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unprofessional-bard · 4 years ago

Text

Don't Push It, Pt. 1

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Part 2 (1/2)

Based on this request.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), a lot of teasing/sexual tension, implied romantic feelings.

Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.

Word Count: 5.280

Author's Note: Okay y'all so I am a whore for Joel with long hair and I unintentionally made this into a fix-it au where Joel is alive. Also, the reader is going to have some OC characteristics to fit the scenario better. Finally, this fic changes POV's a lot, so I'm gonna clear that up:

• ----R and below: The reader's POV.

• ----J and below: Joel's POV.

• ----B and below: Both POV's.

The fic starts off with Joel's POV.

Enjoy!

gif credits: nikolai-stavrogin

"Hey, Joel," Dina called over to the man sipping coffee on his porch.

"Mornin' Dina," He replied as his daughter's girlfriend walked over to him. Her baby bump had grown a little more and it never failed to put a smile on Joel's face.

"There's a little trouble with the patrol today," She said. "Jesse won't be able to make it to patrol with (Y/N)."

Shit.

"And they're askin' me to fill in?" He sat up a little.

"Yup, Maria told me to ask you if-"

"No problem, sure, I'll do it." He spoke nonchalantly, then asked if Jesse was alright. Dina told him she wasn't sure, that it must be something important for him to miss patrol, which made Joel nod: "You told (Y/N) too, or...?"

"No, but she's gonna be there regardless. I doubt that she knows."

"Alright, thanks Dina," Joel got up and she smiled in return before walking over to Ellie's place.

It was wrong. By the lord it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. You were fierce, confident, determined and disciplined; qualities he came to appreciate in time, but a bit differently only when it came to you. He shouldn't want you, an unknown source in his mind kept telling himself, but he did. He didn't know why, he never found himself being attracted to a woman your age, yet you had him under your spell. Oh the things you did to him...

Worst part was, he couldn't have you, whether he liked it or not. Nevermind the fact that you were too young for him, you probably didn't want him anyways- despite the crystal clear signals he got from you. It was just how you were, though: A little physical and perhaps a little flirty, but he could just be confusing that with your confidence.

Or he could be overthinking everything.

Joel readied his backpack, but realised there was still a little more than an hour before the rendez-vous, so he decided to head over to your place to tell you about the news to kill some time. After he made it there and knocked on your door while calling your name a couple of times, which were left unanswered, your neighbour curiously looked over the fences and called over to Joel: "She left a while ago... For the gym, I think."

"Thank you," Joel smiled politely and earned a wave from the lady in return. He took his time as he walked over to the gym. After he arrived, he looked around for awhile to spot where you were, but when he found it, the sight almost made him choke.

There you were, ankles crossed as you pulled yourself up and chin over the barfix with closed eyes, a frown and a clenched jaw. Sweat laced the sides of your face and Joel's eyes wandered lower: You were wearing a sports bra and matching shorts which hugged your frame tightly and the sun was shining directly onto your muscles, which the lord himself carved out and were also sweaty, but Joel didn't care - it made you look more attractive, if anything. You let out a huff and lowered yourself down, while he tried to collect himself. He didn't want to disturb you so he decided to wait until you finished...

...but you didn't seem to be finishing any time soon. He didn't want to look like a creep as he stood there and waited, so after you did another pull up and let yourself down, he cleared his throat.

----R

"(Y/N), here you are."

Had you not been already hanging, you definitely would've fell when you heard Joel's voice reach your ears. You opened your eyes to see him slowly approach you, his stupid thumb stuck in behind his stupid belt.

You hated it: You hated finding this man attractive and you hated your guts for occasionally flirting with him - him, who probably would never look at you the way you looked at him. He liked you, of course, he enjoyed your company but not the way you wanted him to. You hated that you had a crush on this man, who became even more gorgeous as he let his hair grow over the last few years, you also hated how he neatly parted it to the left.

Patrol with him was both a treat and a curse at the same time. You got to spend time with him, which made it a treat, but when you watched him- saw him in action, how aggressive he was, heat started to pool between your thighs. He was so rough and precise as he was smart; he always knew what to do under any circumstance, so you almost never worried when you went out with him. He made you feel safe, praised you and played with your heart when he responded to your flirting and nothing came out of it.

You hated it because your little "crush" on him was pathetic, for someone as confident as you. Sure, you teased and flirted with him, but one praise as simple as you did well today and you'd be melting on spot. You even tried to get with other people to distract yourself, to no avail. They weren't Joel.

None of them could ever be Joel.

"Good morning!" You said with a high pitched voice, reflecting your struggle to keep yourself up.

"To you too," He chuckled at your state and watched as you pulled yourself up slowly. "Hey, listen. Jesse ain't gonna make it to patrol today so I'm fillin' in for him."

----B

The way you faltered a little didn't escape him: "Why? Is he okay?"

"I dunno, but I'm sure he is. Something important must've come up," Joel informed you, not wanting to worry you as you seemed to care about him. A lot. Ugh.

"Tsk," You breathed out and closed your eyes to focus on keeping your head above the metal bar.

Joel then spoke again: "Yeah, I was just here to let ya know."

"Okay, well-" You exhaled audibly and suddenly let yourself go. The force of the action sent you flying a little and it almost made you bump into him: "Woah, oh, sorry-"

"Woah there," You both chuckled at the same time. Joel held you by your elbows to help you balance yourself and your heart rate picked up pace when you realised how close your face was to his chest a moment ago - the chest you wanted to get your hands on: How muscular was he? How many scars did he have there? How would it feel to run your fingers through the hair as you ro-

"Uhm, yeah, as I was saying," You snapped yourself back to reality and took a small step back, disappointed by the way his fingers let go of your arms: "I'm done here, just need to do a couple of stretches, then head back and take shower."

"Right. Well, I'll see you at the gate, then?"

"Uh, sure, yeah."

You didn't know what else to say other than stay. You wanted him near you and around you, you wanted to show off to him and you wanted his attention, so you had to think quick.

Joel didn't want to leave either, even though you were going to spend the whole day together. He still nodded and turned around to leave. It was then, when a brilliant idea crossed your mind: "Actually, Joel?" He turned around, gave you a soft look that made you want to run up to him and kiss all over his face. "Could you help me with my stretches?"

If he'd been drinking or eating anything, he most definitely would've choked: "Help you?"

"Yeah," You flashed a smile at him. "It's simple, you just gotta press me down and keep me in place." The widening of his eyes, puzzled face and his tense posture made you shy. "Eh- Normally, Jesse helped me with them."

True. Some stretches required someone to push your body to its limits - when you worked out alone, you stuck to simpler stretches, but right now, you needed a reason to have him by your side.

Joel was torn between leaving, like a responsible person who knew when to walk away would. He was responsible, yes, but his moral compass was thrown out of the window whenever you joined the picture. So far, he wanted to think he was handling his emotions well- by not acting on them and not talking about them.

Now, however, it was as if he was facing the last straw. He had a few boundaries left to cross, and this was one of them.

"Plus, I'm a bit tired to do them. Will you help me?"

Lies. All lies.

You'd been doing these stretches for long enough, even though you'd worked hard, you weren't tired at all. Joel thought this to be the case, so he tried to go around it: "You sure? I mean, how're you tired?"

"I've been training like hell this morning," You settled on the mat. "I don't wanna do these stretches, but I have to. I'm not in the mood to pull a muscle today."

That was good enough for him really: "'Kay," He sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

Your eyes glowed in excitement before you faced forward and explained: "Im gonna lean forward, like this-" You extended your legs forward and lowered yourself down. "All you gotta do is press on my back and stop me from moving away for a few seconds."

A few seconds which felt like five minutes, truth be told.

As soon as he touched your bare back, you sighed, then forced it into a hiss. He immediately retreated his hands, thinking he hurt you, pushing the ludicrous idea that you might have moaned away immediately.

His hands were big and a little cold comparing to your skin which was on fire after the workout, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't do that on purpose. You straightened up and looked at him with an innocent smile: "Your hands are cold."

Not cold enough to make you react like that, obviously.

Joel offered an awkward chuckle from the back of his throat: "You're gonna have to deal with it, missy."

And deal with it you did- barely. Christ, that was a bad idea, your worst one yet. To have his hands on your bare skin, pressing you down made your cheeks burn and mouth hang open as he kept you in place. You almost didn't hear him when he spoke, too busy trying to comprehend the size of his hands and how they'd feel around your throa-

"How many of these do you gotta do?"

"Uh, dunno," You blurted out. "Not too many."

Joel was partly glad, it felt so wrong yet it was just a simple act of help you could've asked from anyone. After 20 seconds of staying like that, you straightened. You went into a head-to-knee position and gave him an okay to press you down again.

You switched to the other leg after half a minute, but you were running out of ideas. There weren't any positions left that you could use his help with, so you played one last card to ruin him: "More."

"W-What?"

Good riddance.

"Press a little harder," You pretended to focus and tried your best not to smirk, knowing you had him where you wanted.

"Oh- hm," He cleared his throat and pressed a little more down on your back. If your plan hadn't backfired and made you almost moan through your teeth, everything was going accordingly.

Joel went to pull back, but stopped when you added: "It's been a while since I did these..."

Christ.

"That enough?" He slowly retreated his hands and stood up, watching you lean up where you sat.

"Yup, that'll be it," You smiled and blinked a couple of times. If Joel had known better, he would've thought you were making him do that, then being all cute on purpose-

It was going to be a long day.

----R

Patrol with the older Miller went as normally as it always was. Part one usually went like this: Meet up at the gate, get your rifles and horses, ride out, reach checkpoint one and sign your names. The road to checkpoint one didn't have any trouble, it usually never did. It was more quiet between you two than usual though. Had you gone too far?

"So, uh," You said once the two of you mounted your horses again. "You coming to the dance tonight?"

"What?" He snapped his head in your direction, looking clueless. "What dance?"

"Well, not a dance exactly but- you know what I mean?" You started riding. "The adults only event?"

He looked really distracted, a bit tense even: "Oh, right. You know those ain't my thing."

"I know," You nodded with a soft smile. "But I haven't seen you in any event ever since you decked Seth."

"Decked?" Joel chuckled bitterly at the memory.

"He deserved it, and more, that prick," You rolled your eyes, making him chortle.

"And nobody managed to shut up about it for the whole month," He sighed with a gorgeous yet tired smile on his face which you managed to see just in time. "So, no thanks. I'll pass."

"Aw, come on," You whined. "You can't avoid coming to these events forever. Please?"

He gave you a confused look, his smile slowly disappearing but not in a bad way: "Why?"

A good question. Oh, no reason, just wanna try and make a move on you, quite possibly jump your bones if it all goes well.

"I wanna make sure you haven't lost your ability to socialise." You offered.

"Really? Why, you're my momma now?"

"Ew, no," You both laughed. "Can't I be sure my friend is alive and well occasionally?"

----J

Friend.

A word that made Joel stop and think.

You saw him as a friend, huh? Two people, with clear sexual tension and an obvious age gap between them- Friends was an awkward description for him, but it was better than nothing.

He opened his mouth to reply, to insist that he was indeed alive and well, but you stopped him: "You know what I mean."

The conversation was making him a little distracted, he noticed, so he decided to keep his mouth shut until you reached checkpoint two. You didn't press him on, which was also a delight. That's another thing he liked about you: You knew your bounds- in patrol anyways. Or maybe it was because you got to know him well over the time, knew what he liked or not.

Part two went quieter too- infected and conversation wise. Not even a single runner was on sight as you swept through the small cabins and houses. Except for the occasional clear's and nothing here's, you didn't say anything else. Joel itched to talk to you, about anything to break the silence, but he was too lost in thought.

When you finally made it back to Jackson, you finally spoke up: "So? You coming?" He chuckled, mostly out of relief, then you added: "I found a new outfit, I wanna know what you think."

That caught Joel's attention. With a curious smile, after handing over your horses, he asked: "What outfit?"

"You'll see... If you come." You smirked, your close proximity making Joel's heart race.

"Don't get your hopes up," He sighed with a small grin and tucked his thumb behind his belt, the other one gripping the strap of his rifle.

"You're the worst," You punched his shoulder with mock upset, making him chortle and stumble a little to the right. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Joel remained quiet, then you walked away with a soft smile gracing your lips. The words sunk deeper than he would've liked, a sudden wave of guilt soaking his guts with regret, even though you didn't sound disappointed or upset. Lips pursed, he watched you hand your rifle to Peter and sign off, then leave; his steps coming to a halt as you did.

He just might check out what was up at the dance tonight, if he could successfully move himself out of his comfort zone in the following few hours.

----R

"Well well, look who it is," Tommy grinned when you approached the doors of the pub. The night had settled across the sky by the time you stepped outside your place. The sound of music and chatter of the people from inside filled your ears.

"Yours truly," You smirked. "It's crowded in there huh?"

"It sure is," Tommy said as he turned around to lead you inside. "Adults only events tend to attract more people, as y'can guess. Don't you look pretty today."

"Why thank you." You smiled playfully: "For no one, but myself, at that."

You lied through your teeth. You had dressed up in the silly hope that Joel would actually show up. You had been planning on it ever since you came across the item wrapped around your hips in an abandoned clothes shop a few weeks ago, and this event was the perfect excuse for you to wear it. For him.

"I ain't sayin' nothing!" Tommy raised his hands up in defense. "Figured that much, haven't seen anyone catch your interest in a long time."

Ha. Nice.

The atmosphere was lively and the air was warm, full of energy. Chatter and dancing went about the packs of people scattered across the space, but you couldn't see Joel, much to your disappointment - you weren't surprised though. What surprised you was Jesse suddenly showing up.

"Where's Ellie and Dina?" You asked after a while of teasing him about missing patrol.

"They decided to stay behind, I guess." He shrugged.

"What can I get y'all?" Tommy smiled, suddenly appearing behind the counter. Without waiting for an answer, he filled two glasses and pushed them towards you. You and Jesse looked at each other for a brief moment, before knocking it back at one go. "Woah there..."

A round of laughter later, you felt someone's presence behind you, then they tapped you on the shoulder: "Hey, (Y/N)!"

Much to your disappointment, once more, it was a boy named Mark. He was a year older than you, had no features whatsoever matching Joel's prettier ones and he took an obvious liking to you, which in truth you didn't appreciate, even though he wasn't weird about it or anything. You faked a smile and turned to him a little: "Hi."

"Good to see you," Sure. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Busy, actually," You pointed at the glass Tommy was refilling for you.

"Mind if I join?" He made himself comfortable on the stool next to you.

"Yeah. I do." Your smile never faded but your words were laced with poison.

He looked between you, Tommy and Jesse, mortified at your answer: "W- Heh, well, would you wanna dance later, then-?"

"No, I don't." You spoke calmly and turned to face Jesse again, only for him to move to tap you on the shoulder, which Tommy stopped from happening.

"Why don't you go home, huh?" He grabbed his wrist firmly, but not hard enough to leave a bruise of course. "The lack of oxygen in your brain's clearly stoppin' you from understandin' a word as simple as no."

You looked over at the younger Miller, a stern look on his face which seemed to make Mark piss himself. Suddenly, an even deeper voice was heard behind the boy: "I advise you to listen to him, son."

You turned completely in your seat to see Joel grabbing Mark by the shoulders, making him jump, then remove him from the seat carefully. Mark's legs were quick to oblige, making him walk towards the exit, but Joel held him in place: "A-ah, what do you say to the lady?"

"I'm s-sorry, (Y/N)," He nodded quickly. "I'll never disturb you again, I promise."

"Good boy," Joel patted him on the back, which sent him running to the door. Your cheeks were suddenly burning and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"Tsk, what a jackass," Tommy nodded disapprovingly as Joel took the now empty space next to you.

"You decided to show then, huh?" You smirked at Joel.

"Yeah, figured you'd break someone's wrists and make 'em eat it," He chuckled, tipping his head at his brother in a greeting -God he looked so handsome, was that a new shirt?- before he continued: "Decided it'd be a shame to miss it."

You giggled and lightly pushed at his arm, almost immediately feeling the muscles underneath the rolled up sleeve of his blue shirt: "I'll take that as a I came because you asked and I listened for once." The exchange, obviously, didn't go unnoticed by his brother and Jesse, which made you sit upright suddenly: "Tommy was the one who was gonna break his wrist anyways..."

"Nobody gets to disturb anyone here, especially right in front of me," He said and slid a glass to his brother.

Jesse joined in: "I doubt it, but should he ever-"

"Aw, you guys are spoiling me," You grinned and waved your hand down, pressing the other onto your chest.

----J

You looked beautiful. You were wearing a plain, dark green, mid-thigh, flare skirt; which could pass as a miniskirt, but Joel was no fashion expert. You always did come up with the rarest clothing items (like your sports set that morning), so he wasn't surprised that you happened across the skirt. You also had a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt on- which all in all was the reason you left Joel speechless: You could be wearing something as simple as these, but you'd still look so damn pretty.

A few minutes later, after Jesse and Tommy disappeared in different directions and you were finally left alone, Joel spoke up: "Is this the-"

"What made you-" You gave each other a brief look before chuckling: "You go first."

"Ah, I was gonna ask if this was the outfit you wanted me to see," He said, briefly looking down to point at your skirt.

He watched you run a hand through your hair and bite your bottom lip before answering: "Yeah..." You got up and stuffed your hands in your pockets, which made Joel's heart sizzle. "What do you think?"

He gave you a genuine smile: "I think you look beautiful."

The shock on your face made Joel panick a little, but when you offered a shy little smile, he relaxed: "You- Really?"

He gave you a single, slow nod in acknowledgement, his smile grew bigger when you beamed at him and offered him a quiet thank you, then sat back. You were staring hard at your glass, clearly avoiding his gaze and he found it rather cute, but didn't comment on it.

He was looking forward to chat with you, after all, you were the reason why he showed up, but you were unfortunately dragged away by a couple of friends, Jesse included...

To dance.

An upbeat song he didn't recognise started playing, putting you and another boy, Mick, to action. Everyone backed away to give you two space, then started off with what seemed to be something you'd been practicing for a while. You mirrored each other's moves, it was similar to some folk dance he'd watched way before the outbreak, but it most definitely wasn't a folk dance. Your arms linked occasionally, hands on your hips as you crossed each other's legs with fast movements and other types of moves Joel couldn't name if he tried, but it was organised and fun to watch. It wasn't intimate, too, just a silly little dance as you called it minutes later when you finished and walked to the bar for a drink. You didn't stay long, though, just downed your drink, winked at him and went back to the stage where you and Mick (but mostly you) stole the show.

It went on for two more rounds, to the point your t-shirts were absolutely soaked and your legs couldn't take it anymore. Joel had a particularly hard time in his seat, watching your skirt float around your thighs made him feel embarrassed with himself. Tommy even went as far as to tease him about his constant squirming, but a glare from his older brother was enough to shut him up.

The last dance finished off with you in Mick's arms, leaning back in his hold and closing your eyes with laughter. Everyone clapped you both, which earned you a kiss on the cheek from Mick- which you returned. Joel's jaw clenched unintentionally, even though you and him didn't appear to be more than friends.

Stop. Stop it, you idiot.

He couldn't care less about these types of things, drama about who's dating who and whatnot, but when it came to you he naturally grew curious.

He watched you, eyelids struggling to keep themselves open as Jesse led you and helped you onto the stool, next to Joel once more. You huffed and giggled, eyes closed with sweat droplets on your forehead. He couldn't help it when his smile grew wider at your tipsy state.

What he didn't see coming was the sudden hand on his thigh and your back against his arm, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you let out a brief laugh: "Never let me dance and drink at the same time again."

Joel didn't know what to say, he quickly looked around for Jesse only to find him already gone and a couple of people staring at the both of you. With a rush of panic, he responded: "I don't think I'm the one you should say that to, darlin'."

Your hand and the rest of your body immediately retreated when you jumped at his voice: "Joel?!" You looked a little embarrassed and he couldn't help but smirk. "Uh, where's Jesse?"

The question almost made him scrunch up his face, but he patiently waited until the end of the conversation, which was after you've walked away to find the boy in question and he was alone with his own thoughts... Jealousies...

"He dropped you off and went over there, I think." Joel nodded to the direction he thought Jesse went off to - he didn't see though, he was too busy focusing on you when your fingertips had brushed somewhere dangerously near his crotch.

"Huh," You stared around to find him, but Joel figured you were too intoxicated to actually see that far. "You need to stop wearing the same clothes."

He raised a brow at that: "You tell him that."

"Oh I will," You grinned mischievously and suddenly grabbed Joel's glass of whiskey from his hand, then downed it at one go before he could intervene.

"Hey!" He tried to grab the glass from you but you leaned back. "I think you've had enough for the night."

"Says who-?" You pouted and at the very same time, lost your balance, realising that you leaned a little too back. However, Joel caught you; one hand on your arm, the other on your waist and he pulled you back - he didn't know if you did it purposefully, but you practically fell into his body: "Oh! I'm sorry-" You laughed, not looking sorry at all. "Thanks, Joel," You purred, extending the 's' and the 'l' at the end of each word as you grabbed onto his biceps. "You saved me."

"Pfft," Joel couldn't help but let his hand linger on your waist as he made sure you stood in place. Your eyes met when you lifted your head from his chest - the meaning behind his hazel gaze and your own was similar and it lasted for what felt like a whole minute, while in reality it was no longer than a few seconds.

You finally let his arms go and he took it as his cue to remove his hand from your waist (which, for a moment, felt like it had been glued there): "So... You enjoying yourself, old man?"

Joel sighed through his nose, amused at how the alcohol in your system was slowing your speech, then went back to how he had been sitting before you came. Just when you asked, the smooth, familiar tune of Ain't No Sunshine started playing. After all the excitement, a slower music felt nice: "Sure. You?"

"Oh I sure am," You nodded and leaned back against the counter with something of a triumphant smile.

"I can tell," Joel replied, then without turning his head, side eyed you. His stare later on moved down to your skirt. "Why'd you get all dressed up for, really?"

"Huh?" You blinked, not processing if he was asking what you thought he was.

"I, uh- just never took you for the skirt type."

"Is that so?" You asked, eyes widening. "Well, just trying on a new outfit..." You looked down and bit your lower lip, making Joel's heart skip a beat. He mentally kicked himself for not leaving right then and there and continuing to talk to you: "There's actually another reason."

"Hm?"

"There's this guy," You turned towards him, placed your arm paralleled across his on the counter and leaned forward a little, pretending to look around. His fingertips scratched against the wooden surface of the counter at the mention of this guy in question. "I don't know his name, but maybe you do?"

He just raised a brow when you looked at him innocently: "He's a bit old, around this tall," Your hand went back and forth in the air as you tried to size the man's height in your mind. "Has pretty, long, graying hair with an also graying beard... A little scar on his nose," You looked at him and leaned in a little more, invading his personal space but not touching him, then pointed at the exact spot on your nose and it was then, Joel realised, that you were indeed describing himself. "He's wearing this blue shirt and, honestly, it would look better on him if he opened another button or two."

I know, I know

Hey I oughta leave young thing alone

But ain't no sunshine when she's gone

He wanted to counter, tease you back, lean down and taste your lips, then place a kiss or two on your neck and bite it softly just to hear you moan quietly into his ear- he also needed to get his shit together, as much as he wanted to do all of that.

He couldn't quite believe his self control when he leaned away from you, especially since the tip of your noses almost touched and he felt your hot breath on his lips. He cleared his throat and quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking- no one had seen the rather intimate interaction so he spoke: "I don't know who that is."

The disappointment on your features was like a knife twisting up in his guts. You blinked a couple of times, but didn't lean back: "S- Sure you do..."

"I don't," Joel insisted, his voice stern. "Maybe you should look for someone else."

Your disappointment turned into embarrassment and anger, making you frown and lean back: "Excuse me."

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

And with that, you got up and stormed away, leaving Joel wanting, aching and ashamed.

Anytime she goes away

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feliix · 4 years ago

Text

halloween hookup ↠ lee minho

↠ CEO!Minho x Reader

↠ Genre: Smut, fluff(ish), coworkers 2 lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 4.9k

↠ Summary: The details of your company Halloween bash are all a blur once you wake the next morning, well, at least until you notice your boss Lee Minho lying beside you in an unfamiliar bed.

↠ Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, semi-public sex, nudes (but not the kind you think of lmao), dum/sub themes, mentions of alcohol and drinking. (though this fic does not include sexual intercourse following the consumption of alcohol, please remember to drink responsibly and that consent is not consent if you are under the influence!)

↠ A/N: here’s to spooky season and minho day (even though i’m a day late oopsie). and as always thank you to @jinterlude for beta reading ily ♡

The bright morning sun creeps through your curtains, scattering light through your bedroom and grazing your bare skin with its rays. A peaceful way to start your Saturday morning, you muse, snuggling deeper into your bed. As you come to your senses, you notice something is quite off. The room smells stale, your sheets feel slightly more scratchy than usual, and something is weighing down over your waist.

Your eyes snap open, realizing that the object weighing down your waist is in fact, someone's arm. The sheets you’re lying over are not yours, and the odd aroma that’s filling the room can not compare to the sweet scent of your own apartment. As if that isn’t bad enough, you’re not able to identify whose arm is slung over your body, pulling your waist backward against their warm bare chest.

Where am I?

Without waking up the unknown man, you carefully shift your weight to release yourself from his grasp. You take your head into your hands, gently massaging your temples trying to relieve the hangover paging through your brain.

The memories from the previous night are stale in your mind. You rack your brain, trying to come up with some reason as to why you’re here and exactly how you yourself got into this position. You sit up in bed, cautiously wrapping the sheets over your body. It seems like a dream or distant illusion, and you can’t quite piece together how it all went down.

You remember being at the company Halloween bash, you remember having useless small talk with a bunch of your coworkers, playing some stupid game that definitely would have been better if it involved some alcohol, and then it got even lamer, so you left with Minho.

Oh my gosh. You left with Minho. As in your boss, Lee Minho.

Your head whips around your body to look at the sleeping body lying next to you as if you’re expecting to see anyone else placed beside you. The memories of what happened last night come flooding back to you, and it went something like this.

The party was held in your office conference room, which was just big enough to squeeze all 20 people in your department into one space, but small enough where you would bump up against the person next to you if you moved too abruptly. Various types of appetizers and finger foods lined the long meeting table which stretched the entire length of the room. There was also a small end table in the corner topped with various types of soda, a bowl of punch, and some booze that George from IT brought. Not that you would ever drink at an office party, that was way too risky.

A few girls from HR had decided to decorate with some cut out pumpkins they printed off some computer paper and orange streamers that were probably leftover from your last boss's going away party.

After your last boss had left, your company hired Lee Minho, a young business professional from a different location that your company owned. Mr. Lee was a pretty laid back guy compared to your last boss. It was pretty weird having a boss as young as Mr. Lee, but he always made sure to bring some fun into the workplace whenever he could, like this Halloween bash for instance. Not to mention, he was the most attractive boss you'd ever had. All the other female employees seemed to agree, swooning over him with every opportunity that they were given.

Mr. Lee also really enjoyed flirting with his employees, male and female. It was hard to tell if he was being nice or just hitting on you the first time he complimented your outfit. The next time he complimented your blouse you noticed his eyes wandering down to your boobs, and you knew it was not just an innocent compliment, but hey, he was attractive so you were definitely not complaining about it.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in your back pocket of your denim skirt startled you, causing you to jump before fumbling your hands back to reach for the device.

Mr. Lee: I like your cat ears ;)

The sides of your lips lifted into a small smirk before picking your head up to look for Minho across the room. He gave you a small smile and finished his gesture off with a wink before you looked back down, sliding open your phone and responding.

Y/N: thanks! where's your costume? corporate won't let you join in on the fun for once :(

Mr. Lee was dressed in his usual attire, some black dress pants, and a black button-down, but accompanied by a very festive orange and black halloween tie. The slender fit of his shirt made his shoulders look especially broad in comparison to his narrow waist.

Before you could even look up from your phone Minho was standing by your side with a cup of punch in each hand, tilting his head towards one of the glasses to offer it up to you. Nodding your head, you smiled a thank you and took the red cup from his grasp.

You coolly leaned your back against the wall behind you, trying to stay out of the way of all the useless chatter going on between the coworkers surrounding you. Mr. Lee was quick to follow suit, sliding his legs down a little further away from the wall so he could match your height.

"This party is kind of lame," he whispered in your ear, earning him a small grin and soft chuckle from you. Most of the employees at your office were much older than you, so it was hard for you to connect with them. They all had their own families and children, where you had just become financially stable enough to move out of your parent’s house.

"You think anyone will notice if we leave?" You said sarcastically, playing along with his charade, just equally bored of the small talk your coworkers were making around you.

"Yeah, but I think I can get us out of it," he replied smoothly, pushing his back off of the wall and walked towards the conference room door, shooting you a quick wink before he made his exit. You had no idea what Minho had in store to get you out of this party but you sure hope it was good.

Not a minute later, the desk phone in the conference room began to ring. Everyone shot each other questioning glares, slightly confused as to who would be calling the office after hours on a Friday. Minho's secretary sauntered over to the phone before holding her index finger over her lips, signaling everyone around her to be quiet.

"Hello this is Amy," she said, cocking her head to the side and furrowing her brows, trying to understand what the caller was saying at the other end of the line. Her expression quickly changed to a small smile as she looked around the room, eyes landing on you before responding to the caller.

"I'll let her know. Thank you, Mr. Lee," Amy replied before hanging up the phone, "Y/N, Mr. Lee needs help with something and would like for you to meet him in his office as soon as possible."

Trying your hardest not to let a smirk creep onto your face, you nodded your head and placed your unfinished drink down on the table. Curious to see what Minho had in-store to get you out of the party, you made your way out of the conference room and to his office.

Peeking through the office window, you saw Minho seated at his desk on his phone. His legs were crossed with his feet placed upon the surface in front of him. The small lamp on his desk dimly illuminated the room, reflecting some light off of his shiny black shoes. He raised his head, eyes wandering away from his phone as you cracked open the door to his office.

"Mr. Lee, you needed help with something?" You inquired sweetly, giving him a grin while making your way into the room.

"Ah, I've been waiting for you." He joked smiling back at you, "Shut the door behind you." You obliged, carefully wrapping your fingers around the handle and closing the door lightly, sure to not make a sound.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, moving closer to Minho as he swung his legs off the desk and placed his feet on the ground.

"Well I figured we could have our own fun, that party was so lame," he said, holding his hand out for you to take. You hesitated, wondering where this was going but you took his hand in yours, curious to find out. He pulled you in closer so your frame stood between his legs, making your heart jump in your chest.

"What did you have in mind?" You smirked, feeling your body beginning to grow warm with anticipation.

"Hmm," he started, patting his thigh for you to take a seat on, "something not so spooky I suppose."

A knot began to form in your throat, causing you to swallow hard before stuttering out the word "Spooky?" and sitting down on his thigh.

Minho softly chuckled, "I've never seen anyone look so sexy in cat ears before, you were driving me insane in there."

Your breathing hitched as he placed a hand on your thigh, gently stroking your skin up to the hem of your skirt. "Is this okay, baby girl?" His eyebrow raised in question, watching your expression shift into a flustered one. You keened at the pet name, feeling heat rush right to your cheeks. Slowly, you nodded your head in response, unable to trust your voice in a time like this.

"Um, I didn't know you thought about me this way Mr. Lee," you stifled out while uncomfortably shifting around on his lap. Minho caught his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a low groan before shifting his body as well, feeling his member harden as he leaned further back into his chair.

"Call me Minho," he smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek and to your hair, sweeping it over your shoulder.

"O-Okay," you stammered, growing flustered from his sweet yet sensual actions.

"Do you think about me this way, baby girl?" He said smugly, almost as if he knew the response you would be giving him in return.

"Yes, Minho," you unknowingly admitted. The words felt foreign coming out of your mouth, it felt odd calling your boss by his first name. But in some weird way, you liked knowing that he felt more turned on by you compared to the other female coworkers that were desperate for his attention.

"What do you think about, hmm?" Minho hummed, a short smirk fixed on his face. Your eyes widened in embarrassment, choking back a whimper as his hand brushed up past the hem of your skirt. Biting your lip in an attempt to control your breath, his hand wandered higher, pushing your skirt further up to expose your panties.

His long fingers grazed the fabric of the underwear over your core. Letting out a short gasp, you quickly brought your hand up to cover your mouth to muffle the sound. Dragging his fingers along the growing wetness on your panties, Minho kept his eyes locked on your expression.

"I, I think about how nice you always look in your dress clothes," you stuttered, "but I really wonder what you look like under them."

Ending the statement confidently, it seemed as if someone else had taken control of your tongue. Minho raised his eyebrows, smirk still plastered on his face from his prior question. As you felt the bulge in his pants begin to protrude under you, he shifted in his chair once again. He cleared his throat, loosening his tie in the process before speaking up.

"We should go somewhere more private." Minho suggested as he moved you off of his lap. "I don't want to be somewhere that anyone could find us," He finished before pacing towards the hall outside of his office. Following behind him you obliged, walking towards the door and into the corridor. Before you could get very far a faint voice sounded off down the hallway.

"Mr. Lee?" Minho's secretary called out from down the hall.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, grabbing your hand and swiftly pulling you into the nearest room to avoid Amy.

The copy room was dark. The small touchscreen on the copy machine and the light that peeked in through the small, rectangular window on the door barely lit the room enough for you to see what was right in front of you.

Breathing heavily, Minho pushed your back up against the door trying to remain out of sight as he followed suit beside you. The feeling of hiding from your coworker with your boss was thrilling, something that was easily so wrong, and definitely against HR policy, excited you.

"Mr. Lee? Are you still here?" Amy called from the hallway outside the copy room door. Minho's startled eyes wandered out the small window on the top of the door to see where his secretary could be.

"Fuck," he let out a deep breath before ducking away from the window.

Minho flipped his body so that he was facing you, placing his arms on either side of your head and his forehead resting on yours. He slowly brought his index finger to your lips, motioning you to stay quiet so you wouldn't be found.

Minho's warm, deep breaths met the skin of your cheeks, his long arm hovered over you, restricting you between his body and the wooden door behind you. The mere inches between your bodies left you craving for his touch yet again. You bit your lip to try and ease your breathing, looking up at Minho through your long eyelashes.

He placed his palm over your lips, trying to silence your deep breaths from the woman pacing around the corridor only a few feet away. His gaze was deep and sultry, it felt as though he was looking straight through you and directly to your thoughts. If only he knew the types of things going through your mind right now – such inappropriate things for an employee to think about their boss.

Tension grew as you stood there, body pressed against Minho’s as you waited for Amy to pass. Being in such close proximity to him was affecting you in ways you would've never imagined. Heat flooded to your core with each deep breath you took; Minho’s seductive stare only furthered your desire.

Without saying a word, Minho removed his hand from your mouth and replaced it with his own. The kiss caught you off guard, causing you to let out a small gasp in return. Minho smiled at your reaction, clearly satisfied with how he was taking you by surprise. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip asking for entrance, in which you easily obliged, slowly parting your lips and allowing him to kiss you even more passionately.

Minho’s knee found its place spreading your thighs apart slowly, teasing you as he rubbed it against your throbbing clit in the process. With slight hesitation, he quickly peeked his head up to the window one more time, making sure that the coast was clear before leaning back down to attach his lips to yours. His hands roamed your body down to the small of your back, pulling you in even closer to him.

Pressing your breasts to his chest, you slid your hand between your two bodies. Your hand found its way down to the bulge in his pants, lightly groping it before earning a moan of approval from him. Instinctively he began to grind into your hand, becoming even needier for your touch.

Minho’s breathing became instantly jagged from the moment you first touched his growing member. Perspiration began to gather at the top of Minho's exposed forehead, the small strands of dark hair framing his face hastily became damp. Your callous touch accompanied with sweet kisses to his lips sent Minho into a state of hunger; his demeanor instantly changed, electrifying the mood of the room.

Minho’s fingertips dragged down your body and to the hem of your blouse, tugging on it slightly before seeking approval to remove it from your body. There’s not enough time to respond before you were fiddling with the tie around his neck, loosening it and slipping it over his head to have better access to the buttons that lined his shirt. Your hands moved swiftly trying to undo each one before Minho's hands reached for his belt, causing you to bring your hands back to your own body.

In an unspoken rhythm, you both discarded your bottoms, leaving Minho standing naked as you wore just your silky black bra. A low moan left his lips as his hand cupped your breast, massaging gently before slipping his thumb underneath the thin fabric to play with your nipple. His touch left goosebumps all over your body, taking the sensation of his calloused fingertips against such a sensitive area.

You threw your head back in pleasure giving Minho access to your neck. Hungrily, he attached his lips just above your collarbone, sucking light marks into your skin. His hands moved to your back, unlatching the clasp of your bra and removing it from your body. The stimulation from both his lips and his fingers left your core aching for more, leaving moisture to accumulate between your thighs.

Without a second to spare, Minho’s hand’s were roaming down your body, parting your legs and dragging his finger down your wet slit. You moaned in response, keening into his touch as sweat began to gather on your brow.

With one quick swipe against your clit you were jumping at the contact. “Minho,” you moaned, “need your fingers inside me.”

A stern look crossed his face, making his seductive expression even more dark and lustful than before. “You have to be quiet,” his voice carried a serious tone as he placed a finger to your lips, “we don’t want Amy coming to look for us again, do we?” His question lingered as he leaned in closer to you, whispering the words softly, before leaving with a small nip to your earlobe causing you to shudder.

“Jump,” Minho ordered, grabbing your ass with each hand as you followed his request, jumping as his strong arms secured themselves around you. Each of your legs rested on each side of his body, gripping him tightly so you wouldn't fall. Minho held his body tightly up against you, taking his time by teasing you and dragging his member along your wet slit ever so slowly.

His hard member slid into you carefully, allowing you time to adjust to his size before pushing himself all the way in. You threw your head back against the wall in pleasure, becoming accustomed to the feeling of his hard shaft stretching out your walls. Slowly, Minho began pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. He was careful not to make too much noise, giving you slow and shallow thrusts before working his way to a faster pace.

He soon attached his lips to yours, moaning into the kiss as you basked in the taste of fruity residue left from the punch he was sipping on earlier. The room was becoming hot and stuffy, the window above you becoming cloudy as your bodies perspired. His movements were fluid and intentional, rocking you against the door as he held you tightly in his grip.

"Hold on," Minho whispered, pulling you off of the wall and walking towards the back of the room. His muscular arms held your body tightly against his, making sure no space was left between you.

Minho pulled out slowly, the sensation of your aching pussy berating your thoughts as he and let go of your legs. Your shaky legs were left to steady themselves on the ground, stumbling to hold onto Minho’s firm chest for support.. Grabbing you by your waist, he quickly turned your body to face the copy machine. In one swift motion you watched him lift open up the top of the machine, letting the beam of light underneath the glass panel illuminate your naked figure. His bare chest was placed flush against your back, standing so close that you could feel his racing heartbeat.

"Bend over," Minho ordered as his hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you to push your chest closer to the copy machine. Following his orders, you pressed your body against the machine, shivering from the cold sensation of the glass panel brushing against your sensitive nipples.

Minho grabbed onto your ass, squeezing it gently as he guided himself back into you. You let out a quiet whine, wrapping your fingers onto the sides of the copy machine to try and stabilize yourself. He returned back to a steady pace, rocking into you with ease while his firm hands caressed your back.

"Fuck Y/N," Minho moaned, "you're taking me so well."

His hand grabbed at your hair harshly, making a makeshift ponytail with his fist, as he pulled your head up. Arching your back, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan in reaction to the new depths Minho was reaching in your dripping core.

"I wanna hear you," Minho grunted between thrusts, his strokes becoming faster and harder. Incapable of using your words, you let out another whine squeezing your eyes shut completely, focused on the sensation of his thick member filling you up and the feeling of his hips hitting your ass with each plunge.

"I'm close," your voice was whiny and weak. Minho picked up his pace, snapping his hips harder into you as one hand left its position on your hip. The loss of contact made you whine, but his hand soon found its place between your legs. His fingers lightly brushed against your swollen clit, the sensation making you see stars. Legs beginning to shake, your grip on the copy machine became firmer, needing to hold onto something in order to steady yourself. The added pleasure from his fingers sent you spiraling, choking you up and causing your eyes to water in bliss.

"Come for me Y/N, I wanna feel you cum all over my cock," he grunted, his voice low and sensual. Moving his hand faster, your clit was rolled between his fingertips. Your orgasm was just out of reach. The satisfaction was just out of reach. But Minho’s tender touch sent you over the edge, relying on the copy machine to hold his unstable body up.

"Minho," you mustered out, riding out your high, pussy throbbing around his dick. He hummed in response, too focused on chasing his own high to form any audible words. The low grunts leaving Minho’s lips became more and more frequent as his thrusts slowed, growing sloppier and careless. But his hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you still as he let out a string of profanities before collapsing onto your back.

Minho rested his head between your shoulder blades, chest heaving as he regained his composure before pulling out of you. Slowly, he stood up, taking a deep breath and admiring your exhausted figure before you followed behind him.

"Wow," was the only word that you could manage, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand as you turned to face him. Minho chuckled in response, smiling gingerly as he picked up your clothes, handing them back to you so that you could get dressed.

After pulling your top over your head your eyes did a quick scan around the room, confirming that you weren't leaving anything behind. If someone were to find an undergarment in here, it would be the talk of the office for at least a week. In the corner of your eye, you spotted a sheet of paper resting on the tray of the copy machine. Raising an eyebrow, you paced back over to the machine and lifted up the sheet.

"Oh. My. God."

You were frozen in place, eyes wide with shock as you look at the image before you. Minho soon whipped his body around, finishing off the buckle of his belt before wandering over to the copy machine.

"I'm so keeping that," Minho said, looking over your shoulder at the picture of your bare breasts printed on the paper gripped harshly in your hands. A smug smirk was plastered on his face as he continued to admire the crude photograph.

"Minho, do you know how this happened?" Your voice was filled with concern, turning your head to face him, sure he was up to something. His eyes were glued on the graphic photo you held in your hands, too zoned out to hear you speak.

"Minho," you repeated more firmly this time, finally gaining his attention back to you from the image, "did you do this?"

A small grin formed on his face, one side of his mouth lifted while he raised his eyebrows. He looked smug...too smug.

"Can't have anyone finding this, now can we?" He chuckled, taking this paper in his own hands and taking one last glance before ripping it into small pieces before tossing the pieces into the recycling bin and extending a hand to you. "I say we go celebrate the occasion with a drink, you in?" Taking his hand in yours, you nodded your head in agreement, following Minho out of the copy room.

"How does a some more punch sound? George brought an extra bottle of juice that I can snag and I’ve got a bottle of vodka at my place with our names on it." Minho spoke, earning a smile from you before walking out the office doors.

Suddenly you feel the mattress shift beside you, pulling you out of your daydream. Minho rolls over to face your direction with his eyes still closed, his mouth slowly opening before taking a deep breath.

"Good morning," he speaks, eyes fluttering open and taking in your disheveled appearance.

"Morning," you manage to mutter out, quickly breaking eye contact, unable to face him from the pure embarrassment filling your system.

"Last night was fun, huh?" He asks, the cheerfulness barely peeking through the groggy tone of his voice. "Last night?" You know exactly what he was talking about, but hope he’s referring to anything except what happened in the copy room.

"Yeah, we came back here to have a drink after we–"

"Oh okay yep! I remember. No need to go into any more details!" You cut him off before he can continue any further, covering your eyes to shield you from his gaze. The flesh on your cheeks are scorching hot with embarrassment.

As you go to stand up from the bed, hoping to quickly gather your things and rush out the door before Minho could mention anything else, his hand reaches for yours. He pulls you in closer to him until your face is near enough to touch; grazing the side of your warm cheeks before speaking again. You lower your head in embarrassment, unsure of what Minho is about to say.

"I really enjoyed our time together last night, I wouldn’t mind having you over again." He brushes the stray hairs away from falling into your eyes, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze afterward. Heart fluttering in response, you catch your lip between your teeth in an attempt to hide the large smile that’s threatening to peek through.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Minho stands up, reaching into the pocket of the pants he wore last night and pulling out a small folded up piece of paper.

"I believe this belongs to you," he curls up the ends of his mouth, biting back a smile while handing it to you. Confused, you unfold the paper revealing a picture of your very own breasts. As if the situation could not get any more embarrassing, Minho stares down at the paper in your hands, admiring your bare chest plastered in black and white, letting out a small chuckle.

As mortified as you are, you figure that the natural instinct to never talk to this man again would not work, seeing that Minho is your boss. Taking a deep breath, you try to find any sort of confidence that could still be left inside you. You look back up at him, cocking your head slightly to the side before reaching your arm out and handing him back the photo.

"Keep it, think of it as a Halloween gift." You say shooting him a smirk, internally crossing your fingers hoping for a good reaction. Minho snickers, taking the paper from your hand and looking at it one last time before folding it back up and holding it tightly in his palm.

"I'll keep it somewhere safe," He gives you a wink and shoves the paper deep into the pocket of his pajama pants.

"Happy Halloween, Minho."

506 notes · View notes

elizabeethan · 3 years ago

Text

Weather the Storm

An Overboard Addition

For @the-darkdragonfly because it’s her birthday!!!!!!!

What started as a fluffy little addition to Overboard, one of my more popular fics that Kay loves, became something… angsty as heck. But not to worry, there’s more where this came from.

There are brief mentions of miscarriage in this piece. Please take care of yourself and remember you’re always welcome to message me with questions.

Thank you endlessly to @donteattheappleshook for beta-ing this

Rated E

~8600 words

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

~~~~

Emma pulls the cable knit sweater over her head and smoothes it over her hips, noting the way it falls perfectly just above her ass in her tight jeans and smirking at her reflection in the mirror. Killian loves when she wears his clothes, and she can’t wait to drive him mad in front of his crew for the entire day.

“ Bloody hell ,” he breathes as he walks into their bedroom, stopping short with his hand on the door handle. She smirks again, turning to face him with a smile.

“Like my outfit?”

“You stole my sweater,” he accuses, although she can see the way the corner of his lips tick up with a small smile he tries to fight off.

“The cream color matches so well with these black jeans. Don’t you think?”

Stepping towards her, he shakes his head as he eyes her up and down. “I must say, I agree.”

“Hmm,” she hums with false pensivity, pouting her lip. “You don’t look very happy.”

Wrapping his hands over her waist, he pulls her close to himself until his hips press against hers and she can feel that he is, in fact, quite happy. “Perhaps that’s because my beautiful wife is trying to make me late for work.”

She giggles as their lips collide, his hands sliding up the back of her sweater so that she can feel the cold metal of his new wedding band chilling her skin. Her giggling subsides when his tongue slides against her, the sweet, bitter taste of his morning coffee waking her senses and making her fingers tighten around the hair at the nape of his neck.

She grinds her hips against his hardening length, causing him to groan as his grip on her tightens, bringing her even closer to him and making her want to shed the cozy sweater she borrowed and toss him onto the bed they share. “Killian,” she breathes into his mouth desperately, scratching her fingers down into the black and silver hair on his chest.

He bites on her bottom lip before pulling away, effectively making her head spin at the loss of contact between them. “You can’t trick me again, temptress. It’s time to leave.”

“ Trick you?! When have I ever tricked you?”

Pointing a finger at her, he eyes her down suspiciously and says, “A lady as tantalizing and mysterious as you must certainly be some manner of siren, or vixen, or--”

She cuts him off with a kiss, pulling at the collar of his sweater with her greedy fingers. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a bloody mermaid. I love you. ”

She feels him sigh, his breath washing over her face in a soothing warmth, and he nods. “Aye. I suppose I sometimes just can’t wrap my head around how lucky I am to be married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

With another hum, she closes her eyes and presses a final, soft kiss to his lips. “Well, get used to it, buddy. You’re never getting rid of me.”

“Good.”

“Now, hurry up. You’ve made us late.”

~~~~

“Good morning, wife,” Will greets cheerfully, dropping a chaste kiss to Emma’s cheek and shooting Killian a smirk and waggling brows. “I sure am excited to have you on board with us.”

“Me too,” Emma smiles. “I think I’ll be your good luck charm. How many are we catching?”

“If we don’t catch three, you may not be invited back,” Robin jokes.

With a scoff and a roll to her eyes, she says, “Please. As if you have any say. My husband can’t say no to me.”

“Can’t blame him,” Will agrees.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Killian mumbles as he drops the bag they brought into his quarters. “There’d better be bait on this deck.”

“Aye, Captain. Caught it meself this morning while you and the wife were--“

Killian laughs when he realizes what’s happened; when he sees the small heron flopping across the deck upon Emma throwing it at Will, successfully shutting him up.

The sun shines brightly against her skin, causing her cheeks to pink as she lounges on the bow, giving him a distracting view as he tries to navigate through the sea of weekend fishermen to his favorite secluded spot. Sure, she’s still fully dressed, but something about seeing her in his sweater makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and his jeans feel tight.

“No funny business while we’re on board, aye Captain?”

Killian grumbles inaudibly in Will’s direction, rolling his eyes, and demands, “All the lines had best be out, Scarlet.”

“Aye, all but the ones on the bow. Don’t want to disturb the beauty.”

“Stop looking at my bloody wife,” he grumbles, earning a smirk from his deckhand.

He meets her later, when Will and Robin have completed their tasks and find themselves lounging on the deck waiting for a bite. His heart flutters when he watches her turn towards him, a beaming smile decorating her face and the color of her eyes catching the sun. He smiles back, crawling across the small, slightly slippery expanse of the deck. “You look nice and warm.”

“You look nice.”

He chuckles softly at her blatant flirting as he moves to lie beside her on the deck. “May I join you?”

“Please do.”

She’s quick to move beside him, the towel she brought to lounge on scrunching between them as she curls up to his side. She smells of sea and sunscreen and something that’s so painfully her that his arms move involuntarily to wrap around her, his lips pressing a firm and longing kiss to her temple. “I’m glad you came,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible to even himself over the sound of the crashing waves.

“Me too,” she agrees. “It’s nice. Your job doesn’t seem too hard.”

“Oh, aye?” he laughs, rolling her so that she’s on her back beneath him, cognizant not to throw them overboard. He knows she’s joking; she knows how difficult and dangerous his work can be. But her playfulness is impossible to ignore. “About as easy as being the Sheriff, I’m sure.”

She giggles under the weight of him, her grin beaming in the sun until he consumes it with his own lips. He slides his tongue along her bottom lip, suddenly taken by the comfort that being with her brings him. The gentle touch of her wandering hands sliding up his back, pushing his sweater away, sends a shiver down his spine. The cold weight of the white gold rings on her finger reminds him of how far they’ve come. She’s his wife .

“You know,” she growls against his mouth, “The waves will probably have a very interesting effect when we do it later.”

He bites down on her bottom lip, just a bit harder than he means to and drawing from her a whine and giggle all at once. “And what have you done to deserve that?”

“I’m your good luck charm,” she says confidently against the shell of his ear, one hand sliding from his rear to the front of his trousers and squeezing until he breathlessly ruts against her palm. He’s always awestruck by her, but the way she can make him behave like this despite knowing that his mates are just on the other deck makes him feel like a teenager again. “You’re gonna catch big today, baby. I can feel it.”

“Aye, you’ll feel it alright.”

Her laughter rings through his ears again, but the blissful sound is interrupted by the raucous shouts of his mates announcing the small blips on their radar. They’re marking fish, several tuna swimming beneath his boat, and it kills him to pull away from her in favor of checking the bait and praying for a hookup.

“We’re on!” Will screams excitedly, and he can hear the scream of the reel being pulled out by a sea monster.

Emma scurries from beneath him, hastily hurrying towards the starboard side so that she can head back towards the deck. She’s always excited to see him work, to see what goes into his livelihood, and she’s made him promise to let her reel at least once.

Will jumps on the reel while Robin pulls in the others, careful not to allow the lines to tangle, and Emma stands beside the wheel while Killian steers. He needs to stay on top of the fish so that they don’t run out of line, he explains, and she watches his careful and diligent movements, his sweater dampened by the ocean spray and clinging to the muscles in his shoulders. She can’t help but bite her lip.

He asks her to take the wheel and she’s nervous, worried that her screwup could mean their loss. But he directs her perfectly, telling her when to put the boat into neutral and when to reverse, where to steer and when. Eventually, Robin shouts that he can see the fish, and her eyes bug out of her head at the sheer size of it. She’s seen plenty of tuna at the docks, many of them several feet longer than she is tall, but to see one in the water is stunning.

Killian takes the harpoon in his grip, lining it up and setting his jaw tightly in concentration. His brows draw close together, his empty arm lifting in front of him so that he can visualize the course to his target, and in a move that’s almost too quick to comprehend, he draws his chest and shoulder back and launches the harpoon into the water, grunting deeply as he strikes.

Her cheeks go red.

Her husband is so damn hot.

They work together to hoist the beast onto the deck, it’s sheer size and weight overpowering and breathtaking. They measure its length, and Robin calls out that the fish is 112 inches, a record for the Jolly Roger .

“You are lucky,” Killian laughs, pointing at her playfully as he stands. He bounds towards her, scooping her up and spinning her carefully as Will and Robin groan quietly. She giggles as he kisses her everywhere, his lips landing on her cheeks, her nose, her lips… she can’t get enough of the love he has for her.

They catch one more fish while she’s sunbathing, their joyous, celebratory shouting music to her ears as she listens to the sounds of her husband’s success. Neither of them have very conventional jobs, but she couldn’t be prouder of him, of them , for making a life together that they can both take pride in.

He worried when she took the job as sheriff, the last one being killed in the line of duty not settling his nerves one bit. It was the fuel for one of their first fights as a couple, a few months before their intimate beach wedding. And although the argument was difficult, she never once doubted that they would work through it.

They’ve worked through plenty of things, hardly any of them actual disagreements. The one thing she worried may have caused turmoil between them turned out to be nothing at all. Her shy confession that she’s never desired to have children was met with unconditional understanding and kindness, his words nearly drawing tears to her eyes each time she thinks back on them.

“ I planned on spending the remainder of my life alone. I never really had an opinion either way. I’ll be the happiest man alive if I just get to spend the rest of my days with you.”

They married mere months later, her parents and brother on her side and his mates on his. She would’ve been happy enough to have it just be them and them alone, but he reminded her of what being there would mean for her family. Calling them that still sits strangely with her to this day, but ever since she and her father opened up to one another, her relationship with her parents has been much improved.

All she ever wanted was love and understanding. She has that, and so much more, with her husband, and there’s really nothing more she could ask for.

~~~~

The sun’s nearly set by the time they make it to the docks, Emma’s father waiting for them and giving a friendly wave when he sees them approaching. Her arms slink around his middle while he steers them towards the dock, head resting on the sore space between his shoulder blades. She pushes a firm kiss there, then another, her fingers clinging to his sweater as he shuts off the engine.

He lets out a soft, gentle chuckle when she kisses his neck just below his ear, knowing she must be on her toes and just barely able to reach. She isn’t especially short, not much shorter than he is, but the way he can envelope her in his arms sends happy warmth through his veins. She kisses the space between his shoulder blades and scratches against his stomach as he navigates next to the dock and waits for Will to tie them off.

“Got two big ones for ya, Dave!” Will shouts when they arrive, and Emma kisses his back once more before pulling away to greet her father. Standing at the wheel, they aren't in David’s direct line of sight, and for that, Killian’s grateful. He can’t ever get enough of his wife’s touch, but he also doesn’t love the idea of her father watching them. “112 incher! Gotta be a thousand pounder!”

“Let’s see,” he returns as Emma steps onto the dock, taking her father’s hand for support.

“Hey,” she says as she leans in for a hug. It’s taken her a while, but she’s known her parents for over a year now, and she’s finally starting to become more comfortable with them. It was difficult at first, knowing that she was given up and replaced by her younger brother a few years later. But she and her parents have had a series of eye-opening conversations, and she’s found herself more and more willing to accept the love that they want to give her with each passing day.

She’s grown increasingly closer to her father over the last few months, finding that his unconditional acceptance of her warms her heart in ways that she never expected. Truthfully, despite being raised by a mother who loved her endlessly, having her father in her life changed everything. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Good day?” he asks when he releases her.

“Very good. I’m good luck.”

“Of course you are,” he chuckles, turning on the crane so that they can lift the massive fish out of the boat. Once it’s dressed, it weighs in at just over 800 pounds, Will and Robin shouting and high fiving each other and Killian gently resting his chin on her shoulder from behind to press a kiss to her cheek in quiet celebration. She doesn’t miss his grin, the one that carves deep lines into his cheeks and the sides of his eyes, and all she wants to do is turn around and hold him tight, never content to let him go.

They’re offered a hefty price tag for their catch, the smaller of the two weighing almost 500 pounds, and each of them celebrate with more high fives and hugs. Once the boat is cleaned, Killian sends Robin and Will home early for their hard work. She finds her place behind him again as he drives the boat through the harbor, navigating expertly through other boats and docks until he finds his place at the dock just outside of the home they share.

“We have to go to dinner tonight,” she remarks when the engine stops and a calm silence settles over them both. “My mom is cooking.”

“Aye, love,” he agrees softly, turning to face her and placing both hands on her hips. She lets her fingers trail along his jaw, combing gently through the hair spread across his face that’s getting too long to be considered stubble.

“I like this,” she whispers.

“You don’t think it makes me look like an old man? I haven't shaved in days.”

With a coy smile, she says, “I didn't say it doesn't make you look like an old man, I just happen to like my silver fox of a husband.”

He hums doubtfully, rolling his eyes and giving her a shy smirk that makes it impossible for her to stop herself from pressing onto her toes and kissing him. His beard scratches against her chin when they deepen it simultaneously, the burn delicious and enough for her to crave his mouth everywhere , but they don’t have time. He has to finish putting the boat away and she has to head to her parent’s house to help with dinner. The knowledge that the honeymoon is truly over sets in, and she pouts when they break apart.

“I love you,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to hers and his breath washing over tingling lips.

He can never fail to make her heart race in her chest, beating so forcefully against her ribs that she’s relying on the strength of his arms to hold her up. “I love you, too,” she whispers back, letting her eyes flutter shut against the wind whipping against their hair and in response to the sudden and palpable tension between them. It’s begging to be broken, each of them craving the touch of the other, needing to express their love for each other however they can, but there’s no time. “How long will it take you to clean up here?”

“No more than an hour.”

“We don’t have to stay at my parents’ long,” she murmurs, her lips nearly touching his with each word. All she wants is to be with him. It isn’t just a sexaul desire that she has for him; she needs to be with him. She needs to be touching him. She can’t stand to be apart from him, or to sit in a room with him and not be touching him.

“It’s alright, my love,” he whispers. “Being with your family is important. Despite how desperately I crave you, I'm willing to wait.”

“You might be, but I'm certainly not.”

He laughs loudly, the sound of his glee cutting through the noisy waves and making her heart soar and her grin grow painfully. “I’ll meet you there. I won’t be long; I promise to make quick work of the old girl.”

She nods, kissing him chastely despite her desires and humming in agreement. “As long as you promise not to make quick work of your decidedly much younger girl.”

“You make me sound like a predator,” he laughs.

“No, I told you: you’re my sexy silver fox husband and I'm your young, gorgeous trophy wife.”

“Of course, my love. Whatever you say.”

She lets out a giggle, a sound that would have been so unlike her a year ago, kisses him once more, and regretfully pulls away from him. “I love you,” she says again. “I’ll see you in an hour. I’ll be the one looking devastatingly beautiful.”

“As usual.”

~~~~

“Your dad called,” Mary Margaret announced once they had gotten settled, each of them standing side by side preparing dinner. Emma has been put on chopping duty, and she’s decidedly avoiding the onions. “He said Killian made out very well today. That’s great.”

“Yeah, they did really well. Two fish were over a thousand pounds.”

“Wow,” she smiles, stirring the pasta after pouring it into the boiling water. “That’s impressive. You guys will have a nice nest egg soon enough.”

Emma purses her lips as she finishes chopping a carrot, nodding slowly and unsurely. “I guess. I mean, we both have savings.”

“Oh, I know,” her mother says, taking the chopped carrot and tossing it into a skillet as Emma starts working on the cursed onion. “I meant more for… extra expenses,” she clarifies unhelpfully, giving Emma a presumptuous smile.

She stays quiet for a few moments, trying to consider her mother’s words but letting confusion take over as she tosses the onion into the skillet and Mary Margaret adds olive oil. Moving to the sink to wash her hands, she says, “I mean, we’re happy at the cottage. Maybe Killian would want a new boat soon.”

With a soft giggle as she tosses the vegetables together, Marg Margaret adds a can of tomatoes, causing a raucous sizzle. “Honey, I was referring to… I mean… maybe a baby is in our future? I can’t wait to be a grandma!”

Emma chokes on her own breath, reaching for her glass of wine and taking a generous swig. “Well, grandma, we’ll have to ask Leo to hurry up.”

“Leo,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s too young. You, on the other hand, are happily married and at prime child bearing age.”

“Mom…” Emma starts, laughing awkwardly. “I’m not having kids.”

The horror with which she drops her spatula into the skillet, as if what Emma just said is the most unbelievable piece of information she’s ever heard, sends a wave of anger through her veins. The complete shock in her mother’s face at her desire not to bring a child into this world makes Emma’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

Mary Margaret had a baby and gave her away. How could she expect her daughter, the very one who was left abandoned for years, to have a child herself?

Emma’s never wanted kids. She’s always felt this way, like if she had a baby and something happened to her, they would grow up exactly like she did. How could she bring a baby into the world and risk putting them through what she went through?

How could her own mother not understand that?

“You’re not?”

“No,” she answers definitively, the set of her jaw almost painful.

“Oh,” she says with a soft nod. She adds beef to her bolognese in silence, a thick tension settling in the room.

The quiet is awkward, and the longer it lasts, the angrier Emma feels. It’s because she knows what Mary Margaret is thinking. She knows that she’s hurt by Emma’s announcement that she doesn’t plan on having children with her husband. She’s having trouble believing it; she’s struggling to see why Emma wouldn’t want to experience the joys of motherhood.

It’s annoying, and it’s making Emma angry, but nothing compares to the rage that waves through her when Mary Margaret speaks again.

“Does Killian know?”

Her eyes bug out of her head, the glass she was holding dropping onto the countertop too loudly. “ What?”

“I just… I wondered if he agreed…”

“We’re married, ” she answers immediately. Her voice is low, almost a growl in her throat as she tries to stay calm.

“I know, I just…”

“You just thought that maybe I tricked him into marrying me? Maybe I didn’t tell him my foolish idea to stay childless until after we’d tied the knot? You thought that my desire to spend the rest of my life with my husband and with the freedom of not having kids comes second to a man wanting an heir?”

“ Emma, I never--”

“You didn’t have to! You didn’t have to say a thing. Did you really think we wouldn’t discuss something like this before we even got engaged?”

With a sigh, she says, “Sweetheart, of course. I misspoke. I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”

“Surprised?” she asks, trying to calm her voice.

“I mean… I just figured you two would want that. It seems like a natural next step.” Emma’s quiet for a moment, making herself even out her breath and preparing to respond calmly before her mother speaks again. “And I’ve seen how happy Killian seems to be around little Alexandra.”

She feels her heart rate picking up again, and she forces herself to take a moment, having a sip of wine before responding. “So, you’re saying he couldn’t possibly be happy unless I pop out a few kids?”

“Oh, honey… that’s not--”

Her answer is too slow. She can’t defend herself immediately or easily, and that’s all Emma needed to know.

“Okay, I get it,” she says quietly just as David opens the door followed closely by Leo.

“Everything okay?” her father asks

“Great,” she grumbles sarcastically. “Enjoy dinner.”

“Emma!”

She doesn’t turn back, grabbing her wallet and moving past her brother without so much as a word, ignoring her mother’s pleas for her to stay with them. With her family. She can’t.

~~~~

It had only been forty minutes by the time he finished, proud of himself for making such quick work of cleaning his vessel. The image of his stunning wife sitting across from him at the dinner table, surrounded by the family she never thought she’d have, was enough motivation for him to hurry up and meet her.

At least, he thought that was his plan, until he hears angry footsteps stalking against his dock and he knows there’s no other person they can belong to other than his fiery wife. She has a penchant for heated anger, and the sounds she’s making are unmistakable. He only pities whomever put her in such a state, and prays that it wasn’t him.

She reaches the edge of the dock, hands in fists on her hips and jaw set tensely as she stares down at him. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asks, hearing her barely-audible growl in response.

She stalks onto the boat, jumping the few feet onto the deck, and approaches him quickly. Before he knows what hits him, her lips are on his, tackling him against the wheel of the boat and making him thankful that the engine is off.

Her fingers find the hem of his sweater, easily tugging it over his head and exposing his bare arms to the chilly harbor air. He lets out a surprised grunt when her hands land on his stomach under his shirt, scratching through the smattering of hair lower and lower until she grasps his belt and pulls his hips against hers. “Love,” he grumbles against her mouth, and as he opens his lips to speak, her tongue finds his.

She deftly undoes his buckle, humming into his mouth and pushing him until his back is against the exterior wall of the cabin, her hands moving from his belt up to his chest beneath his shirt. A groan escapes her throat through their tangled lips as she lets her palms explore, moving from his chest around to his back and sliding down until she can tug his shirt off, too. He shivers, partially against the cold but mostly in response to her.

“Emma,” he tries again as she drops lower, her tongue swirling against his nipple as her fingers undo the button and zipper of his jeans. “Baby--”

She bites him, making him hiss and surely leaving a mark. “I need you,” she says once she’s looking up at him, her eyes dark and desperate. “Now.”

“Bloody hell,” he breathes as she drops to her knees, lifting her own shirt off and exposing her hardened nipples to the bite of the evening air. She pulls his jeans down effortlessly, his cock springing to attention responsively despite her surprise attack, and he feels his pulse quickening as she bites her lip at the sight of him.

“Fuck,” she says before licking a long strip up to the tip, sucking it into the heat of her mouth. He shudders, his hands finding her hair and tangling into it, trying hard not to take control. She whimpers when he hits the back of her throat, her eyes meeting his in the dim moonlight.

His head falls back against the window when he sees her stirring on her knees, tucking a hand into her leggings and swirling it over her clit. He’s suddenly consumed with a need for her, a need to taste her, to hear her sing for him. He pulls on her hair and she moans around him, making him pant and tug once more before she releases him with a smirk on her swollen lips. “What is it?” she asks, her voice rough in her throat.

Breathless, he shakes his head minutely, intent to find out what’s gotten into her eventually, but also just as intent to be the thing that’s gotten into her and suddenly not feeling very patient about it. He releases his grip on her hair and moves his palms to her cheeks, brushing them with his thumbs before encouraging her to stand again. “Off with these,” he insists in a growl, pulling on the elastic waistband of her leggings as she stands and letting it snap against the small of her back. She yelps playfully, finally smiling and letting out the soft giggle that he always craves, pushing her obvious anger to the side for a moment.

“Aye aye, Captain,” she murmurs, catching his lips with hers again and swirling her tongue against his just as she had done against the tip of his cock. It makes a shiver run up his spine.

He hums, the sound rumbling through his chest, and says, “Ah, so it’s the Captain you want?” as his fingers find her sopping core.

“I need you,” she returns desperately. Her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as he spins her, pushing her back against the wall he was leaning on and dropping quickly to his knees before her. He couldn’t even begin to consider not giving in to her. He needs her more than he needs to breathe, ready to drop anything at a moment's notice to pleasure her if only to be rewarded with the sinful, intoxicating sound of her moaning his name.

Her fingers cling to his hair, her hips bucking forward towards him as soon as his mouth latches onto her swollen clit, and he says exactly what he knows will make her squirm. Pushing her hips back, he chastises, “Behave, love.”

He’s met with a breathless, desperate whimper, Emma dropping her head back against the window behind her as he swirls his tongue over her. Her hips continue to dance over his mouth as if it’s impossible for her to remain still, and she pulls his hair particularly hard when he hums against her sensitive flesh. “Don’t stop,” she begs, one hand in his hair and the other bracing herself against the wheel tower. When he curls a finger into her, dragging it out against her tight walls and then thrusting back in, she lets out a shout and bucks her hips again.

He bites the flesh of her inner thigh as punishment and moves his mouth back to her core before mumbling, “Be good for me, that’s it,” and earning another moan and shudder. He feels her tightening around his finger and takes it as a cue to add another, making her cry out his name.

With a few more thrusts and strokes of his tongue, he feels her tense, her legs quivering under her own weight as she lets out a high pitched, nearly silent scream, her brows woven tightly together and her jaw dropped. She’s so stunning like this, his wife, and he has to slow his ministrations over her clit so that he can get a good look at her falling apart above him.

There’s nowhere he’d rather be.

“There’s a good girl,” he says into her sensitive flesh, earning a full-body shiver and another soft, needy hum. “Alright?”

Her chest is heaving, her breasts glowing in the moonlight under a sheen of sweat, and she shakes her head. “I need you,” she says again, dragging him up to her and falling back against the wall when he stands against her. His lips find hers easily when she drags him to her, and she hums against his mouth as her tongue explores against his.

“You’re very needy,” he agrees into her mouth, earning a nod. “And I perish the thought of not delivering.”

“Good,” she mumbles. The gasp that escapes her lips when he picks her up doesn’t stop her from locking her ankles around his hips. She groans when he slides into her, and it feels like coming home. They fit so flawlessly together, he can’t help but to groan as well and drop his head to the window she’s pressed against, his lips pressing to the top of her shoulder. “ Fuck. Don’t stop.”

This is never an easy position to be in, especially with his age and with the waves of the harbor making him unsteady on his feet. Needing to support the weight of the both of them is difficult, but the way she clenched around him makes it infinitely worth it. He’s still rather fit for his age, exercising daily through his job, and he’s always glad for it when he can elicit these sounds from his wife.

She claws at his back desperately, begging to get closer to him despite it being impossible. With each thrust, she bites onto his shoulder or sucks on the lobe of his ear or kisses his neck, a moan that must be too loud meeting each drive of his hips. He pivots his hips just slightly so that he’s certain he’s supporting her weight, then moves one hand from the back of her thigh and presses his fingers to where he knows she needs him. The action earns another clench of her muscles and a cry of pleasure, his name ringing in his ear as she calls for him and tells him she’s close.

“Harder,” she begs, and it’s a clear indication that something’s happened to upset her. She doesn’t want it like this unless she’s bothered by something. Unless she’s hurt by something. He obliges, content to let her use him for the comfort that she needs as he drives into her harder, making the boat rock and creak against the dock. He’s only glad that it’s his own private property, lest the whole town hear them.

“Killian, I’m--” her words catch in her throat as the circles he draws quicken.

“Come on, angel, come for me. I want to feel you come on my cock,” he says into her ear, knowing that his words and the whispering breath on her skin will bring her to the edge.

She bites his shoulder, most definitely leaving a mark but successfully stifling her cry as she shudders around him. He feels her muscles tensing with her orgasm and he continues his ministrations on her clit for as long as he can, reveling in the jerking movements that her release is eliciting before he can’t hold on any longer. He spills into her, cursing as he does, at the feeling of her taking everything he has to offer and clinging to him as if seeking more.

They stay still for a while, longer than he can keep track of, until his legs begin to shake under the weight of the both of them and he has to release her thigh from his grip. She drops down to the deck but doesn’t let him go, continuing to hug him close to her and nestling her head into the crook of his neck. He lifts his hand to cradle her gently against him.

“I love you,” he reminds her pointlessly. She already knows.

She hums, nodding against his neck and pressing a soft kiss there, one that drastically contrasted the way she was touching him moments ago. “Sorry for jumping you. I love you, too.”

“Aye,” he laughs, scratching his fingers over her scalp in the way he knows she loves. He feels her shudder against him, either because of the sensation or because of the evening breeze blowing over her bare skin. “Is that something you’re ready to talk about?”

He feels her shaking her head immediately, before he even finishes his question, and he fights off the urge to sigh, choosing instead to hold her closer to himself and press a kiss to the top of her head. He knows if he waits long enough, she’ll sigh and give in, but at this second, she isn’t ready to talk. He’ll wait for her.

After a few moments of calming silence, the only sound between them the gentle waves lapping against the boat and the wind swirling around them, she lets out a frustrated groan and lifts her head. She stares into his eyes, the emerald jewels difficult to read. “You’re too emotionally mature for me,” she finally says as she walks into the cabin in search of a tissue.

He laughs lightly, following her closely, and responds, “You know the deal, my love. You’re only allowed to fuck me through your feelings if we talk about them afterwards.”

Rolling her eyes, she turns towards him, shamelessly exposing her nude form to him and making him wonder how it’s even possible for a man his age to shorten his refractory time. “ Way too mature.”

“Come,” he requests, holding out his hand to her once they’re cleaned up.

“I just did, thank you very much,” she responds with a smirk, one that tells him that she’s fighting tooth and nail against any conversation remotely related to her feelings.

“Twice, if I recall.” He grabs a knit blanket from the small tattered couch in the cabin and takes her hand, guiding her outside and towards the starboard side of the boat. He climbs up and onto the bow, Emma following him closely until they’re lounging in each other’s arms and he’s able to wrap the thick blanket over them. He loves her confidence, her complete comfort with herself evidenced by her silent refusal to get dressed despite them being out in the open, and he’s happy to stay naked with her if only to feel her soft skin against his.

“I love you,” she finally whispers into the quiet settled between them. “A lot.”

He pulls her impossibly closer, every part of him touching every part of her, and responds, “I know you do, darling. I’ve never doubted that.”

“I just--” she sighs, dropping her head dramatically against his chest. The moonlight shines against her hair, making it appear even more platinum than usual. “I love you. I love our life together.”

“Angel,” he breathes, “I wouldn’t trade our life together for anything, you know that.”

“I need to tell you something,” she whispers against his skin. “Something about my past… when I was young.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Emma. I’ll never judge you, especially not for something that happened when you were young.”

She stays quiet for a moment longer, her fingers gently tracing patterns over his chest and through the black and silver hair peppering over his skin. She’s always had a fascination with his chest hair, never able to keep herself from touching it when it’s exposed to her. Aside from the comfort it brings her to comb through the soft, thick hair with her fingertips, it also serves as an effective distraction against her nausea at the thought of opening up to him.

It’s ridiculous, really. He’s her husband, for goodness sake. She’s never felt this comfortable around anyone in her entire life; not her parents, not the woman who raised her. He’s successfully broken down nearly every wall she put up, and she feels the guilt settling deep in her gut as she considers breaking down this one and letting him see her whole truth.

“Killian,” she whispers against the gentle sea breeze. “I’m… I’ve never wanted kids.”

She feels him breathe out softly and nod, and she wonders what he’s thinking. Is it relief? Is it regret?

“I know, my love,” he comforts. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know, I just… I never told you…”

“Emma, your reasonings are entirely understandable. I respect the decision you’ve made, and, as I've told you, I’m perfectly content to live out the rest of my days with you as my wife, with or without a child.”

“But would you be happier if we did have one?” she asks, suddenly needing to look him in the eyes as she presses up onto her elbows and stares. The moon glistens off of his deep irises, the darkness making them appear as though they’re the color of the ocean tonight. The way they shimmer makes her fall in love with him even more.

“What is this about?” he asks, his hand lifting to cradle her cheek, and she leans against his palm and presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. His answer isn’t an answer, not really, and it serves only to drag out her feelings of guilt and insecurity.

She sighs and closes her eyes, entirely unable to look at him when she finally admits the truth. “When I was 16, I had a boyfriend. He was a real piece of work… I think it was part of my teenage rebellion phase.” He laughs softly, brushing his thumb over her cheek and letting her continue without interruption. “He and I… I mean… he was my first. It sucked, every time, but… I got pregnant.”

She bites her lip and opens her eyes, and she’s met with unconditional understanding.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, easily able to read the emotion she feels as she opens up to him.

“I didn’t want it; I’ve never wanted kids. And when I got pregnant at sixteen by someone who was no good for me-- not to mention too old for me at the time-- I knew that I really didn’t want kids. And I planned on giving it up for adoption because I knew I couldn’t handle raising it.” She bites her lip again, sighing and lying back down onto his chest. “I never told anyone. I thought, maybe I could hide it,” she laughs. “I never told Ingrid or Neal. I just found out and waited a few weeks and hid how shitty I felt. I just kept hoping that it wasn’t happening to me; that it was a dream and I’d wake up soon. And then…”

She gulps, tugging on the blanket so that it’s tucked under her chin, needing to be covered and held together. He reads her again and pulls her closer to him, squeezing his arms around her back and providing her with comforting pressure. “It’s alright, my love,” he repeats in a whisper.

She doesn't even realize that the tears have started to fall until she feels a warm wetness on her cheek against his chest. With a sudden sniffle, one that catches her off guard, she says, “And then one day I woke up and… it was gone. It was like I wished it away and it worked. I don’t even know how far along I was because I never went to the doctor, but it was… It was gone.”

He sighs again, his hands running up and down along her spine to gently soothe her as she breaks, crying into his chest and whimpering at the loss of something she didn’t even want in the first place. “I wanted it gone and it… I did that. It’s my fault.”

She never wanted to have children. That fact hasn’t changed. But when she found herself pregnant and wished that she wasn’t, her wish came true. And she’s never stopped regretting it.

“Emma,” he whispers, “I'm so sorry.”

“I didn’t want it,” she says again. “I wanted it to go away and then…”

“That doesn’t make your loss any less painful, love. Even though you weren’t ready to have a child, you still suffered a loss. That was still something terribly difficult that you had to go through alone.”

She nods, because he’s right. It was impossible, and she’ll never forget the feelings of guilt and regret and complete failure. With another sniffle, she says, “and today my mom asked when we’re having kids, like it's something we should be doing, and I just…”

“It made you angry. And hurt? Misunderstood, perhaps?”

“Yes,” she breathes in relief. He’s always understood her, unlike anyone she’s ever known. “And she talked about how happy Alexandra makes you and it was like she thinks I'm hurting you by not wanting kids.”

“You’re not, Emma. I promise you, you can never hurt me.”

They’re quiet for another few moments, and she lets his gentle breathing and his soothing strokes up her back and the soft waves beneath them lull her into a sense of calm. Being with him never fails to bring her back down to earth, guiding her from her fear and anger and pain and into a place of love and consolation. She can weather any storm if he’s with her.

“I never… I never want to feel like that again. I always knew that I didn’t want children, but that experience really… I mean, it really solidified that for me.”

“I know what you mean, darling. I never had a specific desire to have children myself. I would have, if you’d wanted to, but it’s never been something that I’ve found myself needing.”

She nods and wipes a rogue tear away. “I sure am lucky,” she remarks, caught in a sense of disbelief at the fact that she gets to call herself his.

“Aye, about as lucky as I am.”

“I just can’t,” she whispers after a moment. “I never wanted to, and now I just… I can’t do it.”

“I know, angel. And you never have to feel that way again, I promise.”

“I can’t,” she repeats pleadingly, her arms tightening around his middle and her nose pushing impossibly further into his neck. She’s desperate to turn it off, the anguish that tortures her too great, and he’s desperate to help her. But there’s nothing he can do but hold her and let her cry in his arms until she’s spent, powerless to stop her pain. It kills him.

He whispers that he loves her into her hair, letting anger consume him for a moment as he considers her words and the fact that her terrible, too-old-for-her boyfriend did this to her. He wants to find the man and make him pay for the sobs wracking his wife. For taking advantage of her when she was just a child and making scars that still seem fresh a decade later. It’s unfair, and he feels his anger through the tips of his fingers as he tries to console her with gentle touches and soft words, unsure of what else he could possibly do.

He’s angry with her mother, too, for the things she said. The words that reopened an old wound when it could’ve stayed closed off in the deep pits of her mind. But he knows that the only way for her to heal is to feel, despite how difficult it clearly is for her.

It’s an experience that has haunted her for years, something she won’t easily move past and may never fully get over. He understands that, can empathize with her torment and guilt over her loss, and he only hopes that being here for her is enough.

When she calms, her breathing steady again and the tears no longer dampening his skin, he feels her let out a heaving sigh and press a kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice croaking after her sobs.

“Please never apologize,” he begs. All he wants is for her to be open with him, something he’s requested countless times. Now she has, and he can never express to her what it means that she trusts him. “Thank you for telling me.”

She nods into his chest and hugs him close to her. “Thanks for letting me blubber,” she answers sarcastically.

“Emma,” he starts. “You know you can blubber to me about anything.”

It earns him a soft giggle, the sound ricocheting off the water and the smooth surface of the boat and landing in the cockles of his heart, warming him from the inside out.

“I know. It’s just that… Well, I know this is nothing like your brother…”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “We can’t compare our losses or the pain they bring us. This was painful for you. You’re allowed to feel that no matter what anyone around you has gone through.”

She nods with a dejected sigh, obviously letting exhaustion overtake her after the long day that they’ve had. Between leaving before dawn, spending the day wrestling sea monsters, and the emotional and physical activity in which they’ve just partaken, he doesn’t blame her. He feels it too, although she would point out that she’s much younger and more energetic than he is.

“You missed dinner, my love,” he points out. “Why don’t we order in? Head home and have a shower?”

“A bath,” she says softly. It’s a brilliant idea; being on the water is certainly settling a chill in their bones.

“A bath, then,” he agrees.

She remains still for a minute more before shuffling over him, lifting onto her elbows and showing him her face. She looks stunning, blackened tear tracks and swollen eyes and all. He gives her a smile, one that’s genuine and reserved only for her, and cups her cheek with his palm. She leans into it immediately and kisses the inside of his wrist again, making his heart skip a beat.

“I love you,” she whispers. “More than anything or anyone. You’re perfect.”

“If you feel that way about me, then you better not argue when I tell you I feel exactly the same about you.”

She smiles, finally, and nods into his palm. “Okay,” she concedes softly. “Can we get onion rings?”

“Naturally,” he agrees.

When they get home, he tucks her into the couch under a warm blanket, endlessly dedicated to her comfort. He presses a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for just a moment before a knock on the door interrupts them and draws him away. He answers, Ruby delivering their dinner and smirking knowingly at his disheveled sweater. They’d dressed quickly after he’d placed the order, needing to hurry home with the knowledge of how quickly Granny works.

He places the bags on the coffee table before her, removing two grilled cheeses and a large order of onion rings and giving her a smile as he returns to the kitchen to fetch some drinks. She can’t imagine their life not being like this. She can’t even begin to picture a scenario that would make her happier than this. It’s taken her plenty of time to come to terms with her feelings, the realization that not every woman needs to crave raising a child of her own. She’s realized that it doesn’t make her broken, thinking like this. It doesn’t make her a bad woman, or a bad wife.

“There we are,” he says gently when he sits beside her, leaning toward her and pressing a long kiss to her temple. “My beautiful wife and my onion rings. What could be better?” he asks sarcastically, making her chuckle and snuggle into his side.

“Nothing, I hope,” she murmurs insecurely.

“Absolutely nothing.”

Eventually, she’ll go back to her parent’s house and apologize for her rude exit. She’ll apologize to her mother for her sudden and unexplained outburst. Maybe she’ll even explain her reasoning, although she doesn’t really feel that she should need to.

But for now, she’s perfectly content to sit here on the couch with her husband, enjoying their takeout and trash TV if only because it means that they get to spend this time with one another. That’s the only thing that matters to her.

~~~~

Tagging:

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx

#Captain swan fanfic #Overboard ff #Weather the Storm #cs ff #captain swan fluff #captain swan smut #captain swan angst #tw miscarriage

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melancholy-mikey · 4 years ago

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New perspective | C.H

summary: reader has never managed to get herself off, and in the middle of a rather disappointing masturbation session, Calum comes to her rescue.

word count: 1950+

pairing: Calum Hood x fem!reader

includes: intense sexual themes, brief mentions of masturbation, oral (female receiving)

song rec: new perspective - panic! at the disco

a/n: thoughts and feedback are greatly appreciated, my loves :)

With a huff, her shoulders slumped disappointedly, her lips curling down ever so slightly out of frustration. She muttered a couple inaudible expletives under her breath, her body just not cooperating with her like she had wanted it to.

Yet again, she had attempted trying it, though to no avail, and she hadn't a clue what on earth she could be doing wrong. Was it her fingers? Were they not long enough? Maybe she was doing it wrong. Whatever it was, she just couldn't get herself off. She had tried countless of times, over and over again, and it felt good, really good, however the build up she had worked so hard for just never seemed to release. The feeling in the pit of her stomach never erupted, her legs would tremble, the feeling so astonishing, as if she was at her peak. She wasn't. She never let go, just came down from a load of worked up pleasure, not an orgasm. And even though she knew she couldn't help it, she still decided to blame herself, fingers fiddling with the blankets that barely covered her naked bottom half as she lay in her bed.

She had been staying in a rather luxurious villa with her friends, Luke insisting that she tag along on their holiday, claiming it would be a good time to get some inspiration, though it was a given that all he wanted was a bit of freedom, some sun and sea would do him good. So, with a room all to herself, she certainly wasn't going to put it to waste. She would relax herself as much as she could, and she had a method in mind, she was just very unfortunate. This wasn't at all different to any normal day. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in misfortune, the sheets shifting along her bare breasts, the little droplets of sweat she had earned still accumulated her forehead.

"Need some help, darling?" Her head snapped to the intruder, eyes widening before quickly shoving the sheets over her body, trying her hardest not to let that strawberry blush coat her cheeks, though she became noticeably flushed and if the room hadn't been so dark, she was more than sure he would've seen it. He would've smirked, but that would've been no different to what was painted upon his lips already.

"Please. Go away," she spoke exasperated, chest heaving, not only from her friend Calum, but from the built up frustration she had given herself.

He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, easing himself away from the doorframe and quickly closing the door. It had only been open a crack, though maybe it was the noises she had made, disappointment and satisfaction. She had a feeling that was it.

"Come on, baby," the moonlight reflected off his eyes as he moved deeper into her room, "you seem so frustrated," he was extremely right, and the enticing look in his eyes almost immediately made her want to say yes, however she wasn't so sure, her mind flickering with possible scenarios of the morning after. She just hoped to god it wouldn't be awkward.

"You'll be able to finally cum, and I," he smiled whilst biting that pretty bottom lip of his. "Well, I get to see this gorgeous body of yours, don't I, pretty girl?" She whimpered slightly, though loud enough for Calum to hear. He smirked, crouching down next to her side of the bed, grasping the covers and peeling them away from her body. She was completely naked, a light sheen of sweat coated her body and made her look so deliciously sexy, he couldn't refrain his cock from twitching under his jeans at the sight.

His eyes flickered to the sight of her two fingers, her slick noticeably coating two of her digits. Grabbing a hold of her wrist, he brought them to his mouth, letting her slip her fingers into his mouth at her own accord, humming around them from the taste, mouth detaching from them with a pop.

"Tell me, sweetie," his one hand trailed along her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek causing ear eyes to flutter shut. "Has any man made you cum?"

She shook her head, no, completely under his spell, utterly smitten and her submissive side coming out to play.

"Good," he smiled, "I'm the only man that can," she bit her lip, looking up at him from under her lashes, his body now on top of hers, hovering over her dominantly.

"I-I'm not sure if you can," she muttered, not intending to sound playful nor cocky, but more insecure and shy. She didn't want to disappoint, and he could see that as he stared at her with glossy eyes and smiling lips.

"Well, we'll see about that," his face was inches away from hers, mouth ghosting over her lips, teasing her by pulling away before she pushed towards him. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl."

His mouth attached to hers firmly, their lips coming together into a hard but nonetheless passionate kiss, one hand supporting him above her, while the other weaved itself into her hair, tugging and pulling ever so slightly earning little groans in response.

Her heart rate grew furious, thumping in her ears from the close proximity of Calum. He had always been a flirt, though she had the idea that he was like this with anything that had a pulse. She just shrugged it off, she didn't consider herself as anyone special, though the moment he stepped foot into her bedroom, she couldn't ignore that hint of excitement and need in the pit of her stomach, not even beginning to acknowledge the crush that she had built up on him for god knows how long.

Strong hands traveled down her sides, squeezing her hips before stopping in their tracks, smoothing over the apex of her thighs softly, feeling her skin beneath his rough fingertips. Spreading her legs apart at the knee, he took in the sight of her, her bare pussy in front of him completely catching him off guard by how wet she had become.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, "you're dripping." Her hands stroked up and down his already bare back - Calum decided on discarding it way before he had even gotten outside of her door. "Messy girl."

With a quick peck to her lips and a slight adjustment in his position, his head was between her legs, his already bruised lips trailing up the inside of her thighs, switching sides between every kiss. Her hips bucked up impatiently, whining every now and again for him to get on with it, though she inwardly enjoyed the attention he was paying to her, the time he was taking and how attentively he spent it, she enjoyed that very much.

"You have no idea. How long. I've been waiting to do this." His voice was muffled by her skin as he spoke through kisses. "How long I've been waiting to kiss you, to taste you," he paused all movements, using this time to gaze into her pretty eyes. "To fuck you," she let out an involuntary moan, chest puffing up and down from how heavy her breathing had gotten. It was all because of him, because of Calum.

"God, babe, we've been friends for years and seeing you with other guys, it makes me- it makes me jealous," he nipped at a patch of skin on her left leg, so, so close to her pussy it almost hurt from how frustrated she had gotten. Though it was nothing compared to only moments ago, this was the good kind.

"And knowing that they didn't pleasure my baby girl- I gotta make you feel good, my darling," he stuttered slightly, the look in his eyes getting harsher, irises getting increasingly darker, his words made the thumping of her clit increase in pace, causing her to struggle in his tight yet tolerable grasp.

"Only I am able to make you cum, princess," he smirked, "nobody else. Just me."

Without even a hint of a warning, his lips were around her peaked clit, throbbing furiously and finally getting the satisfaction she needed. His tongue swiped over her bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst collecting her arousal for extra lubricant. Breathy moans and whiny whimpers sounded throughout the room, y/n couldn't help but to let the noises slip, even after trying ever so hard to keep them in. She knew she was a goner the minute his tongue slipped inside of her, thrusting in and out of her so skillfully, for a second she had wondered how many girls he had possibly done this to. Though she quickly shook that from her mind, she wanted to enjoy it as much as she could, afraid she wouldn't ever experience this kind of pleasure again.

"O-oh, Cal!" Her head snapped back, eyes squeezing shut, such obscene noises falling from her lips, she hadn't a clue she had it in her.

"Feels so good," she could feel him smirk against her heat, joyous to have his gorgeous girl moaning his name like that.

He knew he was good, but he didn't quite realise how much exactly.

The cockiness soon faded, however, as she tugged at his short hair, her lips stuttering as she tried desperately to get her chosen words out.

"I-I'm going to cum, Calum." her voice came out in gasps, her breathing far from steady as she braced herself for the impact that was about to come. She knew it would be big, after all, she hadn't really ever experienced an orgasm before. "Cal, I'm so close. I'm so, so close. So close,"

"I know, darling, let go for me," he decided against adding a finger inside of her, knowing that if he did, it would be too much. She hadn't ever felt this good before, God, Calum felt like a dream. Course, she had been with other men, though the few she had been with never managed to make her feel as good as he did, let alone get her to cum. "I want you to make me proud, babe. I want you to cum on my tongue."

With one last swipe of his tongue and a couple kitten licks towards her clit, her legs had started to shake, her orgasm washing over her like an immense tidal wave she would be lucky to get away from. No words, nor noises (except the little grunts that managed to escape) fell from her lips. Her body stuttered silently, pussy quivering, clit still throbbing though not in need, in satisfaction. Satisfaction from letting go. Letting go after such a long time of building up her release though never managing to chase it down, always letting it slip through her fingers at the last second. Not this time.

Coming down from her high, she began to laugh, her sweet little breathy giggles bouncing off the walls and becoming a new form of music to his ears as his mouth detached from her, smiling up at her cheekily, though the adoration and awe was evident and obvious in his smiling eyes.

"D'that feel good, princess?" He questioned, already knowing her answer, just wanting the satisfaction of hearing how good he had been, letting out what sounded like a purr from him as a response to her grateful answer. He climbed up next to her, being ever so careful where he put his hands, knowing how sensitive she had gotten, her pretty figure still trembling.

"Rest up, my love." His hands cradled her cheeks warmly, nuzzling his nose against hers, though eyes still dark with what she guessed was lust. "We've got a lot to get through."

ask to be tagged here!

link to my masterlist

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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

Photo

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.

Happy reading!

1) Your Good Time | Explicit | 3070 words

Louis nodded along with what the guy was saying, apparently his arousal taking over his brain to mouth filter as he said, “Who would want to hide a fit bloke like you? That guys an idiot.” Louis scoffed, dramatizing the word ‘idiot’, giving the guy a sly smirk. The guy leaned an arm against the bar, turned his body to Louis and fixed him with a curious look before he held out a hand.

“M’Harry.”

Louis and Harry meet in a bar when Harry's date is an ass. Inspired by Temporary Fix by One Direction.

2) I Push You To The Limits | Explicit | 3846 words

Louis is a brat who likes seeing his boyfriend get jealous and possessive over him.

3) Overkill | Explicit | 4354 words

Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.

4) Too Nervous to be Lovers | Mature | 6445 words

Louis doesn't want to spend quarantine with Harry, his straight roommate, who doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

5) Fratboy In Love | Mature | 6830 words

Harry Styles was a frat boy who loved to sleep around and flirt with boys and girls. Louis was a good uni student who loved to stay in and study and wasn't much of a partier.

Insert his best friend Niall who talks him into going. Louis gets drunk and ends up sleeping with harry. The next day he leaves before Harry wakes and tries to avoid him at all costs. Thinking Harry wouldn't care since Louis was just another conquest. But what if Harry did care. And actually have a crush on Louis. Read and find out

6) My Sunflower | Mature | 7057 words

Louis would rather be sunbathing at the beach with his friends, not slaving his spring break away in his father’s flower shop.

7) Waiting | Explicit | 8023 words

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

8) Shine Light Upon Your Ground | Explicit | 8506 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/H, which the reader can picture as Harry or Henry Cavill.

Louis sighs again and fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist, twisting the charms around and petting the fake diamonds.

“How much for a night?” A deep voice suddenly asks him. The man who approaches him is already pulling out his wallet and flicking through a bundle of bills. Louis, who had been sitting at the bar completely innocent and minding his own business, lets out an offended, strangled sound.

“Excuse me?” He demands, straightening up in his seat. The hem of his dress creeps further up his thigh but he pays it no mind.

9) Glistening Under The Sun (You're My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8996 words

“Oh Petal,” he picks her up nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek as she nibbles on the lavender, “How lucky are we? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, the only thing we have to be sad about is that soon I won’t be able to hold you like this,”

10) Connected To The Heart | Explicit | 9059 words

Note: This is an coda scene for this fic.

“Your stage cue is way too close for you to be wearing that look you’re wearing,” Louis informs him. He can’t stop himself from looking up at Harry through his eyelashes, the silk of Harry’s dress shirt brushing against the backs of his knuckles.

“Twenty minutes,” Harry agrees. His breath is minty from the gum he was chewing earlier, fresh and warm. “Twenty minutes can be a long time, baby.”

This time, Louis has to force himself to roll his eyes. “Not nearly long enough for the way you always want to fuck me.”

11) Fuck U Betta | Explicit | 11438 words

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

12) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest.

"Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself.

Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

13) Pull The Trigger | Explicit | 12007 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #16 on this list.

Louis has never been alright with killing. Will that change when he learns what it's like to be the one holding the gun?

14) Open All Night | Explicit | 12537 words

It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.

Harry's a bartender, Louis' got a nice ass and a shit taste in men. They make it work.

15) Among Other Things | Explicit | 16073 words

“Harry, it’s 7:45, oh my god, my class starts at 8:15,” and Louis wants to cry. Harry’s busy under the bed trying to find the tiny silver key but Louis knows that fate just hates him and he needs to find a way to get up. “Harry, I—fuck,” Louis whines. Harry stands up in a rush.

“I can’t seem to find them. It. The key.”

Or, Louis’ the teacher of Harry Styles’ daughter. Their paths shouldn’t cross like this. This meaning Louis showing up to school handcuffed to a headboard.

16) A Bullet And It's Gun | Explicit | 18156 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #13 on this list.

Louis’ parents arrange his marriage with Harry. He’s fully ready to accept that he’s going to be a sad and lonely person for the rest of his life. But then Harry starts proving himself as more than just an asocial man with money.

17) By Such Slight Ligaments | Explicit | 26764 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Henry Cavill.

A late night visit to a patient sets off a series of events that will turn Louis' world upside down.

... Here there be monsters.

18) At Your Fingertips | Explicit | 27384 words

He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.

His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.

And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.

Three…

Two…

One.

Play.

19) Forgot My Roots Now Watch Me Bloom | Explicit | 28334 words

Lonely transit worker Louis pulls his longtime crush, Peter, from the path of an oncoming train. At the hospital, doctors report that he's in a coma, and a misplaced comment from Louis causes Peter's family to assume that he is his fiancée. When Louis doesn't correct them, they take him into their home and confidence. Things get even more complicated when he finds himself falling for Peter's brother, Harry. Loosely based on the movie "While You Were Sleeping".

20) Push You Out, Pull You Back In | Explicit | 31544 words

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

21) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

22) Lidocaine And Palm Trees | Explicit | 44653 words

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

23) Sleeping On Our Problems | Explicit | 67369 words

Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

24) Truth Would Be | Explicit | 91869 words

“You want me? I’m not a… a thing to be owned!” Louis stuttered, still very angry and confused.

“Hmmm…” The alpha tapped his lips as if he was contemplating something. “Last time I checked, the debt was paid off and the only thing I had asked in return was… you. So technically I do own you.”

“You are crazy…” Louis muttered as he began to back towards the door. Harry’s impossibly green eyes turned a shade darker, but his tone was still teasing and light when he said, “Maybe I am…”

The I-paid-off-all-your-debt-so-you-are-mine AU in which Omega Louis wants to be left alone by Alpha Harry but it's super complicated when he starts to not hate the alpha all that much.

25) Collision | Not Rated | 224594 words

Note: This fic was finished in 2018, but two new epilogue chapters have been added.

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 - “Lights Will Guide You Home” (Rated PG13)

Summary: While watching the kids for the night, Crowley takes them all on an adventure, which includes a trip to the states to look at the Christmas lights. He drives them around to see bigger and gaudier displays, but Aziraphale is a little confused when he finally gets to see Crowley's favorite. (1556 words)

Notes: Written for Micha (@one-with-the-floor) as part of the Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange.

Read on AO3.

"How about this one, kids? This might be the brightest one yet! ... Kids? ... Kids?" Crowley looks in his rearview mirror and scowls. "Oi! When did the little buggers fall asleep?"

Aziraphale turns away from his window and the house beyond covered in every twinkle light available on the Eastern Seaboard (he suspects) and gives Crowley a confused look. Then, remembering that they aren't alone in Crowley's Bentley, he peeks over at the seat behind them, where five children snore softly, heads leaning on shoulders, fast asleep. "About five houses ago, I believe? Give or take? That's the last time I heard any ooo'ing or ahh'ing."

"Which house was that?"

"The one with the nativity scene made up of inflatable dragons breathing fire and wearing Santa caps."

Crowley's brow draws together as he tries to recall. "Oh, yeah. Right." He looks over his shoulder so he can see the pile of children properly: Warlock dressed in his stiff new Christmas suit, Adam a bit less formal in khakis and a pale blue polo, the rest of The Them a hodgepodge of wrinkled trousers, thick-soled shoes, and shirts of various fit alongside Pepper's red velvet gown, which her parents forced her to wear (a fact she stated numerous times throughout the evening) and which she accessorized with a faux leather jacket and a bulky pair of Doc Martens. "What's the deal with them knocking out so early? They're kids! They're supposed to be boundless founts of energy, aren't they?"

"Early? It's close to one in the morning!"

"Yes, but if you take into consideration the clan of gingerbread people they decimated, then washed down with a gallon of cocoa, they should be bouncing off the ceiling! We've been out for, what? An hour? Two?"

"Try four," Aziraphale says, checking his watch to be sure. "Did you have to miracle us all the way to the states?"

"Yes," Crowley says definitively. "They do Christmas a little differently out here. Bigger. More grandiose."

"That's an understatement," Aziraphale mutters as they pass a house so festooned with lights and animatronic creatures, he can't see the structure they're affixed to. "As is, I'm not sure how exactly you're getting away with miracling the lot of us abroad."

"When Hell finds out I used my magic to take five children across borders without passports, they'll be ecstatic!"

"But will Warlock's parents? Or Adam's?"

"Who's going to tell them?" Crowley shoots his angel a significant look, but Aziraphale matches it, arms crossed over his chest, glaring sternly, and Crowley backs down. "Look, their parents ditched them with us so that they could go off drinking and regaling and having a good time."

"Ditched them?" Aziraphale chuckles at Crowley's skewed point of view. "We offered!"

"And we promised these kids a good time!"

"You definitely delivered," Aziraphale says, smiling at his memories of their night: the snowball fight that ended with them crashing an outdoor service; the horde of snow zombies they built in the yards of a quiet and unsuspecting neighborhood; the hills they zipped down using trashcan lids as sleighs. Aziraphale was horrified by most of these to begin with, but that didn't last. Not when he saw how thoroughly the children enjoyed themselves.

Crowley, too.

But driving around, looking at lights? That was an unexpectedly tame suggestion. And Crowley was rather insistent. "But why did you want us to see Christmas lights?"

"Because it's important."

"How?"

"This is the only time of year you get to see this," Crowley explains, gesturing vaguely.

"And what's that? Enough wattage to coax down passing aircraft? Or are you perhaps referring to the eight-foot Santa mooning passersby?"

"No," Crowley replies. But that Santa was hilarious! The children spotted him from miles away and made Crowley drive over. They spent a good fifteen minutes pointing and laughing, making the kinds of off-colored jokes that make parents shush! But more hilarious was his angel's scandalized reaction - his dramatic tut, followed by an even more dramatic, "God Lord." "Humanity." Crowley sighs. "I know I talk a lot about Christmas becoming vulgar and over-commercialized. And come the day after, it'll be back to the business of not giving a shite about their fellow man, trampling each other in the shops to get the most ridiculous garbage at seventy-five percent off ..."

"Something you earned a commendation for, if I recall," Aziraphale points out.

"... but when humans light their houses like this, invite their neighbors to gather 'round, they're saying 'All are welcome! Stop on by! Let's celebrate together!'"

"To me, it's more like they're saying, 'Look at me! Look at all of this useless bother I own! Who cares that I'm diverting migratory birds from their destinations? Astronauts can see my house from space!'"

"Agree to disagree then," Crowley grumbles, then goes silent, and Aziraphale knows he's teased one step too far.

"The children falling asleep will make it easier to transport them," Aziraphale says, easing into a new subject until he can think of a way to apologize. "We can miracle them into their beds when we get back to the Dowling's. Then we can do a little regaling of our own."

Crowley grins. He can't stay stung by his angel forever. He's just too sentimental tonight to have a sense of humor. "Sounds about perfect. Been a while since I've done any regaling."

"Tonight's as good a time as any to start."

Crowley turns down a street with fewer lights and no neighbors milling about, preparing to snap them back to London. "Which house was your favorite?"

"Oh, none of these," Aziraphale says snobbishly. "I'm not the biggest fan of modern-day extravagance. I would have to say my favorite out of all the displays was that abbey down by the river: fairy lights reflecting off the water; tasteful nativity out front; evergreen trimmed with simple decorations - wooden star atop, red velvet bows, paper angels ..."

"Leave it to you to choose the one holy place we found, and only because we took a wrong turn."

Aziraphale wiggles happily in his seat. "You know what they say - there are no accidents."

"Yup. And four rights make a left."

Aziraphale pulls a face. "I ... don't think that's correct ..."

"Don't matter." Crowley turns in his seat, looks at his angel. "Do you wanna see my favorite?"

Aziraphale smiles, all thoughts of turns shelved for the moment. "Of course." "Alright. It's back in our neck of the woods, so hold on tight."

Aziraphale reaches to the side, takes Crowley's free hand in his, gives it a squeeze. "Ready."

Crowley snaps his fingers.

For a single second, the world stops.

A bright light surrounds the Bentley, engulfs it in its brilliance. In the amount of time it takes for Crowley's fingers to slide across one another, they're home.

Aziraphale blinks, looks about as his eyes adjust to the lower light. He expected to see a house pulsating with a glow equal to a thousand suns outside his window, maybe with Virgin Mary riding a motorbike behind the abominable snowman while the angel Gabriel wrestles an alligator. But the shapes around him are familiar. His brow wrinkles as he tries to understand what he's seeing. They're not just back in London, they're in Soho.

Right outside his shop.

"Which one is it?" Aziraphale looks up and down the block at darkened storefronts, most of them as frugally adorned as his own - a rope of garland, a wreath, a silver bell or two, but nothing special. Nothing noteworthy. Nothing even close to the houses they spent the night ogling.

"This one right here." Crowley points past Aziraphale toward a set of wooden double doors.

Aziraphale frowns. "But ... that's my bookshop."

"A-ha."

"I didn't do much in the way of decorating."

"I know."

"And I don't like when people stop in, so it's not as if I'm encouraging my neighbors to gather."

"Know that, too."

"So, why is it your favorite?"

"Because ..." Crowley scoots across the seat, puts an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders "... it's home."

"You consider a dusty old bookshop home? When you own that mansion of a flat in Mayfair?"

"You consider the bookshop your home, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's because my books are there, my liquor cabinet, my snuff boxes - everything I'm fond of. Everything I adore."

"What a coincidence. Because everything I'm fond of ... everything I adore ... is at your shop."

"And what would that be?" Aziraphale asks sarcastically. "My bottle of Hennessy Paradis Imperial?"

"No. You, you pair of walnuts," a grumpy Warlock responds in Crowley's stead.

Crowley glares at his young charge over his shoulder. "Rude."

"Look, could you guys take us home first and then make out?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Pepper agrees. "My entire body is numb except for my right eyelid."

"Plus, listening to adults flirt kind of grosses me out," Brian adds, the rest mumbling in agreement.

"Alright, alright," Crowley growls, sliding back into his seat and putting the car into drive. "We'll drive you ankle-biters home, and then ..."

"We regale! Which I'm confident will include plenty of 'making out'? Right, my dear?"

"Absolutely," Crowley says with a smirk. Aziraphale snorts when their cluster of pre-teens groan.

"I think we're making them uncomfortable, angel."

"Serves them right," Aziraphale says, straightening in his seat. "I could have happily gone on for another six thousand years without seeing Santa Claus's rear end. Vengeance is mine."

#good omens secret santa #good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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collectionofcherries · 4 years ago

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👀 i see that you take requests for Billy Loomis from Scream and i am here for that. How about some intense fluff (lol)? maybe what a day spent with his s/o would be like?? could devolve into steamy if you want 👀

Honestly everyone should be here for Billy Loomis. Everyone’s favourite greasy rat boy. ---

Pronouns: Unmentioned however this is written Female!Reader centric and contains feminine words like giggle and association with other women. Warnings: Kissing, fluff, light mention of murder, a literal sprinkle of angst, nothing out of the norm for a Slasher centric fic. Again I think I'm funny so that's a warning. Word Count: 2,226 ---

“You know one of these days I'm gonna get a lock for that window and force you to use the door.” You remark loudly as you hear it slide open. You don't even need to move from laying face down in your bed to know it's Billy, who else comes in through a window? “I thought it was romantic you know that whole Romeo and Juliet thing, there's a window somewhere in there, right?” You can't help but to laugh and turn your head to look at him. “Are you talking about 'what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun'?” You asked. “Sure.” He says as he plops down on the bed beside you. “Romantic right?” He teases arching a brow at you. “Funny enough I don't think Romeo was talking about breaking and entering.” You remark. “He broke into Juliet's place, didn't he?” “You'd know if you didn't sleep in English class.” “What do I need to be awake for? I speak it.” You roll your eyes to spite your smile. “How about we skip the romantic lessons that ended up with two people dead?” You pitch. He shrugs a little, his eyes looking around the room before settling on you. “Death can be romantic, what's so wrong with that?” He weighs in. “I thought you liked horror not romance.” You point out as you roll yourself over onto your back. “Unless you're trying to tell me you wanna watch the Titanic instead of IT?” You tease. He rolls his eyes at you but you can see the corners of his mouth are turned up. “We're watching IT?” He remarks. “Yes because if I have to watch The Exorcist one more time I'm going to start puking.” You say pointedly, you love him but you can't keep watching that movie. He lets out a scoff. “Maybe I was wrong about you liking romance seems like you're going for drama.” You shove his shoulder and he grabs the hand you use to do so. “I thought you'd love IT, it's got your two favourite things” You point out and he arches a brow at you skeptically as he laces his fingers with your own. “Murder and clowns.” You insist. “Clowns?” “You're best friends with Stu, you have to love clowns.” You giggle sticking your tongue out in glee at your own joke. “Yeah we'll stick with horror you're not great with comedy.” He says rolling his eyes. Before you have a chance to insist you're hilarious cause you are he leans down and kisses you, guess you'll have to make a point of how funny you are later. And judging by the heat of his kisses he's hoping for much later. Billy's kisses are deep, to spite his standoff-ish nature he practically shatters bones with how close he wants to be to you in times of intimacy but even with his desperate need to lose himself in it he relishes every moment and takes his time, never in a rush, hands never too grabby as they explore you, if you let him he'll take his time for hours. But your body seems to have a different idea as to what it should be filled with as your stomach breaks the sizzling silence with a loud growl that makes you both laugh a little. “Maybe horror is what we should stick with.” You pant out. Earning a breathy chuckle from him. "No arguments from me, long as it's rated R.” If he wasn't so pretty above you, you'd roll your eyes. But he is so pretty. Brown hair coming down in shiny if not a little greasy strands that frame his face, warm brown eyes turned up at the corners from his smile, Billy is just...warm, everything about him is warm, especially the way he practically melts into the hand you bring up to cradle his face. “Sounds like you're trying to get out of my movie pick.” You point out, jokingly pouting out your bottom lip. “I did bring Psycho.” He offers. He's not pretty enough to stop that eye roll. “We've watched Psycho like a dozen times now.” “Yeah, we know it so well we don't have to pay attention.” He points out running his tongue across his teeth and looking you over to get his point across. “If you wanna get it, you're gonna have to watch IT.” You decide. He sighs but his smile doesn't leave his face. “Alright, alright, we'll watch your

clown movie.” He sits up and you follow halfway, letting go of his hand to drag yourself up to lean back on your elbows. “I thought you were gonna bring pizza this week, I brought it last week.” You point out as you realize he's empty handed. Your stomach certainly seems to notice as it lets out another squelch. “You didn't hear?” “Hear what?” “Pizza place closed down, one of the workers in there got murdered.” He said his words dragging out slowly. “Did they say who? When'd this happen?” You ask as shock rocketed through you, you were there literally last week! “News said it was that Alex kid” And it seemed to spite his death Billy still had distain in his voice for him. “You know the one.” And you just nodded as you took that in, Alex had been working there as long as you'd been going. “He had it coming.” “What?” Was all that made it out of you. “He had it coming.” He said again this time looking right at you. “That kid was creep, the way he looked at you, the shit he said.” He pointed out, this wasn't the first time Billy had gotten angry about Alex or any other guy that flirted with you for that matter but Alex always made his blood boil and if you thought about it-...if you were being fair, he made you mad too, he just never knew when enough was enough. “You know I'm right, you can't tell me I'm not.” You took what felt like a painful breath as you tried to think of what to say back, words started to form but they never finished as your brain grappled with the idea of Alex's death. “Did they say what happened?” Finally came out. Maybe some other girl had just had enough, maybe it'd been quick...maybe then it wouldn't seem so bad. “Gutted like the pig he was.” So much for it not seeming so bad. "Happened when he was closing down, idiot left the back door open...I mean what'd he expect to happen?” He scoffed shaking his head. “Wasn't much of a fight, pretty quick...bloody though.” He said his eyes slipping from you to roam around, not particularly focused on anything. “Couldn't tell the difference from all that blood and the marinara sauce.” A quiet chuckle making it's way out of him at the end. “Found bits of him in the oven too.” “That was all on the news?” You breathed out, the words leaving your mouth without your permission. But the question hung in the air for what felt like too long, Billy's eyes not meeting yours for too long. “Uh-huh.” Finally made it's way out of him as he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “You know how Gale Weathers reports, that bitch loves those details.” You nod but there's an uncomfortableness that sits in your chest that you're desperate to get away from. “Chinese it is then tonight huh?” You try to tease. “So, you're not too sad about the Pizza place shutting down?” He asks finally looking over at you. Out of all the things to be concerned about...but that was real concern in Billy's eyes. “It's probably for the best...I mean even if it opened up again I don't know if I could eat there again knowing about the...pizza sauce.” You said swallowing hard at the end trying your best not to picture it. “They could rename it Hannibal Lecter's Pizza Place.” He pitched smiling at you. Your gag is half real as you sit up fully. “Yeah, remember how I said I'm not gonna read that book? Well I'm really not gonna read it now.” You say making a disgusted face at him. “You'd like it, Clarice makes me think of you.” You maul over that, it's not a bad thing to be compared to Jodie Foster but not knowing the context you weren't sure how to feel. “I don't know exactly what that means but I'll take it as you saying I'm as hot as Jodie Foster and not that you're gonna eat me.” “He doesn't eat Jodie Foster.” He points out rolling his eyes at you. “Oh good.” “You know one of the only reasons he even talks to her is cause one of the other guys in the nut house flicks cum at her.” Maybe it was a good thing you hadn't eaten cause another gag made it's way out of you. “And he finds it really fuckin'

rude...he doesn't say it but I think he would've killed him if he had the chance.” He says nodding a little to himself. “I would've.” He adds shrugging and before you can even really take that in he's talking again. “Anyway, the story is kinda about getting under someone's skin, understanding the way they think...the way they are...no one really does that besides Clarice you know? She understands him, she's horrified but she understands him.” And his eyes found yours once again, they're intense to spite his seemingly relaxed posture. “She makes me think of you because you get me.” How could something so sweet come across so dark? A smile makes it's way across your lips to spite your confusion...you do get Billy, you know him, you love him. These weird horror movie references are just how he gets by in the world and comes to understand himself...how you’ve come to understand him and this is no different. You're convinced you're thinking way too much over what he's saying, he's just trying to talk to you in his own way. Yeah that's it. The breath that was painfully sitting in your chest escapes you and you reach over to hold his hand again and you realize the intense look in his eyes isn't something that should scare you, it's familiar, you've seen it before it's just the way he looks when he's yearning for physical intimacy and now it's melted into the same warm look you know so well. “I'm still not gonna read it...but next week it is your turn to pick a movie.” You point out. “Can't stop you from bringing it over.” He smiles and you can't help but to smile back at him, he raises his free hand to cradle your face and this time its your turn to melt into his palm as he leans in and kisses you. Whatever worry you had is drowned out by the taste of love on his lips. “You're not gonna leave me too right? You can't...you're the only one who understands.” It sounds needy as it's said between kisses. You know what he means, it's something that's been brought up before, all his anger and resentment for his mother leaving seemingly out of the blue makes him unsure of so much. It's not often he needs reminding that you're not going anywhere but every time he does it breaks your heart to hear all the desperation in his voice. “I'm not going anywhere.” You promise. This usually leads to sex that leaves you both almost physically unable to go anywhere and as clothes are starting to be fisted off, your stomach once again decides it too has desperation its desperation to eat! And once again you both pull back to laugh. “I might go into the living room to use the phone to call for Chinese.” You half tease. He chuckles as he rolls off of you. “Guess that's alright.” He teases back. You both lay there for a moment trying to catch your breath and find the energy to leave this bed but the odds stack even further against you as you feel his thumb smooth over the top of your hand that he's still holding. “You know I think I can hear Stu crying.” You joke making Billy look at you like you've got 5 heads. “I'm the only one who understands you? I mean he's gotta be crying.” You clear. He laughs shaking his head. “Yeah, comedy isn't for you.” He reminds. “You're wrong and saying so has cost you your egg roll.” You decide and he looks at you with a look that can only be describes as 'really?' “Stu finds me funny, maybe I'll order him an egg roll.” You point out as you get up. “Stu finding you funny doesn't mean anything, Stu thinks he's hysterical.” He scoffs “Well, he is hysterical.” You scoff back at him. “Now tell me I'm funny or I'm taking away your dumplings next.” “I'd kill you for that.” He says looking at you smiling a little. “So...be careful, your life could be in my hands.” “Yeah well your Chinese Food is in my hands.” You teasingly threaten back putting your hands on your hips. His smile broadens. “That was kinda funny.” --- ~Admin Coral🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

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lucas-koh · 4 years ago

Text

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC II

Also uploaded to Ao3! Go check it out there if you’d like my user is margotmuses

Doesn’t follow canon, but elements of canon. FWB.

Song: Feel Real - Deptford Goth

Rating: M

Word Count: 3409

Please check out chapter one first if you haven’t already!

Taglist: @lahellacute @tyrilsnightbloom @bubblelaureno

Chapter Two: Suki’s Flip-Flop, Intensive, Very Long Day

On a pretty big whim, Sienna, Jackie, Aurora, and Elijah had decided to look at apartments and move in together on the walk home from Donahue’s. Turned out none of their current living situations were ideal, and as crazy as it sounded, Suki felt like this might just work out. Weirder stuff had happened, right? She’d lived with complete strangers in college, so this was no huge thing, really. Over the following week they scored themselves an absolute bargain of a stunning top level apartment which overlooked the classic Boston skyline. Somehow, they’d managed to convince the landlord to rent to them for cheap, and soon enough everyone started to move their stuff in.

To celebrate their gorgeous new apartment, the group decided that they would throw a housewarming party at some point in the next few weeks. Planning was immense - everyone wanted to do something different, plus finding time where everyone would be off work was difficult. Elijah had never thrown a house party before, so he was overlooking most of the planning, while Sienna and Suki did tasks such as stocking up on cheap booze. Aurora didn’t really want to get involved in the planning side of things, too focused on her studies, but was looking forward to the party all the same. She was crazy grateful to be able to move away from her overbearing aunt. Jackie also wasn’t so involved in the planning, but more out of lack of interest in making plans. After a week or so, they’d decided on a date. All that was left to do was to invite everyone. And, yeah, that pretty much meant everyone.

Suki’s mind had been pretty occupied, mostly by a certain sun-kissed surgeon who’d swayed her to The Stone Roses. Since that first night, Suki had only seen Bryce in passing in the corridors, always taking lunch breaks and the like at different times due to the different demands of their jobs. He’d wink or grin at her and for a moment she’d be completely focused on only that. Not to mention the all-consuming sexual chemistry they had with each other being sparked each time they merely passed by one another. She was continuously bothered by the strange familiar feeling she felt with him, increasingly frustrated that she couldn’t pin it down.

About two and a half weeks in, Suki was suffering from an absolutely awful day. None of her patients were looking at a positive outcome, and she was feeling utterly helpless about it all. Existentialism: Doctor’s edition. She’d shut herself away in a supply closet to be alone with her thoughts. And to cry. What good was being doctor if you couldn’t save lives? And everything felt like a minefield. One wrong move and it could all implode. Misdiagnoses were so easy to make and so incredibly dangerous, she could prescribe someone a medicine they were allergic to and make their symptoms broaden, or even just upsetting someone because there was nothing she could do. She worried she wasn’t ready for this job. It was all very well reading up about illnesses and treatments, but actually putting it into practice? Dealing with real life people? So incredibly intimidating.

Abruptly the door creaked open and Suki jumped back.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t… think anyone was in here.” It was Bryce. Of course it was. He looked just as good as ever, framed in the dark by the light from the hall. “I just needed to get some suture kits...”

“It’s fine, just shut the door,” her voice cloyed but she tried to subtly wipe the tears from her eyes.

He did as she asked and came closer towards her. Even though it was dark, he noticed the red rings round her eyes and wet cheeks.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on?” His voice was soothing and gentle, his usual cocky demeanours put on a shelf.

“It’s just… I feel like I have too much power. I pretty much get to decide who lives or dies. I get to decide which words to use to ruin someone’s life I-“ she couldn’t help it as the tears began to pour out again. She wasn’t sure why she was baring her soul to Bryce, but something in her knew he would know what to say. He stood and listened, watching patiently. Bryce stepped in so he was closer to Suki.

“If I tell someone I’ll save their life, but I can’t, how am I supposed to live with myself? How do I tell a parent their six-year-old will never see it to seven? Bryce…” she continued, her eyes were wide and glassy as she stared up at him. Hearing her say his name like that stirred something in Bryce he wasn’t quite comfortable admitting.

“I know. But you’re damn good at your job, Suki. If you tell someone you’ll save their life, and you do, how do you not believe in yourself? How do you tell an old man he’s in remission? There are so many good parts to this job. It’s hard as shit, yeah, but we knew that. It was never going to be easy.” He lifted up his free hand and ran his thumb softly along her eyes to clear her tears.

“But it’s my fault. If I fail a patient... Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

He laughed a brief hearty chuckle. “You made It through med school, climbed your way to the top of the medical interns at Edenbrook, and you really think you’re in the wrong place? I’ve seen those rankings, Moore. You’re good crop.”

She gave him a lopsided smile. His confidence had a way of rubbing off on her.

“Every doctor has their moment of doubt. It’ll pass.” He continued.

“How do you do it?”

He shrugged. “I just know I’m damn good at what I do. It’s still early days, Suki. Just let it come and go.”

She nodded and felt the desire to hug him. Lucky for her, he held his arms out to her and she collided with his hard chest, again. She still had her arms crossed in front of her, but moved to cradle her head into the crook of his neck, shifting her body so she was leaning into him. Bryce’s arms enveloped her, like a large, hard, teddy. She felt like a baby, cocooned and cooed at by the light soothing motion Bryce was drawing down her back. It felt like the most natural thing.

“Shit. I guess you are damn good at what you do,” she said. Her voice was muffled by Bryce’s scrub top, but he heard her all the same, and couldn’t help but grin at the girl in his arms.

“I told you, I’m a talented guy.”

She pulled her head back after a minute, looking up into his brown eyes, which were honey like his skin usually, but deep and alluring in the dimmed light of the supply closet. His arms still cradled her.

She suddenly wanted to tangle her fingers into his hair and kiss him passionately. Because despite the snark, the ego, the cockiness, he’d made her feel better after an incredibly difficult day. And there was definitely something scandalous about being in a supply closet together. The thick sexual tension that had been whirring for two weeks now was at an all time high. Her eyes flirted down to his plump lips, still ghosted with a smile. Her heart was pumping right out of her chest, she was surprised he couldn’t feel it against his own. The chemistry could be cut with a knife. She tightened her arms around herself as she made the flash decision. Without giving him too much time to back out, Suki swiftly moved forward and pressed her lips to his.

He hesitated at first, still as stone, giving Suki a moment to freak out – shit, he doesn’t want to be doing this. I made the wrong call - before he pushed his lips back into hers with fervent want. They reacted to each other like it was something that had been simmering for way longer than just two and half weeks. Their mouths clambered almost clumsily around each other. Bryce’s hands moved up her back and to her neck with a caress, before he steered her round and pushed her up against the shelves. A few bits of equipment fell down, but they didn’t care. Suki pulled him as close to her as she could, hands gripping his waist. She could feel his muscles move under her fingers as they kissed, which sent a jolt through her stomach. She was actually kissing him. For some reason, the idea felt unattainable and the fact that it was happening felt fantastical.

His lips were soft but applied pressure, his tongue demanding and dominating. Suki let out an unintentional moan, causing a gruff noise from Bryce’s throat, and she could feel him smiling against her lips. Caught up in the passion of the moment, and wanting to savour every part of this, Suki lifted up a leg and wrapped it around Bryce’s hip. He responded by pressing his body tighter against hers and removing a hand from her neck to support her leg, copping a feel of her backside on the way there.

Suki didn’t even care that the shelves were digging into her back. All she cared about in that moment was getting as much as she could out of Bryce. Because, god, was he hot. His kisses were practised and skilled, clearly something he’d done a lot. She pulled him closer towards her, and he removed his lips from hers to burrow his face into her neck and suck at that sweet spot. She gasped at the sensation, earning a cocky chuckle from Bryce. If he gave her a hickey, she was dead.

To avoid that possibility, she pulled his face from her neck to meet her lips again, deepening the kiss, and finally threading her fingers through his floppy hair in the way she’d wanted to before.

A loud creak and unexpected light falling on her shut eyelids indicated that the door had been opened. Suki opened her eyes wide and looked over to the door to see an older Doctor. Oh god. She knew this guy. Dr Zaid Mirani – her attending. The leg which had been round Bryce’s hip dropped immediately.

“Can you give us a minute?” Bryce asked, frustrated, eyes shut and forehead against Suki’s, not giving a single shit that they’d just been caught in the act, not even bothering to see who it was.

“I need some scissors. Don’t let me stop you,” Zaid snapped.

At this, Bryce sighed and stepped away from Suki. Suki tried turning away coyly so that Zaid didn’t see her face, moving away from the shelves to give him access. There was a deafening awkward silence as Zaid rummaged through the shelves to find what he needed, Suki looking anywhere but at either of the men in the room. Bryce’s eyes watched her, flattening her hair down on her head and smoothing down her clothes.

After what felt like far too long, Zaid left without a word. The door shut behind him and Bryce and Suki were sent back into dim light. She looked over to Bryce finally, who was leaning against a cupboard with his hands in his pockets, a humorous smile playing on his lips. Even in the dark he looked good, hair ruffled from her fingers and lips swollen from relentless kissing. Ah, shit. He looked so good. Unlike Suki, he hadn’t taken the time to refine his appearance. But, she kind of liked it that way.

“That kinda killed the mood,” he said, pushing off the cupboard.

“…yeah. We should get back to work, anyway,” replied Suki. She was hot from embarrassment, again. This boy sure knew how to get her flustered, both unintentionally and intentionally. That kiss sure had some intention behind it. It had been a nice distraction, and admittedly she felt much better, but it was time to get back to reality.

He chuckled and scratched his thumb over his chin. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all. Then again, asking a resident to leave so they could continue their steamy make-out didn’t strike Suki as something someone who was easily embarrassed would do. Unluckily for her, Suki was a stickler for humiliation. Maybe hooking up with Dr Bryce No-Fear wasn’t something a blubbering blushing mess should repeat.

Bryce walked toward Suki, and she almost jumped back, worried he might try again. For a couple of reasons: worried they’d be caught again, and Suki would never live it down with herself, but also worried she wouldn’t be able to stop at a sensible place. He was too sexy, and too experienced. But he reached behind Suki to grab a suture kit. The whole reason he’d even been here in the first place. He held it up to show her, before making his way to the door.

“You’ll kill it out there, Dr. Moore,” he reassured before opening the door, letting the light flood the room again, and shutting it behind him once again leaving Suki in the dimness.

She crept out of the supply closet, not looking where she was going and accidentally ramming straight into Jackie.

“You look a mess!” Jackie laughed, noting Suki’s scruffed up hair and creased scrubs.

Suki cursed herself internally as she once again started to sweat.

“Oh! Long day, is all. I’m only halfway through, too!”

Jackie side-eyed her blustery response. “I’ve got to get this shot to this patient. You’re lucky this time, Moore.”

—-

A couple of hours later, Suki was finally grabbing a bite to eat when she received a page from Aurora.

Suki rushed into the room, where Aurora was already debriefing the resident. Shit. It was Zaid. She prayed that he hadn’t caught her face before, that it had been too dark and she’d turned away quick enough that he hadn’t recognised her.

“Hey, Aurora. What’s the situation?” She breathed out, exhausted from speeding up there. Aurora looked grateful as she turned to Suki.

“Moore,” Zaid greeted tightly. Something told her that he had definitely seen her face earlier. He didn’t seem like the type to bring it up, though.

“Ms. Redford was admitted for a broken neck, but her blood work looks incredibly strange…”

—-

“So, Dr Mirani’s a pretty grumpy guy, but why do I feel like there was a reason he was short with you earlier?” Aurora asked as the walked down the corridor to their next patient. Damn her for being smart and perceptive.

Suki weighed up whether or not to tell Aurora. It might be quite nice to have someone on her side, to tell all the awkward stories. She hadn’t done the whole secret make-out since college, and back then, she had a roommate to gossip about it with. At the end of the day Suki still barely knew Aurora; sure, they lived together, but they hardly even had a chance to be at the apartment together with their different shifts and the like. And when they weren’t at work, they were sleeping or eating. Maybe that meant telling her would feel like less of a big deal? Then again, even the idea of saying it was making her cringe. Plus, Aurora was great but she might not be too impressed that Suki had been taking time out of work to make-out with a surgical intern. In a supply closet which anyone could walk in on. And, had walked in on. A senior attending. She decided against it.

“I don’t know. I just don’t think he likes me much,” she wasn’t a very good liar, which Aurora seemed to glean; but she didn’t push further.

—-

After what felt like the most exhausting day ever - having difficult patients, a mental breakdown in a supply closet, a hot make out session in the same supply closet, being caught by her attending, and then having hours more of gruelling work – Suki threw herself onto her bed dramatically. It felt like her whole body, including her internal organs, was on fire. She eventually got up to change into her pyjamas, clean her face, and brush her teeth. There was a knock on her door. She opened it to reveal it was Elijah.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, it looked like he’d been home a while. Suki was happy to see him nonetheless.

“Just winding down after work, you know.”

“Yeah, today was a long one,” he added awkwardly.

“Tell me about it.”

He seemed like there was something he knew, or wanted to say, but didn’t.

“Movie?” Elijah asked.

“Sure, I might pass out though.”

She followed Elijah to the sofa and let him load up Netflix. She pulled off the fluffy blanket from the arm and snuggled into the crook of the sofa, next to Elijah’s chair. They put on a classic romcom and settled in to watch it, everyone else either asleep or working. Suki and her other roommates had become close quickly, but she still felt she wanted to bond more with them, get to know them better. She truly loved each one of them, and they each had their own personal qualities which enriched the group.

“So-“ Elijah finally came out with about a quarter of the way in, only to turn and see Suki had passed out.

Elijah tucked her in on the sofa and shut the TV off so she wouldn’t be disturbed. He would have to talk to her again another time. He wheeled away into his own bedroom.

—-

Around an hour later, Suki woke with a stir, taking a moment to recognise her surroundings. She must’ve fallen asleep here, and she noticed how she was tucked into the blanket. Elijah. How was she ever going to bond more with her flat mates If she couldn’t even stay awake to watch a movie with them? She sighed, folding up the blanket to place on the sofa arm again, and made her way into her own bed.

In the dark of the night, Suki’s thoughts wandered to Bryce’s lips on hers, his hands on her neck, his lips on her neck, his body close to hers…

She thought about that smirk and that laugh, the way his hair felt under her fingers, his taut stomach muscles under her hands. The way he tasted clean, faintly minty, the smoothness of his lips on her own. The feeling of her leg wrapped round his hip. If Zaid hadn’t interrupted when he had, Suki wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to stop. Truthfully, it had been a while since she’d slept with anyone, and a while since she’d actually been so sexually attracted to someone.

But she tried not to think about it. He’d helped her out of a tight spot earlier, and she’d thanked him. Now, she would have to put in all her effort to be a better doctor. Not try to sleep with the other interns. No matter how sexy their body and face and demeanour was. She wondered why he’d been so kind to her, taken the time to reassure her and validate her thought. Perhaps just a ploy to get that kiss, or something more, but Suki wasn’t really sure she cared if it had been. Even so, he’d seemed genuine. She supposed he was a doctor after all, helping people was second nature to him.

Come to think of it, the way they’d kissed in the supply closet struck that odd feeling in her again. How did she know him? Did he know her? Was she just superimposing someone else on to him to make him more appealing to her carnal desires and more of a mystery to solve? Maybe it was that if she let herself get hung up in this completely farcical idea, she could ignore what she was really thinking about deep down: her failures as a doctor.

So, maybe she didn’t know Bryce at all. She just liked how he looked and wanted there to be something. They say if you desire something, it pops up everywhere. So, those feelings of déjà vu, maybe they were all in her head. Or maybe she was just spiralling, after the ridiculously lengthy and eventful day. Her eyelids started to drop unintentionally. Maybe she would think about this tomorrow, instead…

#bryce lahela #open heart #open heart fanfiction #bryce lahela fanfiction #bryce x mc #playchoices open heart #open heart fic #oph spoilers #choices open heart #oph #choices: open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices #choices: stories you play #bryce lahela x mc #dr bryce lahela #bryce Lahela fic

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fandomdancer · 4 years ago

Note

Print list #1 Fluff 32 & 50 with Talia & Sherloque please?

Here is #32, Make a Wish. #50 is coming later!

I haven’t written for Sherloque in well over a year so...sorry if this is awful...

__________________________________________

(c. December 2018, Season 5)

Tally curled up against the edge of the seating couch in the center of Jitters. She rather loved the cozy addition to the coffee shop, and was grateful for any time she could spend on it. Jitters was quiet right now, the lunch hour just winding down and the baristas scurrying about cleaning up and restocking. The sun poured through the windows, warming the shop, and Tally’s toes tapped unconsciously to the music pumping through her headphones. She took a sip of her pumpkin spice latte and picked up her tablet, ready to start another round of research on Cicada.

“Bonjour, petit alouette.”

The distinctive French voice got around her music (as it always did), and Tally’s heart beat a little faster as she looked up to see Sherloque standing before her. As usual, the tall detective wore his brown pants and button up black shirt with the green/navy waistcoat fastened securely around his chest. His grey blazer hung open on his shoulders, and his black fedora hid his brown curls. Tally gave him a little smile. “Bonjour, Sherloque. Que fais-tu?”

“Ah. I am working.” He gestured to the tablet in his hand.

Tally raised her tablet. “So am I. Cicada?”

“Non. A side project. No charge.” A little twinkle glimmered in his eye. “We are all surprised, yes, by the arrival of Miss Nora?”

Tally nodded, though her stomach still curled at the memory of the sheer hatred in Nora’s voice when she had addressed Tally last. “It’s way cool to see Barry and Iris’s kid, but we don’t really have a good track record with visitors from the future.” If only I could get her to tell me what she thinks I did…maybe I can figure out where this ‘Overdose’ came from…

Sherloque didn’t say anything and she looked up to see him tilting his head curiously at her, silently urging her to continue. Instead, she found herself staring at him just a little more. There had been a time when a Wells tilting his head would have triggered memories of Ren, harsh enough that she would have to look away. Now…all she could think of was how attractive it made Sherloque look, that detective brain latching on to a curiosity she had unknowingly laid out in front of him.

“We don’t get a lot of visitors from the future,” she elaborated, “but the ones we have gotten generally don’t bring good news. Thawne, of course. We had a magician last year, Abra Kadabra…full of nothing but arrogance and dislike. He was from the 64th century. And Nora…”

“Has brought Cicada.” Sherloque sat down on the couch beside her, gently setting down his teacup and saucer on the coffee table in front of them. “And something else too…something personal, dare I ask?”

Tally shifted position, turning towards him. “She was nice enough at Joe’s place but when we were alone…she called me a name I’ve never heard before, and told me that…that in the future I was responsible for…killing a whole lot of people.” Her eyes slid away as she spoke, anxiety and guilt for something she hadn’t even done still weighing on her shoulders. She absently set down her latte.

Alarm and concern warred on Sherloque’s face as he leaned towards her. “You believe her?”

“She’s from the future.”

“Ah, but is the future set? Or is the timeline…malleable?”

They had spent much of the previous year working on answering that very question and honestly, Tally still didn’t know what they had found out. Iris had been stabbed but it hadn’t been Iris, and H.R. had pointed a gun at Savitar from the roof, but it hadn’t been H.R.. The scene had played out the way Barry had seen, but the wrong people had died. Was the future set?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“This is not something to worry about. You are not a killer. You do not think about killing these people. The idea, it makes you sick. You cannot even smell your coffee.” He gestured to her latte on the coffee table before focusing his eyes on hers again. “What Nora knows, what Nora sees, it is in her time, not this one. You are not a killer, petit alouette.”

Tally couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, nor could she stop the blush crawling into her cheeks. She knew he would see it, and she dearly hoped he would not comment on it. To try and hide her reddening cheeks, she murmured: “Thanks, Sherloque,” and quickly reached for her drink. In her haste, her hand knocked over the salt shaker on the table, spilling salt. “Oh, crap!”

“What? It is a spill, we get the napkin here…” Sherloque reached for the napkin dispenser but Tally was already grabbing a pinch of the salt and throwing it over her left shoulder. Sherloque stared at her, clearly surprised and confused, before continuing. “What is this, you throw?” He imitated her tossing the salt over her shoulder.

“It’s bad luck,” Tally said. “It’s just…” She felt suddenly embarrassed, blushing for a whole other reason now. “You spill salt, it’s bad luck. You cancel it out by throwing some over your left shoulder.”

“Ah, it is bad luck on this Earth! Well. Let me tell you a secret. On my Earth, it is time to make a wish.”

Tally blinked. “What?”

“Make a wish,” Sherloque smiled. He took a pinch of the salt and tossed it out into the room, briefly shutting his eyes before looking back to her. “Your turn.”

“Like when you lose an eyelash,” Tally said. “You make a wish and blow it away.”

Sherloque gestured. Tally leaned forward and picked up a pinch of salt, then shut her eyes, her mind spinning through a dozen thoughts before landing on one simple desire. She tossed the salt into the room as well.

“Now we clean up the salt, but we do not throw it away. It goes outside to help carry our wishes.” Sherloque swept the salt into a pile, moved it into his hand, and then shook some of it into hers. “I will go first so no one takes our seat. That would be bad luck, yes?”

“This is such a ritual!” Tally laughed.

“Spilling salt is no simple matter.”

They took turns dumping the salt out of her hands, earning curious looks from the baristas as they left and reentered the store, and by the time they sat back down Tally had forgotten all about Nora. She leaned against the back of the couch, propping her head up in her hand, and smiled at the detective sipping his tea beside her. When he had finished lingering over the flavor, he settled in the seat and looked at her, his blue eyes vibrant in his tan face and his thin lips stretched in an inviting smile. Her heart rate picked up again as she thought about her wish, and she swallowed.

“What was your wish, petit alouette?” he asked.

Was he reading her mind? Was that how he was such a good detective? Tally blinked. “What?”

“Your wish.”

“You don’t tell people your wish! That stops it from coming true!”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how can a wish come true with only one person believing in it?”

He had a point, but Tally still wasn’t sure how to tell him without setting the room on fire from humiliation. “What was yours, then? You wished first.”

“You spilled the salt. It is your wish that is important.”

“Oh, stop trying to trick me.” Tally tried to sound annoyed but the grin on his face was infectious and she could not resist the urge to giggle at the silliness of the whole moment. Had he set all of this up to distract her from Nora, Overdose, and Cicada? Or was this just a quirky setup of life in all its randomosity? “You first.”

“Very well. I wished…” he trailed off dramatically before winking, “…to see you smile.”

Oh. Well. Tally ducked her head. “That wasn’t your wish. You’re just being a flirt.”

“You don’t know if it was my wish or not.”

“Isn’t it bad luck to lie about a wish?”

“You hurt me!” He lay a hand on his heart, looking mock-stung, and Tally laughed again.

“You’re just trying to manipulate me into telling you my wish.”

“And it is working. You are going to tell me.”

Tally raised an eyebrow. “Where are you getting that idea?”

Sherloque looked her over, his eyes dancing and that damning little smile on his lips. Then, to her surprise, he leaned over to her, closing the distance between them considerably. His eyes flicked to her lips as she parted them unconsciously and she swallowed quickly, suddenly aware that she had no desire to move even though everything inside of her thought t would be a very good idea to do so.

“You want to,” he said, his voice a low, inviting purr, sending shivers through her body and pleasant sensations through her abdomen. No matter what Earth he was from or what name he had, Harrison Wells had a voice that weakened her defenses. Ren had had it too, and she could remember him using it on her to great effect.

But the face in front of her was…for once…not Ren’s. It belonged to Sherloque Wells. She could look at his face…and not see her dead fiancé.

“You are curious,” he continued, captivating her. “We are from two different worlds and this is a superstition from mine. You want to because you wonder if it is real even though it is not from your Earth. Come on, petit alouette. Tell me what it is you wished.”

“For a chance,” Tally breathed. No hesitation, his blue eyes held hers and his voice coaxed the words out of her throat.

“A chance for what?” he asked, his voice no less enticing but now just as soft.

“Just a chance.” He could not seduce out of her what was not there. Give me a chance, she had thought, and even as she had blown the salt away she realized she hadn’t quite known what she was asking for. It had been a simple desire, a chance. An option. Give me the option.

But this close to him, with the warmth of the room and the thick smell of the coffee and the thumping beat of music in the background, she had a feeling she knew exactly what she was asking for. The question was, was he good enough to figure it out?

The silence between them worked as a magnet, drawing them closer and closer...

A violent vibration tore through the air as Tally’s cell phone skittered across the coffee table. The two of them jumped, looking down at it, and Tally grabbed it on reflex, hitting the ‘accept’ button. “Y-Yeah? What?”

“Ah…you okay, gurl?”

Cisco. Tally exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Yeah, yeah. You started me. I was…reading.”

A slight pause, then: “Uh-huh. Well. Is Sherlock with you?”

“Loque!” Sherloque said loudly. Tally did a double take. How did he hear that? Her phone wasn’t on speaker!

“Ask me if I care!” Cisco shouted back over the phone.

“Cisco,” Tally complained.

“Sorry. So. He’s there with you and we need the two of you back at S.T.A.R. Labs. Can you get here fast please?’

Tally nodded before remembering she wasn’t on video chat. “Yes. We’ll be right there.”

Translations:

Bonjour: hello, good day

Petit alouette: little lark

Que fais-tu?: What are you doing?

Non: No

#asks #answered asks #fanfiction #the news about tom hit in the middle so if it starts to suck that is why #the flash #harrison wells #sherloque wells #Sherloque wells x oc #oc: talia talbot #sorry if this sucks #i can do better #oc: renault sherwood #Ren is mentioned at least #tumblr fanfiction

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years ago

Text

Somebody To You: 18

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

A/N: this whole story is like the definition of a slow burn. Just wait until next chapter!

Word Count: 3,234

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

Harry’s attention was forced away from Zoey as Marco reapproached them, smiling brightly. “See what I mean when I say it’s the most beautiful view of Rome?”

Zoey seemed to snap out of it, too, turning to smile sheepishly at the handsome Italian man, “Yes. I was just saying that this is practically a once in a lifetime opportunity for me, so I’m glad I got to come up here and experience this.”

“Ah, well hopefully it won’t be a one time opportunity,” Marco smirked at her, “You did throw the coin into the fountain.”

Harry tried his best not to roll his eyes and the three walked around the dome for a bit longer, taking each angle of the view in. Within fifteen minutes a few girls started to notice Harry, asking for pictures, which Zoey gladly took, before they wordlessly agreed that they better head out before it got too crazy. Marco led the way, flirting with Zoey behind him while Harry watched on, irritation rising. He couldn’t tell if she was into him or not. She was more reserved than she’d typically be, but there was an awful lot of giggling on her part and he didn’t quite like it.

As soon as they reached the bottom and stepped out of the church, they could see the rest of their group waiting right out front on the steps of the church. Harry sighed a breath of relief as they waved them over and turned to Marco, faking a smile and thanking him sincerely for his time and tour and shaking his hand, to which Marco gladly received.

“It really was a wonderful tour. Thank you so much,” Zoey grinned at him.

Marco stepped closer, looking down at her with a slightly lopsided smile, “It was my pleasure, birthday girl. I hope to see you in Rome again,” he pecked either side of her cheeks and then took her hand, kissing it a little longer than necessary.

Zoey blushed, pulling away and smiling one more time before following Harry down to their friends. He didn’t even have a chance to say anything before everyone rounded on her, asking her loads of questions while they continued their way down the steps.

“How do you keep pulling all these hot guys?” Nancy groaned, “If I don’t hook up with one sexy Italian while I’m here, I’m going to be pissed.”

“Me too!” Andy agreed. “Does Marco have a gay twin brother?”

“No, he has a little brother around my age,” Katie said.

“What is this, the sister duo? Are you two genetically engineered to have the best luck with guys?” Nancy huffed, “You got his number, right?” Zoey shook her head no causing Nancy and Andy to gasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Andy halted, “Uht uh, your ass better go back there and get his number,” he began pushing her back in the direction of the church.

“What? No. We’re only here for the week. What the hell do I need his number for?”

“You have an opportunity to get with an actual Italian dreamboat. Don’t be dumb! Go get his number! If not for you, then for Katie! Don’t let her miss out on an overseas summer romance!” Nancy argued.

Harry watched along wordlessly with Aurora, waiting to see what she would do. He saw her eyes darting back towards Marco who now sat on the steps looking down at his phone. She hesitated, turning to look at Harry with a questioning gaze. He wanted to tell her not to. Why did they have to keep trying to hook her up with people? It annoyed him that he was annoyed by this. He shouldn’t have been. He knew this. She’s his best friend. She was only ever supposed to be his best friend. He was never supposed to catch feelings. But as she made up her mind and began walking towards Marco, his heart sank, and he knew he’d soon be in for a world of hurt.

He stayed silent on the walk back to the car, once again avoiding eye contact with anyone passing him on the street. He even stayed silent in the car while everyone danced and sang loudly to the radio, making a pit stop at a local grocery store to grab some ingredients for Zoey’s chocolate chip cookies that Katie requested. Aurora was the only one to notice his silence as the rest of them went inside to grab a few things. He didn’t want to go in in fear that he might be recognized, and Aurora stayed back to keep him company.

“Everything alright?” she asked, concerned.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, fine. Just tired from all that walking.”

Aurora stared at him suspiciously, “You sure that’s all?”

It didn’t feel right talking to her about this. He never really got deep into his feelings with Aurora before. This was something he’d typically talk to Zoey about during one of their deep chats. He’d go to her and whine about how he’s stressed out because he’s starting to have feelings with someone he can’t have feelings for. And he knew what Zoey’s response would be. She’d tell him to stop worrying about consequences and repercussions and follow his heart. She’s always telling him to follow his heart and not his mind. To stop worrying about the ‘what ifs’. But how could he confide in her about this when it was about her?

He couldn’t tell Zoey. It could ruin their friendship. And he couldn’t tell Aurora, because he didn’t know how to talk to anyone else about this and didn’t know how she’d react if she found out. So he nodded and simply said, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, why don’t you take a little nap when we get back? The rest of us can handle dinner.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

He sprung awake from his nap by the startling sensation of his bed bouncing him as Zoey, Nancy, and Aurora jumped up and down on the mattress beside him yelling about dinner being ready and to wake up. As terrified as he was a second ago, he couldn’t help but smile at his friends’ laughter and gladly went with them as they pulled him out of bed.

Harry felt his mood uplift while they ate out back again, having great conversation and laughter while enjoying the view. He forgot all about Marco while he and Zoey picked fun at each other and even recorded a group video, making sure to hide Katie’s glass of wine, for the sister’s parents. He felt his phone go off several times in his pocket, but he ignored it, enjoying the moment too much. They had sat there for at least an hour after eating when the sun finally went down and a romantic glow illuminated the terrace and the pool area.

“Anyone else down for cookies and swimming?” Katie asked, earning cheers of agreement.

Everyone else went into their rooms to change into their bathing suits while Zoey headed to the kitchen to bake cookies. She pulled out all of the ingredients, measured them out, and prepped them in separate bowls, preheating the oven when Harry walked out, shirtless, and in his swim shorts. Her heart rate increased at the sight of him. The man really was a beautiful creature.

“Need any help?” He asked, padding over.

Zoey shook her head, avoiding eye contact, “Uhm...you could grab me a spoon from over there if you want,” she said, sifting the flour and baking soda in a medium-size bowl. As she began to crack some salt into the mixture, Harry walked over, a smirk on his face, placed the spoon on the counter, and got behind her, weaving his arms underneath hers and taking the salt out of her grip, cracking it into the bowl.

She laughed, heart beating faster at the closeness of his body on hers, feeling his firm chest on his back and his hot breath by her ear, “What are you doing?”

“Helping you make cookies, what’s it look like? Not my arm baking challenge. Come on, what’s next? You’re my eyes.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms back behind him as best as she could, “We need to get the butter, brown sugar, and regular sugar in another bowl,” she said as he began to feel around for ingredients.

Harry smacked his hands onto the counter, knocking into the prep bowl filled with granulated sugar. He dumped it into a bigger mixing bowl, followed by the brown sugar, and butter, accidentally sticking his finger into the gooey stick, which made him groan, wiping his finger on Zoey’s shirt.

“Ew, you ass!” she shrieked, laughing and pinching his side. He yelped, cackling as she directed him, “We need to mix it.”

He felt around for the electric mixer and plopped it in the bowl, turning it on. This proved to be more difficult to do as he didn’t have that much reach. The vibrations of the mixer combined with their awkward body entanglement made them shake even more, making Harry press his body up against hers even more. Even shirtless, she could still smell his cologne, the sweet and musky scent making her mouth water, craving something both sweet and salty. Sure, they’ve hugged before. And there was that whole ‘cuddling’ thing when he came to LA during her depressive episode, but a majority of their friendship was spent apart. His physical touch was causing her head to spin.

She cleared her throat, legs feeling heavier, trying her best to push back the urge to take a bite out of him, “We need the vanilla and an egg next.”

“This should be fun,” he said, a smile in his voice as he felt around for the egg, trying his best to gently crack it against the side of the bowl. “Shit!” he breathed as egg splattered everywhere, thankfully most of it getting in the bowl.

He blended the ingredients until incorporated and now it was time to slowly add the dry ingredients. He dumped a bit into the mixing bowl, but as soon as he turned on the mixer, flour went flying, dusting her face and hair with the white mixture. She sputtered, shaking her head as he laughed, continuing to mix.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Nancy laughed, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around her, heading to the fridge. When she realized what was happening, she laughed, “You two are idiots,” grabbing a drink and making her way back out.

Finally, Harry dumped the bag full of chocolate chips into their mixture and stirred so dramatically that he shook half of Zoey’s hair out of her bun, making her belly laugh, a noise he loved to hear. The two of them both got to work forming little balls out of the dough and plopping them on the baking tray and into the oven. The batches would only take ten minutes each, so while they cooked, Harry let her leave to go change into the same baby blue one-piece swimsuit she wore to their last beach trip, her bun now in a high ponytail.

He had just finished pulling the cookies out and was now letting them cool when he noticed her walking back into the kitchen with a towel draped on her arm. His eyes discreetly scanned her body as she inspected the cookies, looking for any hint or sign of a hidden tattoo. He saw none, and now all he could think about was what was under that bathing suit.

“Thanks for the help,” she grinned, turning to face him and leaning back against the counter.

His eyes darted away from her ass and dodgily smiled back, muttering, “No problem.”

She thought she noticed him checking her out and her heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe he was. Maybe all those little moments weren’t all in her head. She blushed at the possibility, “Let’s plate a few and take them out to the rest.”

As they stepped out onto the terrace, the sounds of laughter and splashing rang louder. Zoey bent down by the edge of the pool as everyone swam up to take a cookie, practically inhaling it.

“Uhm, excused me, bitch! Where’s the new bikini we just bought you?” Andy shot, swallowing the last bite of his cookie.

Zoey laughed, putting the now empty plate on a lounge chair and cautiously stepping into the cooled pool, “I’m saving it for my birthday tomorrow.”

Andy nodded and turned to Harry, “What are we even doing tomorrow?”

Harry stood by the lounge chairs finishing up his cookie and said, “I rented out a boat to take us over to a little island of the coast for the day. Then I made our reservations for dinner.”

“Ooh, Harry, you better watch it before you make me boujee.”

“It’s her birthday! We have to do it right!” Harry laughed, taking a running start and darting towards the pool, making a cannonball right beside Zoey, covering her in water.

They all screamed and it started the splash war. Things eventually died down. Harry and Andy were chatting at one end of the pool while Nancy, Katie, and Zoey talked nearby and Aurora was lounging on a chair beside them.

“Hey, have you texted Marco yet?” Aurora asked from the lounge, catching everyone’s attention.

Zoey turned to her, hesitantly responding, “Uh...yeah. We texted a few times.”

“I wonder what his brother looks like,” Katie thought aloud, causing the group to laugh.

Andy smirked, “You should invite them to the island with us tomorrow!”

“You’re just saying that because you want to see a half naked Italian man,” Zoey retorted back at her friend.

“So what if I am?”

Katie’s eyes widened like a lost puppy as she clasped her hands together, “Pleeease?” she begged.

Zoey looked back to see Harry looking down at the water, curious about what he was thinking. Did she risk inviting Marco if there was a chance of Harry liking her? What was she thinking, of course, there wasn’t a chance. She finally gave in and pulled herself out of the pool, heading inside to grab her phone. Harry watched as she strutted away, a piece of him angry at everyone for asking her to do that. He knew they meant well and had no clue what was going on in his head right now, but still. The thought of Zoey with someone else right now made him feel physically sick.

After a minute Zoey came back in the pool and they carried on swimming. Katie had gone in for the night and Harry was the last one in the pool while Nancy, Andy, and Zoey all sat in the lounge chairs beside Aurora. He had just come up from the water when a loud shriek rang and a body collided with his, forcing him back under and clinging onto his back like a koala. He stood back up, shaking his hair and wiping the water from his eyes to see Zoey attached to him, giggling and attempting to get him back under the water.

Harry laughed. He was a lot stronger than her. Their bodies were slippery from the water and he managed to slide her from her back to his front, so that they were chest to chest, her legs on either of his hips. Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and taking a deep breath, he forced both of them under the water. When they resurfaced, she laughed, gripping onto his shoulders while he attempted to clear his eyes from the water, casually walking around the pool while still holding onto Zoey.

They heard their friends laugh from the side and Aurora said, “You guys are cute.”

The phrase stuck to him. What did that mean? Did she know? Was that her way of giving him her approval? Or was she simply saying that their friendship was innocent? Surely she didn’t know he was starting to like Zoey, otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned Marco earlier, right? Or maybe she did that on purpose? Girls were so confusing.

“No, I’m cute,” Zoey responded.

And as much as Harry didn’t want to let go of her, he didn’t want his thoughts to be too obvious, so he took her firmly by the side and tossed her back into the water. A little yelp sounded before she went under.

Once again, Harry and Zoey were the last ones up, still swimming around, finally getting to have their first deep chat in a week, talking about family, and Zoey wanting to go home to visit soon.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey laughed, standing up from her floating position on her back, ”you don’t have to stay up with me. I could stay in here for hours. My parents always called me a fish when I was little.”

Harry shook his head, standing up and floating closer to her, “No it’s fine. I’m not tired yet.”

Zoey smiled, leaping on his side, “Thanks for today. It was fun.”

“I bet you knew most of the historical facts already with all the research you did on Rome,” Harry teased, once again sliding her around so that they were chest to chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning back slightly so that they could float.

Zoey’s hands were situated behind his neck and she laughed, “Yeah, a good chunk. But it was still nice to see them and not have to wait in line.”

Harry chuckled and spun her around a few times which made her giggle more. He slowed down and got more serious, looking up at her, “So. Marco?”

Her eyes avoided his and she solemnly said, “I guess so. Everyone else seems super into him.”

“And you’re not?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. What do you think?”

Their eyes met and he was pretty sure if you listened close enough you could hear his heart pounding. He was surprised that she couldn’t feel it as her body pressed against his. He suddenly became so aware of how close they were that his nerves began to rise. She was right here. Her face inches from his. He thought he might have noticed her eyes flickering from his down towards his lips, but he couldn’t be too sure because he was doing exactly that. The invisible pull was tugging on him so powerfully. He could kiss her right now. He could try.

But just before he leaned in, Zoey cleared her throat, pulling away and letting her legs fall from his hips into a standing position. She looked uncomfortable and flustered, scratching the back of her head and looking all around before spotting the pool steps, “Uhm, you know what? I’m actually a little tired now. I think I’m going to head in.”

Instantly he felt stupid for almost kissing her, and annoyed at himself for finding it so difficult to control his feelings for her. He never had a problem avoiding someone or pushing people he might have been interested in away. He couldn’t do that with her. She meant too much to him. As selfish as it was, he needed her in his life. Even if it meant that it would be as friends. Though he became increasingly aware of just how much he wanted something more.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish , @stilljosiegrossie , @odetostep , @apples2019 , @stylesmioamore

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writingsofmyimagination · 5 years ago

Text

With Custard

Gif is mine :)

This Fic was written for the @bangtansmutcentral & @ksmutclub Made With Love Project.

My partner was @mind-of-a-hardstan and I chose to write the next part to her fic Apple Pie A Hobi post break up AU - Which I loved.

I hope you enjoy my additon!

Pairing: Hobi x Reader

Genre/Rating: Post Break Up Au/18+

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (light BDSM themes) & A Perfect way to use some food.

Sooo here goes…

Saturday rolled around way quicker than you’d liked. The eggs and custard weighed down your basket like the nerves sedimenting at the bottom of your stomach. Layers and layers of thoughts, questions upon questions & doubts over doubts

How can it be different?

Will he give you more of his time?

Can you do this again?

What was it he wasn’t telling you?

You left his ass because you rarely saw him, he was always working. The relationship, if you could even call it that, wasn’t there. You loved how dedicated and passionate he was to his dancing and singing but something changed. You’d become good friends with all of his bandmates; Jimin and Yoongi more so. Hoseok was always busy this wasn’t new; his schedule was gruelling but the last month or so before you split, he’d also become distant. Leaving you feeling like you weren’t even worth rushing home for after practice anymore. The way his words rolled down your spine two days ago.

“I’ve missed you”

Each syllable laced with sadness as it trickled down each of your vertebrae. You’d missed him too. He could have persuaded you to stay, quite easily if you were honest. You just wanted to see some fight from him.

Your insides were coiled in tight knots. Even though you had a key you knocked on his apartment door; it wasn’t your place to just walk into anymore.

Do I look okay?

Should I have put more effort in?

Jesus Y/N it’s 9am on a Saturday, you look fine

Your white strap top was tucked snug into high waisted denim skinny jeans; A black blazer shrouded your shoulders from the morning nippy breeze that battered you on the short walk from your car.

You heard ruffled hurried feet at the door before it clicked open. His shoulders immediately dropping as the relief oozed out of them.

“Hey”

He stepped back welcoming you in to what used to be one of your favourite places; home. It was unchanged. Neatly arranged furniture hardly filling the expansive space. The sun was still rising over the blocky Seoul skyline; the lounge chair you’d pushed to view the sunrises was still facing out of the long glass windows. Sometimes he’d curl up with you under the fleece blanket.

“After you left, I sat in that chair all night and watched the sky until I had to leave for practice”

“Hobi I… don’t know what to say” The shopping bag gently clattered on the marble side before you turned to face him. He swept himself into you, his face buried into your neck, arms scooped under yours and secured behind you. Your hands locked to the back of his neck, fingers stroking the soft currently brown tinted hair before you’d even registered your response. God, you’d missed him closed to you

why does he have to smell so good?.

The softness of his skin and the fragrance of coconut that lingered from his morning shower.

“I missed you” he muttered into your skin

“I missed you too” your head resting on his. How were you even going to talk about everything, you were speechless. Could you just not pretend all of this never happened?.

“Come on, let’s just make the apple pie and we’ll talk then okay?” You pulled up his chin to be met with glistened over puppy dog eyes. He nodded and offered you a sweet smile.

“You’re actually going to trust me to help?” he queried getting out the ingredients you’d asked him for.

“Well partly, you’ll just have to do what I tell you… for a change” You toyed. You really shouldn’t have, now was not the time for flirting. The way his lips curved up at the sides and the way his eyes shone told you he didn’t object. You both had a small chuckle relaxing even further naturally into each other’s company.

“Can I trust you to peel the skin of the apples and cut them into chunks?” You clicked the oven on to preheat, gas mark 6.

“I’ve got this” he told more to himself than you.

“Right I’ll handle the rest”

While he’d been focused on the apples your eyes had to fight to stay on what you were doing. His washed-out denim jeans, exposing far too much skin through the multiple rips effortlessly dragged your mind elsewhere.

Jesus, am I that frustrated that just a few jean rips have me spiralling?

Apparently, that answer was yes; it always was especially when It came to his thighs.

If he’d caught you oogling he certainly didn’t’ say. You were courteous in kind suppressing all smirks when his eyes wandered over to you when your blazer left your shoulders. Hobi though unlike you could not be as subtle. His hand would brush against yours while he was leaning to grab something, or he’d move you to the side slightly by way of his hand on your hip.

“I guess I’ll have to write this down for your mum won’t I” your hands wrapping round the towel drying them off, leaning against the work top.

“She will love you forever”

“Think she’ll trade for her Bakewell tart recipe?”

“Definitely! How long’s it’s going to be?”

“Just under an hour”

“Wanna talk now?” you offered

“Nope” he breathed pushing into you shoving you hard against the work top; hands either side of your face. One leg pushed in between your thighs. Your breathe was lost, caught in lips which were starved of you; and you didn’t half feel it. Your grip at his wrists loosened instead balling your fists round his white shirt at his waist. The pair of you finally needed to come up for air. His forehead flush to yours while your chests rose and fell together trying to contain the frantically beating hearts beneath them.

His hair had fallen over his face shielding his eyes, one hand had slipped and rested on your chest the other his fingers were slightly curled into your hips, bracing, holding himself back.

“We should really talk first” you panted with very little conviction. Hands still balled round his shirt; consciously restraining yourself from grinding on his thigh.

“Just let me make you feel good” His head nudged yours to the side kissed your neck exactly where he knows your weak. He felt the caught moan in your throat.

“Just let me love you…please!” Normally you’re the one whining for him, his eyes were crying out for you. Pleading. Hands shoved him back. In the split second the smirk from his face dissipated, until you hurriedly yanked your shirt over your head launching it the same place as all your rational thoughts; where you didn’t care!

You yanked him by his belt loop back to you, the elated smile back to full volume, the kitten that got the creamiest milk He tapped at the side of your thigh. Up!.

Legs wrapped round his waist, he stabilised your weight assisted by the worktop before setting you down on the dining table which was at an easier level. You’d many times been reminded it was the perfect height the amount of times Hobi had fucked you on or bent over it. Your arms held at his neck tight while his hands unhooked your jeans and yanked them past your behind in a gust. One strong kiss at your lips had you chasing his lips as he removed all contact.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t need to respond, the jug of custard in his hand said it all.

“It’s cold”

“Even better, underwear off princess!” It wasn’t a suggestion.

“Your shirt first” You bargained feeling brave; pout heavy on your lips.

“You’re lucky I’ve got making up to do otherwise you’d easily earn yourself a spanking for that”

He legs rested in between yours placing the jug behind you, tantalising licking the spoon clean which hung in his mouth. He obliged your request shedding his shirt off in a fluid motion. You could easily lose your way adrift the defined lines stretching across his olive skin. The way his jeans sat snug on his hips, the v line where his lower abs and obliques met were always candy to your eyes. He knew it too. He knew the way his hips swayed captivated every cell in you. Only god himself could help you when you saw him practice; surprisingly not he always invited you.

His finger tipped your chin up, hair ruffled, messy over his forehead framing the man you were so incapable of resisting. Your head obedient in following his hand, his lips fusing with yours; heavy and needy. Your hands unclipped your bra, straps ghosting your flushed skin as it slid down to the floor.

“Well this is new” he purred eyeing the silver ring now running through your nipple. His hand teasing down your neck and chest to investigate. The cool fingertips gliding across the skin underneath your chest heaved out with a heavy inhale

“Is it more sensitive?” He didn’t need the answer, he was going to find out regardless. Your eyes begged him ‘why don’t you find out’ as did the bottom lip being toyed with your teeth.

He was not one to be teased. The hand tracing was now gripping firm, holding you breast secure for his tongue to lavish. Nails on his shoulders, your audible inhale and the broken moan caught in your throat. He heard it all, giving him his answer.

“You never used to make that much of a fuss, so that’s a yes!” he deduced, pleased. Your core was beginning to ache, yearning for any contact and he’d hardly touched you. Using his shoulders as an anchor you pulled yourself closer to him arching your chest into him.

“Is my girl getting needy?” Hobi cooed slick with satiation.

“Mmmhmm…” was all you managed his lips catching any coherent words.

“Close your eyes, don’t open them otherwise you get nothing” Pouting, arms folded. You waited for whatever Hobi had left you to get. Without the heat of him around you the air cooled, goose bumps eliciting from your touch deprived skin. You were still using all your concentrated hearing to sense even the slightest sound. The familiar click of the bedroom door tainted the silence, every few steps you heard your pulse raced just that bit faster.

“Keep them closed” he reminded approaching you stealing the urge for you to open then. Even the silk now covering your eyes smelt like him. The scent was too strong for it to be natural; he’d sprayed it with your favourite aftershave of his. He watched you appreciate his choice.

“Hook your legs round loosely princess”

“…Hobi..” you breathed more in frustration than a plea as his fingers ghosted your core, barely making contact. Enough for him to feel how desperate you were for him; not enough for you to refrain from whining, bottom lip conveying your dismay. You pouted for too long. His teeth soon lightly clamped down softly. He nudged your legs up higher on his waist causing your hips to tilt.

“Fuck!” you cried nails digging harshly at his scapula, swallowing just as hard.

“Nice?” his almost whispered voice trickled down your ear, his breath running wild fire down your neck.

“Mmm” you hummed. A xmas gift from hobi; 2 kegal balls coated in purple silicon building the shape of a peanut now pushed snug inside you. A click emanated from a silicon tail before the vibrations started.

Shimmying out of your grip he swept the jug back into his hands. Your neck, the valley in between your breast, your pierced nipple, just above your naval. Your blood raced under the cold drips of the custard. Your thigh…your….

“6 areas, 6 places I want my mark. Call out the numbers baby” You rolled in the memory of the way his teeth would pinch and suck at your skin leaving blooming blotches of red to remind you of those nights

“5”

Teasing fingers traced the outline of the pools of custard. His hair tickling your sides, his tongue swirling the custard from your stomach, lips sealing on your skin above your Naval. Thighs tightening around his waist, his lips sucking the blooming red petals of blood vessels to the surface. You envisioned Hobi nearly on his knees, lips on your skin, hair covering his face in a coffee mess.

“Please let me see you” you whined. The dull vibrations of the balls were aching; only serving to increase the itch growing stronger inside you against your walls.

“Not yet princess, next number?”

“3” Hoping this would be the number to bring you relief. It wasn’t, just more torture. Hobi was going to make sure he used your new piercing as much for your benefit as his. The warm tongue on the cool metal of the bar, the disappearing coolness of the custard. The harsh bite of his teeth

“Are you making this order up?”

“The order is what I say it is baby” he purred onto your skin pressing open mouth kisses up your body until his lips tangled with yours.

“2” you whispered onto his breath. He dropped through your legs, tongue lapping at the custard from your inner thigh. His bite was much harsher on the meatier flesh, hissing through your teeth. One hand clamping down on a hand that was digging hard into your outer thigh. The pinching of your flesh ravaged your nerve endings; increasing the throb at your bundle of nerves.

One firm lick of his tongue up your sternum left only one number.

“1”

“Mmm” he hummed, dropping to his knees.

“Oh baby you’re glistening!” Lustful voice saturated with absolute approval.

“Now do I take my present out or leave it in?”

Your response was lost in a choke. The last strip of custard, had become a chimera with your arousal.

“God I’ve missed you, you taste so damn sweet” he panted in between your thighs.

“I think we can leave this now; I think you’d much prefer me inside yes?

The whine in agreeance as he left you feeling empty. Not for long. His fingers were quickly pressed to the velvet wall with the same pressure as his tongue was pressed flat to your clit. The whirlpool motion of the warm muscle had you fighting to control your breathing, head thrown back. Hand tight in his hair attempting to regain again type of stability. The strong come hither with his fingers had the pit of your stomach in your coils tight building up the pressure driving you into space.

“Want to cum yet?” The sweet devil asked denying your fall off the edge for the third time. His chest now flush to yours. Lips at your ear, fingers stilled inside you, palm pressed at your clit.

“Tell me how much how much you want it baby” You were more than happy to stroke his ego

“So…much” you were desperate

“Pleaasse” pleading on the brink.

In the midst of your moan the egg timer started ringing through the kitchen.

“Well you better cum then don’t want the pie to burn” You barely needed anything, the pressure tapping at your clit while his fingers were thrusting back in and out.

Your nails left red crescents printed on his skin.

“I love it when you fall apart” Purposely his palm stayed pressed against you prolonging the aftershocks.

“I’ll get the pie” The blindfold quickly discarded on the floor.

“I want you on all fours on the bed for me” It was an order.

The fresh breezy scent of the cotton sheets pressed to your cheek. A heavy hand pressing your neck leaving your ass up.

“I never got tired of how beautiful you look like this” His hand tracing down your spine to squeeze your ass before smacking his palm off it.

“Think you can cum for me again around my cock?” He used your arousal coating himself, brushing your clit sending more aftershocks through you.

“Think you should make sure I do” you challenged.

The ‘making love’ had fully disintegrated. He fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do on this planet. Your hips feeling the sweet bruising under his grip. You were panting half into the mattress until your hair was yanked back; moans flooding into the room.

“Please Hobi” you begged when he stilled inside you. He didn’t respond only to shove you on your back. He’d refused himself his favourite position.

“It’s been too long I wanna see your face when you come undone” he shoved your legs round his waist tightening them. Arms pinned above your head, held captive under one his hands; the other had his weight spread through his hand at the top of your chest. It drove you insane and had you clenching around him when he wasn’t being an asshole and pulling out frustrating slowly. You swore at him a lot, fully taking advantage of the lack of rules that he’d normally set

“I forgot how bratty you can be…without punishments…or a gag” He panted, hips snapping into you harder yet more infrequent.

“So you better cry my name out, wanna cum princess?”

“Fucking hell yes” the end of your words ended up being muffled by the handful of sheet you’d shoved over your mouth. He’d been keeping you on edge, teasing every last frustrated gasp, every last moan from your lips. Slowing down exactly when you needed him not to.

“let go”

“Are we actually going to talk now? And I’m absolutely starving, you went to roll out of bed. You were met with resistance in the form of Hobi climbing on top of you.

“I supposed we should. Apple Pie with custard coming up.”

“It was painful how much I missed you” Hobi admitted in between mouthfuls.

“I was right there at home Hobi” He sat up, slid the bowl on the bedside table looking at you with bloomed pupils, shining yet shying away to his hands which encased yours.

“You were right, I was away a lot more than my already usualness. And I was doing it on purpose”

It was a burn that scolded you, searing sadness across your heart. The thought of Hobi purposely staying away, the thought he didn’t love or want to see you dragged the colour from your face. You pulled away and joined him sitting. His eyes brows grey further apart, eyes widening pulled open by sheer panic.

“Hey” the cushioning soft tone of his voice, a cold compress on the burn. Forcing your hand up to his cheek.

“But not because I wanted to be away or I didn’t want you” He rushed.

“It’s just…” He sighed, shoulders dragged down in the secret he didn’t want to share.

“Yoongi is pretty in love with you and it was just becoming really hard to see the pain on his face”

Your brain could not compute the indecipherable code being spoken to you

“He… I mean I don’t think he realised I knew, I heard tears from him talking to Joon. He said it just kinda happened. I mean you can’t help that sort of thing but he was just hurting. From then I noticed more and more his eyes when I’d leave, him knowing I was coming home to you.”

You barely realised you’d stop breathing.

“Oh…I…I don’t know what to say” Mind wiped, completely.

“I didn’t know how tell you, it wasn’t my place. I guess I just kinda hoped you’d let the extra time away slide. I… I’m sorry, I never meant for you to feel so unimportant to me. You mean literally everything to me. I love you boo and I was so miserable without you in my life. Please forgive me”

“Will it be any different? I mean can you cope with Yoongi’s…”

“My schedule is still nuts…”

“I don’t mean your schedule dummy. You know I support absolutely everything you’re doing”

“Yeah, Yoongi’s fine now, and even if he still had feelings for you I can’t stay away from you”

You’d never heard Hobi sound so resolute about anything apart from how much he loves sprite.

“Please move back in. The fact I don’t get to curl up into you when I come home kills me”

Hope you enjoyed ready :)

#smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #mwlproject #bts smut #btswriterscollective #jhope #Jung HoSeok #bts #btssmut #bts x reader

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brokenmimir · 4 years ago

Text

Storm Tossed Love

White Rose Week 2020, Day 3: Secret Relationship AU

Captain Weiss Schnee, Bane of Pirates and Hero of Whitebay, pursues her arch-nemesis Ruby Rose, captain of the notorious pirate ship Crescent Rose, in what definitely isn't a unique form of flirting.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683041

The bow of the Myrtenaster cut through the choppy waves, the strong tailwind from the brewing storm driving them forward. All hands were on deck, with some crew busily rigging safety lines, while others were in position to instantly react to the storm gusts, belaying pins at the ready to adjust the sheets at a moment's notice.

“Captain, we're cutting it too close,” Neptune said, his eyes wild as he flinched at another flash of lightning.

“You're greener than your gills, Lieutenant Vasilias,” Captain Weiss Schnee sneered, not even pausing for a moment from where she was peering through her telescope.

“But captain, this is madness!” he tried again. “We're going to dash apart on the rocks! Even without this wind it'd be too tight, and at this speed we'll never make it! We're gonna rip our keel right out from under us! You have to pull away from the coast!”

“And put that storm to our starboard?” Weiss scoffed. “If you wish to capsize us with one of those waves feel free to turn us about, but I'd prefer not to drown, lieutenant.”

There was a loud snap, and then a cry of distress, as one of the sheets snapped, unable to withstand the strain any longer. The rope shot across the deck with great force, taking one of the sailors in the head and knocking him off of his feet. When he didn't move Weiss pursed her lips in displeasure. He may have been a fresh rating from their last port, but he was still one of her's.

“There!” Weiss shouted, lowering her telescope. “Get that sheet fixed, now gentlemen! Miss Soleil, hard o' port when I give the word! Then follow my directions promptly! Miss Nikos, ready the cannons! We're only going to get one clean shot at this, but after is a different story. We may well lose those pirates in the storm if we can't cripple them.”

“Aye, ma'am!” both women called.

Weiss leaned against the railing, gripping it tightly as she strained her eyes trying to make out what she'd seen earlier in the dim light. The section of Anima they were sailing around was a mess of reefs and rocky islets, with only the bravest or most foolhardy daring to come so close to the coastline, even in fair weather. With a massive storm pushing them too fast forward and whipping the seas into a frothy mess, it was anything but fair weather.

“Now, Miss Soleil, hard o' port!” Weiss shouted.

Neptune screamed in terror, gripping to the railing with both his arms and legs, while the rest of the crew held onto the safety lines and Soleil grunted, turning the wheel hard despite the currents and waves trying to resist the movement of the rudder. Just when it seemed that the ship would balk, they finally came about just enough, and moments later they shot through a gap between a coastal cliff and a rocky islet, one barely narrow enough for the three masted warship to pass through without scraping the sides.

“Now, hard o' starboard!” Weiss cried.

With a groan of straining timber the ship came about, a miniature whirlpool in the lee of the cliffs helping to propel them out towards the ocean, putting them just to the outside of huge, rocky protrusion barely visible through the storm-driven breakers.

“Ship sighted!” the lookout shouted. “Ahead of us, past the coast! Black flag… it's the Crescent Rose!”

“We've got her,” Weiss crowed. “Hard o' port when I say the word, Miss Soleil, and ready those guns, Miss Nikos! It'll be a fast shot, but we should get our whole broadside to bear!”

“Aye, aye, ma'am!” Pyrrha answered.

Neptune, who had apparently found the courage to open his eyes, lost any bravery he had as he shrieked. “There's a reef ahead! We're gonna run into it! We have to turn to starboard!”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Turn to port on my mark, Miss Soleil.”

“You're gonna drown us all!” Neptune wailed.

“Now, hard o' port!”

With the trust earned over years of hard sailing, Ciel Soleil followed Weiss's word over the evidence of her own eyes, turning the ship to port and sending them speeding directly towards the huge reef before them. Past it was open water, as the small protrusion of coast that they had been lapping around gave way to offer a straight shot to open sea… as well as the pirate ship that Weiss was just beginning to make out in front of them.

Just as they were about to crash to their deaths, another high, storm tossed wave lifted their ship, and with inches at best to spare they were tossed over the reef, a move impossible in any weather but such a powerful storm, and even then it being high tide was the only thing that let them clear the reef. Like a watermelon seed spat from the lip of the coast they flew out into the open water, carrying such momentum that the pirate ship, if it had even spotted their ship sailing in a place no sane captain would dare to take their crew, had no chance to react.

“Fire!” Pyrrha Nikos shouted, and the guns of the Myrtenaster called their full throated roar of battle.

Weiss turned her attention to the Crescent Rose, finally spotting her target where she stood on her own quarterdeck. Ruby Rose, the most infamous privateer to ever accept letters of marque from Vale, stared at Weiss with a completely gobsmacked expression on her face. She barely reacted as a cannonball shot just past her, slamming into the mizzenmast with a shower of splinters. Weiss could do nothing but smirk in satisfaction as the pirates scrambled madly, completely unprepared for her attack.

Unfortunately, that proved to be the only truly great blow of what became a desperate, running battle against ship and storm. Even with one mast badly damaged, and a fair bit of rigging fouled, the single, rapid broadside did far too little damage to the pirate ship to truly slow them down, and by the time Weiss was able to bring the Myrtenaster back into combat position, fighting the weather the whole way, Ruby Rose had gotten her crew ready, and it was her turn to demonstrate her mastery of sailing by somehow losing them in storm tossed darkness.

When the sun finally rose Weiss snarled, slamming an angry fist into the railing as the first rays of the morning sun finally revealed the pirate ship in the distance. The Crescent Rose had taken a different course than Weiss had predicted, leaving them out of position for a proper intercept until long after they reached Mistral waters, whose junks would fiercely maintain the neutrality between even an Atlesian warship and a Valean pirate.

“Damn her for a fish,” Weiss growled. “We had her.”

Pyrrha, who had come up beside her, simply chuckled. “Almost. Will we pursue?”

“No,” Weiss said, with a sigh. “We won't catch her. As loathe as I am to compliment a Valean ship, much less a pirate one, the Crescent Rose has more speed than we do in stern chase, especially with this much tail wind. No, she's gone, and we might as well give up the hunt for the day.”

“Will we return to Solitas then?” Pyrrha asked.

Weiss shook her head. “No, we need to resupply, and we can perhaps get some information as well. Lieutenant Vasilias?”

“Ma'am?”

“Stand down the men and take the watch. We're bound for Argus, if you think you can manage it.”

“Of course I can,” he said, puffing out his chest proudly. “My father-”

“Bought you a commission you didn't earn, and ensured you took up otherwise useful deck space on my ship,” Weiss interrupted. “Miss Nikos? If you could ensure that the Lieutenant doesn't sail us to Menagerie or Sanus while I get some rack time?”

“Aye, aye ma'am,” Pyrrha said, squinting at the coast. “We should reach Argus before the night watch.”

Weiss nodded to her, before heading to a cabin. Once there she collapsed on her bed with a sigh. It had been a long night, but an exhilarating one, although if Neptune Vasilias didn't shape up he'd find himself going for a long swim soon. Still, despite her lack of success it wasn't all bad. She'd remember Ruby's expression for the rest of her life; it wasn't often that she truly surprised the unpredictable pirate.

That evening, freshly washed and wearing a starched uniform, Weiss strolled down the gangway and onto the dock. Argus was a large city, one founded with a mix of Atlesians and Mistralians, although it was legally a part of Mistral, and thus neutral in the war between Atlas and Vale.

Weiss pointedly ignored the murmuring crowd as she moved through the city. When she first gained her captaincy, many said that it was because of her father's influence, the same way that Neptune's officer position was received. To be honest, that was the reason she initially became a lieutenant under Captain, now Commodore, Port, but she had long ago learned to be a good officer, and he had selected her to take control of the Myrtenaster after his promotion. Perhaps one day, after a few tough lessons, Neptune would be the same.

Or, perhaps not.

Weiss soon found her way to a small, relatively quiet inn near the docks. Most of her crew would be partying in the rowdier areas, and she hoped that Pyrrha could them in hand. She, however, had different evening plans than drinking herself silly.

The room went still and quiet when she stepped inside, but she ignored the stares and walked up to the man behind the bar. “I'm expected.”

“R-room four,” he stammered.

She nodded, and walked up the stairs, and soon she took a deep breath, adjusting her long, white braid under its stiff tricorne one last time, before knocking. In moments the door flew open, to reveal a grinning, silver eyed rapscallion, who grabbed her still raised fist and dragged her inside by it, tossing her onto the bed.

“Oof!” she grunted. “Ruby!”

“Weiss!” the pirate captain cheered, closing the door and then hopping on top of her. “Did you have to almost blow my head off!?”

Weiss sniffed. “If you let a little ambush like that get you then you'd deserve it.”

“Little ambush, she says,” Ruby grumbled. “I'm gonna be in port for, like, a month, maybe two fixing that mast. I'm gonna punish you for what you did to my Crescent Rose.”

“N-now Ruby, let's not be hasty.”

“Now you say that,” Ruby pouted. “Last time I damaged the Myrtenaster I couldn't sit down for a week.”

“Well, you deserved it, being a notorious scalawag,” Weiss sniffed. “Damaging my ship. Reprehensible.”

“Yeah, well… I'll reprehen-that thing you”

“Reprehensible isn't a verb,” Weiss snorted.

“Well, uh… you aren't a verb. So there!”

Weiss crossed her arms and gave her an unimpressed look, only to be interrupted by giggles as Ruby began to tickle her. “No, stop, stop!”

“Imagine if people knew that the great, scary Captain Schnee, Bane of Pirates and Hero of Whitebay, was so ticklish. And a giggler.”

“I'm not a giggler!” Weiss shouted, only to break out into another fit of giggles as Ruby began tickling her again. “Stop, stop!”

“I'll think about it… maybe,” Ruby mused, before tickling her again.

“I'll- I'll make it worth your while,” Weiss gasped.

“Oh?” Ruby asked. “How's that?”

Weiss looked up at her through her eyelashes, cheeks flushed and eyes dancing with happiness. “A kiss.”

“I dunno,” Ruby said. “I do like kisses…”

Weiss then grinned, waggling her eyebrows. “You'll like where I'm putting this kiss, sailor.”

Ruby grinned back. “Aye, aye, Captain Schnee.”

#white rose week #white rose #fanfic #ruby rose #weiss schnee #rwby

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mystic-lodi · 5 years ago

Text

A Tinder Date Amongst Friends - Chapter 1 (Yoosung)

Ship: YoosungxMC

Word Count: 2,414

Rating: T for Language

ao3 link

...

Tinder. The hellhole of an app that leads users to download it to their phone for approximately eight days, delete the app, and then proceed to redownload it a few days later because certainly it’s not as bad as you remember. I knew all this, and yet here I was, once again downloading Tinder after a long session of crying in the shower and convincing myself that this time would be different. This time, I wouldn’t receive any unsolicited dick pics. This time, I wouldn’t have to endure bland conversations about my favorite color or try to figure out how to respond to various almost nonsensical pick up lines. This time, I would meet someone who would let me forget about Yoosung.

Try as I might, nothing for the past year has been able to get me over this adorable blonde haired boy. While preparing for my first RFA party, I thought we had a mutual attraction but he wasn’t reciprocating my advances, so I backed off and decided to swallow my feelings. I assumed things would get better and we would become close friends. That’s what happened, but not quite in the way I expected. Spending more time with him only sparked more feelings, leading me down a rabbit hole of late nights over thinking my texts to him and debating whether or not I should just suck it up and tell him already. We’d spent countless hours just chatting into the night over the phone, gossiping about the other RFA members or discussing plans to go to conventions, but never once could I bring myself to tell him. Weeks, months, and now a year of this, I finally decided that I needed to be more proactive in moving on, which led me to this horrible app.

The first time I downloaded it, it wasn’t too bad. Just a creep or two, but nothing significant. I got bored and deleted it. A few weeks later, I downloaded it again, and that’s when the creeps started pouring in. Now on my fifth attempt, I started to ask what was wrong with me. Why did I keep doing this? Was I hoping for some Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet?

“Well, there’s no harm in trying,” I mumbled to myself as I typed in my phone number and created a new account. The app loaded my selected photos, the calm before the storm. I waited patiently and it made a soft ding. Let the swiping frenzy begin.

Shirtless in the first pic. Swipe left.

Vaping through his nose. Swipe left.

Kinda cute hair cut. I stopped and decided to click to his next photo. His dog kissing him open mouth. Quick swipe left.

Cute smile. Look at those-

My heart skipped a beat.

“Yoosung?!”

I paused for a moment, letting it sink in. I didn’t know what to do. Should I swipe left? That could be weird though. What if my profile shows up for him? Would he swipe right on me for shits and giggles but think it’s odd I didn’t also swipe right for shits and giggles? Before I could go further down that road, my thumb ignored my brain and listened to what my heart was screaming, I swiped right. I held my breath. And then a window popped up.

You and Yoosung matched! Send a message below and say hi!

Shit. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? What do I say? Should I wait for him to send something first? Man, what the hell am I doing…

> “Hey lol fancy seeing you here 😂”

Okay, sent. That should be fine. Not flirty, but not rude. I shut off my phone before anyone else’s profile could show up. I let out a big sigh of relief, so incredibly glad that was over.

Ding!

Dammit. Hesitantly, I tipped my phone up to check what notification I had received. It felt like my throat was closing up as I spotted the little flame shaped Tinder icon. Quicker than I’d like to admit, I unlocked my phone and immediately went to my messages. It was from Yoosung.

> “Ikr! I never thought of you as one to have a tinder lol”

Now what does that mean? Was that a good thing? Does he mean that I seem too innocent to have an account, or does he mean that I seem like someone who’d be above all that? Or did he think I was dating someone, and that’s why he never returned my advances…? I shook my head vigorously. He’d known me for a year and I constantly complained about my singlehood. He definitely knew I wasn’t seeing anyone.

> “What, do I seem too innocent for one?”

I read it over a few times and then deleted the draft. It seemed too accusatory.

> “I’m less innocent than I look, Yoosung ;)”

I immediately deleted that one. It was way too flirty.

> “What about you? I never expected to see you here either!”

That was the best I was gonna be able to muster in my current frenzied state of mind, so I sent it. The three little dots signifying Yoosung responding popped up quicker than expected, causing me to stare with rather intense anticipation while I waited for his response.

Ding!

> “I thought it was about time for me to try a bit harder to get a girlfriend, apparently me flirting in person doesn’t come across very well ^^;”

Flirting in person? Had he been flirting with someone before, and I never knew? I felt a little pang in my heart.

> “Well, how’s it been going so far?”

I didn’t really want to know the answer to that.

> “I’m ngl, not that great,, Man, tinder is a weird place lol”

Oh, that was a better response than I was expecting. Of course I wanted him to be happy. Nothing in the world would put a smile on my face faster than seeing him happy. I wasn’t over him in the least at this point, though. There was no harm in slightly jealous thoughts as long as I didn’t share them out loud, right?

> “What about you?”

He wanted to know how my Tinder escapades were going? That’s kind of odd. No, he was definitely just asking because I asked him first.

> “About the same for me too lol”

That wasn’t wrong. Well, not until he showed up.

> “I have a fun idea!”

I smiled softly to myself, imagining his wide grin as he sent the message.

> “Lemme hear it!”

The three little dots showed up and then disappeared. Showed up again, disappeared again… What in the world was he typing?

> “We should go out for a fancy dinner date!”

I nearly choked on my own saliva. A date?! Did he just ask me out on a date? The dots showed up again. My heart started racing.

> “If neither of us are meeting anyone on here, I thought it’d be fun if we pretended we’re on a date, got all dressed up, and went out to eat! :D”

Damn this boy. This sweet, adorable, dumb boy. My heart started to calm down a bit, anxiety replaced by a mix of calmed and disappointed. My racing thoughts began to slow and one in particular stood out.

> “That sounds kinda fun actually, let’s do it!”

I smiled at the thought of Yoosung all dressed up. Sitting through a dinner while trying my best to not reach across the table and hold his hand or brush his hair out of his eyes would be worth it if I meant I could get to see him and talk to him and just feel his presence near me.

> “Perfect! I can pick you up tmrw night around 7, does that work?”

Of course that worked. Any time worked. If I had something to do, I would happily rearrange my schedule to be able to meet up with him.

> “Definitely, I’ll see you then!”

> “Can’t wait! :D”

That last comment made me giddy. Maybe it wasn’t romantic, but it still made me so excited to know that he couldn’t wait to see me. Finally prying myself off the couch I had been lazily perched in for who knows how long, I quickly went up to my bedroom to rifle through my closet and find what I would be wearing tomorrow night. It couldn’t be anything too revealing, it wasn’t a romantic date. But it had to be something classy, since wherever Yoosung was going to get reservations was most likely going to be a classy place, seeing as he did call it a “fancy dinner date.” I froze in my tracks, one hand gripping the now open closet door and the other between hangers. This was going to be my one and only chance to go on a date with him. Realizing this, I felt a new, sudden wave of confidence run through me. I was gonna go all out, strut my stuff, even if it killed me. What did I have to lose?

…

Ding! Ding! Ding!

I groaned and rolled over, my arm flopping out to grab my phone and turn off my alarm. My eyes were squinting tightly to try and block out the late afternoon sun streaming through my window. My phone lockscreen read 6:15pm. A grin broke out on my face. A day and a half of waiting, napping to fill in the time, and now I only had forty five more minutes until our “date.” I groggily and slowly pulled myself up from under my covers and made my way over to my closet. On the back of the door, I had hung up a short, black, off the shoulders high-low dress that came down to mid thigh in the front and just below the knees in the back. On the floor I had placed a pair of matching black heels and a silver handbag. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for having picked this out in the dead of night, half asleep the night before.

I slipped out of my t-shirt and shorts and into a bathrobe, making my way over to the bathroom to put on some makeup. I leaned over my sink and, with my face far too close to the mirror, I applied soft brown and red eyeshadows, a gentle eyeliner wing, and some fantastically red lipstick that popped in the best way. I leaned back and admired my handywork, earning myself another mental pat on the back. I brushed out my hair, deciding to keep it natural with its soft waves, before I made my way back to my bedroom. I carefully, slowly slid my dress on. I then moved over to my bed, sitting on the edge of it to put on my heels.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

I sighed and turned off another phone alarm, this one signifying it was 6:45, giving me fifteen more minutes to mentally prep. I leisurely strapped on my heels as I let my mind wander. Why did I agree to this? I mean, obviously it’s because I wanted to go out on a date with Yoosung, but this wasn’t even going to be a date. Was I gonna try and seduce him or something? Is that why I was getting so dressed up for this? No, that wasn’t part of the plan. If he didn’t have the same feelings for me that I did for him, I wasn’t going to force myself onto him. I just want him to be happy, whether that’s with me or without me.

Suddenly, a harsh clunking sounded from downstairs and I jumped slightly, the sound pulling me from my thoughts. I stood up, taking a few careful steps to test out my heels and I was ready, moving quickly to go investigate the sound. The sound returned, this time a bit quieter, but I finally recognized the sound as knocking.

“Coming!” I shouted. I rushed over to the door, quickly swung it open, and I froze in blissful shock. I smiled ear to ear when I saw Yoosung in front of me. He stood at my doorstep with a nervous smile on his face and a single long stemmed pink peony in his hands, dressed to the nines in dark blue suit, a long soft yellow tie pairing nicely with a lighter blue dress shirt, and of course his adorable two brown hair clips pinning back his hair.

“Yoosung, you…you look amazing…” I couldn’t help staring as I pushed my door open further to let him step in for a moment. A blush crept up on his cheeks and he stared at me for a moment. He shook his head lightly, as if to bring himself back into focus, and followed me inside. He made a soft noise that slightly resembled a gasp as he stretched his arm out to offer me the flower he held.

“This is for you!” His nervous smile grew wider and I giggled. Why was he so nervous? It’s not a real date, what did he have to be afraid of? It might be rude to ask that… He just looks so damn cute when he’s nervous!

“You’re too sweet, thank you so much! You didn’t have to…” I trailed off and became a bit nervous myself. His jittery energy ended up being rather infectious.

“Let me go put this away and we can get going,” I practically skipped over to my kitchen, straight to one of the higher cabinets. I stretched my arms up as high as they’d go to pull down a tall thin vase from a shelf that was almost too tall. I managed to pull it down without dropping it and I filled it with water. I slid the beautiful flower into it and placed the vase on my dining table.

“A-ah, you’re gonna display it…?” Yoosung stuttered and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck, causing me to giggle once more.

“Of course! I want everyone to know what a wonderfully sweet friend I have!” Calling him my “friend,” I felt a little pang in my heart. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn I saw a bit of hurt in his eyes at this statement. I mustered up all the courage I could and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna be late,” I smiled back at him as I walked through the door.

#yoosung #yoosung x reader #yoosung x mc #yoosung kim #yoosung mysme #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung mm #mysmes #mystic messenger #fanfic #writing #a tinder date amongst friends

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bucksbisexual · 4 years ago

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAA OKAY LAST ONE OF MY OPINION POSTS HERE GOES EP12:

[breathes in]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i’m so fucking happy with this ending

it’s such a good happy ending this is truly what the gays deserve i’m just happiness in physical form rn

i don’t even know where to start but i’ll try to make this as chronological as my brain allows me because my memory do be sucking

i’m gonna put a keep reading because this shit will get loooooong kjshfkf okay let’s do this

so.. we start with PETE EXPOSING NON(T)’S BRAT ASS!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YES THATS MY BABY THATS MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!

kao’s mom being a fucking badass and telling her BOSS how to do shit. i love her yall I LOVE HERRRRRRRR

also kao’s mom telling kao that she wasn’t the most amazing person ever was so cute because you can see kao’s light bulb turning on sjfkhsgsh please i love them

yes i will say i love x after every single one of these u can’t stop me

from the teaser i thought kao would dashi run run run to pete’s house but thankfully he took a taxi lmao

at least he didn’t run there because he had to run from pete’s house (or may i say, mansion) to the POOL my man is a whole athlete oh my god

KAO YELLING HE LOVES PETE!!!!!!!!!!! IN THE MIDDLE OF A CLOSED SPACE WITH PEOPLE IN IT!!!!!!!!!!!! AND HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK IF THEY HEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THATS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT BABYYYYYYYY

also a beautiful parallel to the scene from ep1 (i noticed there’s a lot of parallels in this episode we stan character development and repeating things just so the viewers can see how consistent the couples are)

the kiss from that scene............... beautiful amazing gorgeous idk many words in english to describe how i felt while watching and how i feel about it

to that i think we cut to sunmork but i don’t remember what happened because of the kiss KJHFKSL SORRY

anygays i rlly like how this whole episode is sun being a clingy bih and mork gay panicking while trying to act like a confident gay when he knows that sun outconfidentgays him i love them lmao

okay after that i think it’s petekao having food with their parents all together and god i looooooove this scene

pete’s dad being the lgbt ally dad all of us lgbt fellas with homo/transphobic dads wish we had will never fail to make me soft i love that man pls be my dad too

also kao’s mom :-(( i love her she respected her son’s decision on not coming out until he was ready even though she already smelled it (reminds me of my mom lmao) and was always there for him even when kao didn’t say anything :-(((((((((((

petekao bickering will never get old i swear i love every time they do because that’s so..... men it makes their characters more real

i know there’s a lot (not that much because i admit this episode was kinda short?? idk maybe it’s just me) between that scene and this one but THE SQUAD EATING ALL TOGETHER AGAIN!!!!!!!! AND THEM TEASING PETEKAO!!!!!! PLEASE I LOVE THEM

pete literally not knowing how to stop the audio and broadcasting live TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY that time when he told kao he loved him through the teddy bear...... peak pete culture

the fact that ppl love them and they have a whole hashtag on twitter makes me soft because usually when someone is famous in bls the fans hate the other part of the couple but in this one??? oh no honey we stan petekao in this household hate is not allowed it’s actually prohibited illegal

okay let me backtrack a bit skjfhsjf

OH YES I FORGOT!!!! manow wanting to talk with mork was so weird when i saw the teaser for the episode but after seeing them talk i was like oooooh okay i understand

sun saying “what’s your girl saying to my boy” is probably one of my favourite lines of this drama KLHSJFLF

rain reading their lips fskjfjsf and when mork said “fuck you rain” HIS FACE SKJFHKSJSLFJ HE WAS SCARED SHITLESS but also the end of this scene was so cute i love these three

i just did a bit of skipping through the episode to try and actual make an order out of this mess and the petekao+parents thing comes now,,,,,, anygaYS

then it’s more teasing between sunmork blah blah

then MORK SPEAKING THE MF TRUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!! quoting the actual dialogue “it’s my choice to tell or not tell anyone. i should get to decide”

OUTING SOMEONE ISN’T COOL!!!!!!! IT’S NOT OKAY!!!!!!!!!!! NO LGBT PERSON WILL EVER WANT TO BE OUTED!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T DO THAT SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

rain had good intentions but it doesn’t mean that it was right of him to do so

okay this got serious,, sun going to rain’s bed with not one but Two pillows when barely two people fit in that bed.... oh to be that iconic and carelessly gay

back to petekao because we will never get enough of these two (which is why i’ll probably watch the our skyy episode tomorrow just to cry over these fools)

it’s so weird to see tay being like this after watching him being himself in other things like the live lunch and taynew meal date and other things i’ve randomly watched during this week to retain myself from finishing this series in a night ksfjhsfkshlks

also kao helping pete shave and pete being like do u like my moustache or should i shave it for u my lord SFHKFJ the domesticity and just the feeling of two idiots being in love i love them with my whole heart

kao staying at pete’s house because it’s both of their first days as interns and kao!!!!! he works for pete’s dad!!!!!!! pete’s dad accepted him into his company!!!!!! i love them

also the bickering between those three sjfkhs “hello im pete im from thailand” “that’s all you’ll say today” THAT WAS SO FUNNNY SKJFHSKFHSFJSFL

THE MESSAGE IN THE TEDDY BEAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KAO CALLING PETE LOVE PLEASE IM GONNA CRYYYYYYYYYYYY I LOVE THESE FOOLS

okay so the squad eating together is right after this but i already talked about it ksjfhsfh next!!

idk if it’s a big time skip or a small one but guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MANOW AND RAIN ARE DATING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY STRAIGHT BABIES YES I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU AAAAAAAAAAAAA

manow is so pretty and rain is so cute they’re both so lucky my bisexual ass is crying

pete being “angry” at kao being so handsome,,, a mood

but also.. pete being possessive was h*t

there i said it and i don’t regret it

random but i will miss kao’s annoying ass saying “about aboyz” sjfkhsfh

pete being like “i will have to give u more love bites (ffs gmmtv just say hickies we are all at an age where we know what love bites are) so no one flirts with u” and kao being like “bitch try me” sjfhksfj i’m loving bratty kao

also that scene turned into furry kao real quick KJHDKJFSHJF

okay now it’s: mork’s birthday party time!!

rain and manow arrive first and are the cutest couple around because the two main gays haven’t arrived yet (being gay AND punctual? not possible)

sun and rain fighting in the kitchen was peak siblings culture skfhksjf

mork being ready to leave his own birthday party with a stranger who also plays pokemon go just to have a battle................ dumbass bisexual energy

said stranger is eARN FROM 2GETHER!!!!!! FILM IS IN THIS TOO!!!!!!!! first the girl who plays yuri in yyy and now film who plays earn in 2gether is here too??? damn wlw keep winning (also headcanon: theyre dating/seeing each other because LESBIANS periodt)

okay petekao arrive and wont u guess whats their present for mork,,,,,, the mf TEDDY BEAR and kao rlly says that they should use it since theyre so lip sealed lmao

rain and manow literally gave mork a present not for him but for sun im- i love these two

MORK FINALLY SAID YES TO BEING BOYFRIENDS OH MY GOD DUDE U ACTUALLY HAD ME WORRIED THERE FOR A SEC

also sun being a whole koala and being a horny bitch is so funny sfhskfjskl my man has his priorities set

their last scene is so cute :-(( poor rain will have to live with this until he moves out sjfhksjf

oh boi the ending is near hhhhhhh

kao teaching his class an equation that ends up in i < 3 u is the most kao thing i’ve ever seen

also kAO IS BOOKED AND BUSY BABYYYYYYYYYY GET THOSE COINS HONEY

pete being like “u haven’t spent enough time with me lately >:-(” was cute jhkfjs my man is needy of kao and i understand that because have u seen kao? exactly

kao teasing him with not having forgotten the cup this time and pete being his possessive self was.. splendid

every reference to something that happened with non(t) hurts but also i love how they just tease each other because they know that now their relationship is stronger than it’s ever been and that nothing and no one will come between them

the scenes they show during the last last scenes :-((( BOYFIES!!!!!!

and i love how they decided to end the show with them holding hands in public

i would explain why i do but it’s 6:26 am and i’ve been writing this for at least half an hour already and my laptop is heating up a lot and im sweating because it’s hot in here so get down on the floor pipiipipipipipipi

kdjhkdfhs sorry im not sleepy this is just my brain without a filter it’s just gay shit and a big repertoire of songs

god okay that was my opinion on the last episode of dark blue kiss...........

needless to say that i will eat every bit of content related to petekao after this because writing this i already miss them and i can’t wait to watch our skyy tomorrow idk where but i will

i really really REALLY liked this drama and it’s one of the two bl dramas (not counting the untamed) i’ve given a full 10/10 rating on mdl because it’s THAT good

everything about this drama is just.. chef’s kiss i love it i will probably rewatch it when my plan to watch is empty but it’s a pretty long list so.. hopefully i’ll ignore that and just rewatch sjkfhslf

i’ll of course watch kiss and kiss me again just for the petekao, the squad and rain scrumbs because i’m sure that the petekao compilations don’t show everything

but yeah im just.. i love this show it’s been a rlly long time since i started writing this but i’m still happy because it’s so good and truly gave us a good happy ending and i swear i cannot emphasise enough how important good happy endings in lgbt media are!!!!!!!!!!

anygays im hungry and ready to submerge myself in the dbk tags, see u all tomorrow for my our skyy petekao episode version of this,,,,,

till then, stay safe ! bYE

#dark blue kiss #dbk the series #dbk #dbk reaction

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