. He pulls back slightly, trailing kisses down your neck, until they rest against your collarbone. Running his teeth along your skin, lips latching on and breaking various blood vessels with his suction. Leaving behind his temporary claim. 

“Couldn’t help myself. Had to leave my mark somehow, darlin’.” He kisses the darkened, tender flesh. “When my teeth do finally sink in. Breaking your skin for the first time. You are going to be lying blissed out beneath me in bed, with my knot deep inside you. Not riding me in the backyard.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long this time, Jackson.” You tease.

After you both caught your breath and cleaned yourselves up, you decide to enjoy the rest of your day off together. Smoking a fresh rolled joint, enjoying some great takeout, and watching movies until you fall asleep cuddled together on the couch. 

Both of you awakened once the sun broke through the curtains and into your eyes. This has never happened before. One of you always leaves before the other wakes up. You have to admit it feels right waking up wrapped in his arms.

“So, Little Moon. How do pancakes sound?”  

Damn why does his voice have to be all deep and husky first thing in the morning.

You shake out the naughty thoughts running through your mind. There’ll be time for that later. “That sounds great to me as long as you can get Opie to make them instead of me.”

“It’s the least he can do after the free show I’m sure we gave him.”

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 15

Status: Work In Progress Version: 1.01 Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC Rating: NC-17 (This chapter NC-17) Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: This one was a tough one to push out, and I had a lot of help doing it.

As usual characterization chief @fistfuloftarenths played a big role. Whenever I have a feeling about a character that I can't articulate she has all the missing words on the "why" of it. You should definitely read Isn't it a marvel? by her!

@dustdeepsea of Trouble will Find me fame (go read that and Performance Review!) and @thisaccountisagainstmywill (read What Else Would We be!) acted as lovely beta readers.

Table of Contents Read Here on AO3 as this is an *adult* chapter.

Milder excerpt below the cut.

New Tricks - Chapter Fifteen Excerpt

Sal sighed as he sat his pack down and collapsed onto the inn bed. The road from Crimmor had been rough. Conditions had been fair, no beasts nor bandits had accosted them, and yet the mood had been nothing short of dour. Olly had sulked the whole time and Bellar had been terse and demanding. Sal was certain if they had spent another day on the road the two of them would’ve come to blows. For all his talk of seniority Sal had a feeling that Bellar did not actually enjoy the mantle of leadership. Bellar was more for fighting, less for responsibility and morale.

“Don’t forget to send Izzy.” Olly was kicking his boots off as he stretched out on his own twin bed across from Sal’s.

“Give me a minute to get my bearings, Olly.”

“Right.” Olly replied but continued to stare at Sal expectantly.

“Dammit, Olly.” Sal sat up and crossed his legs, closing his eyes so he could focus on the spell. “I can still feel you staring, Olly. Give me some space.”

“Sorry.” Came the sheepish reply, and he heard the lad shuffle to look the other way.

Sal exhaled slowly and envisioned the glyphs in his mind, his fingers tracing their various shapes in the air. Thinking carefully to ensure his message was clear, concise and no more than twenty-five words.

‘Hello, Izzy, we’ve arrived in Athkatla. We’re staying at the Adamantine Mug. How fare you and our illustrious leader?’

‘Sal,’ Came the swift reply. ‘he is well enough to speak. I will send him soon as he’s able, sooner if he doesn’t learn to hold his damned tongue.’

“Shit.”

“What did she say?”

“Patience, Olly.”

Sal focused on casting the spell a second time.

‘Rugan, what in the nine hells did you do to fuck up the best thing that ever happened to you, nay any man?’

‘Sod off wizard.’ Came the terse reply.

“Fucker.” Sal hissed, regretting wasting the spell slot.

“Well?”

“He’s awake and making an ass of himself.”

+++++

Izzy hadn't come to see him again that evening. He had hoped she would return for supper, but a maid had delivered his meal in her stead.

As much as her constant coddling grated on him, being left to his thoughts was even less agreeable. What would Zarys say, or worse yet, do when she found out about him taking ill, and exactly why he had taken ill? He'd have to confront Olly about that too. He didn't look forward to the chastisement the lad was in for, but it was necessary. Probably sounded damn hypocritical coming from him, laid up as he was because his heart had taken pity on poor, sopping wet Olly.

Sal’s sending only added to his anxieties. If Sal knew he had fucked up, that meant he had ‘spoken’ to Izzy, and that Izzy had been angry enough to say something about it.  Why was everything so difficult here when it had been so easy in Waterdeep?

He had hardly eaten, and spent what energy he did have pacing his room that evening.

When Izzy arrived with his breakfast the next morning he felt a rush of relief. He stood from his seat to greet her, having felt well enough to dress himself from his pack, and anxious enough that he had woken early. She didn't seem angry, but she was guarded, her usual easy smiles absent when she greeted him and set down his tray.

“You seem much better today,” she said tentatively and pressed her hand to his forehead to gauge his temperature. “No fever either, I think you might be able to stop with the tea now.”

“Thank the gods for that.” He smiled at her, hoping to coax her out of her shell. “I’ve had worse medicine in my life but only just barely.”

She gave a polite half smile and he felt his own falter.

He bade her sit with him while he ate and Izzy assented, though while she sat across from him her mind seemed to be somewhere faraway. Her expression was anxious as she gazed out the window.

Rugan took the opportunity to admire her as he ate. She was beautiful, with her high cheeks and bright eyes, that soft mass of raven hair. It called to mind another memory, their first morning on the Prow: her hair pooled out across the pillows, mouth parted in a silent cry as he had moved inside her. The way it had felt to have her fingers intertwined with his own as they had rocked together.

As if sensing his gaze she turned to meet it. She must have noticed just how intense his scrutiny was because her cheeks reddened when their eyes met.

“You didn't come to see me last night, Iz.” He gently chided.

“I had an errand to run.” She replied softly, but Rugan felt strongly that wasn't the principal reason.

“An errand, at that hour?” He asked sceptically.

She nodded. “I have something for you, let me go fetch it.”

Without another word Izzy slipped out of the room. She returned with a folded bundle of cloth tied with twine and presented it to him with both hands. Rugan stood to gingerly accept the package and placed it on the bed to unwrap. Even before undoing the twine he could tell the material was a fine black wool. Slipping it free from the strings he held it out and realised it was a rain cloak. It was lined with another layer of wool dyed mustard yellow, and he guessed that it would fall to his calves.It was a fine cloak to be sure.

Mercenary work would earn you a fair bit of coin compared to common trades but you wouldn't get rich by it. And a cloak like this could be a month's wages. An amount he could scarcely part with. Hells, half his kit had been scavenged from the cooling bodies of friend and foe alike.

He had extorted for less, killed for less. It would have been one thing if he had bartered or threatened her for this, but to receive it as a gift? 

“Iz… how much coin did this cost you?”

“It’s considered rude to ask the price of a gift you know.”

“I can’t repay this, Izzy…”

“It’s also customary in many cultures to give a gift without expectation of something in return.”

Rugan continued to stare at the fabric clutched in his grasp as if it were a snake ready to strike. “How could I possibly accept this?”

“Olly still has your old cloak, it would be foolish of you not to.”

She was right of course. He couldn’t afford to fall ill a second time, could afford a new cloak even less, especially one nice as this. But the thought of taking it made his stomach turn.

His taking pity on Olly had been a chink in the armour. An unacceptable weakness that had left him in a position of vulnerability. And now she was heaping favours and gifts on him he could never repay, nor could he afford to refuse them. Were he hale he would've turned his nose up at the charity of any noble. But he wasn't, and Izzy wasn't. Even so.

“You can't just keep lording over me like this.” 

“I'm not lording.It's a gift.” He could hear the frustration in her voice.

Exasperated he dropped the cloak to the bed and turned to her, running his hand over his face and hair.

“I don't know what you want from me in return for all this.” 

“I don’t want anything from you, I want to help you.” Her tone was pleading.

Rugan searched her face, trying to discern what she was thinking, what agenda might be served by her generosity.

“Why?”

“Why did you give Olly your cloak? What more reason do I need to have?”

“You’re a soft hearted fool, Iz.” He breathed.

“In fairness to me, I commissioned this before you threw a tantrum over taking a bath.”

“I did not-” Rugan started darkly, and then thinking better of it, he instead took a deep breath and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to fight you, Iz.”

“Then don’t pick fights with me.” She whispered back, her own arms wrapping tightly around his waist, her face desperately pressing into his chest. That broke what little resolve he had and he buried his face in her soft tresses. He breathed in her heady scent and when he finally pulled back Izzy lifted her head to stare up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. 

Gods, when had he last kissed her? Not since Waterdeep. Not since they had said goodbye in that darkened room. He dipped down to kiss her now, his mouth seeking hers out eagerly. Izzy broke the kiss first, panting softly, her hands fisted in his shirt. 

Read the rest on AO3

[nerdyvocals]

I'll Cut My Hair (To Make You Stare)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/F

Fandom: Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies (TV)

Relationship: Lydia/Cynthia Zdunowski

Characters:, Cynthia Zdunowski, Papa Zdunowski, Jane Facciano, Olivia Valdovinos, Lydia (Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies)

Additional Tags: Fic Exchange, hair cutting fic, cutting someone's hair can be so sapphic, The Pink Ladies know, Sleepovers, closet makeouts, they deserve normal high school experiences dammit, minor language, meet the parents, first "i love you's", Cooking Dinner Together, what if I shove a bunch of tropes into one fic, who would stop me, hair is an important part of Cynthia Zdunowski's identity, Fluffy, Cynthia Zdunowski has sensory issues, Betaed

Language: English

Collections: Lynthia Fic Gift Exchange 2023

Stats: Published: 2023-10-02, Words: 7,610, Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Your appearance is the ultimate expression of who you are, and something as simple as a haircut can change your life.

(Title from "This is Home" by Cavetown.)

Notes: For penguinwritesbooks.

My only instruction was to have fun, and boy did I! Penguin, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

When the ends of her hair touch the base of her neck, Cynthia knows it’s time for a haircut.

To be fair, there are other signs as well, many of which that come well before this point, but haircuts were a tedious chore, and the problem with these early signs was that they were easy to ignore. Cynthia liked her hair cropped short; a little shaggy around the ears, with bangs that fell just to her brow. Whenever her bangs encroach on her vision, it was a sign she needed a trim. But she could steal grease from the boys to push them back, and she wouldn’t notice. The next sign came when her ears disappeared fully under the mass of strands. But she could tuck the wayward locks behind her ears and forget their length.

The back of her head, however, was hard to ignore when overgrown. She didn’t pay it much attention at any other time. She couldn’t see the back of her own head, so why should she concern herself with what it looked like? But overgrown was another story. Overgrown meant itchy strands creeping under her collar, brushing across the nape of her neck, scuttling across her skin like phantom bugs, and sending horrible little shivers down her spine.

So when she woke to that familiar, creeping scratch, she knew it was time. But of course, the thought came along with the realization that she’d forgotten to set her alarm clock the night before, and now had a mere ten minutes to sprint out the door if she wanted to make it to school on time. Somehow, she didn’t think she could fit a haircut in that window.

Cynthia jolted out of bed with a start and flew to her closet, grabbing and shimmying into the first shirt and skirt her hands touched; a horrible clash of color and pattern that Nancy was sure to give her shit for later. From there, she hopped down the hall to the bathroom, pulling socks she hoped were clean over her feet as she went, vaguely aware of the phone ringing and her dad’s voice answering. In the bathroom, she squeezed a drop of Ipana onto her toothbrush from a tube that was long past the point of needing to be replaced. She scrubbed at her teeth for approximately three seconds before spitting the foam down the sink. Reaching for her comb, she spared herself a glance at her reflection in the mirror, and yeah, she definitely needed that haircut.

The sides of her hair almost reached her chin. Or at least the right side did; the left side was sticking straight up where she slept on it. Her bangs were long enough to be ruffled by a particularly strong huff of breath. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in the back at this point. If she had a hair ribbon, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to tie at least part of it up in the world’s worst ponytail. This was, without a doubt, the longest her hair had been in years. How had she let it come to this?

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[bambirex]

It's A Game We Play: Chapter 7

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega Jaskier, alpha Geralt, Alpha Yennefer, Beta Radovid, awkwardness, Jaskier is a good parent, protective Jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting, Jaskier is having the worst time of his life, Valdo is here to make everything worse, confusion, banter, insecure Jaskier, internalized slut shaming, light angst, family drama, there was only one bed, sharing a bed, Valdo Marx being an asshole, Valdo Marx and his ukulele from hell, drunk Jaskier

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 21,228 words

Chapter word count: 4,557 words

Chapters: 7/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

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Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Chapter summary: Radovid, Geralt and Yennefer receive some more hysterical outbursts from Jaskier, some vague motivation from Amaryllis, a not very ideal sleeping arrangement, an offensive serenade, and some extremely confusing feelings.

Author's notes: It seems like whenever I'm putting these poor idiots through the shredder, my word count reaches insane levels. Half of this chapter is filled with screaming to convey everybody's emotions.

Read on Ao3

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Radovid has experienced many awkward scenarios in his life, but nothing could compare to the tragicomedy of traipsing up to the inn his ex owned, with his maybe-daughter leading the way, as two other miserable people dragged their own baggage (emotional and physical alike) forward next to him. No one said a word since Amaryllis told them what they’ve already heard from Jaskier. What was there to say, other than holy fucking shit?

Right after Amaryllis finished her last sentence, she got a text from Jaskier, telling her to bring Radovid, Yennefer and Geralt to the inn, where they would stay until they managed to sort everything out. How they were going to find out the truth, Radovid had no idea. Amaryllis looked at least ninety-five percent like Jaskier, so it wasn’t easy to guess whose DNA was also in there. But well, they still had a bit of time to go until Amaryllis’s wedding, and apparently, they were going to spend those upcoming days trying to play a weird guessing game. Radovid’s head already hurt just imagining what was awaiting them.

Jaskier stood on the porch of the inn, his arms crossed over his chest. His lips were pressed together in a small pout as he watched the surreal gang approaching him. He was still wearing those distractingly short shorts as well. Not that Radovid looked at his thighs, or anything.

“Hi,” he said quietly once they reached him. He looked a lot less hysterical than he did in the goat shed, which was a much better look on him. “How long are you planning to stay… wait. Amaryllis? Present the plan.”

Amaryllis blushed in embarrassment. Her nose twitched nervously as she sent each of them a glance.

“Well…”

It was so painfully obvious she had no idea what she was doing. It was equal amounts annoying and endearing.

Jaskier sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Okay, whatever. I still have three more rooms left, so…”

“Thank you, for letting us stay here,” Geralt said. He gave Jaskier a small smile. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if you made us sleep out in the goat shed.”

Radovid and Yennefer made a sound of protest at the idea. Jaskier snorted.

“Yeah, I’m not that evil. Come inside, we’re gonna get you all sorted out.”

“He’s still angry, isn’t he?” Radovid whispered to Amaryllis. She looked up at him with a sigh.

“Murderous.”

“Our time here is looking out to be very peachy, then,” Yennefer muttered. “Amaryllis, I really hope we’ll get to sort this out very soon.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised with a little smile. As weird and chaotic this girl was, Radovid had to admit she was also very sweet. He was Jaskier’s daughter, after all, it made sense that she took after him.

Once they were inside the lobby, they ran into Ciri. She looked absolutely amused by the sight of them.

“You all look awful,” she told them with a bright grin. Geralt groaned.

“Thanks, Ciri. How kind of you to remind us.”

“Jaskier knows about me,” she said casually. Amaryllis made a confused noise. Ciri looked up at her, her teasing grin easing into a small, sympathetic smile.

“We didn’t really talk,” she told her softly. “So, you don’t really know who I am.”

“Yeah, sorry for just dropping you off here,” Amaryllis said. “I had to act quickly.”

“That’s okay, uhm…I’m here with these folks because I’m Geralt’s daughter.”

Amaryllis blinked. Her lips parted slightly in surprise. Jaskier turned around from where he was leaning against the reception desk, carefully checking his daughter’s reaction.

“Oh,” Amaryllis breathed. She swallowed audibly. She glanced at Geralt, who watched her with an unreadable expression.

“Thank you, for telling me,” Amaryllis concluded. She smiled at Ciri, but Radovid could see uncertainty in her eyes. It seemed like that after shocking everyone with the news she delivered, it was her turn to be shocked by the realization that she may had a little sister.

“This day is just full of revelations, isn’t it?” Yennefer whispered, as if she read his thoughts. Radovid nodded. He was truly wishing for at least one minute of peace.

Apparently, wishes didn’t come true.

“What do you mean they’re all taken!?” Jaskier suddenly yelled, making each of them jump. The kind-faced elderly lady behind the desk just smiled up at him.

“Ciri took one of them.”

“You took what?” Geralt asked in confusion, turning to his daughter. Ciri shrugged.

“A room.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. I need my beauty sleep, and you snore too loud.”

“Okay, Ciri,” Jaskier chimed in, “it would be much better if you stayed in the same room with your dad.”

“No, I’m not a baby,” Ciri scoffed. “I have my own room at home, I’m having my own room here.”

“She already signed,” the receptionist lady said, showing Jaskier the form. Jaskier groaned.

“Angela, this isn’t a legal sign, she’s not eighteen!”

“It’s just a room, Papa,” Amaryllis said, laying a gentle hand on her father’s shoulder. “She didn’t sign a mortgage.”

“Whose side are you on,” Jaskier whined. He rubbed at his temples. “How am I supposed to give three people two rooms?”

“One,” Angela clarified. A cacophony of Yennefer’s swearing, Geralt’s grumbling, Radovid’s stuttering and Jaskier’s overdramatic gasping filled the lobby. Some guests even turned their way to see what the fuss was about.

“What do you mean, one room!?” Jaskier’s voice went high-pitched. “Who took the rest?”

“I did.”

The sound that left Jaskier’s mouth was nothing like Radovid had ever heard from a human. They all turned around in confusion to see a guy with a mustache sitting next to a houseplant in the corner. He grinned brightly at Jaskier.

“Very lovely inn,” the guy said, lounging on his seat comfortably. “Especially that wallpaper. Did a toddler make it?”

Jaskier growled and made a move to lunge himself at him. Geralt caught him around the waist just in time before he majorly embarrassed himself, or landed himself in jail.

“Let me at him,” Jaskier snarled, flailing in Geralt’s grasp, “I’m going to kill him!”

“Oh, no,” Amaryllis groaned, realization settling in her eyes. “That’s a joke.”

“Who is this?” Yennefer asked in utter confusion. The guy stood from the seat and sauntered over to them, ignoring Jaskier’s struggle.

“I’m Valdo Marx, pleasure to meet you,” he crooned. He grinned at Amaryllis. “Ah, the younger Pankratz!”

He grabbed Amaryllis’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She made a gagging sound.

“Don’t touch my daughter, you toad,” Jaskier growled. “What are you doing in my inn? Angela! Why did you let him in!?”

She didn’t reply, as she was too occupied with her magazine. Jaskier tried again, louder this time.

“Angela!!!”

“Yes dear? You know, my hearing…”

“Why did you give him a room?”

“Now, discrimination against your guests isn’t a good look,” Valdo tutted. “Do you want me to yell out in front of your guests that you would remove me forcibly, even though I didn’t do anything?”

Jaskier’s face was so red, it was a wonder his head didn’t explode. Radovid, Yennefer and Geralt looked at each other in total confusion. Amaryllis glared daggers at Valdo, while Ciri grinned in the background, once again very much delighted by the free show.

“I’ll double your price,” Jaskier threatened him. Valdo raised an eyebrow.

“That’s discrimination again. I think I should actually yell…”

“No, shut up!” Jaskier huffed. He released a long-suffering sigh. “I’m going to have a stroke. Is this what having a stroke feels like?”

“Okay, but who is this?” Geralt asked. He only dared let Jaskier go once Valdo finally retreated to the room he mercilessly took.

“The guy I’m going to kill one day,” Jaskier huffed. He put his hands on his hips. “Okay. So, apparently, this bastard has taken one of the free rooms, and Ciri doesn’t want to let her own father inside hers.”

“That’s right,” Ciri replied simply. Geralt shook his head at her.

“So, I guess that means you all need to take that one room left,” Amaryllis told them with an apologetic smile. “I would offer you to sleep at me and my fiancée’s place, but we wouldn’t fit.”

“And no one is coming into my house,” Jaskier told them flat-out. “There’s a camping bed in that room, you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, no, it’s actually that room with one bed,” Angela chimed in with a smile. Yennefer’s eyes widened.

“No,” she hissed. “No fucking way. I am not sleeping in the same bed with these two. I’d rather kill myself.”

“Ciri, please,” Geralt pleaded, “you can’t do this to me.”

“Sorry,” Ciri replied simply. “It’s time we subjected someone else to your snoring.”

“I’ll pay you to let me sleep at your place,” Radovid turned to Jaskier. He shook his head vehemently.

“Nope. I can’t allow myself to go any more insane than I already am.”

Radovid sat down on his suitcase with a groan. This couldn’t be happening. The last thing he wanted was to sleep in the same bed with someone he didn’t take there himself. Especially with someone who apparently snored hard enough that his own daughter refused to stay in the same room with him, and with someone whose career he essentially ruined and who he was pretty sure would gladly murder him in the middle of the night.

“You know what, that’s the most I can offer you today,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up. “If you don’t like it, you can actually go and sleep in the goat shed. I’m tired of this. Bunch of whiny babies.”

“Alright,” Geralt gave in with a sigh. His tough exterior seemed to melt like chocolate over a stove whenever Jaskier was involved, and well, Radovid did not blame him. He also couldn’t make himself put up a fight against him, even though this whole idea sounded like a nightmare.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Amaryllis told them. She did look super guilty, at least. “This is all my fault.”

It kind of was, but none of them had the heart to say that to her. Instead, they all followed Jaskier to their room, defeated. The wheels of their suitcase creaking against the floor sounded like a sad, off-key fanfare at their funeral. At least Ciri looked happy rushing into her own little suite, the cheeky little witch.

“So,” Jaskier started as he opened the door to their room, “this would be it.”

It was indeed a small room with minimal décor, but it looked cozy enough. Radovid hoped Angela only joked about the one bed, but apparently not. Indeed, there was only one.

“No loud music after ten in the evening, though I doubt you would do that, don’t take forty-five minutes long showers because you’ll use up all the hot water and I will be very mad, breakfast, lunch and dinner is obviously in the dining room, you will find it easily because there’s a giant sign above the door, there’s some gluten and lactose-free options, not a lot because I have to pay the bills somehow, breakfast is from seven-to-ten, lunch is from noon-to two, dinner is from six-to eight. The Wi-Fi is free but lags a little, please don’t steal the towels, you can find them in that closet over there. Do you need anything else?”

“Another bed,” Yennefer groaned miserably. Jaskier snorted.

“Yeah, unfortunately, that’s all I have.”

“Thank you,” Radovid told him, forcing a smile onto his face to hide the fact he was screaming in agony inside. Jaskier nodded at him.

“Sure thing. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

With that, he turned around and left. Amaryllis leant against the doorframe, releasing a breath.

“Whew, this is a horror movie. I’m so sorry guys, seriously. You have no idea how much. When Papa said you can take rooms in the inn, I didn’t realize… this situation would happen.”

Geralt sat on the bed with a heavy sigh. “Who’s that Valdo guy? He has a very punchable face.”

Amaryllis chuckled. “He’s Papa’s archnemesis. They went to the same theater group in high school and competed with each other all the time. He’s an obnoxious Beta who ‘dresses like an Omega in heat, and thinks he’s like an Alpha in bed’, as described by my Papa. A painfully persistent over-compensator, whose favorite hobby is antagonizing my father. They even applied to the same college of performing arts, but only Valdo got in. So, you can imagine why Papa hates him so much.”

“How come Jaskier didn’t get in?” Radovid asked. “He said he won singing and poem-reciting competitions all the time.”

“He got pregnant,” Amaryllis replied quietly. She ducked her head down guiltily- the same guilt Radovid, Geralt and Yennefer also felt, if the way they all hunched in on themselves at the same time was any indication.

Yennefer broke the tense silence, eventually. “So, how are we planning this whole… ‘let’s figure out which one of us is your parent’ thing?”

“I was thinking I would spend some time getting to know you,” Amaryllis replied, “learn about your habits, your life… to see which one of you is the most like me? I don’t know. I think by the time my wedding comes, we will have an answer.”

Her phone pinged. She let out a gasp when she checked the message.

“Oh, shit, that’s Sara. My fiancée. She’s probably worried my Papa killed me.” She sent them all an apologetic smile. “I guess I should leave you now, a little bit. This day was a bit too much for everyone, so how about I come back tomorrow?”

They all agreed that was the best idea. Right now, another heavy conversation with their maybe-daughter didn’t sound like fun.

“Okay, well,” Radovid started once Amaryllis left the room, “I guess since we’re gonna spend quite some time together, maybe we should also get to know each other.”

“So much for leaving each other alone,” Yennefer groaned. She all but collapsed on a pouf. “Whatever. What do you wanna know?”

“How did you two meet Jaskier?”

Geralt quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why is this important?”

“Just curious.”

Geralt hummed. “Okay. Well, I was holidaying with my family, we camped in the woods for almost a month. My brothers, and my dad. We own a farm back home, with horses and a few cows.”

“I bet your horse’s name is still Roach,” Yennefer chuckled. She turned towards the confused Radovid. “He names all of his horses Roach. No matter their gender, color… though he has a thing for chestnut horses.”

“Wow,” Radovid chuckled, “and you gave me flack for naming my tarantula Franz Joseph.”

“That’s definitely worse,” Geralt argued. “Anyways, we were all here, and Jaskier’s car broke down. So, I helped him change the tire and the oil. He kept ogling me all the time. He even offered to pay in nature.”

“That’s so him,” Radovid laughed. “He didn’t, though, right?”

“No. But I suspiciously kept running into him afterwards. He was somehow always around. Always flirting, always seducing. And I eventually… I slept with him.”

He rubbed at his chin, a little embarrassed. “I wasn’t very smart back then. Didn’t really know what I wanted out of life. Definitely not a relationship, at the time. So, I… I left him. I loved him, but I couldn’t give him what he needed. Nothing steady or safe. And I needed to go home to finish college, and be a personal trainer, so… your turn, Radovid.”

“Okay,” Radovid swallowed. “Well, my father died, and I inherited one of his companies, the mango one. My brother got the other one. I was… celebrating, not that he died, of course. But that I got a whole firm so young. And I was in a bar, and I saw him, and he looked beautiful. And I bought him a drink, charmed him a little, and then… you know. We also didn’t play chess in bed.”

“And you left him for the company, I assume,” Yennefer said. Her voice seemed to have lost its ire. Radovid nodded.

“It’s a huge responsibility. You should see my schedule. I forget to eat like every second day. I couldn’t just leave it. So… yes. I did. I chose the company over him.”

“Well, it seems like none of us were the greatest back then,” Yennefer said with a bitter chuckle. “I was doing internship in the kitchen of this very inn. It was owned by Jaskier’s Aunt back then. He kept flirting with me, always sneaking into the kitchen to taste-test my food. He was so damn persistent. And well, there was a bit of a party, I had a bit to drink, and I said fuck it, and I slept with him. I was hoping to be a master chef, so I chased my dreams and I left him behind. Nothing came out of that dream, as you all know.”

“I’m sorry, Yennefer,” Radovid told her, feeling genuine guilt over it for the first time. Somehow, as they talked, all of them revealing something of their past selves, allowing themselves to be vulnerable around each other, he felt less and less irritated by them. Maybe they weren’t such douchebags, after all.

Yennefer waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. I guess I would’ve failed on my own anyways.”

“And what do we think about the whole Amaryllis deal?” Geralt asked. “I, personally, didn’t want kids for decades. I thought they were not for me. Then I got older, and I changed my mind. So, I adopted Ciri. I’m adopted, too. All my brothers are. We don’t have the most conventional family, so… but I’m still shocked, of course, that she could be my child, too.”

“I never thought myself to be a family man, either,” Radovid admitted. “I mean, I killed Franz Joseph. I forgot to feed him. Do you know how frugal tarantulas are? They’re like, the cactuses of pets. And I still managed to kill him, because I practically forgot I had him. I am still consumed by guilt every time I think about him. All I do is work, sometimes have one-night stands, get drunk alone like a miserable idiot, and the alarm rings again. How would a child fit into this picture? If I got Jaskier pregnant…God.”

“I always wanted kids,” Yennefer said softly. “And I had serious relationships. With Geralt, as well,” she blushed softly as she stole a glance at him. “But our personalities kept clashing. And that happened with everyone. I got married, and divorced, and rinse and repeat. And I cook in that awful bistro, and I don’t really have anything going on in my life. Amaryllis… I guess I’m upset about it. If she’s mine, didn’t we already run out of time to bond?”

They sat in silence for a while. Geralt hummed, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket.

“I guess maybe it’s not too late,” he concluded. He gave both of them a smile. “Hey, is there a chance we won’t kill each other, after all?”

“Not so fast,” Yennefer chuckled. “Ciri is right, you do snore awfully.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Well, you talk in your sleep.”

“Great night ahead,” Radovid sighed. “A guy once said I headbutted him in my sleep, so, be warned.”

They heard a soft sound from outside, like strings on a guitar. They all looked at each other in confusion. Before they could figure out what was going on, someone all but tore up their door.

“What the fuck…?” Geralt grumbled as they spotted Valdo with a ukulele, grinning at them.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for some good inspiration,” he chuckled. He played a chord, never taking his eyes off the confused gang. “And my oh my, how lovely it is that my room is right next to yours, and the walls are so thin!”

“Dude, get out of here,” Yennefer snapped, “what do you want?”

“Just showing you a lovely song I just put together after hearing your beautiful stories,” Valdo said with a grin. Radovid groaned.

“Nobody cares…!”

His voice was drowned out by Valdo’s ukulele, and then his singing.

Let me tell you a story, Which did not come with glory, About an old friend of mine, Wouldn’t even have to be wined and dined, As he opened his legs anyway, anytime!

First, he met Geralt, the big buff introvert, Jaskier looked at him and begged, ‘please insert!’ Now, he’s a gorgeous hunk, don’t get me wrong, But maybe his pull-out game wasn’t so strong, He pumped that flat tire, and maybe something else, Now, tell me, does being a gymrat pay child support well?

Next was Radovid, the smooth-talking boss, Jaskier melted for him like a piece of candy floss, His beloved mangoes are not the only ones with seeds, There’s a chance he left behind his fancy genes, His schedule is crazy, always the grind, but it’s so lucky, That for knocking up Jaskier, he did make time!

Pretty Yennefer closed the line, Her skilled fingers made Jaskier whine, She stirs her herbs and spices in a pot, It made Jaskier’s belly grow quite a lot! But not because she was such a talented chef lady, Rather because she may have made him a baby.

Sweet Amaryllis cries, ‘Papa, who’s my daddy?’ Jaskier is clueless, oh, that’s not dandy! Does Geralt inseminate not only horses? Or did Radovid sign the sire clauses? Was it Yennefer, who put the bun in the oven? This is what you get, dear Jaskier, when your legs are always open!

“Gotta go find Jaskier to serenade him with it as well,” Valdo said. He was lucky he made a bow just in time, because he managed to duck away from the slipper that Yennefer threw at his head.

“Get out of here!” She shrieked. “God, no wonder Jaskier hates you so much!”

“This is so insensitive!” Radovid growled. “What is wrong with you, seriously!?”

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard,” Valdo all but cackled. “Oh, Jaskier. What a mess you got yourself in, you whore.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Geralt rumbled. When his impressive bulk moved towards the door, Valdo finally realized it was smarter to flee, so that was what he did. Geralt turned back to the other two in shock.

“Can you believe this?”

“I actually am gonna murder somebody,” Yennefer growled. Radovid nodded, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“I’ll aid you.”

--

Jaskier put his forehead on his crossed arms, all but collapsing over the table. Essi cooed and gently rubbed his back.

“It’s okay, dear,” she told him sweetly, “we’re here for you.”

“I wanna die,” Jaskier whimpered, “this is a fucking soap opera. I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“Sweet cheeks,” Priscilla said, squeezing his hand gently, “I know this is bad, but you’ll get through this, too. You’re the strongest person I know. If you managed to raise Amaryllis all alone, you can do this, too.”

“You don’t understand,” Jaskier sniffled. “They weren’t just one-night stands to me. I…I loved them. I did. I…and they’re here. In my fucking inn. And Amaryllis is one of theirs. Oh, and she also wants me to get back together with the one.”

Priscilla patted his arm before she poured him another glass of vodka, neat. She didn’t even try to convince him that drinking his feelings away was a bad idea, this time.

“And what do you want?” Essi asked him. Jaskier wiped his face with a groan.

“I told you, I wanna die.”

“Seriously.”

Jaskier stared at his glass miserably. He wished he knew what he wanted- he wanted his daughter happy, that was for sure. That was the only thing he had no doubts about. And if this mess was what made her happy, then… he probably should go along with the ride. Let her pick the most likely candidate. As for dating one of them again…?

“They’re still so hot,” Jaskier whimpered, already a little too drunk. He broke down sobbing. “Why are they still so hot?”

“Oh, no, don’t go there,” Priscilla warned him. “Unless… you want to, I guess.”

Essi snorted. “Very helpful, Priscilla.”

“I’m a miserable, sad, fat, old Omega, and they’re all so goddamn gorgeous,” Jaskier lamented. He downed the vodka in one go. “I hate them, and their stupid dicks.”

“Priscilla, stop pouring him more!”

“I always forgot that damn pill!”

“Priscilla!”

“Essi, he needs it!”

“No, he really doesn’t!”

“I was a whore, and look at me now,” Jaskier sobbed, “I ruined everything! My mother was right, I’m a good-for-nothing, easy…”

“No, darling,” Essi cooed. She wrapped her arms around him, shushing him softly. Priscilla joined the hug, pressing a kiss onto the top of his head. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

Jaskier sniffled, smearing his tears and eyeliner all over his friends. He hated this so much, and most of all, himself. He could hate Geralt, Radovid, Yennefer or whoever all he wanted, but if he wasn’t like that…it wouldn’t have happened at all.

“God, I’m sorry,” he pulled back, trying to wipe the mess off his face. “This is ridiculous.”

“It is.”

Jaskier cursed under his breath at that familiar voice again. He whipped around, and indeed, there was Valdo Marx and his fucking ukulele.

“You should go away before I do something I would regret,” Jaskier growled. Valdo chuckled.

“This drunk? You wouldn’t even be able to tell your legs apart from your arms. Speaking of legs apart…”

It took both Priscilla and Essi’s strength, as well as the vodka in his system confusing his senses for him to be tackled down on the ground after he heard Valdo’s song. Otherwise, he truly would have gone down in history as the person who brutally murdered his former rival with a vodka bottle.

--

As expected, the night was very awkward.

Yennefer looked murderous cramped between Radovid and Geralt, constantly muttering something about castration under her nose. She held something soft and fluffy under her blanket, keeping it out of sight. Radovid saw it fleetingly and realized it was a plush unicorn. He bit his lip trying not to laugh, because he was sure Yennefer would’ve truly taken his balls off otherwise.

He didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, constantly worrying about whether Yennefer would actually snap and kill him in his sleep, and listening to the absolutely terrifying, industrial washing machine sounds that Geralt made. Ciri wasn’t kidding, it was the worst snores Radovid has ever heard.

He also couldn’t stop thinking about Amaryllis and Jaskier, and strangely, his thoughts kept circling back to Geralt and Yennefer as well- and about Geralt saying that maybe it was never too late… but for what, exactly? Bonding with an adult child? Getting Jaskier back? Falling in love with someone…new? Or old? Learning some things about himself?

He glanced at Yennefer who held that unicorn against her chest, looking surprisingly peaceful in her sleep. Then, he looked at Geralt, who, despite the snoring, looked very handsome with his hair spread out on the pillow under his head.

Radovid stared at the ceiling and wondered if his company at home was still intact, if nothing else was.

[rivashi]

deceived

synopsis: he’d punished everyone and anyone that dare lay a finger on you.

pairings: ???!matsukawa issei x afab!reader

genre(s): NSFW, DC, SMUT, slight angst? (idk, maybe if you squint), thriller? to wholesome, eventual fluff, established relationship, medieval fantasy!au, timeskip!au, porn w/ plot | scenario

cw: 18+, MINORS + AGELESS/FACELESS BLOGS DNI!!!, sacrifice, mentions of religious themes (kinda? idk), implied kidnapping, tied up, mentions of murder + death + corpses + blood (obviously), implied deliberate massacre, GORE [via decapitated head], minor character deaths, manipulation, yandere, size difference, monster fucking, consent, gentle to rough, public, clothed, marking, groping, nipple + clit play, oral [f receiving], cunninglingus, fingering, praise, multi orgasm [f], overstimulation, squirting, petnames [dear, darling, love, good girl], implied multi rounds.

wordcount: 3.0k holy shit, my longest fic yet

note 1: my application for the honeymoon avenue: the beach episode! by @crybabycrisis a.k.a my 1st collab piece in this new blog <3 and special thanks to @karamfilmare for beta reading <3 thank you, moni !

note 2: this is heavily inspired by the games; subnautica, subnautica: below zero, and shadow of colossus !

note 3: ironically despite the cws, the actual smut part is admittedly quite vanilla.

Today was warm and bright.

The Sun beamed brilliantly as you basked in its heat, breathing in the distinct scent of the air instead of the accustomed whiff of the chilly weather. Several eyes bore into your direction, and those within hearing range spoke in hushed tones to themselves, either completely ignorant of the fact or purposely doing so. 

Call it a hunch or instinct, but you are always most certain you are the subject of their sneaky glances and hush whispers. Especially whenever you are accompanied by the villager's Elders, their gazes harden. As much as they try their best to hide it behind their fake innocent smiles— you knew they were telling gossip about you. 

Rumors of this caliber quickly spread like wildfire around your close-knit community. In every community, there was always a person that spoke behind closed doors, and that person was… her. 

(R/N) disliked you. She openly admitted it to a fellow villager behind your back whenever she thought you weren't listening. Perhaps, she even hated you for being favored by the Elders. Perhaps, she despises how you were exempt from the physical labors because of it. Therefore, she was the perfect person to get information on the ruckus earlier.

So, you wait… 

Spending the rest of the afternoon in your hut, face buried in a book after cleaning the tiny space. The constant ticking of the clock on your wall mildly reminded you of how much time has passed. You remain seated in your lounge, waiting for the surroundings to darken like you've always had – this time to sneak out to gather intel instead of visiting your boyfriend. 

You expertly stepped out of your hut without a sound, heading towards a specific location. The skies were littered with a veil of clouds, making it easier to creep up to your destination: the Leader's hut, where the adults have their meetings at midnight. The bushes gave you plenty of cover to stand near an open window as you listened in to (R/N) carelessly informing the Council about the severe problems caused by the God in the sea.

You knew of the God who resides in the sea. Colossal Emperor, as they call it. You've heard stories from the Elders of its large stature and how it can cause rainstorms every time it resurfaces above the sea. You found the tale intriguing, as terrifying as it might sound to a child and the other village folks. You'd always visit the beach where the said God surfaces, hoping to catch a glimpse when it does. 

You shook your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. "There's only one way to stop these constant rainstorms, and I suggest we bring an offer." She proposed.

"We can't. We have limited cattle and crops." Countered by another.

"How about a human sacrifice?"

"That's inhumane! Everyone has a role in this village—"

"Besides one." Everyone fell silent, and you immediately knew who she was referring to. "She hasn't contributed to this village like the rest of us have. She served this village for no purposes besides entertaining the Elders."

What she said was the truth. Although, advantages were keeping the Elders company, such as being favored by them and being exempted from physical labor. They were not the ones in charge of this village's community. It was the Council and their Leader, Irihata Nobuteru. 

"I agree with bringing an offering for the Colossal Emperor, but," Irihata started, "we mustn't stain our hands with murder." The rest of the Council agreed with the Leader's statement, and there was a slight pause before he broke it. "How about we vote on which approach we should proceed with?"

"Who votes for bringing an offering such as food, cattle, and so? Please raise your hands." Several hands raised their hands, but it was clear that the majority would vote for the next option. "Since the majority didn't raise their hands, is it safe to assume that everybody agreed to offer a living human?" Everyone nodded.

"Let us hope this sacrifice will suffice. We can't afford another rainstorm if this fails." With that, they ended the meeting right there and then.

The following morning came, and two women from the Council were in front of you. It was really quite a sight to behold, watching them squirm and stutter at your front door as they attempt to explain your circumstances that you already knew. The shame and guilt on their faces bring you slight solace for your own sake. You didn't dare interrupt them nor ask for an explanation— you were sure they'd give you pointed and disapproving looks.

The whole village knew you were orphaned, which is why you were close to the Elders, as they were the ones who raised you as their own. Additionally, they knew you didn't have any lover they knew of – making you the perfect sacrifice to offer for the Colossal Emperor.

"… when?" You simply ask, looking down at the ground as you clenched your hands into fists while trembling slightly. A mix of emotions swirled through you: sadness, confusion, frustration, hopelessness, and… rage.

"Tonight, at sunrise." You nodded sadly in understanding before closing the door with a soft thud as you slid down against the door with your hands on your face. You knew it would eventually come to this – it was in a human's nature, after all. To simply discard those who aren't helpful to them. You just didn't know; it would be this quick for them to throw you away.

You spend your morning reflecting on your time here at the village, reliving the memories you shared with the Elders. In the afternoon, you visit them and say your goodbyes after informing them of your fate. These people were the ones who became your parents and family, especially Granny Aoi. You decided to stay there, giving them one last memory before you ultimately disappear from the village and their lives.

Night came faster than you anticipated, and you quickly sneaked out of the Elder's hut when they least expected before walking towards the Leader's hut and knocking on his door. He opened the door, revealing his relatively short yet large build.

"Yes?"

"Just in case, can you promise me that you'll evacuate the Elders and children, taking them as far away as possible?" Your abrupt request seemed to have taken him by surprise. It was unexpected. "This is my only condition."

Irihata reluctantly agreed to your favor, and you left him be for the night. This interaction, however, gave him an unsettling feeling in his gut. It was… as if you knew something that he doesn't, and he can't seem to pinpoint it. Your words stay with him, haunting him until he finally gives in. Irihata woke the Elders and children, telling them to leave the village immediately and to hide in a large cave within the forest until further notice.

Meanwhile, you walked down the beach to visit your boyfriend. This was located underneath a cliff just a few miles away from the village. The Elders have always warned you to avoid that cliff as the Colossal Emperor is said to snatch unsuspecting people there whenever he resurfaces. Yet, he never appears whenever you are there.

But you did meet him there whom you've met purely by chance. It was at night during one of the rainstorms that the said God would cause, and yet, you didn't see a towering monster – what you saw was a man in the water, staring off at the cloudy skies above. You learned that his name was Matsukawa Issei. You're not exactly sure what drew you to him in the first place – he was mysterious and brooding from a distance. Still, with you, he was easy-going and always managed to make you laugh somehow.

A smile forms on your lips as you spot him leaning against the edge of the docks with his lower half submerged in water. "Is it finally the day, my dear?" He asks with a toothy grin when you reach him, and you give a grin of your own in return. 

"Indeed, it is, my love."

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

The cold rain breeze made you shiver as you woke up, tied up on a wooden post that was promptly embedded into the ground. The rain trickled heavily, covering your surroundings in a thick mist. Despite this, you can still trace multiple silhouettes in front of you. Besides the crashing waves beneath you and the loud rain pouring, you could still make out a… prayer?

In your stunned state, it sounded almost like a ritual. But before you could recover from your daze – the post you were tied to suddenly spun around, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped in horror when you faced the cliff edge. The uneasiness in your stomach grows as you stare at your fate.

Will this be the end? Will this really be how I leave this cruel world by being sacrificed to a God I don't believe in?

A sting of pain on your palm managed to bring you back to reality – a warm liquid dripped down from your hand. You could almost whiff the scent of blood through the overpowering combined smell of the earthy soils of the forest nearby and the briny waters of the sea below.

Then, you and your companions hear the sounds of water splashing on the rocks underneath and accompanied by a low roar. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you came face-to-face with the humongous anomaly.

"Oh, Colossal Emperor, please accept this humble offering from us, and in exchange, would you be so kind as to ease these rainstorms?"

The creature brought up a clawed limb, tearing through your bindings, before picking you up in its hand and staring at you. The villagers below rejoiced by God's acceptance of their offering; however, they soon realized that the storm wasn't easing away.

Confusion was written on their faces as they watched the Colossal Emperor open its hand and see you stand on its palm with a triumphant smile. Their confusion slowly turns into fear as it lets out a deep growl when it inspects your wounded hand.

You dared lay a finger on her?

It spoke telepathically in their minds. The voice sounded of a male human with a deep and alluring tone. They could also hear the low rumbling noise from its throat as it raises itself more, showing its proper height to the people.

"We've offered you a sacrifice!" A council refuted.

It clicked its tongue. You hurt her.

"It was necessary!"

Was it? It chuckles darkly. How foolish of you to think I control these storms when I simply emerge when it happens? It paused for a second, letting its words sink in. A shame, really. You all could've lived but

Anyone that touches what's mine is punishable… by death. 

The rain had ceased, and the sunlight shone brightly through the cracks of the clouds in the sky. There you were in your soaked and mud-covered white dress, standing eerily still at the center of bloodied corpses of the adults and former Council members – except one. You crouched down to Irihata's eye level, his blood-covered body trembled as he stared at (R/N) 's decapitated head at the front of his feet.

"Why?" He asked desperately and almost pathetically in a hoarse tone while looking up at you. You saw the immersed feelings of suffering and anguish in his eyes that were practically eating him alive.

You offer him a kind smile, making him almost forget the whole ordeal. "Because you deserved it, leader."

"For you, death is a mercy you aren't entitled to." 

Again, your words echoed in his mind. A forever reminder of his failure to protect his people who were with him as he watched your retreating figure, leaving him there to wallow in his thoughts. You were practically glowing in excitement as you walked back toward your lover at the idea of your new lives together.

He again lowers his palm to the ground, just enough for you to climb onto it. Lifting it up to stare at each other, wordlessly communicating before slowly pushing his torso off the cliff, preparing to take his leave with you. 

"Wait!" Irihata yelled, running to the cliff's edge and hoping to catch up on you before you left. But he was too late, both of you – you and the Colossal Emperor vanished with a massive splash before he could even reach the edge.

You two quickly arrived at your stop, just as hasty as you left. Matsukawa settles you down on a beach shore after roughly dragging you underwater. The wet smooth gritty sand beneath you clang onto your bare feet and in its crevasses, making you cringe at the contact before it was washed away by the tide.

 "We make a pretty good team, don't we?" You turn to face him, mirroring his twisted grin. "I still can't believe it worked." Although still towering over you like a predator, his current form resembles a human-sized scale and height

This, whichever form he took – either his monster form or his humanoid form, was the man you fell madly in love with and would do anything for him— even dirtying your hands with blood.

"You doubted me?" You gasped dramatically and playfully at his reaction, arching a brow in amusement. He shakes his head while chuckling, making you join him promptly afterward.

"No. Of course not, dear." He starts, "I didn't think it would be this easy. It went just as you told me, step-by-step and bit-by-bit."

The early events were all a part of your plan. It started with a misunderstanding about being exempted from physical labor— you weren't, never was, and never will be. However, you planted a seed of doubt in them by letting them think that you are, and they fell right through your trap. The rest you predicted in due time, planting more lies to grow their hatred and pettiness towards you until it ultimately led to their demise.

Your thoughts are interrupted by his excellent hands cupping your face, making you look up and into his dark-colored eyes— only to be taken aback at the rare display of raw emotions: a mixture of adoration and devotion swelling in his eyes. Unable to look away, you watch him glance between you and your lips.

"May I?" You nodded, and his lips captured yours immediately, making you melt into him. The little, breathy sounds you made were driving him to his limit. He so desperately wants you. Teeth grazing slightly on your bottom lip as he sucks on it, fingers twined into your hair and clenching into a fist, tugging on it slightly and earning an airy gasp from you.

When you part with your lips, Matsukawa instantly shoves his tongue down onto you and expertly explores your mouth for the first time. You pull him closer, removing the little distance between you and him. You found yourself snaking your arms around his neck as his tentacles wrapped around your legs, effectively trapping you.

Matsukawa hurriedly untangles his tentacles around you, lifting you up in his arms with your legs securely hooked around his waist before carrying you over to a rock near the shoreline. He gingerly places you on the rather large flat surface. Goosebumps ghost on your skin upon contact with the rock's cool and smooth texture as he grinds his slightly opened cloaca against your clothed sex.

You whimper into the kiss before pulling away and looking up into his eyes with uncertainty and desire as he peers down at you. "You do not need to worry. Just relax, leave everything to me… Let me take care of you." He says, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face and pressing soft kisses all over it.

He starts rubbing your shoulders and arms just as you like it, making you relax and sensitive at his touch. You feel an unfamiliar writhing appendage slipped inside your dress, tugging at the collar and revealing your breasts to your lover while another pair grabbed your ankles, spreading your legs more to him. At the same time, he continues to hump against you. 

His lips are now on your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, and marking it with love bites. "Mine." Matsukawa said possessively, his lips trailing down as two tentacles groped your now exposed breasts with their suckers, pinching and tugging your nipples.

A gasp ripped from your throat as two more of his tendrils pried your legs apart by your ankles, making your dress hiked up to your hips. Exposing your soaked underwear to your lover's eyes for the first time. Another large one slithered around your waist, keeping you still, while a smaller one pushed your panties to the side.

Instantly, his mouth attaches itself to your dripping cunt, lapping and sucking like a starved man without a care. So pussy drunk on making sure your pussy is fully coated in his saliva. At the same time, he crudely groans, the vibrations shaking you to your core. His only focus is on you, the way you keen and writhe beneath him. Not caring about how obscenely drenched your pussy gets or how roughly you tug on the curly locks of his, practically living for it. "Such a pretty hole… So delectable." Heat rushes throughout your body as he mumbles praise after praise, making you forget your worries and nervousness. And only focus on the newfound pleasure you are experiencing. 

His lips moved to your clit, sucking with his tongue. Flicking and twirling around the sensitive nerve, he plunged two fingers inside your entrance, slowly stretching you out. You were already pulsing around him while you let out unfiltered moans, whimpering as he touched every sensitive spot of your gummy walls. He felt you spasm, warning him of your climax. It only takes a few more thrusts to send you over the edge. 

But he doesn't stop. Matsukawa continues ripping through orgasm and orgasm, again and again from you. It wasn't until you squirt from overstimulation that he pulled away reluctantly with what little resolved left in him. His longing eyes peer down to see your eyes half shut, your mouth open with drool on the corner of your lips.

"Don't fall asleep now. I'm not done with you yet."

[sugamamacustard]

Paparazzi

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Atsumu Miya x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Yuji Terushima x Omega! Reader

Genre: little angst, ends in fluff

Request:Allow me to be chaotic for a minute 😌 Since Oikawa, Atsumu, and Terushima have fangirls, I’d love to request Hc’s or a small drabble of them crushing on a cute new fem!student who takes no shit and throws hands at the fangirls whenever they harass her (She tries to be nice to them at first and explain that she isn’t trying to steal their idol but you could only be so kind to rabid fangirls). The only cliche thing here is Y/N doesn’t immediately crush on the guys so the fangirls dislike her for how casual and nice she is to them but I’m just tired of Y/N never standing up to them or at least needing to be defended by the idol. This Y/N is friendly and kind to others but would punch someone in the throat with a smile on her face.Let’s say Y/N is partnered with the guys on an assignment and the fangirls see them together a lot and try to intimidate Y/N by ganging up on her or embarrassing her, so Y/N just decks one of them in the face with a smile before continuing the conversation with the guy like nothing happened. The poor guys can’t decide if they’re terrified or aroused but Y/N’s like “Put these maggots in their place or I’ll put em in the hospital. Do what you will with this promise 😃”

Author’s Note: I wanna read more stuff about the fangirls but I don’t know where to find it. :( Is it Tooru or Toru?

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Fighting, mentions of blood.

Toru Oikawa

➵ Honestly, we all know his fangirls are rabid. They are mean and cruel, and honestly its a wonder none of them have been like...arrested.

➵ You had heard horror stories from your cousin. She was the manager of the volleyball team and explained her and her, now, alpha had to deal with one that went straight up feral.

➵ God, you sometimes wondered how no one had snapped on them yet.

➵ They were everywhere you were too! Their so called idol was in your class and they followed him everywhere.

➵ You didn’t even see what the big deal was about. His best friend was way hotter in your humble, correct, opinion.

➵ You had to shove your way through crowds for every single one of your classes. It was painful at this point.

➵ Oikawa was no help either, egging them on by constantly flirting with you.

➵ You kept your head up high though, rebutting his constant flirting with snarky and snide remarks.

➵ Honestly the perfect girl in his humble and correct opinion.

➵ Of course, he always ditched his fan girls the moment he caught whiff of your salivating scent.

➵ They weren't happy about that.

➵ They also weren't very happy when Toru left his normally late practice, purring he had a study session with you for an upcoming project.

➵ Yeah, that was the start of Armageddon.

➵"Hey!"

➵Groaning, you prepped yourself for the onslaught of useless spats that came with the onslaught of his fangirls. Plastering on an all too fake smile.

➵"Yes, hello? I sure hope you aren't talking to me like that."

➵You really said :))) Test me bitches

➵"What do you think you're doing?"

➵"Trying to pass my English class?"

➵The answer seemed to anger the beta who tried cornering you.

➵ Her arm raised and swung and with all expecting outcomes, one would expect a smack to ring out.

➵ Oikawa did at least, as he had caught the tail end of the argument coming to find you as you were late for your meet-up. And you were never late

➵ He moved to try and break the 'fight' up, only to stand shocked when he saw you, the beta's arm caught in your tight grip with the same smile on your face.

➵ "I really hope you weren't trying to hit me just now." You purred, squeezing the wrist in your grip until the beta was whining under you.

➵ When you let go you shoved her away with a grin still on your face before moving on, passing Oikawa who stood shocked.

➵"Keep those fangirls in check, Oikawa. Wouldn't want their pretty faces getting hurt." You beamed, skipping off to the library.

➵ The alpha had to take a minute in the bathroom before catching up to you :)

Yuji Terushima

➵ OKAY THIS MAN-

➵ I feel like his fangirls would try and get close to you rather than get you away from Terushima.

➵ Like they would use you to get to him.

➵ If that makes sense.

➵ Of course you knew about this, your brain is super wrinkled.

➵ They would try to befriend you to get close to the alpha that seemed to hang off of you.

➵ You were in-training to be the new co-manager and almost immediately Terushima had latched onto you like a leech.

➵ Scenting you and preening you, making sure you made it to each of your classes on time.

➵ He just liked spending time with you okay?!!

➵ Anyway, so he knew that his fangirls presented a bit of an issue, especially when he tried sifting who actually liked him, not his persona

➵Was he worried? No-

➵ At first he was a little worried, but you proved him wrong like you often did.

➵ You had been doing your manager thing, cleaning up stray balls, setting aside flats, adjusting the net height, etc... when it happened.

➵ An omega a little taller than yourself had ran into the gym, angry and snarling. She had walked right up to you, making you furrow a brow.

➵ "I am sick and tired of this! I've been nothing but nice to you," One of her fingers waggled in your face. "And it's gotten me nowhere! You are just as useless as I thought you were and I'm so fucking sick of it.

➵"I'm sorry you feel that way-"

➵ "No your fucking not, you fake ass-" Her hand raised and swung, but you caught her wrist in your tight grasp, quickly using your other hand to smack her.

➵ Yuji and the rest of the team watched in awe (And maybe arousal for a certain faux blond) as the omega collapsed on the ground, holding her cheek.

➵ "Just because you and your dumbass friends thought your plan would work does not mean it's my responsibility to ensure it does." You sneered, snarling down at her to prove your place in the pack. "And it never will be. Know your fucking place."

➵ Yuji followed you like a lost dog as you left, making sure you didn't pick another fight while the others helped the other girl.

➵ He had no choice otherwise his teammates would tease him relentlessly for his lovesick alpha

Atsumu Miya

➵ His fangirls 1v1 Oikawa's fangirls.

➵Straight up, like it would be a blood bath.

➵ But you weren't scared. You were and are a bad bitch.

➵ Probably why you had Atsumu begging for attention tbh

➵ Love bullying is his love language and you can pry this from my cold dead hands

➵ You always, without a doubt, give him a hard time (Teasingly of course) and it drives him bonkers.

➵ Like you don't take shit from anybody

➵And having you paired with him for this upcoming project was a dream come true.

➵ It was a simple project but it meant he got to spend time with you!

➵you!

➵ Of course, he feared what his fangirls would do to you but he had a feeling you'd be okay no matter what.

➵ He'd be there as much as he could, and hopefully that would deter the fangirls from trying anything.

➵Right? Flawless logic despite what Osamu says

➵ ANYWAY-

➵He thought this to be flawless until you proved him otherwise.

➵ You had began working on the project since Atsumu was running a bit late (He texted you a teacher needed to talk to him, and you understood)

➵ What you didn't understand was the horde of angry betas, omegas and alphas approaching you. About six in total.

➵ "Stay away from Atsumu." One of them, a red haired alpha, snapped, slamming a hand on the lunch room table.

➵ "Look, I already have a feeling I know where this is going, but I'm not interested. I just want to finish the project-"

➵"Likely story!" A beta from the back yelled.

➵The alpha in front of you grimaced, snapping her fingers as an omega dutifully placed a milk carton in her hand.

➵ "Seems we need a little more than words to get it through your fat head." the milk carton was opened and raised over your head.

➵ You rolled your eyes before the carton began tipping. When the first drops of cold banana milk spilled onto your head you acted.

➵ Atsumu had run in only to see you grab the wrist above your head, push it so the milk whipped back at your assailant while your other hand landed a crisp smack on the alpha's cheeks.

➵ The group, Atsumu included, stood stunned as you gathered your bag, pulling out a change of clothes and moving to go change.

➵Atsumu felt his heart stop when you placed a hand on his shoulder, a sweet grin on your face.

➵ "Keep your fangirls in check, 'Tsumu, or I'll have to do it for you." You beamed before moving to go change.

➵ He only found himself nodding absentmindedly, trying to fight the red creeping up his neck.

➵ "Respectively step on me."

➵"I can still here you, 'Tsumu."

[houkuaichuii]

Take My Heart & Soul

“FIC EXCHANGE. I’LL GIVE YOU THE JEALOUS-PINING-MUSTANG ANGST AND YOU GIVE ME THE ANASTASIA AU.” - Chie, 2k17.

So a couple of days ago, I had a lovely discussion with Sarah (@queenwinry), which led to me screaming at her for an Anastasia!AU RoyAi fic of the famous boat scene, whilst offering this very angsty piece in return. I do highly suggest to read her one-shot after this as a pick-me-up! So make sure to do that!!

Word Count: 3,450.

Warning: Roy’s a... well, he’s drunk and he’s sad. I was not drunk during the process of writing this, however; I was just sad.

There was something unspoken about the winter air within the East City walls, something to which the drunken man could barely describe. It was calming, more so as the feeling of numbness ran through his fingers and his toes. However, he knew that there was much more to it than he could comprehend. Perhaps it was the way it nearly made him forget the ache within him, the pain that had taken place somewhere in his chest and called it its home. Or perhaps it could have been the number of drinks he had that night, but he shook his head at the notion and told himself that he was perfectly fine and was far from the edge.

He hadn’t appeared so intoxicated either; just a man who was enjoying a stroll during an ungodly hour. But Roy Mustang was a man who had mastered the game of facades, and was more than skilled enough to hide the truth to his character when it suited him.

So yes, he was drunk; his focus a haze, his mind a mess, but he knew where he was going as he walked through the empty streets. He followed a path he knew quite well, to a destination that was entirely committed to his memory through more ways than one. Or at least he believed so.

He was going home, that was what he convinced himself to do as he exited a deserted bar. But where was his home? Was it the empty apartment in between Fourth Ave and the Sixth, or was it a woman, who was enjoying her date with another? At the thought of the latter, short laughter escaped him, his heart far from being in it. Then again, his heart was never with him to begin with, as it was with the woman for as long as he could remember.

He had unknowingly given it as a whole, and once upon a time, he surmised that she had done the same. It was the basic belief of equivalent exchange; the well-known law of alchemy. And he, as an alchemist, nonetheless, lived by those words. But it seemed like he was proven wrong at some point, because of all things considered, it was more than obvious that her heart was not his to keep.

So many emotions dwelt in his core, just as how so many unanswered questions ran through that head of his. He was supposed to be a genius, the epitome of brilliance, an erudite--- he was the Hero of Ishval, the man who climbed the ranks too fast for his age. And yet there he was with his gaze dropped to the pavement, sadness claiming the colour of his eyes. He looked so wrong, he felt wrong too, though he could not bring himself to blame anyone else for the pain he was drowning in.

He waited far too long, assumed that he still had time, that she would have still been there at the end of the line. The universe, however, had other plans and the joke was on him. God, what a fool he was.

A selfish fool.

Roy knew that he should have been happy for her, even if it meant that her happiness did not mean him. He had acknowledged it long ago that she deserved someone better; someone who had not betrayed her trust, someone who did not remind her of a war, someone who saved her life rather than a broken man who was constantly dragging it into harm’s way. The woman he loved was in a good place, and he should have been content with such a simple fact. But the truth was the truth, and he was anything but. He was miserable, surrounded by darkness and living under a grey cloud.

And so he walked, and he walked, and he walked, the chill of winter biting at his nose and his cheeks. How does one escape the dark when the sun had left?

Everywhere he went, the whispers were there. There were the looks, the rumours that just did not stop. It all began as a simple matter, the idea that a doctor had plans to court the brigadier-general’s adjutant. It became a joke in the office, and at first, the woman in subject had no means to hold it in any form of regard. But everyone saw that the man was quite serious in the way he’d send in flowers, until he suddenly came to seek the captain for a dinner.

Of course jealousy had struck Roy immediately, and he was more than tempted to step forward. But noting that she deserved a break and that it was most likely a one-time thing, he merely held his tongue.

The action was evidently a bad choice, for dinners happened again, and numerous times after, leading to the words of engagement to reach his ears.

And that was when he had finally felt the soles of his feet hit rock bottom.

Everyone looked at him with confusion in their glances, wondering as to what his thoughts truly were. He kept to himself about the matter, albeit letting out a casual smile here, and his usual shrug there. “The Captain is in warrant of a happy ending, we should all just congratulate her.” Was what he told them. Even his ‘sisters’ heard of the talk, a flash of pity in their eyes whenever an Elizabeth was mentioned by someone who was uninformed. Still, he posed the image that he was truly all right, although those who knew him also knew otherwise.

How long he walked for, he could not say, but at the end of the night, he was climbing up a set of stairs. He counted the floors as he passed them amidst his daze, till he stopped in front of a certain door. He stared at it, his chest empty, yet heavy; his shoulders slouched in spite of being overcome with familiarity. He fished his key out of his pockets, but when it came to unlocking the door, it would not turn. He cursed under his breath, thinking that what he held in his hand was the key for the car he had left behind.

“What. A. Fucking. Idiot,” He called himself, banging his head against the door in defeat, one word after the other, “Can’t even get yourself into your own apartment.”

He was just so tired; beyond exhaustion as everything pulled back to port. He hadn’t been this bad since Hughes, but even then, he still had her: the only constant thing in his life.

To which will become not so constant anymore, for she’s been ripped out of his grasp before he even got a chance. He thought himself pathetic, all the while hating the man who stole the person he once called his.

Roy was supposed to be the one to show her the endless love and affection that he always did have for her. He was supposed to be the one who’d wake her up with kisses, who’d whisper sweet promises into her ear in the warmth of their bed. He was supposed to be the one who’d hold her hand as they took a walk through the park, letting Hayate chase the butterflies that would have caught his attention. He was supposed to be the one who’d wake up in the middle of night, just to soothe the cries of a child. Their child.

Roy was supposed to be the one to take her as his wife, to have and to hold, for better and for worst, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death did them part.

He was supposed to be the one, as she was the only one for him.

Drunk and alone with his thoughts, Roy was about to sit himself down onto the floor when the knob turned and the door was pulled open. A slightly dishevelled blonde peered at him from the other side, surprise entirely too transparent in the eyes that had watched over him for so long. He was surprised as well, so to speak, because what in the world was his captain doing in his apartment? He mirrored her look through his own bleariness, blinking to clear his view.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, concern loud in her voice.

“What are you doing here?” He returned.

There was a pause as Hawkeye scrutinised him, a crease between her perfectly lined brows; question evident in her expression. She then stepped out and closed the door behind her, holding onto the robe that she wore.

“Did you go out drinking with the boys again, sir?”

He shrugged, “Possibly, I don’t really remember. But what are you doing here?”

“This is my apartment.”

Well, that certainly said a lot.

As realisation dawned on him, Roy released a breath, then a scoff. His gaze dropped to the floor, eyes closing without a single reply. So this was where home was--- it was where his legs had led him to. What a joke. The place he considered as home wasn’t even his own, and there he was, standing before her like a lost dog. He should have apologised and bid his goodnight, but his mind was awake and he couldn’t stop what he said next.

“Please tell me you didn’t say ‘yes’, Hawkeye.”

“Sir?”

“That--- that man, I believe that he asked for your hand in marriage. Tell me that you didn’t accept the proposal.”

“I...”

“Goddamn it, Hawkeye!” He looked at her then, albeit too fast that the world suddenly turned and he stumbled back before regaining his footing. He saw her move forward, hands reaching out to steady him, but he lifted up his palm and breathed. No, he wasn’t allowed to feel her touch, lest he was willing to lose the small control he had left.

What a shameful sight he made; face red from the alcohol, his hair unruly from the amount of times he ran his fingers through it during the night. Then to add to the list, he had just shouted at his captain even though she was far from being at fault. He shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but it was where his heart was and it seemed like his mind wanted it back; as if he was ever going to get it back.

Roy looked at the woman again, stared as he searched for words to say.

I’m sorry.

Don’t go to him.

Please don’t leave me.

I don’t want to lose you.

I can’t lose you.

I’ve always loved you.

I love you.

It was Hawkeye who broke the silence, however.

“Sir, would you like for me to walk you home?”

“Please don’t marry him.” Was the answer he gave. As short and concise as it was, it was no more than a whisper; a plea as others would have called it. “Don’t do it, Riza.”

If he hadn’t been so intoxicated, he would have noticed the effect that her first name had on her. He would have seen how her eyes widened slightly, her hand tightening its hold on her bathrobe. It was her turn to stare at him, keeping up a mask of coolness. But after a moment or so, she swallowed faintly and spoke.

“Roy, I don’t think we should discuss this matter right now.”

“Really? Because I think that this is the best time to talk about this.”

“No, it’s really not. You’re not in the right state to organise your thoughts and this discussion is over.”

“Riza, if you would just listen to me---”

She cut him off there, the sharp edge of a knife heard in her tone, “You’re drunk; you don’t even know what you’re saying, let alone will remember when you wake up tomorrow.”

“To hell I don’t!” Roy finally snapped, causing for the other to steel herself as he chose to continue, “And even if I don’t remember what I say tonight, I’ll be fine as long as I say it. You need to hear this, Riza. I need to say this, because if I don’t...”

“Roy, don’t do this.”

“If I don’t tell you that I love you now, when will I ever?”

A pause.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked.

Taking in a deep breath as he moved back against the wall behind him, Roy tried to clear his incoherent mind. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the stranger that the other might become once he said his piece. After all, he almost lost her once before, and was on the verge of losing her again. The fear sickened him to no end, even through his uninhibited state. But the truth was in dire need to be expressed, and everyone knew that a drunken man’s words were a sober man’s thoughts.

“Because I’m scared, Riza,” He told her, “I’m scared of losing you.”

He heard her step towards him tentatively, the sound of her footfall loud amongst the silence that had then fallen upon them. Still, he kept himself in the dark, finding comfort in it.

“I thought I still had time, I thought that this could wait until I reached my goal--- I thought that you knew. But then the doctor came out of nowhere, and... I don’t know. I wanted to stop it, though. I wanted to say something to stop him from pursuing you, but when I saw you laughing with him, I just couldn’t take that happiness away from you.

“You deserve it. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve this happy ending, and who am I to stop you from getting it? I’ve asked myself this question so many times throughout these past several months, and each time I do, I never get an answer. I tell myself that I have no right to step into your affairs, that you’re free to choose whomever you like. But at the same time, I realise that I’m as selfish as anyone and I start to hope that you’d find something you don’t like about him.”

Another moment of quietude, filled with nothing but a sigh from him.

“But seeing as to how things have turned out, that obviously didn’t happen and now here I am: drunk, tired, wishing that I was the one who’d hold you, wishing that I was able to freely show my love for you whenever I choose to; wishing that I was that man.

“I love you, Riza Hawkeye. And the more I think about it, the more I know that I always did love you. From the first moment you opened that door back when I was just starting out my apprenticeship, and up until this very moment, I’ve loved you.

“I love your smile, how it’s so subtle and hidden; it’s been the same for as long as I’ve known you. I love the focus in your eyes, the way your eyebrows furrow together when something’s in your mind. I love your determination, your courage, and your compassion. You are an amazing woman, Hawkeye; one hell of a woman, really.”

And as he readied himself for his final words, Roy had set his gaze upon her. What he found was unexpected, however, as rather than meeting the amber eyes he loved so dearly, what he saw was a woman with her head down, her blonde hair a curtain around her features. She had a hand to her mouth, her shoulders seemingly trembling.

“I’m sorry for all of the times I’ve hurt you. You deserve someone better than me. But Riza, please don’t go to him. Please don’t leave me. I’m not... I’m not telling you this as your commanding officer, but I’m asking you this as the boy who grew up with you, who has only ever considered you.

“I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I can’t lose you. It is not that I don’t want to lose you, but it is more of the fact that I can’t. I know that it makes me sound selfish and egotistical, but I’m far from caring about my image at this point. This is the truth of how I feel for you, and I just need you to know that whatever happens, I will always love you.”

Unmoving from her spot, Riza did not respond, and Roy wanted nothing more than to envelope her into an embrace. For the first time in a long while, she looked so small, as delicate as he remembered her to be before the horrid of war. Oh, how he would have loved to go back to those times, when everything was simple and it was only the two of them in their world; no one else.

Just little Roy and Riza, the children who ran through open fields, the lake behind the trees being their destination. They were the children who walked under the moonlit sky, finally heading home after getting groceries from the nearby town. They were the youth who studied in candlelight together, secrets whispered between them. Just little Roy and Riza, the children who made promises to one another and were determined to keep them. Without a doubt, the promises were kept and new ones were made in their adulthood, forever binding them together.

Or maybe not.

“Riza?” Roy called, the silence suddenly becoming unbearable.

When she looked up, he was taken aback by the redness of her eyes, the tears that glinted under the hallway’s lighting. He clenched his teeth together, his hands curling into fists. He had hurt her again, and she was crying because of him. What was wrong with him?

“You are such a complete idiot,” Her voice cracked as she attempted to stifle her crying, causing for something within Roy to shatter, “Why couldn’t you just listen to me? I told you not to do this, and yet you still continued to make everything so complicated.”

Roy couldn’t hide the hurt that quickly struck his expression, her words understood immediately. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t form a response that would not have led the entire situation to an argument. Despite being as inebriated as he was then, he was earnest enough to note that he had done enough damage for the night. And so, he pushed himself off the wall, hands in his coat’s pockets and looked down on his polished shoes.

“You’re right. Maybe it would have been best if I hadn’t told you the truth, but you deserved to hear it, at least.” With that said, he squared his shoulders and raised his chin, his eyes quite sombre in comparison to the strength in his voice, “You should go back in, Captain, I’ve kept you out here long enough.”

At that second, the door opened and a man revealed himself groggily. He looked at Riza, who kept her back to him, before averting his attention to Roy. Traces of sleep was still visible across his chiselled features, and it did not go unnoticed that he was, in fact, shirtless. Roy nearly scorned at the sight of the other, vehemence growing in his being. Of course he was there, Roy wasn’t even surprised anymore.

Besides that, if he weren’t so in control, he might have set him aflame.

“Riza? What are you doing out here, it’s four in the morning.” The man asked, blinking the slumber away.

But before Hawkeye could answer, Brigadier-General Mustang spoke up, “I just needed to ask her a few things about the case. My apologies, I would have waited until later, but something urgent came up.”

“Some of us do need to sleep, Mustang,” The other countered, “Especially when Riza needs to rest after you make her work hard all day.”

“Matthew,” It was Hawkeye who raised her voice, “It’s fine. I was all ready awake and the case is vital, so it was only right for him to come to me as soon as possible. Go back in, I’ll join you soon.”

Just when the man was about to open his mouth for another retort, Mustang cleared his throat in interruption and said, “I’ve extended my stay long enough and I’ve heard what I needed to hear. Besides, the doctor’s right, you need to rest. Good night, Captain.” He gave his adjutant a short nod, although not quite meeting her eyes. He then ignored the other man, walking past him as he made his way back to the stairs. He could feel their attention on him with each measured step, his mind blank, except for the acknowledgment of the gnawing ache throughout his chest.

What a fool he was.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

the bond series was written to perfection i’ll always go back to it again and again, some spare old dog/pup scraps whenever please 🤲🏻

Observance

Notes: This was gonna be short but...I'll level with y'all, I was editing this and I was like 'yeah you know what sexy scene time'. This post would've gone up like a whole-ass hour ago with 1.6K less in it. Also Not Beta-Read. Also also if the dog Holly is unfamiliar to you, you can check out this Old Dog Christmas drabble. Length: 5.4K

Warnings: Canon-typical violence; cursing; angst; fluff; explicit sexual content—oral sex (male); fingering; spitting;  blindfolds; bondage; hand-on-throat (so not quite choking)

“Please—Please.” There’s a quiver in Breanna’s voice that makes your stomach twist. You know that she wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely necessary. You’re not sure which part makes you more nervous—the fact that there’s a quiver in her voice, or the favor she's asking for is absolutely necessary. “Alright,” You conceded resignedly, “Alright—Gimme twelve hours.” “TWELVE—” “I gotta sort my shit here before I can help you, Bre.” You feel a touch guilty for snapping at her. You know that she doesn’t ask to upset you. “...Sort it fast and make it a short twelve,” Breanna orders before hanging up. You lower your phone, sighing softly and peering down at the phone, eyeing the time of the call as it flashes before returning to your home screen: a picture of James asleep on the couch, with Holly and Bernard sitting on his chest and legs respectively.

The painless choice would be to leave James a note—to let him know that you had something come up, and not to worry. But you know now that the painless choice is rarely the right one, and while James acted as such before, you don’t wish to pay him back in kind.

You know what that feels like—it leaves a person hollow, deflated, like a popped balloon. And while there were moments in your time away from him that you wished the feeling on him, you don’t wish it on him now.

--

“I need to go to Brussels for a few days,” You tell him. He hasn’t asked yet, but he’s been looking at your packed suitcase by the door since he came in. “...Work?” He asks, tone deceivingly light and nonchalant. “Not exactly,” You shrug, equally deceiving in your nonchalance, “A friend needs help.” “A work friend?” “...Sort of,” You manage, “Not MI6.” “From?” “The navy. She’s in a tough spot, needs help. I’ve already asked Moneypenny to come over and walk and feed the dogs if you’re sent out. Q’s in reserve, so.” “...While I do love them, my first concern wasn’t for the dogs.” “That is very rich coming from a man who came back from his last mission with a cast around his arm—” “Pup—” “And a bandage wrapped around his head like he was in a hospital ward in the First World War.” “You said it was dashing.” “I was trying to cheer you up. You seemed very put out.” “Well—” “Don’t get me wrong, you did look like a dashing air force pilot from 1915—” “Why does this friend need your help?” You purse your lips, lowering your eyes and pushing your food around your plate. It’s an excellent question: one that you knew he would ask, and one that you knew you didn’t have a good answer for. “I um—” You clear your throat, “I don’t entirely know. She didn’t want to get into it over the phone.” “Concerning.” “A little, yes.” “You trust her?” You lift your head, waiting for Bond to set his drink down before catching his eye. “Breanna pulled me off of a sinking ship. I’ve trusted her with my life before, and I would again. She needs my help, I’m going.” “Alright,” Bond concedes, leaning back in his seat, “When?” “…In about three hours.” “Three?” Now Bond looks truly disapproving. “I just got back.” “I know. James, we…We don't plan for shit to happen, it just…It just happens.” “...I want updates.” “Even if you’re at work?” “Yes.” “You know that’s an awful idea.” “How do I know that.” “James.” “...I’ve had worse ideas.” “Well. That’s true, at least.”

--

“Do you ever think about our anniversary?”

The question catches you off-guard, and you freeze in your patting down your pockets, looking for your passport.

“I...Our anniversary?” You repeat, brow furrowing, “Do we have one?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself, lately.” Bond looks oddly contemplative as his eyes roam your suitcase, and the coat thrown over the top. “What spurred that though?” “Moneypenny.” “Ah, yes. She and her boyfriend just had their—third?” “Mm.” Bond folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the arm of the couch. “I feel like we’ve too many options.” “What, to choose from?” You laugh, unable to help it, but Bond answers, “Yes,” With all seriousness.

“Well, let’s see,” You sigh, resuming your search for your passport, “There’s…The first time we fucked.” “Mm. The first time we went to the seaside.” “Which I’d rather not use.” “Understandable...The first time I saw you on Naxos…The first time I saw you after I returned to MI6.” “Yes, what a memorable hallway.” “The first time we fucked after I returned to MI6.” “The self-flagellation that you put yourself through when you let me ask most of the questions that I had.” “Exactly.” You walk over to the couch, searching through your purse. “Do you have a preference?” You ask, glancing at Bond as he twists to look at you. “...Could observe all of them—except the seaside.” You chuckle softly. “Fascinating tactic, Commander.” “How so?” “Should you forget to celebrate one or the other, you’ve another two or three chances within the year to make up for it.” “I didn’t even think about that.” “Oh no?” You ask as your fingers close around your passport. “Nn-nn.” You give Bond a disbelieving glance as you straighten up from your purse, zipping it shut. “...Is your passport in there?” Bond asks. “Yes.” “Good.” “I have to go.” “...Yeah,” Bond mutters, lowering his gaze his head. You walk around to stand in front of him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and sliding a hand up to play with his hair at his nape. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Bond nods, lifting his head to meet your eyes, “I know you will.” “So you can wipe that little concerned furrow from between your brows.” You lean in, pressing a peck over the furrow. You smile as you hear James huff out a soft laugh. His arms unfold as he reaches out, curling his fingers in the fabric of your sweater. You lower your head, resting your forehead against Bond’s for a moment before you kiss him gently. As you’re shifting to walk away, his hand slips up to curl around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You sigh softly, leaning into his chest. There’s something about the way James kisses you these days—it’s softer, more of a tender embrace. It’s still passionate, you still feel held by him, and cared for. But the way the two of you kiss now is far more familiar, more settled than your first encounter. You wouldn’t change it for the world. You force yourself to lean away and straighten up, cupping his face gently. “Mind your six,” Bond sighs, “And try not to get your head blown off.” “Yessir,” You grin. “And tell me when you get there.” --

“...Holy shit, Breanna,” You manage, looking at the crazy wall in front of you. It takes up the entirety of her living room wall, with red string tracing to a map in the center. “When’s the last time this living room saw sunlight?” You ask, eyeing the closed curtains before turning to look at your former shipmate. She’s in rough condition—her long, dark hair is pulled into a loopy, oily bun; her hazel eyes are bloodshot; she gnaws at her chipped nails as she glances at you. “Well?” She asks, thrusting her hand toward the wall. “‘Well’ what? There are better ways to repaper your walls, Bre.” Breanna scoffs, dropping her finger from her mouth and waving your closer. “Just—listen.”

--

“Okay…Okay, I think we ought to start by gathering intel on the majority leader for the purposes of building out the case. It would be easiest for me to get in there—” You’re cut off by your cell phone ringing, and you fumble with it. You’re ready to hang up on it, but you see the name and curse. “Shit—Shit, Bre, I have to take this, hang on,” You step away from her, ducking into her kitchen and answering the call. “Hi,” You greet. “So you aren’t dead.” “I’m sorry,” You sigh, running your hand over your hair, “I got here and things got…We went right to work.” James sighs softly on the other end. You can picture him leaning back against the counter in the kitchen and scrubbing his hand over his eyes. “As long as you’re alright,” He grumbles. “I’m sorry,” You repeat softly. “It’s alright. You can't tell me what you're doing, can you?” “Not quite yet, I'm still working on getting that answer myself. How are you doing?” “Fine.” “Just fine?” “Mhm.” A pause, then: “The dogs miss you.” You can’t help but smile. “I miss them, too.” “I’ll let them know.” “And I miss you, old dog,” You murmur. “...I miss you, too, pup.” You grin, then, bashfully ducking your head to hide as if he was right in front of you. “I’ve some news,” He adds. “Oh?” “I’m being sent out.” Your stomach plummets, and you swallow thickly. “...Oh.” “Moneypenny knows, she and her boyfriend will take the dogs in shifts.” “Good. I’ll have to remember to get them a nice bottle of wine. When are you leaving?” “In a couple of hours.” “...Sorry I won’t see you before you go,” You murmur. “It’s alright, pup.” “But I’ll see you when we’re back.” “Of course.” “Mind your six, try not to get your head blown off.” “Yes, ma’am.” “I love you.” “...I love you, too, pup,” Bond murmurs. You smile, lowering the phone from your ear and peering down at it. You run your thumb over the screen before you straighten up. “You can come out,” You call out, eyeing the slight shadow from the hall. Breanna pokes her head around the corner just a second later. “Pretty serious, huh?” She asks. You shrug, nodding and tucking your phone away. “Let’s get back at it,” You urge, steering her toward the living room.

--

This is just meant to be recon. You have a pin in your jacket that contains both a camera and microphone. You can only hope that the mic doesn’t pick up the way that your heart is pounding. Being back on the field—not on the field as you were previously—but on the field in some capacity—

Well, you’re a little more nervous than you expected to be. It’s been a while, and while your instincts haven’t disappeared, you’re certainly grappling with a feeling akin to first-day jitters. You drop back from the rest of the tour as you’re led through the capital building. You eye the few cameras that are around, and can only hope that Bre’s been able to patch through the system, showing the guards a clear hallway. You hadn’t been able to get earpieces; Bre didn’t have access to any, and you didn’t have time to source them. As you skulk down the hall, stepping over the rope to a restricted area, you flip your visitor’s badge over to the official’s badge that Bre stole on her last visit to the building—the one that got her banned.

Two rights, one left, and then another right. You repeat Breanna’s directions in your mind as you stride surely down the hall. You’re about the make that second right when someone catches hold of your wrist, tugging you into a file room. You don’t get a good look at them as you duck beneath their arm, twisting out of their wrist and raising your leg to kick them. Their hands catch hold of your ankle, and you wobble, pulling your foot back and losing your low heel in the process. You raise your knee, feinging another kick, and raise your hand to strike them. They catch hold of your wrist, tugging you into their chest. You look at them with a stunned huff, and your heart stops. “You’re out of practice, pup.” Before you can ask—before you can snap, before you laugh—James is pulling you more tightly into his chest and silencing you with a kiss. You want to be mad about how easily you give into it, too. It’s not as if you haven’t gone long periods without seeing him, and this hasn’t even been all that long, but you do miss him when he’s not around. You miss being able to touch him, to kiss him—and, truthfully, the fact that you hadn't gotten back before he was sent out again had been weighing on you. “What are you doing here?” You mumble as he leans away to get a better look at your face. “I suspect the same as you.” “I’m here on recon.” “...I’m here for something a little more forceful than recon.” “You could’ve told me that you were on your way.” You watch him raise his hand to his ear as he murmurs, “Q, fill her in, would you?” And then Bond is tugging his earpiece out and raising it, carefully tucking it into yours. You take hold of it to correct the position as Q’s voice crackles through. “It was something of a surprise to see you over the feed,” Q’s voice is tinged with amusement. “Can you see us now?” You ask, eyeing the camera in the corner of the room, even as Bond dips his head, sucking kisses to what of your neck is above your collar. “...Unfortunately. But this feed has been hijacked from the main security system.” “Good—Bond,” You scoff, fighting the urge to laugh as you try to push his head away from you. Bond just grunts, curling his arms more tightly around you. “Just—Just brief me, Q, please,” You hurry to add. “Why don’t you tell me what you know already and I’ll fill you in.” You give him information piece by piece, careful to keep your voice steady as Bond continues his methodical assault on your neck. You hope that Q is at least shading his eyes. “Your intel is excellent,” Q says once you've finished, “And I’d love to know the source as a later date—As it is, 007 needs to apprehend the majority leader. He’s expected to be heavily guarded and armed himself.” “Is he being taken to headquarters?” “That is the plan.” “Alright,” You lean back from Bond, tipping his head up to meet his eyes, “Then I ought to be on my way.” “I wouldn’t advise that,” Q hurries to say before you can pull out the earpiece, “I can only open so many doors. Bond needs your access—” “I’ll give him my badge—” “And a second set of eyes in this veritable labyrinth.” You hesitate before you nod. “Alright,” You agree, and fall silent as Q gives you the lowdown on the plan. “Are you armed?” He asks. “No. 007 will just have to share,” You tease, reaching up and squeezing Bond’s cheeks. You pass him the earpiece back, waiting patiently as Q fills him in. As you do, you have to stop yourself from leaving in and giving Bond’s neck the same treatment. Bond lowers his hand from his ear, nudging you back. You take a step away pulling your fallen shoe back on as you watch him reach into the back of his pants and pull out a gun. He checks the clip before passing it over. “Does this count as my anniversary present?” You tease. “That’s not until next week,” Bond grins before he reaches down, tugging another gun out of his ankle holster. You watch him give it the same treatment before he takes off the safety.

“Ready?” He asks. “Mhm.” --

Stalking down the halls with a gun in hand is twice as nerve wracking as a simple recon. You turn as you hear the floor creak, spotting a guard raising their gun. You fire, taking them down. You turn forward again, glancing at Bond as he glances at you. “Thank you,” He murmurs. “For?” “Minding my six.” You grin, nodding him further down the hall. --

Your head is thudding dully. You take in a deep breath as you finish bounding the majority leaders’ hands, ignoring his attempts to bribe you into freeing him. You straighten up, peering out over the rooftops. “Are you busy?” Bond calls back to you. You turn to face him, striding over toward the roof’s edge and looking at the man dangling off of the edge. He’s swinging, glancing at the alley below. One of his hands comes up, and he cries out as he desperately tries to grip the ledge with broken fingers. “Helicopter will be here in two minutes. Would you like to do the honors?” Bond asks, looking at you. “Mm...” You consider the man; you think about the rage in his eyed as he clubbed you across the face with the butt of his gun. “Thanks, but you can have him,” You smile. “You sure?” “Yeah, go on.” Bond grunts before he raises his gun, firing and nailing the man between the eyes. You watch, stunned, as he drops from the roof. “I thought you were going to kick him in the face or something,” You laugh, staring up at Bond. “Then you should’ve done it,” Bond shrugs before he turns, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you back to the majority leader. “Let’s go.” “I have to go see Bre,” You warn, “Before I come home.” Bond frowns a little, and you add, “I need to explain what’s gone on. She’ll be happy to learn that she was right.” “Okay,” Bond sighs, gripping the man by the shoulder and hauling him up. You lift your head as MI6’s helicopter descends to the roof. “I’ll see you at home,” You pat Bond's arm, way of showing affection in front of others. It's no secret that the two of you are together these days, but should M ask any questions—questions that he'll surely have regarding your involvement with the operation—you'd rather the others had little to say . “Hang on—” Bond looks away, adding, “Take him,” As the agents advance toward you. The man grunts as he’s shoved toward the helicopter. James turns back to you, looking over your face, and the bruise that's blooming on your cheek,

“Get your head looked at,” He urges, cupping your chin, “If you’ve got a concussion, I don’t want it to go unchecked.” “I will.” “And let me know when you’re heading home.” “I will.” “Promise?” “Yes.”

Bond glances behind himself before he ducks his head in, kissing you warmly. “Get home safe,” You murmur. “Yes ma’am,” Bond smiles, nudging his nose against yours. You give his hand a squeeze, watching him head for the helicopter.

--

“Do you need me to grab anything?” “No, pup. Just come home.” “I’m like…Ten minutes away,” You report. “Good,” Bond sighs, “It’s about time.” “I had to stick around,” You have to fight the urge to whine at him, “Q and Breanna needed to connect securely, and the local government wanted to know how we knew what we knew. .” “Mm, I remember,” Bond mutters. “Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” “It makes the heart grow impatient." “Well then, I’ll see you in a bit.” Bond grunts, and you grin before hanging up. As the car turns down your street, you sit up straighter, reaching out and grabbing your purse and coat from their place on the seat beside you. You thank the driver as he takes your suitcase out of the trunk, and you find yourself glancing up at the windows and smiling. You take your time heading inside, checking your mail on the way up.

As you reach your flat, before you can put your key into the lock, the door opens. You grin at the sight of James. There’s something about him, even now, that makes your stomach flood giddily. “Hi,” You greet as you step inside. “Took you long enough.” You snort, rolling your eyes. "It's nice to see you too," You tease, hanging your coat on the hook before you turn to James, looping your arms around his middle. James groans contentedly, burying his face in your shoulder and sliding his hands over your back. “...You know, you scared the shit out of me,” You mutter. “I know. I could see it.” “You could’ve warned me.” “The line wasn’t secure—and you didn’t tell me what you’d be doing." “Once I knew what it was, I couldn’t.” “Why not?” “I was…I was worried that you’d pull yourself in. I didn’t want that—Not without MI6 involved.” Bond sighs softly, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I understand,” He mutters, “Even if I don’t like it…Though it was nice to be on the field with you again.” “Oh? Even though I’m out of practice?” “We could always get you in practice again.” “I don’t think so, old dog,” You chuckle as you tip your chin up, nuzzling his neck gently before pressing a tender kiss to his jaw. You pull away after a moment, your brow furrowing at how quiet the apartment is. “Where are the babies?” You ask, looking around. “The dogs are at Moneypenny’s.” “Why? Is something wrong?” “No,” James shakes his head, “We’ll pick them up in the morning. But I wanted us to have some quiet.” He steps back to let you get a view of your little eat-in kitchen. Your eyes widen slightly as you spot the set table, lit candles, and a bottle of wine. Your brow furrows as you glance between it and James. “What—What did you—” “I told you, our anniversary was this week.” You grin, raising your hand and cupping his cheek, drawing him in for a kiss. “You’re such a fucking romantic,” You accuse. “If you tell anyone, I’ll just deny it.” “Oh, I don’t have to tell anyone. You had Moneypenny take the dogs so that we could have a night alone. She’ll tell everyone that you’re a romantic, and everyone will believe her.” James grunts, resting his hand on your lower back and steering you toward the table. “She won't say a thing if she knows what’s good for her.” --

When you first fucked James—when you first realized that you were in love with James—a little hopeful part of you imagined something like this. It imagined quiet nights, relaxed dinners, teasing words and grins. It imagined truly knowing what it was like to be wrapped up in him—in his touch, his voice, his kiss—without the threat of the next mission hanging over both of you. And while there often is the threat of a mission—while your lives are not as quiet and idyllic as you once hoped they would be—they are a great deal more comfortable than you once thought possible. You know James like the back of your hand. You know his likes and dislikes; you know how he takes his coffee; you know the code to his safety deposit box; you know his preferred arrangements—should, god forbid, a mission take a nasty turn, and things need to be arranged. And you know, by the way he watches you over the rim of his wine glass, that he plans on ruining you tonight. -- "I should've blindfolded you when you came in," James murmurs. You giggle, tipping your head back and trying to see out of the bottom of the blindfold, but James has done too good a job of fixing it over your eyes. You can't see a thing; not even with your eyes open, as the satin blindfold is too dark to even glimpse light through. "How would that have gone?" You urge. "I could've managed it. Met you down by the door...Blindfolded you there." "The entire building would be convinced that we're fucking in the elevator." "We can do that next." "Bond." You raise a hand, using his voice and the heat of his body to guide where he must be, and slapping him on his shoulder. He laughs, brushing his lips along the underside of your chin. "The night's still young," He teases. You can feel the way his lips pull up into a smile. You smile in turn, raising your hands and sliding them over his arms. You pout, feeling fabric under your fingers instead of skin. "You need to take your shirt off," You grumble. "Oh, do I?" "Immediately." "Be careful, pup. If you keep issuing commands, I'll have to tie you to the headboard." "You do always say that you need a better use for your—" Your breath hiccups at the warning, "Your tie collection. And didn't you just say that the night is still young?" James hums thoughtfully. You feel its tantalizing vibration as his lips drift down over your collarbone and sternum. You shiver, fighting to keep still as you feel his breath ghost over the underside of your breast. He sucks a kiss along the bottom before he leans up, tongue circling your nipple. You squirm, arching up against him. But James won't be enticed. He just shifts from one nipple to the other, giving it a short, slick lap before drawing away. You feel him blow cooly over the wet skin, and you whimper, squeezing your thighs together. "Open up for me," James urges, and before he can touch you or clarify, you snap, "Arms, legs, mouth? What do you want?" James tuts softly, drawing away. You can feel the bed dipping beside you as he changes position; the whisper of fabric hitting the floor hardly makes it to your ears. "This could've been far more gentle, pup," He sighs, stroking your cheek. You turn your head toward him, teasing the tip of your tongue across his thumb as he brushes it along your lower lip. "Well what did you want me to o—" In a flash, as you ask, Bond grips your cheeks, sinking them and forcing your mouth to hold that O. You feel the tip of his cock tease between your lips before stilling. Maybe he thinks that if he pushes in too fast, you'll bite him. Instead, you slip your tongue along the glans, as gently you had with his thumb. James groans, pushing more of his length between your lips. You let your eyes close behind the blindfold, leaning up and taking in more of his cock. James' hips pulse shallowly as your head bobs, slicking his shaft and drawing your tongue along the veined underside. "I was going to tell you to open your legs—" He says, and you can hear strain in your voice. It makes you grin, and you pull your head back, sucking his head.

"I was—Fuck," He groans; you can imagine him kneeling beside your head, his face screwed up in concentration, in lustful agony, "I was going to be sweet with you." You pull your head back, lips leaving him with an obscene pop! "Well who the fuck told you I wanted that?" You sass, but you're grinning. You can only imagine Bond looking down at you this way—your hair a mess, your mouth shining with spit and precum. You feel him place his hand on the back of your neck, drawing you back to his cock and pushing in more forcefully this time, hard enough to make you gag. "You're right," James sighs as your struggle to take him, "I don't know what I was thinking." He could pull back at any moment, and you find yourself wrapping an arm around him, sinking your nails into his ass to keep him close. "Shit," James curses, hips bounding again before he pulls out of your mouth, watching you cough and gasp . You feel the bed shift, lifting beside you as he climbs off of it. You try to reach for him again, but he's walking away. You're this close to pulling off the blindfold, to finding out what he's doing, but you feel something silky-soft wrap around one of your wrists. "James—" You manage, but Bond presses his hand over your mouth. He lowers his head, lips brushing your ear. "I did warn you," He murmurs before he draws back. Your arm is pulled up over your head; you can hear the sliding of fabric as he loops it around the headboard, tying what you can only assume is an incredibly efficient knot with one of his lovely ties. A shiver runs down your spine, and you squirm in place, trying to stave off a shiver. "Open your fucking legs, pup," He snarls as your other arm raises, your wrist given the same sliky-soft treatment. "If you want me to," You warn breathily, "You'll have to work faster—faster than that." You swear you can hear James chuckle, but you're certain he'll never admit to it. It's only another moment before his large, warm hands slide up your calves, prying your legs open. You can imagine what he sees—your pussy, flushed and slick. You jump just a little as you feel his fingers smooth over your lips, pulling them wide. With the way he stills, you think he may be looking at you for reassurance, and you nod your head just a touch, hoping to spur him on. It seems to do the trick, and not a moment later, you feel the obscene, hot sliding of his spit trickling between your lips. You gasp, a stunned moan falling from between your lips as James rubs it in, teasing it lower and pressing a finger into you. "Oh—my god," You mumble, struggling against your restraints. You want nothing more than to free your wrists—nothing more than to pull off your blindfold and watch James grin filthily as he breaks you down. But he just tuts again, like a an impatient schoolmarm with a naughty student. "I'd hold still if I were you, pup," Bond speaks into your thigh before laying a stinging bite there, "The longer you spend struggling, the longer the night will be for you."

You're not sure if that's a warning or encouragement, but you tug at your restraints all the same.

--

You roll your wrists a little and shift contentedly on your stomach, your arms throbbing slightly from their previously-held position over your head. You feel little airy, bubbly and happy, despite your soreness. “You’re lucky I stopped eating when I did,” You mumble into your arms, “I was about to be too full to fuck. I was this close to coming back here and just fucking napping.” James chuckles, brushing his lips against your lower back. He smooths his hands up your side, so gently and carefully that he doesn’t tickle you. You glance back at him, smiling. “So which anniversary are we celebrating?” You yawn, “I meant to ask, but I was too busy inhaling the steak you made.” “The hallway.” “Mm,” You roll onto your side, dislodging Bond from where he’s draped across your back, “Good hallway. Those ten seconds lasted about ten minutes.” “I didn’t want them to end.” “I did.” “Really?” He asks, tipping his head to the side. You nod, reaching down and combing your fingers through his hair. “I was still upset with you—for leaving, for…Popping up the way you did on Naxos, and lingering like a bad smell.” James smiles, tipping his head up and brushing a kiss to your wrist. “I thought I smelled quite good.” You snort, reaching down and flicking his forehead. “You were irritating. I wanted to kill you.” “Well, for Bernard’s sake, I’m glad that you didn’t.” “Oh, Bernard’s sake.” “Mhm. And Holly’s.” “Not mine?” “...I suppose yours, at moments.” James is trying to tease, but you see a flicker of truth there. You sit up just a bit, cupping his chin. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you, either.” Maybe it would seem silly to say to anyone else, but James isn’t anyone else. He never has been. James pushes himself up, kissing you softly. He rests his hand on your throat, using gentle pressure to steer you back onto the bed. You moan softly, sinking your teeth into his lower lip and tipping your head back, baring your throat further beneath his hand. James reaches down and palms your thigh, urging them wide to slot between. James leans away, chuckling as his lip slips from between your teeth. His hand slides to the apex of your thighs, cupping your aching cunt carefully, and grinning as you squirm down against his hand. He swipes his tongue across your lip before cuddling closer. You think that you could burst like this—that every bit of you could fly apart, and everything would still be alright. Even as James murmurs tenderly into your kiss— “Happy anniversary, pup.” Tag list: @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ ; @missredherring​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​​ ;  @paintballkid711​​ ; @massivecolorspygiant​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​; @recklessworry​​ ; @amneris21​​ ; @ew-erin​​ ; @youngkenobilove​​ ; @carbonated-beverage​​ ; @jedi-mando​​ ; @lorecraft​​ ; @moonlightburned​​ ; @getinthepoolkeanu​​ ; @dessinemoiunehistoire​​ ; @nolanell​​  ; @20th-centu-fairy-girl​​ ; @rentskenobi​​ ; @aliceblxck​​ ; @guccietennishoes​​ ; @diaryofalanguagesstudent​​ ; @brandyllyn​​ ; @breezythesimp​​ ; @vintageroses10​​​ ; @bb-skyrunner ; @persianqveen (tried to tag-didn’t work) ; @blueeyeshollowheart (tried to tag-didn’t work)

[scekrex]

Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

-

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

[btsqualityy]

Magnolias in Springtime

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, smut, and just a smidge of angst 

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriages, brief mention of polygamy (nothing comes of it, promise lol), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, knotting 

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet​! I really hope you guys enjoy it! P.S: There will also be a part two to this fic so stayed tuned for that!

Prompt: While their parents discuss behind closed doors the terms of their arranged marriage to each other, they meet in the blooming garden to go over their own conditions.

Your pack was your entire life.

Growing up as what some of the elders in your pack referred to as the spoiled only child of the Pack Alpha and the Pack Omega, you were doted on by everyone. As a child, you marveled at the Alphas when they brought back the animals that they had haunted for the pack’s dinner and now as an adult, you were having Alphas dedicate those kills to you as a sign of intention to marriage. 

As a child, you tried to take notes on how the Betas seemed to be able to de-escalate any and all types of conflict, always seeming to have a solution that would placate everyone. Now that you were an adult, you found yourself going to those same Betas whenever you had conflicts with your parents or your best friends, because you knew that they would understand you. 

As a child, you thought that it was the coolest thing when you watched the Omegas essentially hold the pack together. They were the ones who gave birth, they were the ones who mostly took on child rearing and cooking (even though the Alphas and Betas in your pack always helped out as well), and they were always there when you happened to skin your knee as a child or just needed comfort. Once you became an adult and presented, you found yourself gravitating more towards the Omegas as you were also one now, and they took you under their wings as you learned just what it really meant to be an Omega. 

So in short, you loved your pack and you were extremely grateful for everything that they had taught you. Oddly enough, that gratefulness is exactly how you ended up in this situation. 

“We really appreciate the fact that you’re doing this for us Y/N,” your Alpha father, Byung-hoon told you as he, you, and your mother Deiji waited on the edge of the Kim Pack’s territory. 

“I told you that it’s fine Daddy,” you muttered, bouncing yourself up and down on the tips of your toes.

“Taking on this huge responsibility for our pack isn’t fine, but we’re grateful that you’re willing to do it,” Deiji said. Instead of answering her though, you decided to change the subject.

“Their territory really is beautiful,” you pointed out as you looked around, seeing multiple bushes of plum blossoms and azaleas. “At least I’ll have something pretty to look forward to once I move here.”

“That you will,” a deep voice added and when you turned around, you saw a large, muscular man walking towards you and following behind him was an almost equally tall woman who was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. 

“Ah, hello Pack Alpha Ho-jin,” your father bowed and you and your mother followed his lead, holding the bow for a few seconds before straightening up again. 

“Hello Pack Alpha Byung-hoon,” Ho-jin replied as he and the woman bowed as well. “This is my wife, Pack Omega Eun Kyung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Eun Kyung smiled. 

“This is my wife, Pack Omega Deiji and this is our daughter, Y/N,” Byung-hoon introduced.

“Hello,” Deiji smiled.

“Hello,” you echoed, even though your smile was a bit more forced than your mother’s.

“Oh, you are absolutely gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gushed as she stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your hands. “Our son is a lucky man.”

“I’m sure that I am lucky as well, Pack Omega,” you replied.

“Please, call me Eun Kyung,” she corrected you. “I am going to be your mother-in-law soon.”

“Speaking of, where is Namjoon?” Your father wondered.

“He went off hunting with some of the other Alphas and Betas in our pack,” Ho-jin explained. “We plan on having a very big feast in order to celebrate their impending nuptials and he decided to go and try to find some extra meat.”

“Yeah, or to avoid meeting the wife that he doesn’t want,” you thought to yourself.

“He sounds like he’ll be an amazing provider and Alpha,” your mother smiled.

“Well, why don’t we all go into my office so that we can go over the terms and conditions of their marriage?” Ho-jin suggested before turning to look at you. “Y/N-ah, feel free to look around our territory and get a feel of the place. This will be your home soon, after all.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thank you.” After receiving a kiss on your head from your father and a pat on the hand from your mother, you watched silently as the four of them walk away together. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a large rush of breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding. Even though you weren’t completely excited about this arrangement, your inner Omega wanted the parents of your future husband to like you and after meeting them, you were happy that you could seemingly not have that to worry about. 

Deciding to take your future father-in-law’s advice, you walked away from the front of their territory and ventured around. You were amazed at how vast their territory seemed to be in comparison to your pack’s, large buildings and houses searching as far as your eyes could see. As you walked, you took notice of what seemed to be a schoolhouse, a building that seemed to be a sort of meeting hall, and even a building that looked like a store front with mannequins in the window.

The thing that caught your attention though, was a large archway that was covered in gorgeous magnolia flowers. When you stepped over to it, you gasped at what laid behind it: A large wall full of nothing but magnolias stood a few feet beyond the arch, a small bench placed in front of it. 

“Gorgeous,” you whispered in awe as you stepped over to the wall, reaching out and gently touching the flowers. 

“Who are you?” A deep voice called out and you jumped up a little, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you turned around to find the source of the voice. Standing right underneath the archway, was a tall, tan skinned man whose presence seemed to command attention. 

“I-I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied, still feeling a little hesitant and the man’s eyes widened. 

“You’re Y/N?” He wondered and you nodded your head. “Well, you’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You questioned. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon,” he said, smiling at the soft gasp that escaped you. “Your future husband.”

“Oh,” was all you could utter in response because holy shit, your future husband was hot.

“Where are your parents?” Namjoon asked as he stepped closer to you. “I assume that you didn’t come here alone.”

“Um, they’re talking to your parents about the ‘terms and conditions’ of our marriage,” you told him and he scoffed out a laugh.

“Of course they are,” he chuckled as he took a seat on the small bench. “Well, I think that while they’re doing that, you and I should probably go over our own terms and conditions.”

“Our own?” You echoed as you sat down on the bench as well.

“Seeing as though we’re both fundamentally being forced into this, I figure that there’s things that you don’t want and that you do want,” he said. 

“That’s..true, I guess,” you nodded. “You go first.”

“Well, seeing as though you weren’t raised in this pack, I’d like for you to learn the ways of the pack and just be a proper wife,” he began.

“I’ve been learning about your pack since the discussions of a possible arrangement started,” you told him. “I have to wonder though, what exactly is your definition of a ‘proper’ wife.”

“Basically, just keeping house, cooking and cleaning,” he elaborated. “As my father plans to step down once we’re married, I’ll be too busy running the pack.”

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I wasn’t raised to be a docile Omega and I don’t plan on becoming one once we’re married,” you huffed.

“Why not? I mean, surely you don’t expect to run the pack with me?” He laughed.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect,” you smiled. 

“How can you expect to lead this pack when they don’t know you?” He asked.

“Since I’m going to be here for the rest of my life, then they’ll have every opportunity to get to know me,” you shrugged. 

“We’ll talk more about that one later,” Namjoon sighed. “Anything that you wanted specifically?”

“I know that your pack is going to be providing aid to mines once we’re married and as much as I plan on being involved in this pack, I also hope that you don't expect me to never see my pack again,” you said. 

“That’s the custom when you marry into another pack though,” Namjoon pointed out. “Plus, no offense or anything, but your pack is broke in terms of both money and resources and I don’t imagine there to be much to even go back to.”

“I am my parent’s only child and my pack is very close knit so I’d love to still be able to see them and for them to come see me,” you continued. “At least three or four times a year.”

“Alright, I guess that’s reasonable,” he relented. “Especially under these circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“Oh, another thing,” he said suddenly. “I know that this marriage isn’t exactly something that either of us want but you cannot have any...uh, lovers on the side.”

“I’d never do something like that,” you frowned. “But I hope you know that the same goes for you.”

“That’s fine,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s not my style anyways.”

“In addition to that, I read your pack’s history and the whole taking more than one Omega as a wife thing isn’t going to fly with me,” you stated firmly.

“It’s tradition though,” he shot back. “Every leader of this pack throughout its’ history has had more than one spouse.”

“Your father doesn’t,” you pointed out. 

“Because he didn’t want one.”

“And you do?” You demanded to know and Namjoon just chuckled.

“You really meant that whole not a docile Omega thing, huh?” He wondered and you nodded while smirking. 

“You’re going to be Pack Alpha,” you said. “You have the authority to change tradition.”

“Fine, no additional Omegas,” he agreed. “I hope that means you’re going to be willing to have lots of pups then, since that’s what the whole multiple Omegas rule was for.”

“How many?” 

“At least 5,” he replied and you just laughed.

“5 is a pretty big number coming from a man who’s not going to be pushing them out,” you giggled. “Two, at most.”

“Three?” Namjoon bargained and after thinking for a few seconds, you nodded your head. 

“Deal,” you answered. “Anything else?”

“Just one more,” he added. “No roses at our wedding.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re overrated and cliché,” he shrugged. 

“What about magnolias?” You asked. “Those are my favorites.”

“I like those,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then,” you announced. “No roses.”

“You know, this marriage thing is easier than I thought,” Namjoon said thoughtfully, making you giggle at him. “Do you have anything else you wanted to bring up?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

“Shake on it?” He extended his hand out to you and you let him grab onto yours, shaking each other’s hands. 

“Namjoon?” A deep voice called out and Namjoon sighed heavily. 

“That’s my dad,” Namjoon told you. “Should we head out there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, standing up and waiting for Namjoon to do the same before the two of you walked back towards the front of their territory. As you did so, you couldn’t help but to Namjoon hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

“Ah, I see that the two of you met and are getting along!” Ho-jin announced happily.

“I’d say that we are,” Namjoon nodded as he looked down at you, and you nodded as well. 

“Well, why don’t we all move into our house?” Eun Kyung suggested. “We can have dinner and get to each other more.” After receiving nods all around, the group of you began to move towards the large cluster of houses that were a few yards away from where you were currently standing. As you let Namjoon lead you, you thought that maybe all of this actually wouldn’t be so bad. 

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

A few days later, your time visiting Namjoon’s pack was winding down. After the first day, your father had happily told you that the negotiations between him and Namjoon’s father went off without a hitch and that the wedding could move forward immediately so the last few days of your visit had been spent planning your wedding.

“So maybe you and Namjoon can have your ceremony closer to the evening?” Eun Kyung suggested. “So that way we can move right into the reception afterwards.” You, her and your mom were currently in the dining room of Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house, going over some wedding details.

“That’s a good idea,” Deiji concurred. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Having the ceremony around 5pm sounds good.”

“Great,” Eun Kyung smiled as she wrote some things down onto the notepad that was on the table in front of her. “A later ceremony will hopefully ease some of the anxiety you’ll have that day.”

“Anxiety?” You asked.

“About your wedding night,” Eun Kyung clarified and your eyes widened. “When Ho-jin and I got married, we had our ceremony in the early afternoon and I was so nervous waiting for the reception to come because I knew what was going to happen afterwards and I had never been to bed with anyone before.”

“Oh,” you murmured. Of course, you knew that it was expected that you’d have sex with Namjoon on your wedding night and if it were up to your parents and Namjoon’s parents, get pregnant immediately but you had done your best not to actually think about it.

“Anyways, I think maybe roses for the flowers,” Deiji changed the subject and you gave her a small smile in thanks. 

“Oh, that would be gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gasped. “Namjoon’s grandmother actually has a garden full of red roses and I’m sure that she won’t mind us using some.”

“Actually, no roses,” you spoke up and both older women looked at you.

“I thought you liked roses, Y/N-ah,” Deiji said.

“I do, but Namjoon doesn’t,” you explained. “We agreed on magnolias instead.”

“You both agreed?” Deiji repeated and you nodded your head, making her smile. “That’s great.”

“You know, it’s so nice to see you actually trying to make the best of this whole thing Y/N,” Eun Kyung said. “I know it’s not ideal and you could be fighting this tooth and nail but the fact that you’re not says a lot about your character.”

“Thank you,” you smiled lightly. 

“Alright, magnolias it is,” Eun Kyung muttered as she wrote that down onto her notepad as well. Before the conversation could continue any further though, there was a sudden knock and when you looked up, you saw Namjoon standing in the door way to the dining room. 

“Hey, you all back from hunting so soon?” Eun Kyung wondered, referring to how Ho-jin, Namjoon, and Byung-hoon had decided to go off and hunt right after lunch. 

“Animals weren’t really out,” Namjoon shrugged. “Dad wanted to show Pack Alpha Byung-hoon our warehouse and I decided to come back here to spend time with Y/N.”

“With me?” You echoed in awe and Namjoon nodded.

“I wanted to show you around a little more, if you’re willing,” he offered. Before answering, you looked over at your mother who immediately waved her hands at you.

“Go, go,” she encouraged you. “We’re here for another two days so we can pick this up again later. Right, Eun Kyung?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, turning to look at Namjoon after. “Show her the river.”

“I got it Mom,” Namjoon chuckled. “Y/N?”

“Sure,” you replied before standing up, walking over to Namjoon and grabbing his outstretched hand. 

“We’ll be back by dinner,” he called out to your mothers before turning around and leading you through the living room and out of the house. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” you said as the two of you walked down the front steps and began to walk away from the cluster of houses. “All that wedding planning was starting to get to my head.”

“I figured, which is why I got out of there right after lunch,” Namjoon laughed. “But I also genuinely wanted to spend some time with you too. It feels like I haven’t had a moment alone with you since the first day you got here.”

“I think our families are making sure of that,” you pointed out. “I think they’re afraid that we may realize that we hate each other if they leave us alone together for too long.”

“I think that’s actually a great assumption,” he chuckled. “They don’t have to worry about that though, at least not on my end.”

“Mines either,” you murmured shyly. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, even though my mom suggested that I take you to the river, I think that there’ll be plenty of time for you to see that later,” he told you. “I actually want to show you something that I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” you nodded as the two of you continued to walk and you noticed that he was still holding onto your hand. On their territory, there were a few different clusters of houses and Namjoon was leading you over to a different one, stopping in front of what seemed to be the largest house. 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asked and you took a second to look over the outside, liking how it was painted a light brown color, had a large porch that already had a swing attached to the ceiling of it, and a large set of stairs. 

“I think it’s beautiful,” you smiled. “You built this?”

“Yeah, for us,” he revealed and you looked over at him in shock. “What? I hope you didn’t think we’d be living with my parents once the wedding is over.”

“Namjoon, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured in awe.

“Want to take a look inside?” Namjoon wondered, reaching down and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. You nodded your head rapidly and he chuckled before leading you up the stairs and unlocking the front door. Walking inside, you let out another soft gasp as you looked around. 

As soon as you walked into the front door, there was a little open space which could be used to place your shoes and jackets and then a staircase that led upstairs to the second level of the house. On your left hand side, there was an archway that lead into the dining room and kitchen and then on your right hand side, there was another archway that lead into the living room and another room that Namjoon said he planned on converting into a study. Once you went upstairs, you saw that there were a total of five bedrooms and the master bedroom was the largest and complete with an en suite as well. 

“I love it,” you gushed as you turned to look at Namjoon, who was leaning up against one of the walls in what would soon be your shared bedroom. 

“I thought I’d leave the decorating up to you,” he said. “That way you’ll have control over something here.”

“Good, because I already have ideas,” you grinned, deciding to throw caution to the wind and walking over to him, not waiting for him to ask what you were doing before throwing your arms around him. He hesitated for a second before hugging you back as well, and the two of you stood there for a few seconds with your arms around each other. 

“I’m happy that you like it,” he whispered and you craned your neck in order to look up at him. 

“I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Anything for my future wife,” he smiled and it was when he said that that you realized how close the two of you still were. You dropped your arms from around him and stepped back, forcing him to let go of you as well. Feeling your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, you turned your back towards him and walked over towards the window to look outside.

“You know Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Namjoon began. “Why did you agree to all of this?”

“What, marrying you?” You asked for clarification and Namjoon nodded.

“I mean, I know the basic reason why but I feel like there’s more to it than that,” he said. “A lot of packs run out of money and resources at some point but their leaders usually figure something out instead of marrying off their children in return for more resources.”

“True,” you sighed before turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Long story short, I don’t want my pack to die out just because of my father’s mismanagement. I love every member of my pack and they have all been so vital to how I grew up and how I’ve become the person that I am. If me marrying into another pack will guarantee that those people can continue to live comfortably, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s incredibly selfless,” Namjoon replied as he walked over to stand next to you. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to me, I’m just repaying the people who gave me so much.”

“That’s amazing Y/N,” he muttered. 

“What about you?” You reversed the question. “Why did you agree to this?”

“Well, my reasoning was a lot more selfish than yours,” he chuckled. “It’s always been my dream to lead the pack and when my father came to me a few months ago saying that he was getting ready to want to step down, I was super excited. However, it concerned him that I’m 26 and not mated to anyone yet so he made it a stipulation that I meet someone and get mated before he allows me to take over for him. Since I planned on getting married at some point in my life, that stipulation really didn’t matter to me so I agreed.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why you weren’t too keen on me wanting to run the pack with you,” you said.

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “Although, after hearing why you agreed to all of this, I have to admit that I’m reconsidering that.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully. 

“Of course, you’ll still have to get to know the pack and our ways,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have you by my side.”

“Great!” You exclaimed happily and Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh from how excited you clearly were. 

“Do you want to go look in the other bedrooms?” He suggested. “Maybe see what you might want to do with them?” 

“Mm, we don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm myself,” you giggled. “Why did you make so many bedrooms anyways?”

“Well, for our future children,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks immediately become hotter. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

“Is that ok?” Namjoon wondered. “I know it might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, especially since I did it before we had our conversation about what we both wanted the other day.”

“No, no, no, it’s....it’s fine,” you shrugged. 

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?”

“Namjoon!” You shouted in surprise.

“You’re nervous,” he surmised. 

“Can you blame me?” You scoffed. “I mean, it’s already embarrassing to have basically everyone know that I’m a virgin but knowing what’s expected of us on our wedding night....it’s nerve wrecking.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N,” he shrugged. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You asked him, only to see him shake his head. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve thought about filling you with my knot since the first day that I saw you,” Namjoon confessed. “So if you let me have sex with you on our wedding night, I’d consider myself to be a very lucky man.”

“Really?” You whispered.

“Of course, but I’m not going to push you,” he told you. “If you deicide that you don’t want to, then that’s completely fine. If you do though, just know that I’ll be more willing.”

“Good to know, I guess,” you muttered, more so to yourself but Namjoon still laughed at you. 

“Cute,” he smiled widely as he reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

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

A month later, your wedding day had finally come. After spending a week in Namjoon’s territory, you and your parents had traveled back to your pack’s territory where you prepared for the wedding alone. The only other time that you were able to see Namjoon had been when he and his parents decided to visit your territory in order to sign the treaty that would make the connection between your two packs official. 

Fast forward to now, you were standing in the guest bedroom of Namjoon’s parents’ house, getting ready with your mom and your two best friends. 

“I really wish you would’ve let me make you a more form fitting dress Y/N-ah,” Taehyung sighed as he pullzed up the zipper on the back of your dress. Your dress was pure white, with long billowing sleeves, a scooped neckline, and a loose, long skirt with a small train. 

“You know that I hate tight clothing,” you pointed out. “This feels more like me.”

“And you look beautiful,” Jimin spoke up, taking a second to stick his tongue out at Taehyung.

“That you do,” Deiji grinned widely as she placed a crown of magnolias on top of your head. “You look like a dream.”

“Thanks Mommy,” you giggled. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door. 

“Everyone decent in there?” Your father called out and Jimin walked over to the door and opened it up, making your father gasp when he saw you. 

“Oh Y/N-ah,” he murmured as he paced over to you, setting his hands on your cheeks. “My baby girl.”

“What do you think?” You asked him. 

“I think that Namjoon is a very lucky man to be marrying such a gorgeous woman,” Byung hoon replied, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You ready? There’s still time to back out and we can always figure something else out.”

“I’m not gonna do that Daddy,” you huffed with a smile, reaching out and taking the bouquet of magnolias that Taehyung was handing to you. “I’m gonna do this.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” your father murmured and you just leaned forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well. 

“What’s done is done,” you said. “So don’t stress about it.”

“Well, let’s go get you married,” Taehyung smiled as he reached up and pulled your veil down over your face.

“Let’s,” you whispered as you wrapped your hand around your father’s arm and let him lead you out of the bedroom. 

The ceremony was an unrushed affair once you met Namjoon underneath the little archway that had been placed near the large wall of magnolias where the two of you had first met. You found yourself not even paying much attention to what was happening during the ceremony and before you knew it, you were facing Namjoon as the preacher pronounced you man and wife.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d ever been kissed, but it still felt different all the same. Namjoon was so gentle as he reached out and grabbed the hem of your veil, lifting it up and over your head to reveal your face. He then placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling them as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. You found yourself kissing back on instinct, your hands reaching out and grabbing onto his suit jacket. 

The reception was definitely more fun than you imagined it to be. The food was amazing and so was the music, and you couldn’t help but to smile at how everyone in your new pack danced around happily as they celebrated your marriage. You found yourself having fun as well as you allowed Eun Kyung and Ho-jin to lead you around, introducing you to some members of the pack as well as spending time with your own family and friends as well.

Now that the night was over though, you were quietly walking back to your new house with Namjoon, which had been decorated to your liking. 

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked and you looked over at him, nodding your head.

“I did,” you smiled. “Your pack sure knows how to throw a party.”

“It’s your pack now too,” he pointed out and you hummed in reply. Once your new house came into view, Namjoon helped you walk up the front steps before pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door. 

“Wait,” he said when you moved to step into the house and before you could ask what he was doing, he leant down and picked you up bridal style.

“Namjoon!” You shrieked as he carried you into the house and you reached out to shut the front door for him. He then carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom before setting you down on the ground.

“What was that?” You giggled as you looked up at him.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be deprived of a prime wedding experience,” he shrugged, making you smile. A somewhat awkward silence then settled over the two of you then and it wasn’t until then that you felt your nerves kick in. You had been successful in not thinking much about your wedding night for the past few weeks but now that the two of you were alone, it was all that you could think about. 

“You know,” Namjoon spoke up suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Namjoon, we talked about this,” you replied.

“We did and I meant what I said then,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything just because people might expect us to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Plus, it’s kind of insulting if you only have sex with me because you’re expected to,” he joked, making you giggle.

“You have a point,” you smiled. “What if I said that I wanted to though, because I want to?”

“Do you remember what else I said to you when we had that conversation?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immensely as you recalled his words. 

“Yes.”

“What did I say baby?” 

“You said that you, uh, wanted to....uh,” you stammered and Namjoon smiled, deciding to take pity on you.

“I said that I wanted to fill you with my knot,” he finished for you. “And I still mean that.”

“You’ll be gentle?” You checked.

“Absolutely,” he stated firmly. “And I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” You knew that this was a big step, losing your virginity. However, something about Namjoon made you feel so at ease and besides, he was your husband now.

“I want to,” you announced, causing him to grin widely.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested and you nodded your head. He reached up and placed his hands on your cheeks before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You immediately moved closer to him, placing your hands near his waist. He then took one of his hands off of your cheek and before you could ask what he was doing, he reached up and took the crown of magnolias off your head before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Someone seems eager,” you teased.

“You have no idea,” Namjoon chuckled deeply. He kissed you again, this time much deeper as he walked you backwards towards the bed. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees, you pulled away from his lips and looked up at him. 

“Help me take this off?” You whispered, taking a second to turn around so that your back was facing him. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver and when your dress dropped down to the floor in a pool around your feet, the feeling of his eyes on you made you get chills. 

“Did you wear this for me?” Namjoon asked before leaning forward and pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, referring to the white, lace bra and panty set that you had been wearing underneath your dress. 

“Maybe,” you breathed out, his lips on your skin making it hard for you to focus. 

“Gorgeous. Lay down for me?” He said and you nodded before bending down and crawling onto the bed. When you flipped over to lie on your back, Namjoon was working on taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he had underneath.

“You still ok?” He checked in as he climbed onto the bed as well and you smiled as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, leaning up and kissing him again. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouth falling open as Namjoon slipped his tongue inside. He then pulled away from your mouth, moving down to press kisses to your jaw before moving down to your neck. 

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispered against your skin and you just blushed as you looked up at the ceiling.

“About me?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Been thinking about your scent too.”

“What do I smell like to you?” You wondered, doing your best to keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you felt him start to move down again. 

“Like...pineapples and bananas,” he murmured as he grabbed the cups of your bra, pulling them down so that they sat right underneath your breasts. He then leaned down and sucked your right nipple into his mouth, making you arch your back up from the bed.

“Holy, huh,” you moaned and Namjoon chuckled at you, which automatically made you pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after popping your nipple out of his mouth. “You’re just so cute.” You couldn’t find the words to say anything else because Namjoon reached underneath you and you lifted your back up so that he could take your bra off completely, and he didn’t waste any time before taking your left nipple into his mouth. 

Once both of your nipples had stiffened to a peak, he moved downwards again, trailing his lips across your skin until he made it down to the line of your panties. 

“Lift up for me?” Namjoon asked and slowly, you lifted your hips and waited until he had grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down before lowering your body back onto the bed. Once he pulled them off of your legs and threw them off the bed, you watched as he sat his hands on your knees and looked down at you. 

“Still good?” He wondered.

“Seriously, stop asking,” you giggled. “I’m nervous as hell but I want to do this so I’m good.”

“I just, you know you can tell me to stop at anytime and I will, right?” 

“I know, and that’s why I want this,” you smiled. “Want you to give me a bite.”

“Fuck, ok,” he exhaled harshly. “I want to eat you out first though.”

“Ok,” you nodded and you allowed him to push your knees apart, exposing your folds to him. He laid down on the bed so that he was right in between your legs, and you let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue make contact with your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to make slow circles around your clit and even though he wasn’t placing a lot of pressure behind it, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Holy shit, that feels...good,” you huffed and you felt Namjoon hum against you as he closed his entire mouth around your clit. The feeling was almost euphoric, and you couldn’t believe that you had been missing out on this for the last few years since you presented as an Omega.

“I’m gonna give you a finger ok?” Namjoon spoke up after taking his mouth off of you and you nodded, wincing lightly when he began to push his pointer finger inside of you. He then began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you, which made you moan lightly. 

“Feels good?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Weird but good,” you told him. 

“Good,” he smirked. “You’re getting wet.”

“Don’t say that,” you groaned. 

“Why not? It’s a good thing,” he shrugged. “It’ll make it easier for you to take my knot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” he smiled before leaning down and taking your clit back into his mouth. As he fingered and licked you simultaneously, you found it a little harder to breathe because of the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” you hissed when he tried to ease his middle finger inside of you. 

“It’s ok baby, we just gotta get you stretched out a little bit,” he whispered and you just decided to be quiet and let him do it. Admittedly, you admired how much time he was taking making sure that you were properly ready and it made your heart soften because you had never had a man (other than your father) be so gentle with you. 

“Namjoon, I-I think I’m going to come,” you whimpered and Namjoon took his mouth off of your clit for a few seconds. 

“Go ahead baby,” he encouraged you before placing his mouth back on you. Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before your body seized up, your orgasm washing over you. Namjoon continued to stroke you through it and by the time that it passed, you were reaching down and pushing him away from you. 

“Holy shit, that felt good,” you giggled, making Namjoon laugh as well. 

“That’s good,” He replied as he sat up onto his knees. When your eyes trailed downwards, they widened a little at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

“Should I, um,” you stammered as you motioned towards his pants and he looked down, chuckling before looking back up at you. 

“You don’t have to and besides, seeing you come turned me on and I doubt I’d last,” he admitted.

“Oh, ok,” you smiled shyly. He then pulled off the dress shirt that he had on, letting it fall onto the floor before moving onto his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down. He pushed them, along with his underwear, down his legs and your jaw dropped a little from the sight of his cock.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely didn’t expect his cock to be so thick and long. You had to admit, actually seeing it made you even more nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon called out and you looked up at him. “It’ll be ok. I’m still going to go slow.”

“O-Ok,” you whispered as he climbed between your legs. He reached out with two fingers and gathered some of your slickness from your orgasm before using it to lubricate his cock. 

“Ready?” He questioned as he positioned his cock right in front of your entrance and once you nodded, he slowly began to push into you. The stinging pain hit you immediately and you yelped out loud, reaching up and clutching onto Namjoon’s forearms. “Y/N?”

“Hurts,” you muttered through grit teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t try to push any further, he waited until you gave him a small nod before pressing his hips forward again. You were almost ready to tell him to forget the entire thing as the stinging pain seemed to become worse the more he pushed into you. Before you knew it though, he had bottomed out and was looking down at you intensely.

“What?” You asked him.

“You just, you look so beautiful,” he complimented you.

“Are you just saying that because you’re inside of me right now?” You joked.

“I mean it,” he laughed. 

“Well, thank you,” you responded and he leaned down to kiss you again. He then slowly pulled his hips back before pushing back in, which caused you to let out a stuttered moan into his mouth. The pain was still thee but as he began to fuck you, it slowly went away and was replaced by what was probably the greatest pleasure that you had ever felt in your life up to that point. 

“So tight baby,” Namjoon grunted after he pulled away from the kiss. 

“F-feels so full,” you whimpered. 

“Good. I’m gonna fill you even more with my knot,” he said gruffly as he looked down at you. “You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he instructed you.

“I-I want your.....k-knot,” you stuttered and he literally groaned at your words. He began to fuck you a little faster, making you grip onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Been thinking about this,” he moaned. “Been thinking about how good you would feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Me t-too,” you confessed. 

“Fuck, you’ve been thinking about me baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Since you told me that you wanted to...fill me with your, uh, knot. Thought about you calling me baby too.”

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll call you that as often as I can,” he promised. He continued to fuck you, and you realized that you were feeling the same buildup of pressure that you did when he was fingering you. 

“I-I’m gonna come Namjoon,” you announced breathily and he sighed.

“Thank god,” he huffed as he began to thrust into you both faster and harder, and your grip on him became so tight that you were sure you’d leave marks on his skin. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Want you to bite me too.”

“Come first,” he shot back as he focused all of his energy into making sure that you did so. After a few more thrusts, you were coming right onto his cock, your essence covering more of his cock every time that he pulled it out and then pushed it right back in. 

“Ready for a bite?” He asked and you nodded your head numbly. Leaning down, he stuck his face in your neck and began to suck on the skin there. As soon as you released a moan at the feeling, you felt his teeth sink in. 

You had heard a lot about mating bites and how it would feel when you finally received one, but you could truthfully say that the feeling was indescribable. You truly felt like you were now connected to Namjoon in a way that you had never been connected with any one before and the feeling was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn’t recognize that Namjoon’s knot was pushing its’ way inside of you.

“God damn,” Namjoon groaned deeply as his knot fully popped into you, and you gasped when you felt his cum pouring into you right after. You leaned up and after finding the perfect spot, you sunk your teeth into his neck as well, giving him a mating bite too. 

Namjoon collapsed on top of you and the two of you stayed like that for a while, at least 15 minutes, basking in the after glow of your new matching mating bites. 

“No offense or anything,” you spoke up. “But you’re heavy and it’s hot in here.”

“Some offense taken,” he laughed as he lifted himself off of you. “My knot has gone down but it’s gonna hurt when I pull out.”

“Go slow, ok?” You requested and he nodded, looking down in between your legs and slowly pulling out of you. It did hurt a little and you even winced a little bit, but it wasn’t that bad all in all. 

“Y/N-ah?” He called as he laid down next to you and you gently turned over onto your side to face him.

“What happened to baby?” You simpered with a teasing smile, making him chuckle. 

“I’m still gonna call you that,” he assured you. “But I wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Ok, shoot,” you shrugged. 

“I know that you didn’t necessarily choose all of this and neither did I, but I don’t want you to worry,” he began. “I take this marriage and this relationship just as seriously as if we met in the conventional sense and I really mean it when I say that I can see myself falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I can already tell that you’re kind, selfless, loving, and the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met in my life. I’d only be so lucky if you fell in love with me.”

“Well, I think that I can fall in love with you too,” you confessed, making him grin widely. “And I hope that I do.”

[simpz-art-stash]

Late beginnings

Summary: Mac goes out for a drink, and happens upon some advice he takes into consideration about his skewered relationship with Wukong. Before finally taking some action to mend the long burnt bridge. (Author’s note: I barely did any beta reading for this so if it’s worded strangely that’s just how I write without the normal filter on. I’m country so HOWDY) Next Page ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was late, but he didn’t care, he might as well have been nocturnal with the way his whole life revolved around the whole stereotype of shadows and shit. He’d walked into a bar he’d passed through a few times before, donning his human disguise of course beforehand, and walked in without sparing anyone else a glance. Before planting his rear in one of the stools seated at the front bar, ordering a drink to get the night started. “I’m really looking forward to seeing that new Monkey King movie with the trailer they just released. You saw it too right?? The whole style of the film is on par with their most recent game- OH, you think they’re gonna make a game of it?? I bet you they wiiiill!~” Ugh, great, just what he’d come here to avoid.

Mac’s eyes glanced to the blabbermouth boasting about whatever new movie was being made about his ex, to see two girls residing a ways down near the other end of the bar a few seats away from him. Both looking to have had a fair night themselves already if any of the cups and plates hanging around their spot was anything to go by. “Probably. I hope it’s better than last game that came out on the Brick 360, the bugs in that thing were gross to deal with.” Their friend commented back. Before looking down at their phone and claiming that it was getting late and that they had to go. “Yeah I’ll see ya Monday!” The chick waved their friend off a lazy farewell after they’d paid their bill before going back to their drink, now taking less tedious sips as the mood seemed to smooth out from their conversation prior. “I see someone’s a pretty big fan of that ol’ man.” Macaque piped up from where he sat, earning the attention of the stranger he’d directed his comment towards. “The Monkey King yeah?” Sparks danced in the chick’s eyes at the recognition of the name, before the stranger perked up and beamed a smile back at him, “You betcha! I’m a total nerd for that legend.” ‘A legend, hah.’ “S’the whole reason I moved to China in the first place.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest, “All the way from America!” Mac whistled, “That’s a pretty far leap to take, even for a legend. What, you hopin’ you’ll get the chance to see em’ or somethin’?” He sneered, taking his glass and lazily swirling it in his hand. “I wish!” She laughed, “Nah I mostly just moved here for work. If anything though it’s cuz a them for where I am now. I’d never even heard of him till about five years ago!” Mac blinked, lowering his drink from his lips, “You’re joking…”

“Not at all! No one hardly knows the story back home. Only reason I found out was cuz I just started gettin’ into anything monkey-related as a hobby.” She pointed at him, “Don’t laugh either, it’s a wildly popular standpoint to have these days online.” Mac quirked a brow at that, he’d hardly touched the internet these days save for whenever he needed some quick info on something he couldn’t find elsewhere. He held his hands up, “Hey I ain’t judging…” He smirked a little to betray the look that he totally was though. It was kinda funny how ironic it was him being there right then. She squinted at him, “Anyways...Yeah, I’d seen stuff of him online, but I’d never paid much attention to it up until recently.” “What made you change your mind?” Mac boredly probed, taking a sip. She simply shrugged, “I was in a dark headspace, guy made me laugh.” He paused, “Wait, seriously??” “I mean have you HEARD half the crazy shit he’s done??” ‘Babe I’ve LIVED through half the shit he’s done.’ “Like, literally, the guy is HILARIOUS. My favorite story out of them all being one where he literally tricked THREE taoist immortals into drinking his own piss!!” She burst out laughing while Mac choked on his drink a little, not having expected to hear that of all things. Sure he’d heard a few of the shenanigan’s his peaches had gotten up to throughout his journey to the west but he’d never heard that one before. Nor had he the patience to read through all that mess of context that had been published either. “Ahhh man, it still gets me…” The chick sighed with a few leftover laughs as she wiped a tear from her eye. “What about you? What’s your favorite story?” She asked. And suddenly Mac felt like he’d been put on the spot as he stared back at her. “Come ooon, surely there’s one that’s gotten your gut rolling.” She pried. ‘Plenty, but there ain’t no way in hell I’d tell a soul.’ “Bahh...there ain’t the first one that comes to mind that I’d like. Honestly I’m not even much of a fan.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Whaaat?? Aw come on! There’s tons of cool n’ funny stories!” “Heh..can’t imagine what you find so charming about a guy who’s too good for his own friends.” Mac spitefully twacked himself mentally for spewing something so personal like that out. Ugh, and he hadn’t even finished half his drink yet… The chick sitting to his left seemed to tilt her head a little before she squinted at him. Her silence being what brought his attention from his drink to her as he blinked back with a quirked brow. “What?” “Your eyes, they’re like raging storm clouds.” She pointed out. He blinked, not really sure how to feel about that. The only one who’d ever really pointed that out to him before was… “...So?” “Nothing!...” She shrugged, turning back away towards her own drink as if no conversation at all had happened between them. Whatever...he had his fill of shit to drink to either way. The night might’ve been late but he was just getting started. “He makes me laugh though.” She pointed out, earning her a glance. “All his stories n’ stuff. If there was ever a man I’d want, it’d be one who could always make me laugh.” “Hmph, not one for strength?” He took a long sip. Ignoring the bitterness of others fawning over someone he’d come to love before he’d gotten so popular. “Strength is fine n’ all, but it can only take a relationship so far..you gotta have more pieces to put in that crockpot of a relationship if you wanna make it taste good. Stuff like patience, honesty, a little bit of everything to help it all come together to make it juuuuust right.” “Hm…” “It can’t be all just you putting the stuff in there either, it’s gotta be a contribution from both gardens. Otherwise you’ll just barren your lands and be left with nothing to spare yourself or others in your life with.” She glanced at Mac, “Relationships are tricky like that, but they should always be a 50/50 split~” She winked. That...actually sounded like pretty sound advice. Something he’d heard a little here and there before but never so simply laid out. Though it made sense from his standpoint, fairness n’ all that. But he’d been that way with Wukong before and it had never worked out, all the bickering and such, so what had gone wrong? “Can I...ask you something?” Mac inquired. “Shoot.” “What’re your thoughts on..a relationship that seemed fine, but then the other changed so much that everything about it fell apart?” “Mmm...care to sprinkle in a lil more context?” The chick eyed him. Mac’s face scrunched up a little, no idea why he was asking some random mortal for relationship advice of all things. “Hey man. We’re both probably never gonna meet again after tonight, so if you’ve got skeletons in your closet, your best place to let em’ out is here. Bartenders are known for being the most well kept secret keepers in all the world after all~” She winked at the bartender in question who simply looked the other way with a look that might’ve suggested such a fact as truth. “Hm…” Ah screw it, “Alright alright…” He sighed and put his drink down, “There’s..someone. We used to be real close, we were strong together but then uh..shit got real and he had to go deal with it. But when he came back he uh, wasn’t the same as before, an I might’ve sorta assumed he was cheating on me so…so we kinda fell out.” The chick nodded, “Ahh..the classic misunderstanding of change and cheating, a tale as old as time.” She seemed to hum a moment before she turned from where she was seated, if not to hop down off her stool and plop down on the one right up next to him. “Uh-” “Shhh, lemme see those eyes.” She squinted, leaning in and staring deep into his. It’d would’ve been really unnerving if she hadn’t said anything about them before, now he was a lil put off that he might’ve been asking a witch of all things for advice… “Right. Well, at least you feel bad about it. So there’s that.” He blinked and his brows furrowed, “Wh- of course I feel bad about it, it was his fault-” He suddenly had a finger pressed to his lips. “Nope! Nooononono, you do not get to throw all the blame elsewhere like that sweetheart. There ain’t no way in hell you’re gettin’ a second chance with them if you keep that up.” She pulled her hands back. His face scrunched up and he found himself crossing his arms, if he had his tail out it would’ve been irritably swaying behind him right then at just how annoyed he was getting at this weird lady and her words. “Oh yeah? An what do you think’s best then huh?” “I dunno if you’d be up for that kinda challenge…” She idly fiddled with an imaginative piece of lint off her sleeve, which only seemed to irritate Mac further at the thought of him not being able to handle Wukong of all people. Like sure he’d gotten his ass handed to him before but he could still hold his own! “Try me.” The chick glanced back at him with a smirk, which caught him off guard for a second before he shot her a glare back. “Alright, but it’s definitely not gonna be as quick or easygoing of a recovery as you might hope it’ll be. Nor is there even a chance of you recovering it in the first place. But, you at least got that spark enough to try so who am I to deny?” ‘Hmpt, dam right I got a spark.’

“First of all, no more blaming, if you’re gonna tackle this properly, you gotta do yourselves a favor an quit it with the blame placing. Sure it’s easy, but it ain’t gonna get you nowhere but back to square one. It’s all in the past, the now is now. So push forward to fix it and put it behind you two so you can focus on the more important things.” “Easier said than done…” “Hey man, even if they don’t follow the same ruleset at first you could always work things out to make it one later on. I’m just tellin’ ya right now so you won’t just go diggin’ yourself a deeper hole.” Honestly at this point he was pretty much six feet down under, death to him would’ve been a mercy right then. “Fine…” He rolled his eyes. “Next up, apologizing…” -----------~----------- “I thought I told you to stay off my island.” Mac didn’t really glance back from where he stood high up on one of the breathtaking ledges that which Flower Fruit Mountain bolstered. His arms crossed, eyes sternly held against the leftover warmth of the late afternoon sun as it shifted the skies hues from blue to blood red. Hopefully that would be the only tinge of red the Mountain would see after today. “I know.” “What, no witty remark? Give me one good reason-” “I just wanted to talk.” Mac stated plainly. “Why the hell should I give you the chance?” “...” Mac wasn’t sure if he could come up with a good enough reason after the shitshow he’d caused him the last few centuries, most recent being his spat with him between MK. “I’m sorry.” That seemed to catch the king off guard, as he paused in his vicious glare to stare at the other. “Excuse me??” “I’m.Sorry.” Mac turned finally to Wukong, that look of fiery malice having softened immensely upon meeting their eyes. “I was wrong for what I did and I’m sorry.” Wukong’s face looked like it had had a stroke with how frozen in place it was, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hurting everyone around you just to get back at you, I was wrong for doing that. And I just wanted to apologize.” Mac’s face twisted a little, the words coming out a little rougher than he’d liked, but he’d managed to get three steps in so far… “If you think a few sorry’s are gonna be enough to make up for all that crap then you gotta nother’ thing comin Mac.” Wukong finally shook off the surprise and crossed his arms with a steely gaze. “Nah I know they ain’t worth shit with as long as it's been...which it’s been..a really, really long time come to think of it..nearly 3000 years…” Fucking yikes. “What’s your point?...” Wukong raised a brow at him. “My point is...my point..” What was his point? To make amends and hope they’d get back together? To go back to the way things were? That couldn’t be done with the way things were now. Wukong had a successor, a moral compass, a lotta shit that Mac didn’t. A lotta shit that he wanted but never could figure out how to get his own. His face scrunched up a little and he sighed, “I..just wanted to make things right.” “Oh-hoh? After so long you finally decided to admit you were at fault? Sorry Mac, but it’s waaaay too late for that.” Wukong huffed, “Honestly, this is probably just another one of your stupid tricks if anything. The old Macaque would never throw himself down like that.” “Well maybe I’ve changed!” Mac exclaimed suddenly, his temper flaring a bit as his eyes flashed lightning. “3000 years later? As if…” Wukong rolled his eyes and turned away, “You’ve still got that same look in your eyes you always do whenever we fight. Do me a favor and just keep away from the hot springs this time yeah? The last time you were here you sent a whole dam boulder over there and smashed half the pools.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And I happen to take my once a month bath’s very seriously.” Mac’s nostrils flared a little at just how flamboyant Wukong was acting towards him and his attempt to make amends. How he just saw his attempt as a joke and nothing more, it pissed him off. Wukong had changed and everyone had accepted him, well not everyone, but still, why couldn’t the same be for him? Had he really fooled himself into believing that there was a chance he and Wukong could be together again? His shoulders slumped a little. Of course, who was he kidding. A 3000 year old pit of grudges wasn’t about to just up and disappear at the wave of a white flag. This was Wukong, the same guy who still playfully pestered the gods and demons around him for past conflicts that had happened between them. -----------~----------- “But you can’t just go, ‘ooo I’m so sorry for what I did.’ Nah, you gotta follow the five steps.” The chick claimed. “Yeesh, this a learning course now?” Mac tilted his head to the side. “It is if you wanna make things right.” She claimed matter a factly. “The five steps have never failed me before and have worked wonders for any an all my relationships. Might not quite have the same range of effect you’re going for but it’ll at least be a good start.” “Heh, you got the guts to back up that case?” Mac sneered. “I will if you don’t manage to screw it up.” The chick pointed out. “The five steps go as follows.” - express sorrow (I’m sorry) - own guilt (I was wrong) - name specific wrongs (I did X) - name impact (I hurt you) “And finally...” -----------~----------- “What can I do to prove myself to you?” Macaque asked finally. “What can I do to at least make it to where we can..not fight anymore..and just talk?...” Wukong stood there for a long moment, his features unreadable as their silence was muffled by the wind bellowing between them both from being so high up. “You really are serious about this aren’t you?...” Wukong’s head shifted ever so slightly, but not enough to where Mac could get a reading on his emotions. “I’m tired of fighting and waiting and thinking that if enough time passes things’ll go back to the way they were...when they never will. Trying to hurt you isn’t gonna make the old you come back, no matter how many times you beat me down...It’ll never be the same.” Mac admitted finally. A quiet gust settled down between them, before Wukong seemed to let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “Can’t believe it took me 3000 years to beat the sense into you.” He turned and looked back at the other, where he no longer held a look of seething hate, but more akin to that of the same tired look just as the one Mac wore. Mac felt a sliver of guilt wriggle its way into one of the cracks of his heart and he glanced away, pulling a hand back and scratching his head. “Yeah well...your kid hit me pretty hard last time, enough to knock it in place.” A small smile crept a little onto his face. “Hm~ He’s gettin’ pretty good at hittin’ stuff with that old stick.” Wukong’s eyes glinted a little at the appeal of how proud he was for MK having taken Mac out the way he did. A little over the top and flashy, just like him.” “He’s got a pretty strong master to thank for that…” Mac found himself yearning a little for that same glint to be reflected on his memory the same way as MK’s. Not that he couldn’t see himself holding the same appeal for MK the way Wukong did, kid was strong, just a lil desperate in some of the cracks that shaped his outline. Something Macaque found that was easy enough to take advantage of, and something Wukong held a blind eye to. “Hm.” Wukong’s reply pushed him out of those thoughts for the moment as they shared a brief look between one another. A glimmer of reconsideration flashing between the two before Wukong finally turned his head away to drink in the sunset before them. “One chance.” Mac felt his heart nearly stop at that answer. “I’ll give you one chance, but if you screw this up, don’t even think about showing your face to me again.” Wukong replied, “I mean it this time…” Mac swallowed a little and nodded. Anything, he’d be willing to do anything to gain back what little trust he could from Wukong. “Good...you can start making up for it by apologizing to MK.” Mac blinked and sputtered a little as Wukong turned away and began to make his way back down the mountain. A smile playing on his lips while Macaque groaned to the heavens about his next trial.

[hajimesh]

i’m alone now but it’s better for me, i don’t need all your negativity.

— losers in love m.list

+ pairing. kuroo t. / fem reader

+ genre. angst

+ word c. 1701

+ warnings. cheating, toxic relationships, kuroo is an asshole

+ author n. a big thank u to @bokuakadaily and @aomineavenue for beta reading it<33

the familiar heaviness presses down onto your chest.

you already lost count of how many times you’ve gone through this ever since you started dating him.

kuroo is talking with a girl —who’s obviously flirting with him since she keeps leaning closer and smiling playfully at him. 

“tetsurou-kun, your blocks are amazing!”

his smirk widens, clearly enjoying the ego boost.

it hurts to see him flirt so openly while you stand a few meters away from him, his teammates right next to you watching the scene as well.

you watch as his hand grasps a strand of the girl’s hair, her giggles making your blood boil, but it’s the way he kisses her cheek —slowly and then whispering something in her ear— that finally stabs the knife into your already wounded heart.

are you surprised you haven’t started crying yet? not at all. that’s a ritual reserved exclusively for the comfort of your room. 

they finally bid their goodbyes, kuroo jogging the small distance until he joins your small group. he speaks with his friends for a bit until you can no longer take it and pull him aside.

“that girl, she was flirting with you,” you state, observing him closely so you can gauge his reaction, “and you played along with it.”

his face morphs into a scowl, “i was being friendly.”

“well, don’t be friendly with her.”

a mirthless laugh escapes his lips, “kitten, you won’t tell me who i can or can’t talk to.”

your entire body freezes, letting his words sink in and tear at your heart. you reflexively look to the side, only to realize his words were loud enough for his teammates to hear.

their uncomfortable and pitying looks make you want to dig a hole and disappear.

you have to get out of there and that’s what you do, “i-i should get going.”

kuroo doesn’t pay much attention, nodding his head and turning his back to you and facing his friends again.

you start your way home with tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

—

the ice in your coffee has melted, giving it a bad taste.

you had foolishly decided to wait until kuroo arrived to start drinking your beverage. but forty minutes later and he still hasn’t shown up.

you tried calling him after waiting for twenty minutes: the first time it rang for a minute, the second time you were sent straight to voicemail. you have kind of grown used to it, it’s not unusual of him to stand you up, although it doesn’t make it any less painful.

trying to pass the time, you check your unopened texts and find one from kenma asking you about the controller he lent you a few weeks ago. you quickly type an apology and press send.

your phone vibrates on the table two minutes later and, expecting a text or a call from kuroo, you pick it up eagerly. 

kenma: it’s fine. kuroo brought it earlier

you: do you know where he is?

kenma: he’s here with me

it doesn’t take long for kenma to realize kuroo was supposed to be with you instead.

he casts a glance at his friend who lies unbothered on his couch, his feet dangling to the side while he plays with his phone.

kenma doesn’t understand him. at the beginning of your relationship he was always clinging onto you, and now it’s as if he doesn’t want to spend time with you anymore.

and don’t get him started with kuroo’s harsh words from the other day.

“get up,” kenma kicks his foot to get his attention, “i forgot i had to buy something for my mom.”

luckily, kenma remembers you mentioning something about wanting to go to the coffee shop and kuroo agreeing to it.

kenma pretends he didn’t hear him say ‘shit’ once he spotted you sitting all by yourself, scrolling on your phone.

kuroo makes his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders which causes you to jump on your seat.

“hi, kitten,” he purrs in your ear and kisses your cheek.

you become a blushing mess but a relieved smile graces your face once your boyfriend takes the seat next to you.

kenma doesn’t understand your relationship, but he does know that that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

—

can we meet? 

you lock your phone after sending the text. you know it’s going to be hours before you get a reply from him.

and you’re right because it’s now two hours later and there’s still no sign of him.

you debate between sending another text or wait until you see him at school. but after murmuring ‘fuck it’, you press send and throw your phone to your bed.

i wanted to do this in person but i think we should break up. you go over your words in your head, regretting them already. 

as you reach back for your phone, you see the screen light up with kuroo’s name displayed on it.

after taking a deep breath, you grab it and press the answer button.

“yes?”

“care to explain that text?” 

sighing, you allow yourself to flump on your bed, “tetsurou, i can tell your feelings have changed.”

“that’s not true.”

“it is. you’re always flirting with other girls.” 

he scoffs, “i can’t just shove them away, they take the time to watch my games.”

“okay,” you let it go and jump to the other topic that bothers you, “what about our dates? you either stand me up or cancel at the last minute.”

“because i’ve got stuff to do!”

the line goes silent.

it seems as if he has an excuse for everything… or is he simply telling the truth?

“i’ll make it up to you, okay?” his tone has softened considerably, “i’ll drop by your house later and we can watch that show you wanted.”

you hesitate, the offer sounds tempting but something is holding you back from accepting it.

“kitten?”

the way he coos the nickname goes straight to your heart, and that’s all it takes for him to win you back.

“mhm, i’ll order a pizza then?”

“you know you’re the best, right?”

you hang up after setting up the details, a stupid smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards.

yes, your plan might have failed, but you’re finally spending time with your boyfriend.

—

another failed date.

kuroo was supposed to pick you up from your home and he either forgot about it or deliberately chose to stand you up.

the disappointed looks from your mother are the last straw. you have made up your mind and —as terrified as you are— your eyes have finally opened to the cruel reality: kuroo tetsurou is not the love of your life.

as much as you want him to be, he wouldn’t be treating you like he does if that were the case. you can’t keep living in a fantasy where he’ll suddenly go back to how he was during your first three months together.

before you confront him at his house, you take a quick detour to your favorite spot. it’s a park you always went to as a kid and now you go whenever you feel suffocated or need to think things through.

the park has a nice pond with a bridge over it, so you take the time to walk on it, your fingers gliding over the worn-out metal railing. you take note of the little ducks swimming in it and how lovely the petals look floating on the water.

you have never been one of those people who easily recognize others from afar —your sight barely allows you to look two meters ahead of you— but your eyes are drawn to a tall figure standing under a tree. it looks familiar, but you have to take a few more steps in their direction so you can put a face on it. 

the universe must really want you to open your eyes, giving you a push and showing you your boyfriend making out with another girl.

you almost feel jealous, wondering how would it feel to have him kiss you with such desire. to have his large hands running over your waist and his breath brushing against your lips.

instead, you find yourself disgusted at how easily he can ignore your relationship and do this behind your back, like a coward.

kuroo’s eyes open right as you walk towards them and he curses, shoving the girl away and running his fingers through his hair nonchalantly.

“h-hey, kitten! what are y–”

“we’re done.”

he blinks, not sure if he heard you correctly. though the hostility coming off of you tells him that wasn’t the case.

“c’mon,” he smiles but it falters at the last second, “we’ve gone through this before.”

the way your brows scrunch up and your eyes look fleetingly at the ashamed girl next to him, cause an unsettling feeling to sit on the pit of his stomach.

“i’ll change,” he smiles refreshingly but the way his eyes dart from your face to the space behind you, never making direct contact with your own, betray his tone.

“no, you won’t,” you say curtly and sigh, your posture visibly deflates as if a huge weight has been suddenly placed over you, “tetsu, i’m tired.”

upon hearing the defeat in your tone, his throat knots painfully. he notices how you do look tired, your eyes don’t sparkle as they used to when you saw his face, and your lips are drawn downwards.

kuroo doesn’t remember the last time he saw you smile. he can’t even remember the sound of your laugh but he knows it used to make his heart flutter.

you look drained, and it’s all his fault.

“one more chance,” he pleads, his tone unusually anxious, “kitten, just one. i swear i’ll treat you like you deserve.”

he takes a step forward, trying to get a hold of your hands but you involuntarily move away.

“it’s over.”

your figure backs away until he can no longer see you, never turning to look back at him, not even once.

and that’s how kuroo tetsurou experienced his first heartbreak, caused by no other but himself.