#Whenever my only desire becomes ''make it stop'' I think I am letting pent up emotion burn a hole through my stomach.

[blackwaxidol]

I do not know what my problem is.

[beauty-of-depravation]

Wanna make love ?

Gif not mine ♥️

Okey I've written the whole damn thing in one go, i didn't read it twice, I'm thirsty for Bucky everyday of my life.

Warning : explicit sexual content +18. Fingering/fucking/Making love/ condom is not an option/from slow to rough/ slow burn/FwB kind off/ dom Bucky/dirty talk

You always were a bold girl.

The afternoon had been going amazingly. Bucky is your best friend, and recently you both have been feeling off. You don't know if it's the approaching winter, or the work related stress, or just the weight of your pasts, but you needed this afternoon. A whole afternoon spent talking, about big everythings and sweet nothings. You went from talking about tragic events and confessing some pent-up feelings, pretty intimate emotions and impressions, to laughing and fooling around. the wind was strong and the rain fell violently on the window. Bucky was sitting on the wooden bench under the window and you were sitting cross-legged, on the carpet, your half-emptied glass of wine in hand, and an empty pack of cookies by your side. You still have a huge smile on you lips, and your belly still hurts from laughing soo hard, Bucky is one goofy motherfucker. The calm slowly comes back, and you let yourself fall on your back, still smiling softly. The silence is not awkward, it's serene.

And then you feel it.

They say nothing good happens after 2 am. They say it all seems to start after few taquilla shots. They say that hot summer nights are the most likely to lead to sex. The stories talk about how two best friends are in love, the girl comes back after a terrible date, her guy best friend invites her to drink. Maybe him too had a terrible night. after few shots, they flirt, fuck hard, then confess.

What about calm rainy afternoon. What about sharing a bottle of red wine. What about the fact that Bucky can't get drunk, and you only had two glasses. and then you want to make love ? What about If you are not in love, you just want to make love.

What if you are not falling in love but just falling in desire ?

What could possibly go wrong ?

You tilt your head back up, and look at the man by the window. One leg bent against his wide firm chest, the other on the ground, his long brown locks framing his face, his amazingly beautiful eyes are fixed on the apocalyptic landscape behind the glass. He is wearing a black t-shirt, and sweatpants. Your eyes wander over what you know to be a perfectly toned chest, and to his metal left arm which is facing you. He doesn't really like to leave it seen by everyone like that, but with you, he doesn't have this complex.

You stand up, walking to the bench, and sit beside him, also admiring the stormy weather.

— Wanna make love ? you say in raspy, dreamy voice, without looking at Bucky.

— What ? you hear him turn around to face you.

— I said, wanna make love ? you repeat, still not looking at him.

— Y/N what do you mean "make love"

— Bucky, are you completely dumb ? you finally turn your face.

— You mean ...sex make love ?

— Yes, James, because we are six. Sex make love, you reply with humour in your voice.

— i mean, where did that come from? he asks hesitantly.

— i don't know. I want to make love.

— right now ?

— yes, right now.

— with me?

— yes, with you.

Poor man is so confused, but you can see his body tensing.

— i ...i just want to have you inside of me right now, while we look out the window, look how much it's raining, and how the thunder rumbles, wouldn't it feel so good ? You heard his breathing go heavy, but you still add, if you don't want to just say no.

— it's not that I don't want to, he answers quickly, just need to make sure ...are you drunk?

— A little tipsy. Not enough for me to not know what I'm asking for and not enough for  you to feel guilty.

— So, you are just a weirdo ? Some humour is back in his tone but you feel like his voice is ... deeper.

— Yes.

— will it ...make things weired ?

— no, consider i want ....a really deep hug.

— from me ?

— James, if you don't kiss me in the three next seconds consider that I've changed my mind.

But you decide to go easy on him, and lean down half of the way, he comply and bring his lips to yours, gently, slowly, you start kissing eachother. It's ... poetic. Like you wanted it to be. You weirdo beauty obsessed girl.

You and Bucky, it feels perfect. Two souls permanently damaged. Two best friends. Why do people always think that "soulmates" is a word for couples only?

His tongue gently caress your lip and you part them, letting him invade you.You taste eachother the wine and the tenderness. His flesh hand is soon traveling along your back, to the back of your neck, and it sinks into your hair. A muffled moan escapes your lips when his metal hand grab your ass and push you against him, pressing your chest to his.

— Wait, wait, you breathe.

— What ? Bucky move his head back, and  look deepe into your eyes, half- worried, half disappointed.

— Relax, we are not stopping, James.  Just, let me straddle your lap. 

He chuckles, you love this sound, it makes you smile whenever you hear it.

— come here, he whispers, as he grab you ass more firmly, extend both his legs on the bench, leans his back to the wall behind him, and pulls you close, he initiates another kiss, and you start slowly moving your hips on his. 

You hear him grunt, and a cheeky smile come to your lips, as you feel him getting hard. You feel him smile arrogantly to, and you don't understand why, until he suddenly push his hips up, crashing his hardening cock with your crotch, a loud moan escapes your throat, you open your eyes and meet his gaze analyzing you, his metal hand take control of your hip rolling, and he makes it more intense. You can feel it now. The man is...god blessed. Fuck.

— Bucky...! you whine.

— Yes, doll ?

— don't tease.

— Then get of me.

— What ?

— Don't worry, Y/N, we are not stopping. You stick your tongue out at him, falsely irritated as he quotes you. But you face becomes red pretty soon when he adds in a dangerously low voice, his lips against your ear, Let's just get you ready for my cock, yeah ? Let me taste this pussy, doll.

He chuckles at how fast you jump off his lap. He slides down from the bench to,  drop to his knees and tap the space on the bench in front of him, taken by a sudden shyness you sit at some distance from his face. A loud laugh escapes his throat, and he suddenly grab under your knees and and pulls you toward him.

— Don't shy away, doll. Now, you are not allowed to cum, and don't you dare move. Understood ? he instruct while pulling down your pyjama pants and underwear at the same time.

— Yes.

— good girl. I'm going to take great care of you. he says, with nothing but sweetness and desire in his voice.

And suddenly, his mouth is on your pussy, his tongue flat against your clit. You mewl your pleasure, and your forearm covers your eyes, as he licks a line along your sex.

— Oh, god !

An deeply amused "Ehmmm" is his only reply.

He kiss your lips, bite your inner thigh and leave a hickey there. Then licks again, from your entrance to the head of your clit. You squirm at the feeling, and his metal hand push your hips down

— Doll, i really want to take you, make it hard for me to prepare you, and I'll push inside of you right now.

— Then do it, I'm wet enough, you argue.

— No, you are not, I'm to big for your little pussy.

You moan and your inner walls clench imagining him

— Cocky shit.

— I saw how you clenched, into dirty talk sweetheart?

— i can still change my mind about what we are doing.

He chuckles again, and ...it's weak to say he gets to work. He fucking eats you out like you are his last meal. He roughly suck at your clit, making his name spill from your lips like a plea, both his hands on your thighs forbid you to move an inch, as he keeps pushing and playing with the devil's door bell.

His tongue flicks your nub, and it takes a scream of pleasure away from you.

— I'm going to push a finger in, doll.

You moan and try to make a move toward him.

— ohh, so needy... Alright. But you have to tell me which one.

Your eyes snap open.

The mother fucking bastard. He knew, and you knew he knew. And you knew he knew you knew by the tone he used.

Okey. You might had confessed to Bucky, about a month ago, that you were...very curious of how his metal fingers felt inside a woman. And be might have answered by :

"They never get tired"

And you said "your too sweet to put a woman through that in bed" and he replied with a wink and "try me"

Ohh. Ohh. No.

But as if he was reading in your mind, he said :

— don't worry doll, not tonight. Tonight, we are going to make love slowly, by the window, for as long as you want. But i still want you to admit it.

— Oh, please..

You slaped yourself mentally, you were aiming for a sharp tone, but you sounded...needy.

— Say it, or you'll never know...

— You fucker... alright...i want the metal hand...

— what do you say?

— fuck off.

— alright alright, We'll work on manners another time.

And with that, he pushes knuckle deep one cold metal finger.

— how does it feel, sweetheart ? Tell me, his voice is sweet but still firm.

Oh that, that is an exercise you love. You focus on the feeling.

— it's cold, and it contrast with my temperature, i can't feel the hard metal on my walls, and ...oh when you move it like that, i can feel the tip of your finger lightly pushing on the spot...

Bucky is focused on your breathy description...and when you mention the sweet spot, he suddenly push harder on it.

— oh yeah ? This one ? Like that ?

— Oh fuck, Yes yes there Buck, right there.

— yes m'aam.

And with that, a second finger push inside of you, and he start pumping a little faster, pushing on your sweet spot.

— Oooh your fingers fill me up Soo good buck.

— Two fingers and already full, doll ? Unless I make you take at least three, my cock is going to stretch you out...oh doll, you just clenched around me. Like the idea of being stretched out on my big cock, hmm ? Good girls take a little pain, perfect girls enjoy it, which one are you ?

As you moan and don't answer, a third finger roughly push inside you, no warnings.

— Ooohhh buckyyyy !!!

— I said, which one are you ? His voice is now commanding. And his fingers fuck you harder, waiting for the answer.

— Pain is part...fuck.... part of beauty.

You feel him smile against your thigh, as he kiss it sweetly while fingering fucking you with all his might.

You feel your orgasm coming, you focus your mind on the sound of the rain behind you, and the feeling of Bucky's fingers pumping in and out of you at a demential pace, and his lips are back on your clit as he draw circles on it. Your soul is about to leave your fucking body. And you smile, the image of it is beautiful, you have this amazing man between your legs, and behind you a storm is ragging.

You moan loudly, and grip the sides of the bench and ...

— WHY DID YOU FUCKING STOP ?

a loud laugh, a real sincere laugh echos in the room as you sit up, looking at Bucky.

— Oh my God, your reaction is priceless doll ! You are the most fun I've had in decades!

— well that's not a surprise...you mumble, rolling your eyes, as he keeps laughing.

— Soo light headed... He says, taking off his shirt, and then his sweatpants. He went back to serious, and you had a hard time swallowing your saliva with the look he gave you. I told you, you were not to fucking cum. And you forgot.

Your eyes open wide. Shit.

He then grabs you by the waist, and sits down, his back to the wall, and make you straddle his lap once again. You wiggle on his muscular thighs, as he sows wet kisses on your neck, his long fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt. He slowly takes it over your shoulders.

— Fucking hell, i'm still a man doll, your tits freely bouncing at every movement you made had my head spinning all afternoon.

You giggle and he smiles at you sweetly, giggling to.

— Your skin is so soft...

He kisses a line between your breasts, then capture one of your nipples between his teeth, making you arch your back. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nipple and suck on it passionately, as his flesh hand plays with you other boob, massaging it, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. He then make his way of kisses up you neck, stopping behind your ear, he whispers:

— So now, sweetheart, let's follow the original plan, you are going to sit on my cock, and we are going to make love, as slow as I command you to, looking out at the storm. And if you want to cum, you are to beg for it.

— What ? But i..

— Oh, no back talk now sweetheart. Those boxers are getting tight.

You look down at the huge bulge. Ohh.  He wasn't kidding... forgetting about the arguing, you caress his length through the thin fabric, and he release a deep growl. You slowly kiss his neck while sliding your hand in his underpants, feeling how his cock jumps at you touch, how heavy, and hot it is between your fingers.

You can barely close your fingers around it's girth.

— Told you you needed to be prepared... He expire between two heavy breath as you play with him.

You don't answer him. Because you can't deny he was telling the truth, and you don't want to flatter his already flattered ego.

— you planning on taking the boxers off at some point, doll ?

— Hmmm, you might need to say please...

— Fuck...

You squeeze harder on his shaft, and he moan.

— Okey, okey i guess I earned that ...please doll, take the fucking boxer off so I can ruin you pussy ?

Your entire body shudder, as you finally push the boxers down, letting his erection bounce to his stomach. Your hand slowly travels up and down his thickness, spreading the precum. You want to taste him. Want to know how much if him you can take in your mouth, in your throat, maybe he'll push your head down and make you take more, You look up at him, his head is thrown back, his eyebrows frowned and his mouth slightly opened. That's... beautiful. You want to see what he will look like when the head of his dick will hit the back of your throat.

— Fuck...i want you in my mouth, Bucky.

— Fuck ...I'm going to get cursed for missing this opportunity...fuck. no.

You have an obviously desapointed look on your face, as you keep slowly stroking him.

— Oh doll, don't play the puppy eyes on me. I want to see you choke to, but another time. Right now, come here, on top of me, so i can play with your perfect tits, and lower yourself on me.

You moan, excited to have it inside of you, You lift your hips and slowly, slowly move down.

— Ohh fuuuuuck.

The tip going inside of you is the most delightful feeling. It's heavenly.

You feel Bucky tense under you, he is trying to keep himself from moving with all his might. You devilishly decide to play a little more.

You sink few centimeters more, not even half way down, and then back up, then back few centimeters down, and you stop. Acting like you need more time to accommodate his size, even though you only have the tip in.

— oh Buckyyy,  you are Soo biiiig, you feel so goooood, you moan in a fake porn star voice.

He gets it, your playing with him

You know what they say about teasing ? It backfires.

— Oh really ? Then doll, why don't you take all my fucking cock, you.fucking.tease. and with that he grabs you hips and snap them down roughly.

The next moans that escape you mouth are everything but overplayed.

— Fuck Bucky...

— That's what you get for being a tease, now bounce, slowly, and everytime you stop, I'm going to spank that ass. Leave pretty hand prints on it, yeah ? Now, bounce.

For how long did it go ? You can't even say anymore.

— Oh ... sweetheart, your legs are shaking ? Well, to.fucking.bad. *SMACK* take it harder. Ohh sweetheart, i didn't mean harder like that, it's not enough for a tease like you, is it *SMACK* ? More like that, he says as he grab you hips and empale you on his cock, up and down, up and down, no breaks, you are not going fast enough for his liking? No problem, he bucks his hips up, meeting you halfway.

— What, you want to cum ? But no, you can't. Don't even think about it. *SMACK SMACK*

— Doll, look in my eyes, right, look at me, you are doing so good for me. Go slower, you can't cum just yet remember, go slower.

— Look at those beautiful nipples, you like when I suck on them, yeah ?

— Grab on my shoulders, kiss me.

— What ? Why did i spank you this time ? Because I wanted to sweetheart *SMACK*

— tomorrow there will be my handprints all over those pretty cheeks. *SMACK*

— sweetheart ? Let's take a break. Yes, sit down, no, no, keep me inside. Just sit down, you wanted to make love right? I think you know better then to tease me know ? Yeah ? Good girl. Keep me inside of you, let me wrap my hands around you, let's look at the storm, aren't we confortable like that ?

You looked at the storm. From time to time he's move slowly. Or you'd readjust to feel him. the pleasure was a slow burn.

You grabbed the wine bottle from the floor, and you shared what was left of it. From time to time between heated kisses and touches you or him would crack up a joke, a dirty comment or a philosophical one. You asked eachother how come not more best friends had sex like that ? It was the best feeling. You had nothing to prouve to each other, you had no expectations, you were just here to feel good. You kissed for what seemed like hours, sometimes open eyes, sometimes closed, sometimes heated kisses, tongue swirling and mixing breaths, sometimes just gentle pecks.

By the end, you were both on the verge of insanity. You needed to cum. Bucky was sweaty and struggling to keep control, his hands all over you, his breath heavy and his voice as desperate as yours.

— Okey, what do you think about fucking me now ? You propose, heavy breathing.

— We done with love making? Asks Bucky with the same tone.

— The storm calmed down, you reply with a smile.

— Fuck, finally. Get on you back doll, he orders.

You painfully got off him, your legs muscles were sore.

— you're an asshole

— and I'm going to make you cum, get over yourself, he replied, still finding in him the strength to keep up with you temperament, as he stands up before you, towering over you body. God the man is beautiful. What a sight.

he raises your legs and puts your feet on his shoulders.

— Ready ?

— More then FUCK.

You head throws back.

— Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He curses to as he pushes inside of you and immediately starts pounding. You really are crazy tight, fuck.

Your sounds of pleasure mix in the air, the room is full of the smell of sex. It feels soo good. No one can fuck you like that, no one can understand how you like it like he immediately does. And no one except you can make him confortable enough for him to fully enjoy the moment. You both have wicked mids which are always afraid of something, afraid of an inversible threat that is constantly around you, the only thing you trust, is each other.

— Bucky, bucky I'm going to cum, fuck fuck, Bucky !

— yeah ? You are going to cum on my cock, doll ? He fucks you harder is that's even possible, and his metal fingers go to your clit and furiously rub it. Say please.

— Fuck...Fuck off.

You didn't think he'd be capable to stop. But he did. immediately. Everything stopped.

— You are not going to fucking cum if you do not beg, I'm not backing off of this. You say please, Bucky, make me cum, please. Or i leave you like that.

— Oh my God are you...arggg your breath is taken away from you as he roughly snap his hips, pushing himself all the way in, as a warning.

— fine! Fine, please Bucky make me cum! Please!

He smiles, and start pounding and bullying your clit so much you might cry.

— see. What. Arggg, a fucking good girl you ...can be. let it go, doll, cum, cum around me, ohh god, your clenching Soo hard, you feel Soo fucking good, don't try to escape, keep cumming, keep fucking cumming, oh God I'm cumming to, oh god doll you feel Soo good, so good...

You scream and cry out, your orgasm dragging out as he keeps playing with your love button, and his cock twitchs inside of you as he spills his hot sperm deep inside you.

— oh fuck, doll Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He grunts and moan, and bite at your calf as he orgasms. And collapses on your chest. You hug him tightly, and you stay like that. Both panting.

They say it all ends with a happily ever after.

But maybe love story's always have to bring tragedy. They make us irrational, and some philosophs say that being in love brings the worst out of us, jealousy, insecurities, codependency...etc

What if the best love stories are friendship stories. And nothing says we can't spice them up a little, right?

They also say male/female friendship doesn't exist.

At the time you didn't fucking care what they said.

[mightysteelix]

Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

[songtoyou]

Chapter 6: Earned It

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,187

Warnings: This chapter is very smutty. Male receiving. Female receiving. Bondage. Flogging. 

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Tommy takes Rose back to his place after the gala for some fun and much-needed stress relief. He continues to pry more into Rose's personal life. 

A/N: I am still getting used to writing smut. I hope I did this chapter justice.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​

The drive to Tommy's home was quiet. Rose looked out the window as they entered the upscale London neighborhood. The homes were beautiful. Before Tommy pulled the car into his underground garage, Rose could make out the spacious townhouse. With the car in park, Rose stepped out and saw a full view of the other vehicles in the garage.

"Wow," she said, noting the different set of cars, which ranged from Audis to BMWs, to a Lexus. "You actually drive all of these cars?"

"The Audi is new. Haven't tested it out properly yet," Tommy shrugged and grabbed Rose's hand to lead her to the elevator that would take them up to the townhouse.

The main part of the home was exquisite. Tommy's tastes were immaculate. Everything was so elegant and fancy, from the furniture to the art on the wall.  However, Rose could tell that this wasn't a home that was "lived in" but rather that it was more for a show of Tommy's status and wealth. Everything was white and too clean. Nothing was out of place. It was all too designed. Nothing homey about Tommy's home, which didn't quite surprise Rose.

"Fancy something to drink before we start?" Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette. Rose turned to him and asked for a whisky, no ice. "Take a seat. I will be right back," he instructed Rose.

She sat on the couch and continued to look around the home. No family pictures insight, which was weird to Rose. With all its elegance and pageantry, this home was empty of any happiness or warmth.

When Tommy returned with their drinks, he sat down next to Rose on the couch. While Tommy practically downed his drink, Rose took small sips.

"Let's talk," spoke Tommy. It definitely was not a question but more of an order. He leaned back on the couch, and Rose repeated his actions.

"What do you want to talk about?" Rose asked, continuing to take small sips of her whiskey, which was really good. Unquestionably high-quality whiskey in Tommy's collection.

"You. If that is okay?"

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "What do you want to know about that you haven't looked into yourself?"

"Why did you leave Blackpool?"

"There was nothing there for me," Rose responded rather quickly, Tommy noted.

"Your parents still live in Blackpool," he noted. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Only child. I'm sure my parents wish they had more since I turned out to be such a disappointment. Not only did the Turners' only child have to get pregnant at sixteen, but she's a whore to boot. Yeah, they won that jackpot."

"Don't get down on yourself. You made a nice life for yourself and your son. Not many people can say that," Tommy reassured Rose.

"I guess so. This isn't exactly the career I had in mind, you know. I got…I needed a way to make a living without relying on my parents or Louis's father. The job I have at New City College never paid enough."

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. "What does your son think you do to bring in money? There is no way a part-time job as a program assistant at New City College provides enough."

"It doesn't. He thinks I work as a full-time Program Manager at the College. He will never find out what I actually do. Never. It would destroy him."

"What about your son's father? Is he still around?" Tommy inquired.

"He's around. Not much, but he stops by unannounced every so often. Louis's dad, Nick, keeps asking me to marry him. He's been asking since I got pregnant all those years ago," she revealed.

"Sounds noble of him. Why do you keep turning him down?"

"Because I don't love Nick, and he isn't exactly a good person. He has gotten into trouble. Petty crime. Some jail time. He says he has cleaned up his act, but I can't risk it, you know. Louis is still so attached to him. My son is the one I worry about getting his heart broken in all of this if his dad and I didn't work out. Which I already know we won't," Rose shared with Tommy. "You knew about Nick, didn't you? I mean, you looked into my life and my son's life. There is no reason why you wouldn't do the same to the man who got me pregnant at sixteen years old. You have too many assets to protect. You have this inquisitive need to know about everything and everyone to protect yourself. The last thing Tommy Shelby would ever want is to be blindsided. Am I right?"

Tommy downed the rest of his whiskey and loudly placed it on the coffee table with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Get undress," he ordered Rose cheekily and sat deep on the couch.

"Did I hit a nerve, Mr. Shelby?" Rose teased while starting with her shoes. "The questioning stops when I turn the tables on you, huh."

When Rose got her shoes off, she asked Tommy to help unzip the back of the dress. He did so but made sure to graze his hand against her back. 

With the dress off, Rose was standing in her fancy bra and underwear that Tommy purchased. He reached for Rose and guided her on his lap. Cupping Rose's breasts, Tommy gave them a hard squeeze and ran his hands down to her ass. Rose leaned in to capture Tommy's lips while running her own hands up his chest. She pulled off his suspenders and untucked his shirt.

"Just rip it off," Tommy ordered, "I can get a new one."

Ripping his shirt open, Rose tossed it off to the side. Tommy lifted his arms for Rose to take off his undershirt. Now completely shirtless, Rose began placing kisses all over Tommy's chest and grinding against his hard cock.

She got off his lap and got down on her knees. Rose unzipped his pants and reached inside for his cock. She began stroking it up and down and licked the precum off the tip. Tommy let out a moan that echoed throughout the room.

Soon, Rose engulfed his length into her mouth and began to bob her head up and down his shaft. It wasn't long before Tommy blew his load in her mouth, which she happily swallowed.

Before Rose could bring her mouth around him again, Tommy held her off.

"Wait," blurted Tommy while tucking himself back in his pants. For a moment, Rose was confused until Tommy mentioned taking it upstairs. She got off of the floor to him quickly and followed him. He led Rose into one of the several guest bedrooms. She saw her overnight bag in the corner. Tommy proceeded to lock the door, then close the blinds.

Reaching for Rose, Tommy wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his forehead against her own. "Tell me the words before we start?"

"Green for go. Yellow to slow down. Red for stop," Rose recited to Tommy.

"Don't ever hesitate to say Red or Yellow if anything becomes too much for you, yeah," Tommy uttered and unclipped Rose's bra and pulled down her underwear. "It has been a long day, love. I need to release all my pent-up stress and frustrations. Let me take it out on your beautiful body. Would you grant that wish, love?" Tommy asked. He wanted Rose's consent. He wanted to make sure she was okay with what he hand in store for her.

"Yes, Tommy. I consent," she replied and began to unbuckle his belt. However, Tommy stopped Rose and ordered her to the bed. She did just that and saw Tommy retreat to the closet.

When Tommy returned, he had a black duffle bag placed on the floor next to the bed. She saw he pulled out leather cuffs, a ball gag, and a Hitachi vibrator. He took cuffs and attached them to her wrists and ankles. He then got out some rope and tied each wrist to the headboard and the ankles to the end of the bed.

"You feel okay," Tommy asked, checking the ropes to make sure they were secure. "Use your words," he added when Rose only nodded her reply.

"I feel good," she answered while flexing her wrist and ankles in the cuffs to test them out.

Before Tommy got to the ball gag or Hitachi, he placed himself between Rose's legs and began rubbing his thumb along her clit. "It doesn't take much to get you wet, does it," he teased as Rose continued to grind against his thumb. He then leaned forward to trace his tongue along her folds.

The feeling of Tommy's tongue made Rose buck her hips off the bed. Tommy chuckled and used his free hand to place on her stomach to keep her in place.

When Rose was about to reach her peak, Tommy pulled away and wiped her residue from his face. She saw Tommy grab the Hitachi and bring it closer to her pussy. He spread her folds once again, placed the vibrator against her clit, and turned it on.

Starting in a low setting, Rose began moving along the vibrator to offset the sensation she felt. Whenever she was about the reach that sweet feeling of release, Tommy would pull the vibrator away. Rose would only groan in frustration. She knew Tommy was going to prolong her suffering for a while.

This continued until Rose started feeling tears sting her eyes. Tommy clicked off the vibrator once again and grabbed the extra rope that was nearby. He kept the vibrator on Rose's pussy but proceeded to tie it in place with the rope. He gave the sex toy a nice tug to make sure it stayed in place, then got off the bed. Tommy took the ball gag in his hands.

"Open," he directed Rose and placed the gag in her mouth. He secured it tightly around her head and ran his hand alongside her cheek, neck, and down to her breasts. He continued to roam her body until he reached the Hitachi and clicked it on. This time to a high setting.

"I need you to suffer for me, Rose. I need it. I crave it," Tommy began to say, "I'm going to allow you to have all the orgasms you want. I want to watch the tears stream down your face when it begins to hurt. I want to hear your muffled screams begging for me to turn the vibrator off. I want it all. So, I'm going to sit back and watch you suffer for me."

There was nothing Rose could do but endure all the pain and pleasure Tommy gave her. So, she lay there on the bed, restrained, gagged, and made to cum over and over while Tommy merely sat back and watched.

When the vibrator was switched back to its low setting, Rose opened her eyes to see Tommy standing by the bed. She could barely make out what was in his hand. It wasn't until Rose felt a stinging sensation on her stomach that she realized it was a flogger. A leather flogger from the looks of it. Tommy kept bringing it down across her breasts, stomach, thighs, and legs. He did this repeatedly, and all Rose could do was endure it.

Tommy loved the way Rose's body squirmed under the vibrator and now the flogger.

"So pretty," he said while tracing the deep red marks along her body. "Like beautiful ribbons all along your body."

After a few more hits with the flogger, Tommy put it away and upped the speed on the vibrator once again.

Rose couldn't tell how much time had passed, but by her fifth or was it sixth orgasm, everything hurt.

"That's it, love. You're almost done. I need one more out of you," Tommy encouraged as he caressed Rose's cheek while wiping away the tears. "You're doing so good," he added.

By the final orgasm, Rose let out a loud, muffled scream. Tommy turned off the vibrator, and she passed out on the bed. He took out the ball gag from Rose's mouth and wiped the excess drool from her chin. Tommy untied the vibrator from Rose's leg and unhooked the cuffs from her ankles and wrists. He began to rub back the circulation in her joints slowly. He then gently rubbed an herbal balm cream on the areas he flogged to help the irritated skin. The feeling of the cream being rubbed into her skin was soothing for Rose as she continued to lie on the bed and get her breathing under control. The session was intense but pleasurable for her. She hadn't felt that good in a long time. Yeah, it hurt, but it was a good hurt.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked, lying down next to Rose and wrapped his arms around her. She slowly turned more towards him to tuck herself closer to his chest.

"Good. Tired," Rose managed to say.

"Rest now, love. You've earned it."

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - Dodge and Parry (Rated NC17)

Summary: Crowley discovers that he is rather enamored of his angel's bruises ... especially the ones that go farther than skin deep. (2006 words)

Notes: I wrote this for Kinktober 2020, the prompt 'bruises'. So I was going to write a piece about bruise worship, which this sort of is, but it went much deeper. I will try to come up with something kinkier and more fun another time XD

Read on AO3.

“How does that feel, angel?” Crowley asks, soaking his washcloth completely, then wringing it out over Aziraphale’s scalp. “Too hot? Too cold?”

“Neither.” Aziraphale hums happily with eyes shut. “It’s perfect. Sublime, I should say. Like soaking in a nice, warm cup of tea.”

“We’ve added enough dried flowers and wot not that you could just be,” Crowley comments, swiping a hand through the water, swatting at a cluster of rose petals, lavender, sweet jasmine, and chamomile.

“Hmm. Then you could drink me,” Aziraphale says, sinking deeper into the steaming water.

“Ngk … I … I could …” Crowley stumbles, but he recovers, a triumph since that remark from his angel almost had him choking on his tongue. “But let’s save the sweet stuff for later, eh? We’ve gotta get you fixed up.”

“Yes … let’s. Then … I can do you …” Aziraphale mumbles, drifting off, his cheeks rosy from the warmth and the company. Crowley soaps up his cloth and runs it over Aziraphale’s arm, sliding past a mark that has blossomed considerably since he last saw it. He runs the cloth over it again and it seems to darken, the cream-colored suds rinsing into cloudy water and revealing a plethora of purples swirled together, related to one another by hues, tiny freckles sprouting along the fringe like shy violets.

A galaxy of them really.

Crowley isn’t normally fond of scars and bruises, especially on his angel. Aziraphale bears many types of blacks and blues, with varied stories behind them. Older scars on Aziraphale’s corporation - ones following mortal paths and having faded to silver - come by way of other angels who delight in his suffering. Crowley has seen every one of those, categorized their existence, set their placements to memory. A touch of his fingertips tells him when they were created … and by whom.

Crowley has gathered a list of enemies on his angel’s behalf, and that list is long.

Very long.

Not all of angel’s bruises are visible to the naked, mortal eye, but they’ve dimmed his aura considerably.

Crowley never thought the humans’ quarantine would get to Aziraphale. Being locked inside, forbidden to go out and socialize, leaving him heaps of time to read his books, seemed like a dream come true. With no one coming into his shop to browse, there was nothing keeping him from doing his crossword puzzles till his heart’s content. And it seemed that way for the first few months.

But it didn’t stay that way.

More and more, Crowley would catch his angel sitting in a chair by the window, staring up at the sky, sighing deeply as if for a long lost love, which seemed utterly preposterous to Crowley since every book Aziraphale could ever want lay in a stack beside him. Aside from that, he had his music. And cake! Why, they’d been baking cake every single day! So much cake, in fact, that any poor soul who so much as poked their head out of their door received a cardboard baker’s box packed to bursting with confections, passed along at a socially safe distance courtesy of a long, wooden shepherd’s crook.

And thanks to a wonderful service with a mildly vulgar name, whenever Aziraphale so desired, a delivery person dropped by with a box of his favorite sushi, which Crowley generously tipped for.

But Aziraphale still wasn’t happy. And he was becoming less happy by the day.

Something had changed.

He mentioned several times to Crowley that he felt hemmed in; that lately, being locked inside made it difficult for him to breathe. He longed to walk through the park, soak in the sunshine (when it made itself available), and feed the ducks again.

Crowley didn’t understand it. Aziraphale despised exercise to such a degree that if he sat at Crowley’s kitchen table, preparing to sup, and discovered that he’d left the butter in the fridge, he’d rather do without then to get up and fetch it.

It wasn’t until days later, when Crowley found a stack of newspaper clippings hiding underneath Aziraphale’s ledger, that he began to catch on:

Covid cases increase rapidly as next steps planned

'Tier Three' Covid restrictions in announcement on Monday

More than 80% of positive UK cases in study had no core symptoms

It wasn’t the toll quarantine was taking on Aziraphale. It was the toll this disease that caused the need for a quarantine was taking on the humans he was so fond of. That time spent staring at the sky, Aziraphale spent praying, wondering why the Almighty would let this continue, let so many of Her beloveds die and for what?

From the expression on his angel’s face after, Crowley assumed he got no answers.

It was like the Ark all over again, only without the refreshing rain, and with no rainbow in sight.

Determined to take his mind off of it, Crowley arranged a private movie marathon for his angel at his flat. They sat on his sofa with homemade snacks and watched some old Errol Flynn movies. And it worked! After a while, Crowley started watching Aziraphale more than the film, his angel that much more entertaining. Aziraphale had started the way he watched every movie - sitting primly upright, hands folded in his lap, eyes glued to the screen. But over time, he’d started to inch forward, lean in, muscles twitching to recreate the fight scenes - the swipes of a sword, the parries, his feet shuffling enthusiastically in place to mimic the steps of the actors’ retreats like they were performing a gavotte.

Encouraged that this was a way to break through Aziraphale’s melancholy, Crowley recommended they dig out the old fencing foils and have at it, sans protective gear in honor of old Errol. Besides, they didn’t need it.

“Oh! No, no, no!” Aziraphale argued at first, even with a smile on his lips. “I couldn’t! It’s been so long!”

“Nonsense!” Crowley retorted, heading for his closet. “You were an expert swordsman centuries ago. I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully now. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

“And how’s that, dear?”

“Once you fall off, you get right back on.” Crowley tossed Aziraphale a foil, which he caught without looking, and Crowley smirked knowingly.

Crowley didn’t give Aziraphale a chance to back out, didn’t salute him like at the beginning of an official duel. Crowley came at him like a buccaneer, crowing and catching Aziraphale off-guard. But Aziraphale fought back. He wasn’t upset by Crowley’s abrupt start. On the contrary. He laughed at Crowley’s antics, especially when he tried to evade by climbing over the sofa, and then onto an end table. His joy was infectious. It rang through Crowley’s flat, made the plants (which had initially recoiled at the sound of clashing metal) stand straighter, wave their leaves and cheer. It rose up inside Crowley as if the joy were his own, making him laugh, too.

Laugh till he snorted, which he hadn’t done in a long time.

But it didn’t last as long as Crowley had hoped.

Aziraphale got lost somewhere in the fight, lost in thinking, his mind drifting in all directions while he dodged and parried by rote. His face grew tense, his expression morphing from concentration to anger … to vengeance. He went after Crowley with clouded eyes, as if everything pent up inside him - the sadness and the anxiety - had found a weak spot in Aziraphale’s armor.

And now, it was starting to break through.

Crowley didn’t know who Aziraphale saw when he looked at him. Those world leaders who didn’t take this pandemic seriously, who didn’t act quick enough, who were greedy.

Beelzebub and the Dukes of Hell, whom Aziraphale credited for the speed in which this disease took hold, and the blind, stubborn stupidity of those who refused to do their part to stop it.

Gabriel, who has long since laughed off any correspondence Aziraphale has sent him regarding the matter, rejecting the last dozen with a very snarky ‘Return to sender!’ emblazoned in gold across the envelope.

Or the Almighty, who has the power to stop this but who has refused, and doesn’t have the decency to tell him why.

Or maybe he simply saw Crowley, who treated the whole thing like a joke, not only taking a nap for the first few months but then extending it, leaving Aziraphale alone when he might have needed him most.

Aziraphale attacked, closing in on Crowley fast, fighting with more fist than blade, and Crowley defended.

They struck one another at the same time - Aziraphale bringing his wrist down on the bridge of Crowley’s nose, Crowley’s guard-covered fist coming up to block and accidentally clocking Aziraphale on the jaw.

Both stumbled back, seeing stars.

Had they been human, Crowley’s nose would have broken, and Aziraphale’s jaw would have shattered. As was, Crowley’s nose ended up a bit crooked till a minute ago when Aziraphale snapped his fingers and set it straight. Aziraphale’s jaw still sported an indigo bruise reminiscent of a mum.

“Oh … oh my dear boy! I am so sorry!” Aziraphale apologized profusely when he saw Crowley’s nose, blood pooling underneath.

“Wot?” Crowley sniffed, wiping his Cupid’s bow with the back of his hand, examining the stain left behind with swimming eyes. “Oh, this? It’s nothing. Barely a scratch. Think nothing of it.”

“But … but …” Aziraphale stuttered, on the verge of tears. He dropped his sword, almost dropped to his knees, too, but Crowley hurried forward and gathered him up, wrapped him in his arms and held him.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, hugging Aziraphale tight. “It’s going to be all right, angel.”

“Do you … do you really think so?”

“Yes,” Crowley said with a sigh. Whether he did or not didn’t actually matter. But no one, angel or human, was going to get through today and on to the next if they didn’t believe it was at least possible. Crowley had to hold Aziraphale together, even if he did it with lies. He had to keep the one angel left on earth who still cared going. “I do.”

That’s when Aziraphale’s tears began to fall.

Crowley held him.

An hour went by, and Crowley held him.

Crowley declared Aziraphale the winner, and as a reward, offered to give him a bath and miracle him healed.

But when he got his angel naked and saw the bruises glowing on his skin, he hesitated. He shouldn’t be attracted to them. He shouldn’t find them appealing. On top of being physical damage to Aziraphale’s skin, some of them were bred out of despair. They should have repulsed Crowley, but they were actually glorious, like a small corner of impressionist art brought to life and tattooed on his skin.

Because not all of these new bruises, exploding with vibrant color and depth, were bad. They happened when Aziraphale was still smiling, still laughing. When his leg banged the corner of a table during a particularly rowdy retreat. When he tried to follow Crowley vaulting over the back of the sofa, misstepped, and landed on his knee. When their foils tangled together and Crowley accidentally kicked Aziraphale in the thigh in his effort to separate them. Aziraphale had watched Crowley fly backward, land on his heel, and spin three times like a ballerina, stopping in a perfect arabesque, just to then trip over air and land in a chair. Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed so hard, he walked right into Crowley’s (blunted) sword, the flat tip leaving its circular shadow behind.

Those bruises …

Those are bruises of pleasure.

They run deeper than skin.

And Crowley is quite satisfied by that.

Crowley almost regrets his promise to rid Aziraphale of them.

But being the one who gets to heal Aziraphale is an honor all its own.

However, he realizes with a grin, there is a way to get them back.

He’ll memorize these, too. Their exact locations.

And freshen them up later with his mouth.

[the-wlw-cafe]

Jet Lagged (Lena Luthor x Reader)

Request: 53 (”it’s lonely here without you”) and 57 (”is that my shirt?”) with domestic fluffy Lena and reader. R is away somewhere for business and Lena is hit with the missing Reader hours. Lena face times or skypes R and they chat. Lovesick Lena, please. Maybe Reader finally comes back home and cue koala girlfriend Lena.

Fandom: Supergirl

Warning: The insinuation of smut, but nothing actually happens in this story.

Words: 1263

You’re awoken from your slumber by the oh-so-familiar melody of an incoming skype call. You lift your head and rub at your cheeks where you can feel the imprint left behind by your keyboard – you must have dozed off trying to get to the bottom of your insurmountable heap of work related e-mails again. You let out a frankly massive yawn, quickly check the time – it’s 4 am, who calls at 4am?! – and then let your gaze swerve to the notification at the bottom of your screen.

You and Lena have been together for almost two years now, and your heart still hasn’t stopped missing a beat whenever you see her, or even just her name on a little skype notification. You’re still as hopelessly in love as you were on your first date (and, to be honest, at least a year or so before that). Your exhaustion vanishes into thin air immediately as the familiar giddiness takes over. You accept the call.

“Lena, what are you doing up so late?” you start asking, and immediately feel stupid as you see the warm orange light of the sunset filter through her window, bathing your girlfriend in a warm glow. Oh right, time zones. They exist.

“I’m sorry darling, did I wake you?”, she asks, uncharacteristically bashful. You’re taken over by a desire to pull her into your arms and never ever let her go again so intense you actually fear you might start crying any second.

“Well, proven by the waffle-face I’ve got going on”, you joke, gesturing at the imprints you can still feel on the left side of your face, “I was having an impromptu nap on my lapto- hey, is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

You see just a hint of red appear on her cheeks, and you’re pretty sure it has nothing to do with the intense glow of National City dusk. You feel so privileged, getting to see this side of her – not that all of her sides aren’t beautiful, you love strict and sexy boardroom Lena just as much as genius scientist Lena, but this one, cosy evenings Lena, feels special somehow. Private. A side of Lena only you get to see.

“It still smells like you”, she confesses, toying with the buttons. “I just – I missed you so much, I had to see your face. I’ll let you get back to sleep now, I’m sorry for waking you up.”

You see her reach for the touchpad of her laptop, presumably to close the call, so you react quickly.

“No, baby, I missed you too. So much. Let’s stay up a bit longer.”

You see Lena’s hand hover over the touchpad indecisively for one or two seconds, before she retreats it and flashes you a brilliant smile. “But not too long, love.”

You lift your fist and extend a pinkie. “Not too long, pinkie promise.” The resulting giggle you manage to draw out of her instantly becomes your favourite sound in the whole world.

“You’re such a child”, she laughs, shaking her head.

“But you miss me.”

“Terribly. It’s lonely here without you. Kara is trying so hard to cheer me up, but National City just isn’t the same when you’re not here.”

You immediately get what she’s talking about – as excited as you were for the opportunity to work in London for a few weeks, the city quickly lost its appeal after it became clear that Lena wouldn’t be able to accompany you. “Only two more weeks left, baby, and then I’ll come home to you. I can’t wait until I get to kiss you again.”

Her eyes brighten at the thought, a mischievous mirth crossing her features. “I can’t say I haven’t missed that as well, love”, she purrs, her voice dropping an octave deeper in a way that immediately raises your pulse.

“Behave”, you chuckle. “Don’t start anything you’re not prepared to finish.”

“You should really get some sleep”, she says. “Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not a doctor of medicine.”

“Yet”, she challenges playfully. “No more changing the topic. You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Catching your reflection in the webcam just as you try to stifle a yawn, you have to agree with her.

“Good night, darling. Sweet dreams.” She blows you a kiss. You pretend to catch it in your palm and press it against your heart.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

You honestly want to stay up talking to her, like a lovesick teenager on a school night, but your common sense tells you otherwise. Only two more weeks, you remind yourself. I can do this.

You know your girlfriend usually hates surprises, but when given the opportunity to take an earlier plane home and arrive about 5 hours earlier in National City than originally planned, well…let’s just say the decision process wasn’t very long. Despite the jet lag you find it impossible to sit still in the back seat of the uber, so you shift in your seat with all your pent up energy, pointedly ignoring the worried looks the driver shoots you every now and then. You tip him generously as you almost stumble over your feet in your hurry to get back to your girlfriend.

You startle Frank, Lena’s night shift security guard, who’s guilty expression immediately tells you he’s been using the computer for minesweeper again.

“Oh, Miss (Y/L/N), I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow!”

“Me neither, Frank, it came as a surprise to all of us.”

“Well, Miss (Y/L/N), I’d bet my last dollar that it’s going to be a very welcome surprise for Miss Luthor”, he winks.

You spend the elevator ride nervously pulling and prodding at your clothes, your efforts of looking halfway presentable for your girlfriend go out the window when you discover the coffee stain under your collar – that’s what you get for trying to enjoy a coffee on the plane. You ring the doorbell.

“Who’s there?” Lena sounds wary. No wonder, you think, nothing good has ever come of unannounced guests after midnight. Well, nothing good except you, you hope.

“Surprise?”, you say, and that’s about as far as you get before the door is flung open and you find yourself wrapped into a full-on koala hug by your girlfriend.

“I take it you’re glad I’m home?”, you giggle and press a kiss against her temple. Lena pulls back just enough to take your face in her hands, caressing it as though she was making sure you were really here. Her smile is wide, genuine, sweet. “You have no idea, darling”, she murmurs, before pulling you into a deep kiss.

You barely manage to maneuver the two of you back into the apartment, it’s hard to make your form coherent thoughts when Lena has one hand in your hair, pulling teasingly, and the other at your hip, pressing you into her. When you finally break apart, you’re both out of breath.

“I can’t believe you’re really here. I’ve waited so long for this”, Lena breathes, her hands moving to unbutton your shirt.

You try to reply, but instead a gigantic yawn forces its way past your lips. “I have the mother of all jet lags”, you admit sheepishly. “Honestly, I just need to get these shoes off and sleep for a week. Now don’t pout”, you say, quickly pressing a kiss to her ruby red lips, “and come cuddle instead.”

You don’t have to tell her twice.

“I missed this more than anything”, you hear her mumble against your collarbone, before blissful sleep finally takes you.

[malopascal]

Fear of happiness

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Warning(s): none

“I really am not good at this” Javier started, taking one last drag from his cigarette before crashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table in front of his couch you were sitting on. The smoke he exhaled was long, the tension in both of your bodies still very present as the tension started to thicken in the room.

With a quick and shy glance towards your friend and colleague, you couldn’t help but be in awe of how the bright street lights coming from his window put a beautiful glow on his handsome, but somber looking face. The DEA agent’s mind was clearly clouded with too many thoughts, but the main issue was that he couldn’t vocalize them.

 A soft sigh escaped your lips, your head turned back towards the tv. It wasn’t turned on, but you couldn’t help but pretend to be mesmerized by the black screen as your emotions overwhelmed you and you desperately tried to find something to focus on “Please say something else” you begged. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest, you were desperate for this conversation to be over, whether you’d leave his apartment with what you desired the most, or not.

 “What do you want me to say, [Y/N]?” Javier whispered, he turned his whole body in your direction and gently placed two fingers beneath your chin, gently making you look at him. His eyes showed nothing but concern but also love, you could get lost forever in those delicate brown eyes of his.

 His gentle touch made your heart skip several beats, your throat drying up while you couldn’t help but think of the reason how the two of you had gotten yourselves into this situation in the first place.

 You had let your emotions get the best of you and finally had succumbed to your romantic feelings towards Javier. What had started as a tiny crush years ago, had turned into a love you had never experienced, but you didn’t even think about mixing business with pleasure. You had told yourself to push down your feelings for your DEA colleague and focus on your job; taking down Pablo Escobar.

 Some days were easier to push away your feelings for Javier due to him sleeping around with prostitutes or his female informants. Being his neighbor didn’t help either, having to come home after a long day and craving nothing but his touch and attention, but then having to hear the sex sounds bouncing from his wall to yours only set you in a state of bitterness and despair.

 You tried to drink the pain away, thought that maybe finding a random person to hook up with would make you get rid of your love for Javier. But whenever you were close to get physically intimate with someone, you pulled away and ended up sending them home or leaving their place with the crappiest excuse you could come up with in that moment.

 You hated how much power Javier had over you by simply existing.

 But other days were easier to ignore him, the jealousy of his hookups getting the best of you and resulting in you pushing him away while working. Your attitude drove him to the point where he preferred to work in another room and leave you and Murphy by yourselves, not understanding your mean and cold attitude towards him.

 The days where he had to be out in the field also gave you a break from all those pent-up emotions you were constantly pushing down deep inside you. You always feared that he’d come back hurt but Javier knew how to defend himself, so just seeing him walk into the office to write his report late into the night while you wrapped up your final report, had you let out a soft and relieved sigh before finishing your work.

 But the hardest part was also being his friend, his confidant and first person he ran to when he needed to calm down from whatever was troubling your mind. Not being able to kiss him, tell him that better days are ahead or simply desiring to occupy his mind for just a few hours, killed you. But you never dared to show him how you felt….

 Ten minutes ago.

 All those bottled up sensations and emotions had finally gotten to you. One second you were getting dressed from your shower, the next you were knocking on Javier’s door, love and lust coursing through your body. The plan was to try to see if you could seduce him, but the second he opened the door with bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down his face, your mood shifted.

 “I’ve loved you for years” was what you had blurted out instead of asking what was troubling him. The shocked expression on his face set you in a state of fear and before your mind could tell you what to do next, Javier had leaned in and pressed a tender kiss against your lips before gently pulling you into his apartment.

  “[Y/N]” Javier’s voice snapped you out of the flashback, you cleared your throat and put your focus back on him again.

 “I want you to tell me if you reciprocate my love for you, Javi” the words left your lips in a hushed mumble, your stomach churning in great distress. Talking about your feelings had always been a struggle for you too, but right now you needed clear answers.

 “Do you love me, Javi?” you gently removed his hand that still was lingering on your face and stared deeply into his eyes, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear the words coming from his lips.

 He let out a soft sigh and frowned deeply, “I-I do, [Y/N]. I love you, I don’t know when my feelings for you started blooming but they did….”

 Your lips immediately curled into a bright smile, all the stress and anxiety leaving your body and feeling your shoulders straighten up. Your whole mood shifted and you couldn’t voice the joyous feelings coursing through your body.

 Without a further world you wrapped your arms around Javier’s neck and pressed your lips against his, sighing softly when his started moving passionately against yours. His quickly pulled you on top of him, straddling his lap while his hands gently caressed your back and shoulders.

 Your heart swelled and fluttered in your chest, you had never felt such a deep and intense love. It was overwhelming yet kept you humble and sane. Your head went blank and all you could do was try to focus on continuing kissing the love of your life.

 “[Y/N], wait” Javier panted in between the kiss, pulling away from your lips and shaking his head when you tried to lean in for another kiss. “What’s wrong?”.

 “We can’t together”.

 Your body froze at those words. Your eyes didn’t stop staring deeply into his while he gently pushed you off him. A big lump formed itself in your throat, you could heart your pounding heartbeat in your ear while you tried to wrap your head around what just had happened.

 No words left your lips as you turned your body towards the tv screen again, silence filled Javier’s apartment and he despised it. The tension had thickened again, your body language gave your emotions away; you didn’t dare to look at him, your arms were folded on your chest and your jaw tensed.

 “[Y/N], our job is dangerous…I-I can’t risk you becoming my weakness while trying to take out the most dangerous person on earth” the DEA agent tried to explain, the lies filling your ears as you knew the real reason of his rejection.

 “No” you whispered, your heart shattering in your chest and the pain making it hard for you to put on a strong act. You quickly got to your feet and walked over to the front door, the gut wrenching pain only intensifying when seeing that Javier didn’t even try to put on a fight for you.

 The door already had been opened, a part of you ready to go back to your apartment and cry your eyes out. But the other part screaming at you that you at least deserve any type of closure.

 With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heels and saw Javier staring at you from the couch, the heartbreak evident in his eyes but he didn’t dare to stop you.

 “You know damn well that we could make it work, but the stupid fear of allowing happiness in your life is holding you back. We both know it…No need to try and feed me lies, Javier Peña”.

 And with that you walked out of his apartment, not seeing the tears forming in his eyes as he knew that you had seen right through him.

   ~~~

Thanks for reading!

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 7

A/N: Here’s Part 7 of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021 of @pedrohub​! The #ppaw2021 theme of Day 6 is Pedro + Free Choice. I’d rather not say anything more about the conclusion to this little story.

To @pedrocentric​ and the few folks who have followed this story, here’s the last part. Thank you for liking my story! I hope you enjoyed this little yarn! (But, now, I need to get back to work.)

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Seven

With a heavy sigh, Pedro tossed the script he was reviewing on top of the table. Who was he kidding? He already memorized his lines and knew them by heart. 

For the umpteenth time, he glanced at his bags, all packed up and ready for his flight to London very early tomorrow morning. This was his last day of shooting on The Mandalorian. The makeup artist had already applied the fake blood for the scene where his helmet will be removed. But, if he were to be honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave. Nothing would make him happier than to have even a few precious offscreen minutes with the Child.

Ever since that infamous ‘Baby Snatching Incident’, Pedro no longer pursued his desire for more quality time with Grogu. He just didn’t have the energy to deal with Werner’s eccentric behavior anymore. If he wanted the Child to himself, fine. At least, with his character having perished through Mando’s blaster in Season 1, any further appearances in Season 2 was unlikely.

The past couple of days, Pedro distanced himself from the German filmmaker and the baby, but it always broke his heart to hear Grogu’s sad, questioning whines whenever he was in the vicinity. Every time this happened, he would head straight back to his trailer and lock the door.

One evening, Werner was about to walk past Pedro’s closed door, as he headed for his own trailer. He heard the old man say, “What is wrong, little baby? Why have you become so silent now, so unresponsive? Is it because...of him?” 

Werner paused at Pedro’s doorstep. From his seat opposite the door, Pedro listened to those soft tentative knocks, but he didn’t move to open it. From the windows, he saw Werner trudge off, shaking his head sadly.

Pedro buried his face in his hands to stem the flow of tears from his eyes. It’s only a few hours left. I can deal with this.

But as he lifted his head, Pedro saw Werner walking by. Quietly, he peered outside his window. The German filmmaker was leaving, that much was obvious, judging from the small suitcase he held in his left hand. What caused his eyes to widen in alarm was the sight of the little green figure with unmistakable large ears cradled in the crook of his right arm.

“No!” Pedro gasped, as he raced for the door. “No, you’re not taking him away!”

Emerging from his trailer, because his eyes were focused on that departing figure, Pedro didn’t see the props men carrying a large piece of plywood. 

As he made to run after Werner, BAM! 

“Oh my God! Are you alright, sir?” 

“His nose is bleeding! Get a medic now!”

Although his vision was red from the pain, Pedro ignored the panicked props men and hurried to the Volume, clutching his aching nose which was bleeding from a cut on the nasal bridge where he had collided with the plywood. As he entered the studio, there were shocked cries from everyone at the sight of him.

But Pedro went straight to Jon and Dave. “You must stop him!” he cried desperately. “He’s running away with the baby!”

“Who--” Jon stuttered as the blood from Pedro’s nose dripped on his arm.

“Werner! He’s taking the baby away from me! Please don’t let him get away! PLEASE!”

After that, there was a huge flurry of activity around him. Dizzy and in pain, the only word that registered inside his head from all that shouting was “hospital”. 

“No, I can’t! No hospital! Grogu...please…”

And then, there was nothing but darkness.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Pedro woke up, he was at the hospital. Sitting up from the gurney in the Emergency Room, he reached up to his nose, grimacing as he felt the seven stitches. Thankfully, there was no pain, which meant that the local anesthetic the doctor injected him with was still working.

Before he could call a nurse so he could leave and get back on set, the curtains surrounding his gurney slid open and Werner went inside, pulling them shut again.

“Jon told me what happened to you,” Werner began hesitantly. “I never had the Child with me. I left him with Dave in the Volume. What you saw me carrying was a maquette of the baby, a little...souvenir.”

Pedro was no longer able to hold back his pent up emotions. “I give up, Werner. You don’t need to leave the set. You can have the baby all to yourself. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. He’s all yours!” 

Lowering his head, Pedro let his bitter tears flow freely, his body shaking with his sobs. He didn’t care what the other man thought of him. For a few minutes, Pedro wept, letting all the hurt and pain gush out of him.

When his sobs finally subsided, he lifted his gaze, expecting the German filmmaker to be gone. But Werner still stood before him, tears glimmering in his eyes as well.

“I am sorry,” Werner said in all sincerity. “I know that these words may be insufficient or difficult to believe, but I am truly sorry for all the pain I caused you.”

“Why, Werner? Why did you do this to me? Did I offend you in any way?”

“I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

“Misty told me that you have a good reason. I want to hear it.”

Werner breathed in deeply. “I grew attached to the baby, I will admit that much. But the first time we met, the very first time that you saw the Child, I could see that you saw it as nothing more than a cute puppet, a novelty. You also said that you will only be filming one episode for this season, and it happens to be the last one. How can you project the image of a good father if you won’t be a part of the development of both your characters?” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! You could’ve given me the opportunity to bond with the baby, but you kept on hogging him to yourself!”

“It had been my intent to deprive you of the baby in order for you to recognize its value as your own child and also your own worth as a potential parent for it.” Werner’s lips pouted. “It’s a difficult lesson I learned from meddling in-laws, and I was playing that part with you. Nevertheless, I saw early on that you possessed that paternal instinct, perhaps because of your experience in caring for your sister’s children. In the end though, my good intentions turned sour because I became jealous.” 

“Jealous? Jealous of what?”

“Oh, Pedro!” Werner exclaimed as he sat down beside the distraught younger man. “Surely you have noticed the little miracle that has been going on around you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have heard the murmurings from the cast and crew, I’m sure. How the Child would move on its own and make sounds that it is incapable of doing.” 

Pedro shook his head. “It’s the puppeteers working him in the background. I used to call them the ‘Child’s Entourage’. I saw how they made the baby move whenever you’re together.”

“Ah, but it is not the case with the two of you. When it is alone with me or anyone else in the cast and crew, the baby is just an ordinary doll. But not with you, Pedro, NEVER WITH YOU!” 

Werner gripped his arms tightly. “I accused you once of not being able to commit to the fantasy of your being his father.” A broad smile formed on Werner’s face. “Instead, the Child committed himself to your reality, so that he can be a real baby to you! The Child is alive, Pedro, because of you! Best of all, you have reacted to him in both words and deeds. In the past few days, I saw how much you cared for the baby, how much you loved him. The kind of love that only a real father can give.”

The German filmmaker straightened up. Brushing his tears away with the back of his hand, he said proudly, “Go to that beautiful baby, Pedro.” Werner gave him a wink. “Be a father to him. Consider it as practice for when you decide to have a real family someday.” 

* * * * * * * * * *

As soon as Pedro returned to the set, he was immediately met by Jon who said in concern, “I think you should rest today. I could call up Warner Bros. to explain that you had an accident here. It’s just a one day delay.” 

“I agree with Jon,” Dave concurred with his fellow producer and director. “You really should take it easy.”

“No, I’m fine,” Pedro reassured him. “Let’s make the most of this,” he gestured to his injured nose. “It makes my injuries more authentic.”

“Are you sure?” Gina asked.

“You don’t have to force yourself if you don’t feel up to it,” Carl put in as well.

“I’m okay.” Pedro’s eyes fell upon the tiny figure in puppeteer Mike Manzel’s arms. “I’m sure Grogu would want us to go through this scene together.” 

Jon nodded and patted Pedro’s shoulder. “You’re a trooper, man.” Turning to the assembled crew, he declared, “The baby is Number One on the call sheet today. So let’s take the time to do that right. Let’s give ourselves plenty of footage.”

Mike set the Child down on the floor, the guiding rods attached to his arms and hands. 

“Remove those things, Mike,” Pedro called out to the puppeteer. “Let Grogu do it on his own. He knows what to do.”

“But, he can’t…”

“Trust me.”

There was a brief pause and then Mike removed the rods. As he took a step backward away from the puppet, to everyone’s astonishment, Grogu slowly turned his head toward Pedro, a questioning look on his face. Mike turned to his fellow puppeteers, who shook their heads and laid down their controls. 

“Did Dave and Jon show you what to do, Grogu?” Pedro asked the little creature.

Grogu smiled and cooed in assent.

Pedro looked at Taika whose mouth was as wide as a fish’s. “He’s all yours, Taika.” Putting on the helmet that was handed to him by a props guy, he then sat down on the floor, laying his body over a piece of panelling, with Gina hovering over him.

At those words, the director snapped back to attention. “Okay, let’s have the Incinerator Trooper walk into the cantina, ready to blast away our heroes with a flamethrower. The Child will then use the Force to hold back the flames and then, with a flick of his hand, send the fire back to the trooper. Ready...ACTION!”

Everybody watched breathlessly as the filming of the scene commenced. To their amazement, Grogu followed Taika’s instructions, turning his little head at the sounds of gunfire and explosions. When the Incinerator Trooper appeared, he took tiny steps forward, placing himself in front of Pedro. As the extra went into the motions of firing the flamethrower, Grogu closed his eyes and raised both arms. His whole body trembled as he pretended to hold back raging flames. At Taika’s signal, he flicked his hand, and the extra was yanked outside the building with a cable as though he were thrown back by the resulting blast.

Then, it was Pedro’s turn. As the helmet was lifted from his head, he began to breathe rapidly, his face projecting his fear and vulnerability as he gazed at the prop that served as the robot, IG-11.

“You have suffered damage to your central processing unit,” Taika intoned for IG-11 from his director’s chair. 

“You mean my brain,” Pedro told the robot. To which the robot replied, “That was a joke. It is meant to put you at ease.” When Pedro raised both eyebrows as the ending to the scene, Taika called, “Cut! Perfect!”

As Pedro was helped to his feet, he immediately looked for Grogu. He found the Child lying down on the floor, motionless and utterly devoid of life.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was late in the evening when Pedro emerged from his trailer with his trusty backpack slung over his back. His flight for London was leaving in two hours.

Entering the Volume, he saw that the crew were still working, preparing for the next day’s filming. The puppeteers were sitting around the puppet, checking its mechanics.

“Guys, may I have a moment alone with the kid?” Pedro asked politely.

The puppeteers smiled and nodded, standing up in unison and heading off toward one of the set pieces to talk.

Pedro knelt before the pram and smiled at the baby. “I guess this is goodbye for now, Grogu. But I promise you, the next time I’m here, we’ll have more time to spend with each other. Would you like that?” 

But the Child didn’t respond. He just stared blankly at him through those round, brown eyes.

“I know you’re alive, Grogu,” Pedro whispered conspiratorially. “I want you to do a little something for me before I go. I want you to call me by my name. Pedro. You can do it, I know it. Pe-dro. Come on.”

To Pedro’s delight, the baby’s head moved, his sweet eyes blinked up at him. His tiny lips parted and quivered to reveal the cutest teeth.

“Come on, Grogu. Pe-dro. Pe-dro.”

For a long moment, the Child just moved his lips as if testing those two syllables. 

“Pe...dro.”

“Patu!”

That high pitched exclamation caused everybody in the room to stare at them in wonder and disbelief.

“What did you say?” 

“Patu!” 

“No, it’s Pedro. Repeat after me. Pe…” 

“Peeee…”

“...dro.”

Silence as the Child tried to pronounce that last syllable. Unable to get through the “dr” sound, Grogu spritzed a raspberry.

“Pe…”

“Peeeeee…”

“...dro.”

“PATU!” 

Pedro grimaced at that baby version of his name. “Really? Is that what you want to call me?”

“PATU! PATU! PATU!” Grogu cheered gleefully, clapping his little hands.

Turning to the assembled crew members, Pedro said with great pride, “You see that, guys? The kid gave me my own baby name!” 

As the crew laughed, Pedro pressed his forehead to Grogu’s tiny brow and whispered, “I love you, son. I’ll see you soon.”

Grogu sweetly kissed him on the tip of the nose and whispered back, “Patu!”

THE END

[the-omni-princess]

Frozen Heart [Chapter 6]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary:  After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

Word Count: 3.7K

Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)

Warnings:  language, reader is a badass, bit of blood, violence, bit of fluff

A/N:

Small cliffhanger, but I’m leaving on vacation on Wednesday with no wifi, so I’m determined to write this chapter today and post it asap!! Was gonna add it to this chapter but it was getting wordy so… it was also like 2 am when I’m rereading/posting this so be nice, please.

[Series Masterlist]  [Masterlist]

----

The ride to the Northern Kingdom was faster than you remembered from your childhood, though you attributed that to the fact it was snowing the last time you were there. Though it was still summer, the Northern climate differed greatly from where you grew up. You knew as the months pressed on you would find yourself buried in blankets, sitting beside the fire, drinking hot cocoa, perhaps snuggled up alongside Bucky. The thought made you smile, your head currently pressed against Bucky’s shoulder, looking out the window towards the passing scenery.

“Penny for your thoughts, my Love? You’ve been quiet most of the way out of the South, and we are nearing more villages of the North.” Bucky whispered softly, his free hand was rubbing circles against your thigh, as you clung to his other arm.

You shrugged lazily, not wanting to move too far away from his body heat, “Thinking of the future, mostly how cold I’m going to be once the winter’s storms hit.”

He chuckled, the vibrations sending warmth throughout your body. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll keep you nice and toasty, bundled up in the thickest furs and wools I can find.” He kissed the top of your head tenderly. “You should have seen the first winter during the war, Stevie would not shut up, he was convinced he would get hypothermia despite all of the Howlies giving him their furs.” You looked up towards him, leaning towards him to hear more. He was smiling fondly, his eyes looking off in the distance as he reminisced of the few and fleeting joyful moments during the war. His attention, however, was caught by the flags waving in the distance as the limo closed into the town.

As you drove through the community, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It was certainly different from the villages in your kingdom, most of these houses were reinforced for snow and ice, and they had the added feature of chimneys. Flags of the country seal adorned taverns and shop windows as the limo leisurely moved along the street. Wolves were a common theme around the kingdom, as were the kingdom colors, greys, blues, and silvers were the usual colors you saw in most signs.

“Bucky? I want you to teach me everything about your kingdom, I want to know your people, please,” you murmured softly, enchanted by the circle of dancers, merrily dancing with the people. It was late in the morning, closing in on high noon, one of the times you were aware was a powerful time for healers, who believed in the connections between the heavens and the humans below.

Bucky was grinning like an idiot beside you, and although you didn’t know it, he was only looking at your awed expression, determined to memorize your features. “Well, let’s start now,” he pointed towards the dancers, “it’s almost high noon, so those healers are dancing to the sun god to pray for healing. The summer solstice is almost upon us, so they are going through a physical and spiritual test as a sacrifice to the gods. The bigger circles are most likely family members and friends, dancing in support and for fun, while the smaller circle are the actual healers.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear delicately as he spoke. Your breath caught in your throat meekly, you looked over your shoulder towards him, unconsciously looking up at him through your eyelashes as you gave him a bright smile. He felt his heart stutter, blushing as he continued. “We should switch to the horses soon, My Love. It’ll give you the chance to be up close and personal with the people if you want.” Your responding smile made his entire chest feel fuzzy with a feeling he couldn’t quite place, one that had been happening more frequently around you.

“I’d love that, Bucky, when can we make the switch? Poor Dermot is probably bored sick being pent-up.” You sat up straighter, excited to go riding again, grateful you decided on denim pants and an elegant blouse for the ride to the North.

“Dermot?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Dermot! My horse! His name comes from a hero in my kingdom’s mythology, it means Freedom. Riding was one of the few times I was allowed outside the castle walls, so that horse quickly became my freedom, plus it helps that he has a wild personality. The horse keeper says I’m the only rider he won’t kick-off.” His heart sunk at your words, despite your giddy smile. While an apt name indeed, its implications were that you were reduced to be some princess in the castle waiting for the war to end despite the advancements for equality in your kingdom.

He quickly recovered, determination to show you a newfound freedom building in his heart. “Well, doll, in the North, we can ride whenever your heart desires,” he promised, kissing your temple, not noticing the look of pure wonder you gave him at his words.

“Can we switch to the horse now? Please? I know we aren’t too far from the palace grounds, and you can show me all your favorite riding spots once we get there, if the sun allows it!” Your excitement was bubbling over, making Bucky laugh in amusement.

“Of course, my Queen. Whatever your heart desires, it shall be my pleasure to give you.” He vowed, the two of you wearing matching grins. He tapped on the tinted window separating the drivers from the two of you. As the window slipped down, you saw Scott and Sam were in the front, no doubt joking around, evident by the smirk on Sam’s face. “Scott, pull over at the next clearing, the Princess and I will be switching to the horses.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Scott replied, shooting you a smile through the rearview mirror, Sam already sending someone texts on his security issued phone as the window rolled back up.

A few minutes later the village clear way to a thick forest, which lead to a meadow clearing. The limo stopped, and Bucky was quick to step out, already offering you his hand before you could speak. You smiled warmly, taking his assistance to your feet. He noticed the way you lit up as Dermot was taken out of the travel stable, running towards your horse, who was already saddled and getting antsy. Sam mildly nudged Bucky’s shoulder, the two having become friendly since Bucky had the tendency to gravitate towards you while staying in the South, and Sam was your personal guard. “You should hurry up, she’s gonna leave you in the dust,” Sam goaded, sending you a wave which you happily returned before you jumped up into the saddle like a pro.

Bucky rolled his eyes, not dignifying the man with a response and heading towards his own horse, Nova, who was also saddled. With a small huff, he was in the saddle, smiling shyly towards you. “Shall I lead the way, my Love?”

You quickly nodded, mocking a bow while taking hold of Dermot’s reigns, “Why of course, my King,” You teased.

-

The two of you rode through a few more villages as high noon came and went, taking a few short breaks for the horses’ sake. On one such break, you and Bucky were leaning against a tavern wall, the royal guards doing a decent job of turning unaware citizen to leave you two alone while the horses had water and snacks behind the tavern in a nearby stable. The two of you weren’t talking about much, Bucky was currently telling you of his plans to show you the entire castle grounds.

“Of course, as Queen, you’ll be allowed anywhere in the palace, as it’ll be your home with a little bit of time,” he expressed, sending small smiles towards you. You were about to respond when something out of the corner of your eyeline caught your attention. Always one to trust your instincts, you looked towards the flash. A young woman was cornered, two young men, no doubt only slightly older than her, were tugging at her purse as she cried out. They were pretty well hidden in the small alleyway, but it was broad daylight, and yet they were still robbing her.

Bucky had noticed your silence, quickly following your eyesight to the scene, anger filling his body. The crime rate of the kingdom had gone down significantly since he began his rule, but it was your first day and you were already witnessing the dark parts of the country. No one was making a move to help the poor girl, another thought that sent more rage through Bucky. Yet, as he was about to take a step towards the three, determined to end the scene, he was stunned to see you already stomping your way across the street to defend the woman. His eyes followed you, momentarily too dumbfounded to follow you.

As you approached, you could hear the insults the men were using, degrading the woman as she struggled against them for her purse, it only fueled your fury. “Hey!” you seethed, venom dripping from the single word. The men glanced towards you, both a bit shocked to see a woman fuming at them. The woman looked towards her savior, jumping slightly as the men laughed, clearly not taking you seriously.

“Aw! What are you going to do, little one? You should scram before your father sees you, or worse!” One of the men sneered, their attentions diverting from the woman, who had fallen to the ground.

“Yeah! We wouldn’t want your daddy to find you curled up on the street like a bitch,” the other man snickered. That is what cleared Bucky’s momentary paralysis, now heading towards you, though he was a moment too slow.

You growled lowly at the back of your throat and lunged for one of the men, pulling him off the woman before snapping your fist back, straight into his nose. Pain radiated up your knuckles, but it was dulled as the adrenaline started to kick in, making your moves slower. You spun on your heel, your elbow hitting the other man square in the jaw. One swift quick to the crotch and both men were falling to the ground, clutching either their face or their groins. A satisfied smirk on your face, you quickly turned to the woman who looked awestruck up at you. You offered her your unbloodied hand, “Are you hurt?” you quickly asked as you helped her to her feet. She quickly shook her head, still too shocked to speak. “Deep breaths then, it’ll calm the shock down.”

Someone whistled at the corner of the alleyway behind you, you quickly spun, already placing yourself between the sound and the woman before relaxing. Bucky, Sam, and Scott were standing there, watching you with matching smirks. Sam, who knew of your skill, was incredibly proud, “Damn y/n, we were gone for a few minutes,” you shrugged, a small grin on your face.

Bucky grinned up towards you, sparing a second glance at the two men still laying on the ground, both had bloody faces. “I’m both incredibly impressed and terribly aroused,” he muttered, locked onto your eyes as you blushed.

“It was nothing, Nat’s been teaching me. You didn’t think those assassins were taken down by Sam, did you? Nat and I took ‘em down,” you grinned proudly, excitedly showing off, Bucky gave you a childish grin in response, though Sam sent you a playful glare.

The woman behind you squeaked as she saw Bucky, recognizing him as he stepped closer to you. “Y-your Majesty!” She tried to curtsy but almost tumbled, and you caught her with a small smile. Bucky motioned for Sam and Scott to grab the two men, who gladly grabbed them.

“Don’t worry about it, are you alright?” He asked, true concern for the unknown woman.

She quickly nodded, “Thanks to her, Your Majesty!” she averted her eyes from him, trying to show respect as she clung to you for support

“That would be y/n, my fiancé, and your future Queen,” you shot him a glare, he was teasing the poor woman, who was still recovering from shock. She yelped, trying to pull from your arms to try to curtsy again, mortified she was treating her future queen with such disrespect.

You gripped onto the woman, determined not to let her fall on her face, “Now, now, no need for all of that. Are you truly alright? What was your name?” You still shot Bucky a disapproving glare at his antics, he just grinned, responding with a playful smirk.

“Y-yes, Your Highness. My name’s So-Sophia,” She rushed out, still terrified.

You gently soothed her, brushing the dirt off her dress, “It’s alright Sophia, I’m a princess but I’m still human, no need to go senseless on me. Now, where you going when you were attacked.”

“The market, Your Highness,” Sophia didn’t drop the title, but she was in shock, so you let it go.

“Perfect, I’ll send one of the guards to accompany you there then back home, until you’re safe, alright Sophia?” You gently fixed her cloak, still smiling supportively towards her.

She shook her head, “It’s alright, milady, I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for your generosity, and for saving me.” She looked a bit more stable, the shock most likely dying down.

“Of course, my job isn’t just to lead the people, it’s to protect them. I am only doing what is right. If that’s all, and you’re sure you would be fine alone again, then I wish you safe travels and a wonderful rest of your day.” You let your hands drop from her sides, done fixing her up.

Sophia grinned and nodded quickly, “Of course, Your Highness, you as well, gods bless you,” she walked past Bucky, quickly curtsying with a “Your Majesty,” before disappearing into the crowds.

Bucky whistled again in awe, a cheeky grin on his face, “You’re a natural, and that right hook! Gods you’re perfect,” he said in wonder. You hissed softly, pain radiating from your knuckles now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He quickly came closer, picking up your hand delicately. Your knuckles were bloody, a small cut on them but most of the blood was from the men, and the beginning of a bruise was discoloring the skin. He pressed a soft kiss to your palm, “Let’s get you cleaned up and go home,” he led you back out the alley, holding your hand to his chest protectively.

“Bucky, my hand is fine, should be more worried about that guy’s face, I hit him with the royal ring without realizing it.” He looked again towards your hand, sure enough, your golden ring was splattered with a bit of blood.

He chuckled, “Gods you’re absolutely amazing,” he mumbled, kissing your wrist. He glanced towards your left hand, which only had a simple golden ring on your thumb, a gift from Steve when you were younger. Your ring finger was noticeably empty, but he didn’t say a word about it, already tugging you back towards the horses.

-

A few short hours later, you arrived at the castle grounds. The sun was setting, lighting up the surrounding mountain tops with beautiful shades of pink and purple. You dismounted Dermot, fixing your blouse after handing the reigns to one of the stable keepers, as it was clear you couldn’t ride with the night falling. Bucky did the same, before offering his hand to you. “We’re home, My Queen,” he kissed your temple as you took his hand, happily following him inside.

The guards and maids were lined up, quick to bow to you both, though you noticed they were mostly bowing towards you. You blushed, not used to all the attention, as you were usually just someone who might be on the throne, yet here you were someone who was going to be on the throne. “Please see to it that all of Princess Y/n’s personal belongings are in the Queen’s chambers,” Bucky said to one of the maids, who curtsied with a responded “Your Majesty” before rushing off. He then turned to you, “Would you like to do anything tonight, My Love?” You were too busy taking in the castle, it had been years since you had been here, and it was lovelier than you remembered, but it felt so cold. Not in the literal temperature sense, as it was still summer, but the entire castle walls felt void of something. It took you a few minutes before you realized it, Love.

Turning towards Bucky, you gave him a small smile, “I thought we could get settled in, just relax,” you laced your hands together over your stomach, a habit formed from wearing tight corsets.

Bucky nodded, “Of course.” He offered you his arm, smiling as you took it, following him, arm in arm. “Would you mind sleeping in my bed tonight, doll? I’m dreadfully sorry, but your chambers aren’t ready yet,” he was blushing, bashful.

You giggled, tightening your grip on his arm, “I’d love that.” As Bucky led you through the castle towards his chambers, you noticed how the feeling of dread from the foyer seemed to be a running trend. These walls were simply shelter, not a home. You wanted to change that. Caught up in taking in the empty halls, you didn’t notice you were already at the doors to the king’s chamber. It looked similar to your chambers back home, only these chambers style was darker and much bigger. The size of the room made you felt small, and the fact that there seemed to be minimal decorating made it feel more like a guest room than a permanent residence. The bed was lined with slightly thicker furs than the bed back home. No.you corrected yourself. The bed back in the South. This bed was a navy blue, intricate designs embedded in silver.

You sat on the edge of the bed, Bucky stepping away from you for a moment as you took in the room. Everything in the room screamed of pure ice, sending a small chill down your spine. Determination started to set in your head, you were most definitely changing the pure feeling of dread these palace walls held. The balcony is what caught your attention next, the view outside the windows was of the valley in between the mountains, a lake in the middle, the setting sun reflecting oranges and pinks into the water.

“Y/n/n?” Bucky called out, you turned your head, caught up in the view. He was kneeling on one knee in front of you, gently taking your hand and cleaning the blood off your knuckle from earlier. “The view is beautiful isn’t it?”

“Definitely different than I’m used to, but in a good way. I like it, I’m more of a sunset then sunrise person myself,” you nodded, sending him a small smile.

He grinned, “I’d thought you would like it. Just wait until you see the stars in a few hours.” He finished cleaning off your hand, tossing the towel towards the wastebasket.

“I noticed you didn’t change the castle much since we were younger,” you spoke just above a whisper, wanting to address the distantness the entire place felt like, knowing kings tended to renovate and redecorate the castle once they took the throne.

He lost his smile, sighing softly. “Yeah, it didn’t feel right. I was… a little emotionally distant when I got back.”

“A little?” you teased, making him smile faintly.

“Okay, a lot. Bad headspace, and bad coping mechanisms.” He shrugged, not meeting your eyes as he bit his lip. “I think I should tell you what happened now. All of it.”

You gently took his hands in yours, “Like I said earlier, you don’t have to, and if you do, I’ll be right here for you, My Love.” You spoke firmly, making sure he could hear your conviction.

“Get ready for bed, doll, then I will tell you as much as I can,” he stood, kissing your head lightly before going towards a drawer to change himself. He froze, sighing softly, his hands rubbing his face as he thought aloud, “Your clothes aren’t here yet, are they?”

You laughed, jumping up to stand beside him. “I can borrow some sleepwear, Bucky, relax.” You grabbed one of his shirts, and his pajama pants, already heading towards the bathroom to change. You quickly changed, and after a second of hesitation, decided to take your bra and undergarments off as well. Now, only in panties and Bucky’s oversized shirt, you tried pulling on his pajama pants. You groaned, no matter how tight you pulled the strings, it wouldn’t fit and kept falling. You gave up, folding them and placing them on top of the rest of your clothes.  “Hope you're decent!” you called out before walking out of the bathroom, tugging the oversized shirt down. It hit your midthigh, but you felt exposed, especially as Bucky, now in pajamas as well, looked you up and down, his eyes going dark as he chuckled.

“Pants didn’t fit, huh?” You shook your head with a small shrug. You placed the clothes on the desk in the large room before joining Bucky on the bed. He wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, smiling softly as you nuzzled into the furs. “Before I start to tell you, I just want to warn you. It’s not pretty, and I respect you and don’t want to lie to you or sugar coat it. I’m not sure how much either of us can take before I’ll need to stop, but if it becomes too much, please, let me know?” He gave you a sad smile, holding onto your hands tenderly.

“Bucky, I’m not a child, I can handle it. I promise but promise yourself the same thing, don’t push yourself too far.” You squeezed his hands lightly, giving him your full support and attention.

He nodded, sighing softly as his gaze dropped to your interwoven hands, already putting himself into the headspace needed to tell you the truth. “Then let’s begin, all the way at the beginning.”

----

Frozen Heart Tags:

@jsmith509

@lumar014

@littlemissporter

@kaylaphantomhive

@damnbuckyishot

@aveatquevale-

@booksbeforebois

@marvelgirl7

@minetticatinwonderland

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

I will be going on vacation for 10 days with no wifi so if I Don't see your comment, MESSAGE ME!!

[princessanneftw]

Yeah, the title was predictable ;) I have some more ideas that I'll put to paper when I have some free time! Thanks to all for the encouragement, you are fantastic!

Fire

Tim stood near the large windows, watching the white grounds getting covered by more and more snow. He hadn’t realised she had come into the room, so Anne took the opportunity to study him freely, without the constant fear that someone may see and wonder why she was so interested in her mother’s equerry.

It was actually her father who’d introduced the two of them, a few weeks after Commander Laurence had been installed in the household. She was meeting her parents for a brief tea before going back home, and upon entering the drawing room she had been surprised upon seeing that while her mother was on the phone, her father was animatedly talking with a tall, well-built man, and apparently, enjoying the conversation very much.

“Anne! Come in. Your mother is on the phone with Aunt Margot, but they won’t be long, don’t worry. You’ll be home in time for the children’s bedtime story.”

The mysterious man turned around upon hearing her name, and Anne internally faltered. Yes, he was tall and well-built, but he was also very young, handsome, muscular, with dark hair and inquisitive eyes. She was sure he turned heads wherever he went, most of all when dressed in uniform, as he was now.

“Anne, this is your mother’s new equerry, Commander Timothy Laurence. The youngest ever to hold the post, but as you can see, he is a man of the Navy, and we are known to train only the best.”

“Sir, you’re too kind. Your Royal Highness, it is a great honour to meet you.”

He bowed deeply and gave her a slight smile, which she found easy to return.

"It’s a pleasure Commander, and welcome to the circus. I suggest you stand clear of the reptiles, they may seem asleep all the time but they are quite venomous.”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, showing the deepest green irises, with specks of gold and hazel; for some unknown reason, Anne had the feeling that those eyes could read directly into her soul, learning her deepest secrets and darkest fears in a matters of second, and at the same time she couldn’t pull her gaze away. Before it could become embarrassing, however, her mother joined them and the equerry left after giving her one last, subtle look.

Anne didn’t know if she wanted to groan or to squeal at the prospect of meeting Timothy Laurence again. She could see that the mysterious Commander was an interesting person to be around, and to hear him praised by her father was indeed very promising, but she also had a feeling, deep in her heart, that getting closer to him could be very, very dangerous.

And she was right, he was dangerous. The more they talked, the more she grew attached to him, and without realizing it, he had become her confidant, her friend. She had never felt such a pull to anyone, not even to Mark, and that scared her much more than she was willing to admit.

Furthermore, her traitorous heart had started to beat harder whenever they were together, and she could feel it skip a beat every time Tim smiled at her. Sometimes she would go as far as to imagine his voice calling her name, laughing together, then stopping before whispering that she was the only one for him, turning to much more salacious whisperings.

The dreams were the last straw. Nearly every night, he haunted her. Sometimes with innocent visions, but much more frequently she woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat, remembering green eyes darkened with lust, lips and fingers touching her body, worshipping her, making her scream.

She was falling hard for a man who was not her husband, and right now they were alone, in the middle of a blizzard, after he’d brought her Ibuprofen for her sick child. Really, how much could a woman resist?

Clearing her throat, she entered the living room just as he was turning towards her, perhaps having sensed her presence.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem enough.”

“It’s nothing your Royal Highness, I really volunteered to come. I was going to Winchester anyway, and even though you are a very good driver, I couldn’t bear the idea of you and Miss Zara being out in this weather, Ma’am.”

“Winchester isn’t around the corner Tim, but the prospect of driving or being alone in this weather was not very enticing, so really, thank you. And by the way, you’d better get yourself comfortable, because you are not going to leave tonight, and that’s final. Now, I was about to grab a bite to eat, would you care to join me?”

They ate roast and vegetables in the kitchen, while chatting easily about the latest news from the Palace, her mother’s future engagements, her father’s latest gaffes, her horses, sailing, the traditional cruise on Britannia in August, Mark’s ongoing infidelities, his mother, the children, rugby, everything really. Sometimes they just looked at each other in silence, trying to understand what the other was thinking, and only Zara coming down for some more water made them realize that it was nearly midnight. She accepted his offer of cleaning up the kitchen and turning the lights off while she put the alarms on and got her daughter back in bed, making sure she was asleep before going to prepare the spare bedroom.

Tim had retrieved his bag from the car before dinner, and she could see sweatpants and a jersey on the chair, his choice of sleep attire she imagined. Picking them up, she was putting them on the bed when Tim’s cologne reached her nose, causing flashes of images to appear before her eyes, and all involving her divesting him of his clothes before...she gasped when she realized that she wasn’t alone anymore.

Tim was watching her from the door, looking curiously between her eyes and her hands still holding his clothes. He reached her slowly, never once losing eye contact, and Anne cleared her throat while putting the jersey back on the bed.

 “The bedroom is ready. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, I think so... Actually, there is something that I needed to ask you.”

He came even closer, and Anne couldn’t look at him anymore, too afraid of losing that little control she still had.

“Why are you trembling, your Royal Highness?”

She felt a hand under her chin, raising her face, and she let him, finding herself gazing into the same eyes of her dreams, full of fire, lust, desire.

“I think you know why, Commander.”

They met in the middle, their lips smashing together, tongues fighting for dominance, all the pent-up pressure of the last months coming to the surface and taking away the last bit of doubt she had. His lips were warm, a bit rough, and they tasted like freedom, like the wind, like sea breeze and sunsets. His hands were everywhere at once, in her hair, at her waist, caressing her breasts and her thighs. Anne found herself moaning before she could stop herself, and wanting to regain some control, she pushed him against the wall, taking his hands away and pinning them at his sides. Surprised, he detached their lips and she took the opportunity to explore his neck, eliciting a deep moan that had her smirk against him.

Tim suddenly flipped them, pinning her hands over her head and kissing her again. She matched the onslaught, giving as much as she received, grinding her hips against his and feeling him react to their activities. Blinded by desire, her hands travelled downwards, but before she could reach her target he stopped her, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

“You don’t know how much I want this.. How I want you to scream my name until you have no voice left. How I want to kiss every bit of your body, and believe me, one day I will, but not tonight.. You’re tired, Zara is in the other room, sick, and most of all, this is your marital home, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable when you walk in front of this room.. If I could, I would walk away from you now, because I know my feelings aren’t fair to you or to anyone else. But I’m not so strong, and maybe I’m not a good person either, because all I want to do right now is make you mine, and it’s taking me everything not to show you how much you mean to me..”

Anne was speechless. She should feel mortified that she had forgotten about her daughter in the other room or about the ring on her finger, but she was too busy grasping what he had actually said.

“Then we are two weak, evil people Tim, because I don’t care what will happen tomorrow, or next month.. I only know that I want you so much that it scares me, because I don’t like being so out of control. When you’re near, I feel like I’m centred and lost at the same time. I gravitate towards you and yet I am completely myself.. I love you. And I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care about protocol or about my family, I will burn if it means living just one perfect moment with you.”

“So the traitorous man fell in love with the ruthless woman. A match made in heaven, wouldn’t you say?”

They laughed together, calming themselves, and then decided to sleep in separate rooms, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to control themselves otherwise. After one last long kiss, Anne checked on Zara before going to bed, exhausted but incredibly happy, her last thought being that, in the end, she had been kissed on Valentine’s day.

The next morning Zara was feverish, but not as much as the previous day. Tim left after breakfast, with a searing kiss and the promise of more. In the afternoon Mark came back, and they spent a quiet Sunday waiting for Peter to get home in the evening.

Everything seemed unchanged, and yet, unbeknownst to everyone else, a dangerous liaison had been lit beneath the icy fire of a February blizzard.

* * *

Well damn! HELLO! Heehee, my title prediction was right, but wow ok, this was very nice. I really liked how you focused on what they might’ve been thinking, knowing the risks and her confusion and unwillingness to fall for someone else, but not being able to help it. My little shipper heart is full of feels right now from you lovely writers 🥰

I can’t wait to read whatever comes next!

[starl1ght-child]

Enthralled

Rezyl Azzir x F!Non-Guardian OC

Chapter 13 : Promises [ WC 2.1K ]

masterlist

Rilea was in the hospital for another three months following Twilight Gap.  The broken vertebrae were taking the longest to heal and she was bedridden until they did.  For a long while, she barely spoke.  Temporary paralysis had taken everything from her:  her life, her happiness, her faith.  She wouldn’t be able to go back to work afterwards, she wasn’t even sure if she was going to walk.  When the vertebrae did finally heal, she remained inpatient for weeks of physical therapy and rehabilitation.  She had to relearn how to walk and regain strength in her back and legs.  

Rezyl took some temporary leave from the Vanguard.  He told them that after Twilight Gap, he had to rethink some of his priorities, and they did as well.  But eventually, he started to get antsy.  There was rage towards the Fallen that fueled his fire for revenge.  Rilea would still have a life if not for the Fallen.  She would still be able to walk.  He spent much of the first month keeping her company in the hospital, but he wasn’t made for staying in place.  And the longer he stayed out of the field, the longer his anger simmered.

Rilea knew that he was growing anxious staying in one place, so she assured Rezyl that she was fine.  She was in good hands with the doctors here.  He didn’t have to spend every waking moment with her.  Just come visit every couple of days.  And though he said he would, that was another empty promise.  She realized that they were both alike in the sense of being workaholics.  He only came to visit when he was home, and that was about once every five or six days.

And when he did visit, she started to notice small changes in his personality.  He smiled less.  He talked less.  He seemed to be avoiding sleep, no matter how tired he was.  Only a few times he had passed out, his head on her bed, clutching her hand.  He started to become a little more physical, but not in a violent sense.  He touched her more, caressed her more, he seemed to find comfort in the warmth of her skin.  

But there was one thing she noticed the most.

He had stopped calling her “paramour.”

He came looking for her one day while she was in therapy, so he was shown to the rehab gym where she was working on walking.  She had spent two weeks getting the strength in her legs back up.  She was with a physical therapist on a straight track with two railings on the side for support.  Adorned in loose pants and a tank top and sweating her ass off, short hair sticking to her neck and forehead, she caught sight of Rezyl standing by the door.  There was a small smile on his lips as he started over to her.  For a moment she was so excited to see him and tried to rush over to him; that she took her hands off the railing and she forgot she didn’t have the strength in her back to fully support herself yet.  She sank down onto her knees, with a small groan of pain.  Both he and the doc were at her side, but she brushed them both off.  She grabbed onto the railings and pulled herself back onto her feet.  She looked over at the doc and tilted her head, wordlessly asking for a few minutes alone.  When the doctor walked away, Rezyl walked onto the ramp with her.

“You’re getting stronger,” Rezyl remarked.  “Good.”

“Yeah, well, they won’t let me leave here until I can walk on my own again, so…”  She gave him a strained smile.  “I’m trying.”

He extended his hands.  “Well, don’t let me stop you.  Let’s keep going.”

Rilea looked at him with raised browns and half a smile.  She took his hands and grasped onto them tightly while she tried to support herself.  He slowly started walking backwards and she took some unsteady steps forwards, following his path.  

“You know…” she started.  “You’ve seemed a little distracted lately.”

He didn’t even bat an eye.  “There’s a lot of work to be done, Rilea.”

She sighed softly.  “I know.  There’s always work.”  She took a few more shaky steps.  “Hopefully I’ll be walking on my own and out of here in a couple of weeks.”

“You shouldn’t rush your body, Ri,”  he sighed.  He looked down at her and tilted his .  “I understand you want out of here, but you need to give yourself time.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. And took a few more steps.  Her legs were shaking badly.  “I-I need a break.”  

He nodded and closed the gap between them, pulled her hand up to his shoulder then slid his arm around her back.  He walked her over to the chair at the end of the ramp, supporting most of her weight until she was sitting down.  She leaned back in the chair and the doctor came back over to give her a glass of water.  She looked over at Rezyl to see a resigned look on his face.  She leaned her head into his view and he met her gaze.  She reached up and cupped his cheek; Rezyl’s hand came up and placed on top of hers.

“Hey… don’t look at me like that.  I’m going to be alright.”

He sighed then reached up and ruffled a hand through her hair.  “I know.  You’re just as stubborn as I am.”

— — — — — 

Five months to the day of her admission, Rilea was discharged from the hospital.  She could walk on her own just fine, though she had a small limp now that was only noticeable when you were looking for it.  She carried a pack over her shoulder of her belongings and let out a small sigh of delight when a light, late summer breeze brushed over her face and ruffled her short hair.  When she got home, Rezyl wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but as she shut the door and set down her pack, she could hear the shower running.  She smiled to herself as she snuck into the bedroom and changed out of the clothes she had been loaned from the hospital and into some of her own, something familiar for him.  She quietly walked back out into the living area and sat down on the couch.

She heard the bedroom door open and she looked over her shoulder with a smile.  Rezyl’s eyes widened when he realized that she was there.  His Ghost immediately materialized out of thin air and circled around her head.

“Welcome home!” Amit chirped happily. 

Rilea laughed as she stood.  “Yes, I’m home.”  She looked over at Rezyl and he still stood there, shocked.  She walked over to him and took his hands.  His hair was still wet from his shower.

“You’re home…”  He murmured softly, his head tilting to take in her radiance.  One of his hands lifted and cupped her cheek, thumb tracing over the old scar on her skin, index finger brushing over the new one in her hairline.  “I saw you two weeks ago and you were still struggling.”  She closed her eyes and sighed with delight as his fingers pushed through her hair until he held the back of her head.  “You’re so strong…”

Rilea opened her eyes and gazed at him lovingly.  “Rezyl…”  She sighed softly.  “We need to—”

He shushed her and leaned down, pressing his forehead on hers.  “No… please, sweet girl, you’ve just come home.  I haven’t been able to hold you in ages.  Please… just let me have you… I just want to touch you…”

She wanted to open her mouth to protest, that she really needed to talk to him about how much he’s been changing.  She just wanted to make sure he was alright.  His hand slipped around her waist and gently pressed on her back, over the scar where the incision from her surgery was.  The scar itself was still sensitive, but when his fingers touched it ever so gently, she nearly sank against him with the thrill that electrified her neurons.  “You’ll always have me,” she murmured quietly.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

As his hands slid down her sides to her hips and he effortlessly lifted her off her feet, Rilea pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely.  He kissed her with a sense of urgency and desperation, but she could feel his desire emanating off of him.  His skin felt like it was on fire, his grip on her bottom was firm as he carried her into the privacy of their bedroom, his kiss was hot and fervent, his touch like sparks on her skin when he finally sat down on the bed with her in his lap.

“Rezyl,” she gasped when his broke from her lips and trailed kisses along her throat.  He faltered for a moment, pausing his assault on her skin, his hands already halfway up her shirt.  Rilea giggled lightly as she leaned her head back and pushed her hands into his damp hair.  “Slow down… I’m staying right here…”

He let out a pent-up sigh and leaned his head on his shoulder, his lips pressing on her collarbone.  “Sorry…” he mumbled in embarrassment.  “I… I missed you… I think a lot more than I realized.”

She cupped his jaw with both her hands, lifted his face and smiled compassionately at him.  “Then come home more… I know you’re trying to keep me safe from out there… but I feel safer when you’re by my side.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, one of his lifting and closing around her wrist.  “All right…” he sighed.  “I’ll try to be home every night… whenever I can…” 

She smiled warmly and leaned forward, closed her eyes and pressed a kiss on his lips.  “Good…”

— — — — — 

They laid side by side, skin and hearts bared, cuddled in each other’s warmth, a tangled mess of limbs.  Rezyl’s fingers danced up and down her skin, tracing over every scar, from the new ones on her spine and stomach, to the older ones on her shoulder and cheek.  Rilea, exhausted from their make-up session and cuddled up with her back pressed against his chest, was nearly falling asleep against him.  His hands finally settled her abdomen, gently rubbing circles on her skin.  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t rest.  There was one question on her mind that she wanted to ask.

“Hey, Rezyl?”  She said softly, and he hummed in response.  “Why’d you stop calling me ‘paramour’?”

He was silent for a moment, though he still continued to gently massage her skin.  “Because you are no longer my paramour,” he started, but his hand slid up and covered her heart before she could respond.  “You are my love.  My greatest love.  There’s nothing immoral about this love for me anymore.  Twilight Gap made me realize that.”

She shifted in his arms and turned onto her other side.  His hands aligned on her spine and pulled her close against his chest.  “How so?”

“In the years I’ve known you, love, I had never felt more fear and anxiety thinking that I had lost you.  I know…” He sighed and pressed his lips against the back of her neck.  “I know I will lose you one day.  But I wasn’t ready to lose you like that.  I love you too much to let you go.”

“My years in this world are finite,” she whispered.  “You and I have both known that from the moment we met, and yet you stayed with me.  Through everything.  Rezyl, I…” she looked up into his eyes, his beautiful emerald optics that had captured her from day one.  “I love you, too.”

He gave her a small smile, leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Get some rest, sweet girl.”  She nestled against his chest while he ran his hand up and down her spine.  But while his lover slept, Rezyl stayed awake.  He was at war with himself.  The Vanguard was flawed; they only fortified the wall after Twilight Gap, when it should have happened after six fronts.  The Consensus was arrogant, especially the Speaker; who exiled Osiris because he was concerned about a Vex invasion, which the City was woefully unprepared for.  And to make matters worse, he sent Saint-14 after Osiris, and he has since gone missing.  His patience for the City’s “leaders” who sought “peace” was growing dangerously thin.

Tag List : @mail-me-a-snail

[koganeirou]

Ikemen Revolution - Fenrir’s Route

Aaaand here’s one for Fenrir’s route!

My main comments are: FUCK those avatar challenges. It took me five thousand years to finish this damn route because I was stuck grinding for Lin for five thousand years because according to cybird, I can’t get the good ending w ma man unless I look cute smh.

The night that Alice lands in Cradle, she pretty much goes out to the garden to sob her eyes out because of the stress of being killed (oh honey don’t worry this game doesn’t have any bad ends. If you were in a game like Amnesia then I’d start crying LMAO). Fenrir happens to see her and wipes her tears away (*๓´╰╯`๓). He decides to spend the month with Alice to make her have as much fun as possible, and makes her promise that so there will be no regrets, the two will not fall in love.

But we all know that’s not gonna happen.

I guess because the boys finally learned from Lancelot’s route to never send a nameless faceless nobody with Alice, Ray assigns Fenrir as her personal bodyguard. 

Fenrir takes it upon himself to be Alice’s personal tour guide, so they go on a date around the Central Quarter eating all kinds of sweets like a bunch of dorks D’AWW. Of course the red army are full of party poopers who crashes their alone time.

@Red army boys, I LOVE YOU ALL BUT YOUR SOLDIERS NEEDA CHILL. Like my grievances from Lancelot’s route carry over in twofold because the nameless red soldiers are once again, STILL a bunch of blood thirsty hooligans who are clearly letting “may glory flow crimson through our veins” slogan get to their heads WAYY too much. 

(☪̤̆_̆ ☪̤̆) THAT’S SO SPECIFIC LMAO.

But anyhoo I guess having a body guard with actual plot armor was really beneficial because Fenrir drives off all of the Red soldiers! And as it turns out, they were sent by Edgar (but of course why am I not surprised smh).

They return home and a few black army soldiers comes out shitting their pants because apparently there’s a ghost, and when Fenrir hears that HE shits his pants. 

Luka has his priorities straight.

Fenrir pussyfoots outside the army headquarters for a few minutes because GHOST but then big bear Sirius comes out RURL pissed because everyone keeps making a ruckus.

WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY. LIKE IT’S PICTURE PERFECT. I CAN IMAGINE HIM DOING THIS IN MY HEAD FRAME BY FRAME.

So the ghost was actually a magic cult goon creeping around like a lech looking for women's’ underwear, whom Seth covered for. I had zero interest in Seth before but I do find it interesting that more hints about Seth’s connection to the magic cult goons are being dropped, and if anything it makes me want to play his route now.

I’d love to be your friend!!! But unfortunately Fenrir is a giant stick in the mud and won’t let me! But never fear because your route is coming out soon so soon I’ll be more than just your friend LOL!

 Fenrir gets news that some of their soldiers got cornered on the Red Bridge. Well what do you know, turns out the nameless red soldiers are still mad that they busted a nut in anticipation for nothing because they didn’t get to skewer any soldiers in Lancelot’s route, so now they’re taking out their pent up frustration here.

Luka hears the news as well and rushes to the red bridge just in time to see Jonah and the rest of the red soldiers man handling the black army soldiers (wtf Jonah I expected better of you). Luka goes from simmering with rage to boiling with rage and charges at the red soldiers. Obviously the red soldiers don’t care (or... they just can’t comprehend) that Luka is their superior’s freaking brother because all they can think about is reaping the reward for unnecessary stabbing and so they go into Ultimate Shish Kabobing Mode and decide to kill Luka.

Jesus christ... these fucking red soldiers. I am so sorry but I think the only people in this clown of an army that has any shred of honor or self control are the red army love interests LOL.

Anyway Fenrir drags Luka’s delirious bloody corpse back to the black army and the scene ain’t pretty. But it’s okay because we all know that this game doesn’t have the balls to actually kill anyone so it’s not like there’s any need to be worried.

See even Alice acknowledges it lol. This game’s too soft (not that that’s necessarily a bad thing... if I want angst I’ll just read fanfiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Apparently the one who actually made swiss cheese of Luka was Jonah. At first I was just SO CONFUSION?? JONAH WOULD NEVER DO THAT! until this bomb dropped and my only reaction was honestly just “...yikes”.

CRIES @ MY HEART

Jonah sneaks into Black Territory unarmed and Fenrir decides to arrange for him to see Luka like a the great wingbro he is. Alice’s left awkwardly keeping Jonah company but the ice quickly breaks and they end up spending the day talking about Luka ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡.

Fenrir successfully sneaks Jonah into Luka’s room but the two end up just having a screaming match and Luka boots Jonah out of his room. Understandable, considering how all the red soldiers are like little kids that you needa put those backpack straps on because who knows what the fuck they’ll do if left to their own devices.

me whenever I have any kind of guests over.

eat my ass @ Sirius 

When it’s decided that the Black and Red army are gonna go to war for realsies, Alice requests to go onto the battle field with Fenrir so she can repel magic. Sirius freaks out going all like “ojou-chan, you mustn’t! It’s not a walk in the park!!” but Alice ain’t having any of that and essentially tells Sirius to eat her ass. Fenrir being the amazing bro he is sticks up for Alice and asks Ray if he can take her with him, swearing he’ll protect her. Ray’s like sigh fine. This scene was honestly my favourite because I loved how much confidence Fenrir had in Alice and how he respected her desire to help. Unlike a certain someone ੧| ‾́ェ ‾́ |੭ (totally not throwing shade at Sirius LMAO).

CRIES SOME MORE THAT’S SUCH A CUTE NICKNAME.

I could have asked the exact same thing of you Sirius.

The rest of the Black Army can clearly see sparks flying between Fenrir and Alice but unfortunately, Fenrir has to join Sirius in the emotional constipation of “what is this feeling in my chest?! Definitely not love!” Granted Fenrir has an excuse because of the promise he made her, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless.

oh my god can you shut up about this dumbass slogan for one minute. 

Ngl despite the heart warming moment of resolve when Fenrir decides to take Alice into battle, it’s pretty damn hard to take the war seriously because it feels like a bunch of 14 year old teenagers doing a play-war considering of how almost comedic it is. Again, I’m not saying that this game needs to be an angst fest where everyone dies, but for a story about two armies on the brink of war, it does a pretty bad job at building any real tension or showing this war as a source of any real conflict with any real stakes or any real consequences.

I totally *do not* dislike that nickname 👀

We cut back to the red army who are all quite frazzled because they all had that “oh fuck” moment when they realized that they’re getting their asses whooped by the black army.  Lancelot decides to stay his hand, whereas Jonah rages at Edgar’s incompetence but Edgar’s ultimately like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ King’s orders”.

Alice you’re doing amazing, sweetie.

Alice continues to fight with Fenrir on the front lines but she realizes that she really loves him and she doesn’t want to go home anymore! UNFORTUNATELY FOR HER, our lovely gentleman Fenrir “this feeling in my chest is totally love but I WON’T ADMIT IT!” Godspeed repeatedly dodges her attempts at confessing (¬_¬). GOOD SIR I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. You’re just trying to put off having a heart to heart about your feelings until the full moon so you can boot Alice back to her world without ever having to talk about it (ლಠ益ಠ)ლ.

Alice tries once again for the nth time to confess her feelings to Fenrir but this time they’re interrupted by the magic cult goons who are hell bent on capturing Alice. This plays out exactly as you’d predict and the two get cornered at a cliff LOL. Alice gets blown off the cliff and Fenrir jumps after her to save her.

This, my friends, is what we call: plot armor.

They miraculously (and conveniently) survive their fall and end up in the castle ruins in the forbidden forest. I guess being lost in an abandoned forest with a totally not haunted castle next to them sets the mood for sexy time because they end up making out like their life depends on it. Conveniently, without actually saying they love each other ლ(ಠ_ಠლ). 

GUYS... THE DRIVER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE.... GUYS....

They make it back to Black Territory in one piece with the help of Loki and Harr and Ray loses his shit because he thought they died T T T.  Fenrir is sent back to the front lines and Alice is totally ready to go back and kick some ass but I guess all the fire and confidence in this power couple completely deflated because Fenrir becomes Sirius 2.0 and refuses to take Alice SMH. 

Alice finds Fenrir boarding a carriage to leave, and she stops him and tries to tell him that she loves him. Fenrir responds by pulling Alice into the carriage with him and at this point I was HYPED because “is he actually gonna take her with him?!?!” but my hopes are quickly dashed when he shoves her into the carriage, initiates round 2 of INTENSE MAKE OUT SESSION LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT..... then throws Alice’s sad ass back out of the carriage and leaves her behind once he’s finished (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻.

UGH! FENRIR! JUST--- AGHHHHHHH. 

YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN. Like yea sex is great, but have you ever heard of proper verbal communication??

(I also find it funny how the driver was just sitting there the entire time they were making out doing a big boi sweat).

me with group assignments in school.

Fenrir comes back on the night of the full moon and Alice for the 100TH DAMN TIME IN THIS ROUTE, tries to tell him that she doesn’t want to go home, but Fenrir, again, dashes her hopes and tells her she has to go back he won’t be able to protect her all the time. Which we all know is bullshit, but nevertheless Alice decides to listen to him. 

Ha ha ha you are so full of shit.

And so Alice once again goes to the gates of hell garden portal which I officially dub as “The Hole Where Bad Things Happen” or more accurately, “The Hole That No Player Ever Wants To See”. 

Anyhoo Alice leaps back home and spends about a month moping in London until one day a black army soldier comes to London and begs Alice to go back with him because Fenrir’s in danger! Alice, having literally zero self preservation because I guess her time on the battle field taught her jack shit, blindly follows this fellow back to Cradle and the moment she arrives, the guy reveals himself to be a magic cult goon and so she’s kidnapped and taken to Amon’s sex dungeon.

Look. I’m not gonna accuse Alice of “dumb mc syndrome” and I don’t necessarily blame her for falling for it but at the same time, COME ON. THIS IS THE DUMBEST PLOT POINT EVER. Of all the possible reasons she comes back to Cradle, THIS IS THE ONLY THING THEY COULD THINK OF? What makes it so aggravating is that it’s stated multiple times that any person from Reason can repel magic, so if that’s the case, the cult goons could have just kidnapped any random off the street instead of wasting time and energy looking for Alice. And if they could conveniently stroll into the land of Reason, why didn’t they do that ages ago?!

You know that writing rule “make your villains smarter, not your protagonists dumber”, or something like that? Well in this case, everyone is dumb!

Anyway during the month Alice was gone, Lancelot finally decides to stop going radio silent and consults the Black Army about Amon and his weed stash. This felt really convenient and almost inconsistent with Lancelot’s character because in the other routes he was hell bent on not talking unless 100% cornered, but in Fenrir’s route he spills the beans like it’s no big deal. 

Fenrir hears the news of Alice being kidnapped by Amon and the Black army pretty much storms into the Magic Tower and fishes Alice out. Amon finally reveals himself but honestly he doesn’t put up much of a fight because Fenrir shoots him with one of those hiccuping guns and that’s enough to deflate all of Amon’s fighting spirit lmao so he gets arrested in the end. Talk about anti climatic as hell. This entire thing just felt really stupid because if all they had to do with storm the damn tower, they should have done so ages ago.

Admittedly I do like the resolution to this whole fiasco. Fenrir is totally ready to get down and dirty, but before that Fenrir and Alice actually, finally, and at long last, properly talk about their feelings and sort out their relationship mess. 

Dramatic End:

Alice officially joins the Black Army, and they hold her enrollment ceremony. Hosting it is usually Ray’s job since he’s king but since Alice is his best friend’s babe, he decides to let Fenrir take over. Unfortunately, Fenrir can’t keep his excitement in check and ends up picking Alice up and spinning her around in joy ╭(๑ ॔ㅂ ਂ ॓)و ̑̑. THIS WAS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS ENDING.

-----

Honestly I have a lot of mixed feelings about this route. There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly, but since I don’t wanna end this post on a salty note so I’ll just start with the ugly and work my way up.

The Ugly: The route starts losing momentum their promise of not falling in love morphs into the source for Fenrir’s self cockblock fest for the rest of the route and him repeatedly rebuffing Alice’s attempts to tell him she wants to stay in Cradle became unbearable frustrating. Playing Sakuya’s route in Norn9 alongside Fenrir’s route did not help at all because his route also had a “promise of not falling in love” premise and had the exact same problems as Fenrir’s route so honestly my frustration was just doubled at this point.

The Bad: The plot is balls off the rail in the second half if it isn’t obvious enough from my complaints earlier. The Hole That No Player Ever Wants to See making a reappearance in Fenrir’s route kills a lot of the build up between Alice and Fenrir and there was honestly no point of having Alice go back to London. The circumstances that lead her to returning were so stupid it had me head banging against the wall.

The Good: I think Fenrir and Alice have a very strong “friends to lovers” romance going on and it was honestly really sweet and wholesome. I loved how their friendship and subsequent romance builds them both up and makes them better people-- they’re both stronger together, they’re equals, they’re partners. You really get a sense of camaraderie between the two and their relationship is founded on mutual respect, understanding, trust, and confidence in each other which I’m 100% on board with. Fenrir taking Alice onto the battle field with him is a testament of the rock solid trust between them. They have a very strong partner in crime vibe that I love! 

I adore how Fenrir refers to Alice as his “best friend” or his “best buddy” and it was just so cute, it made my heart swell because I’m a firm believer that your s/o SHOULD be your best friend.

Overall imo, Fenrir’s route is about on par with Lancelot’s, though it has higher highs and lower lows than Lancelot’s route did.

Anyway, I’m making my way through Edgar’s route currently (♥ω♥*).

[jinterlude]

Two Faced (Ch.6)

↳ gif header is made by © @softjeon. Please don’t try and steal it and make it your own.

➵ Pairing(s): Gang!Jungkook x Female!OC & Gang!Mark Lee x Female!OC x Gang!Seokjin

➵ Genre(s):  College!AU, Mafia/Gang!AU, Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Love Triangle & Slight-Fluff

➵ Warning(s): Mentions of anxiety // panic attack 

➵ Words: 6K

➵ Co-writer: @softjeon​

➵ Summary: Two girls. Two gangs. One craved absolute control over the city of Seoul. While, the other simply craved sleep and good grades. Now, what do these two ladies have in common? Simple. They have nothing in common—or so they think. Everyone knows the saying, “never judge a book by its cover”, so maybe there is something more to these two than meets the eye…especially when one of them is suddenly thrown into the underground life. Loyalties will be tested. Romance will blossom. Yup. Sounds like an average college day…

« Previously | Next Time »

Chapter 6 - Seeing a Whole New Side

Sowon rushed to the car, jumping into the passenger seat before she screamed for Taehyung to ‘fucking’ drive off. As soon as he was on the highway, she turned and climbed over on the backseat, not even caring that there was little to no room, as she hovered over Sumin.

“Hey baby,” Sowon said with a faint smile, soothing over the younger’s cheek. An arm wrapped Sowon’s waist, as Jungkook pulled her more onto his lap to keep her safe, while Taehyung was driving recklessly.

“Just try and keep her awake, Jinnie,” Sowon said, her gaze meeting Seokjin’s worried one. “She will be fine, don’t worry!” The leader reached out for the older member and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Trust me.”

Seokjin made a noise as he shot his leader a look of disbelief. How could be so sure that Sumin’s going to be fine. She currently laid, almost on the brink of unconsciousness, on his lap. Her breathing was practically faint as she fought to stay awake as Sowon instructed her to do.

“Can’t I just take a quick nap?” the gang heard the drugged victim mumble.

Sowon instantly snapped, “NO! Do not go to sleep, you hear me!”

Sumin scoffed softly with a tiny amused smile. Of course, that would her roomie’s reaction. But, she still wanted to ask anyway as the desire to close her eyes increased.

“Oh...I’m going to just close my eyes then…I’m not sleeping...” She mumbled in a slurred tone as her eyes fluttered shut.

Seokjin, Jungkook, and Sowon all snapped towards Sumin. Their eyes widened. Fear swiftly took control.

Being the first one to act, Seokjin gently cupped Sumin’s cheeks before lightly tapping them, hoping the annoying action would get her to awaken.

A few more occurred and nothing happened. Her eyes remained shut, causing the trio become even more worried.

Sowon’s heart was beating into overdrive, her chest rising heavily with every breath she took, her eyes fixated on Sumin. She couldn’t let anything happen to her. She just couldn’t.

As soon as Taehyung stopped in front of the mansion, Sowon jumped out of the van, the boys following her with Seokjin holding Sumin. But as soon as they were inside, Sowon snapped around. Sumin was barely keeping up on her own feet, holding onto Seokjin as she slurred a few mumbled words.

“I’ll take care of her,” Sowon growled low, taking Sumin out of Seokjin’s grip who looked at her in shock, but a hand on his shoulder made him shut his mouth again. Seokjin turned to see Jungkook next to him, before his gaze wandered back to Sowon who easily lifted the smaller woman princess style and carried her into the bathroom. She needed to do this alone. Arguing with the leader now could end deadly.

“Hey, baby,” She mumbled soothing over Sumin’s hair as she made the younger girl drink some water from a cup. She maneuvered Sumin over to the toilet and soothingly whispered, “I know this won’t feel good right but trust me…”

With an unpleasant expression on her own face, Sowon stuck her fingers down Sumin’s throat until some of the leftover alcohol and drugs evacuated her stomach. The leader kept a hold on her hair, while Sumin kept on coughing.

“I am sorry, baby,” She whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back as Sumin bend forward one more time. Sowon was worried out of her mind, making sure that the younger kept getting enough water into her system, soothing her and telling her that everything would be fine. Holding her in her arms, Sowon caressed over her arms, talking quietly to keep Sumin conscious.

A soft yet long groan left her lips as her throat felt raw. Throwing up was something Sumin never wanted to do again. She continued to gulp a few sips of water, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the burning sensation. Luckily, it did, even if it was only for a few moments before Sumin started to cough, creating moments that seemed like she was going to vomit again.

Hearing her cough almost violently pained Sowon as it triggered unwanted memories of her mother. While the situations were different, the heartache it caused wasn’t. Ever since the death of her mother, Sowon vowed to never feel that sort of distress ever again. Yet here she was, wanting to kill every single member of NCT for drugging Sumin. If she could, Sowon would personally go to NCT’s hideout and choke the living shit out of Mark.

But she couldn’t…at least not right now...

When the coughing sounds slowly subsided, Sowon helped her Sumin to clean herself up, wiping her mouth with a wet towel, before she picked up her weakened roommate and carried Sumin to her bed.

The worried leader gently placed her innocent sunshine on the bed and covered her body with the blanket, not worried about the fact that Sumin still wore her club outfit. At least her heels were taken off. She wouldn’t want Sumin to feel like someone had violated her and took her clothes off without her consent. So it was better this way. Nonetheless, Sowon carefully put a few fresh new clothes at the side of the bed, so her roommate had something for the next morning. Then she left for a moment, to bring back a bottle of water to put it onto the night table as well as some aspirin for the next morning.

Sowon then softly caressed Sumin’s cheeks before placing a sisterly kiss on her forehead. She pulled away slowly, smiling, as she softly thanked the stars that Sumin was safe out of the danger zone. She then took off her own heels before walking over to her side of the room. She headed towards the closet and quietly opened it. She picked out a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose white top before swiftly changing out of her club appearance.

She carelessly tossed her clothes into a nearby hamper before exiting the bedroom for a bit. She had too much pent up anger in her system that she needed to get rid of them or else she’d do something that could further endanger not only Sumin’s wellbeing, but Bangtan as well.

“I’ll be in the training room.” Sowon announced shortly as she brushed past Jungkook and Seokjin.

“Do you want me to go with?” Jungkook asked while she was still within earshot.

Sowon, unbothered to turn around, said,

“No.”

Jungkook raised his brow as he eyed his woman’s retreating body slowly disappear from his line of sight.

Seokjin eyes flickered from Jungkook and the bedroom door that would lead him to his princess. His lips pursed as tiny hums emitted from his lips; a small sign that displayed whenever the handsome elder contemplated doing he knows that shouldn’t be done.

Hearing those tiny hums, Jungkook’s attention instantly snapped on to the elder. His gaze darkened as if he warned Seokjin to do the complete opposite of what he’s thinking.

“This is my chance, Kook. I have to make sure that she’s alright.” Seokjin practically begged. An action that was a first for him.

A heavy, almost forced sigh escaped Jungkook’s lips as his eyes slowly closed. His right hand pinched the bridge of his nose while his left hand clenched and unclenched. His own little sign that showed how annoyed and/or pissed off he was. Right now...he was both.

“What do you think Seokjin?” Jungkook angrily hissed at him, “That Sowon left her with her not being alright? Are you stupid or something?” He pulled the older back by his collar and positioned himself in front of the door of the room, where Sumin was in. “We all get in…you’re in love and some shit,” He threw his hands up, “But let that poor girl be now. You can take a look at her tomorrow if Sowon finds out that you went in now, she will behead you and will never let you close Sumin again. She’s helpless and probably already sound asleep right now. Honestly, if I were in Sumin’s position right now, having a young, horny man in there wouldn’t be the first thing I want to wake up to! Especially not when I was drugged,” Jungkook made his point clear and Jin nodded defeatedly. “Now go!” He almost yelled at the other, “You can make her a lovely hangover breakfast tomorrow morning and play a perfect boyfriend then...but now, just go to fucking sleep!”

When Seokjin finally turned around, Jungkook sighed heavily. Raking through his hair, the young man made his way down to the training room, where he found his woman beating up a figure. “You know it’s already dead, babe,” He spoke softly.

Sowon didn’t react only kicked the figure harder, then another punch and another. She was screaming with each time her fist met the worn out leather of the punching bag until she was almost in rage.

“I hate him!” She screamed pushing the figure so hard that it fell over, despite its weight on the bottom. 

Then she stomped on it, completely lost in her anger until tears fell down her cheeks and only a few screamed out words were audible. Jungkook was by her side in a second, his hands wrapping around hers to pull her away but she was fighting his hold and it took a lot of strength until Sowon finally gave up. She sunk to her knees and Jungkook with her, still keeping his tight hold around her. She gasped for breath. Her eyes swollen from the tears as she choked on her sobs. She was lost in her memories, the pain it all awoke and the fear of putting Sumin into more danger than the sweet girl could take.

“Make it stop!” Sowon screamed in agony as she fell into Jungkook’s embrace, holding tight onto his shirt. Her tears falling uncontrollably as she was trapped in the middle of a panic attack.

Jungkook soothed over her hair, whispering, talking so sweetly to her to keep her with her, to not make her fall deeper into whatever headspace she was in right now.

“Breathe with me, baby...” He whispered softly as he kissed her nose, pulling Sowon onto one of the sports mat with him, that were lying around everywhere in the training room.

He then rocked her back and forth, keeping her safe.

When the sobs finally ebbed down, Sowon was shivering and Jungkook noticed how cold she felt. He had somehow managed to get his phone out and text one of the others, because knowing his girl, she wouldn’t want to go anywhere right now but rather stay here and not move until it all was over. She wouldn’t even let him move one bit with the way she was holding onto him for dear life right now, as if the moment Jungkook was gone she would slip again.

Only minutes later Yoongi and Jimin came into the room quietly, bringing a few blankets. 

“Is she alright?” Jimin asked right away, when he saw the way Sowon had curled in on herself, leaning onto Jungkook’s chest and hiding away from everything.

Jungkook nodded and took the blanket from Yoongi who helped him to drape it over them.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said and kissed the top of Sowon’s hair, “Just...a panic attack. Make sure that everything is ready tomorrow. She probably wants to plan everything right away.” He instructed, tightening his hold around his distressed woman.

Yoongi nodded and took Jimin’s hand, who was looking at their leader sadly. Nonetheless, he followed his boyfriend out and down into the basement, checking every gun, their equipment and every file they had about NCT.

The next day, this excruciating pain surfaced near the left side of her head. This throbbing sensation that made its presence known as Sumin slowly awaken from her much needed slumber. At first, her gaze was hazy; everything was practically a blur. But, after blinking a few times, her eyesight returned to normal.

Then, a short, faint groan escaped her lips as she slowly sat up. The cover lowered a smidge, revealing her club dress from the earlier events. She turned her head to the left, feeling a bit of a twinge in pain as she did.

What on Earth happened at the club?

One moment, she was drinking and trying to help gain some intel for Sowon and Bangtan. Then, suddenly, she was being helped out of the club; her mind completely in a daze as it fought to formulate enough words to tell her roommate that Mark was a member of NCT.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on Seokjin’s lap, and that’s it.

Everything before and after was only snippets. Maybe—if something triggered her brain enough—she could recall something incredibly important that would help Bangtan…

“What was in that drink?” Sumin questioned softly; her voice almost a whisper.

Then, her eyes noticed something on the end table. She focused on it and had saw a water bottle and a few aspirin settled next to it.

A faint smile graced her smile as she reached over the much needed medicine that could help nurse her hangover. Well—to be more exact—the aftermath of her drugged up episode.

Sumin popped in the pills before gulping down a few sips of water, helping the pain medicine travel smoothly down her throat. Afterwards, she swung her legs and took a deep breath before standing up.

She stretched out her sore muscles, specifically her back and neck muscles. Then, she walked over to the closet and picked out a pair of black sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt. There was no way she’d make an appearance wearing her club dress that seemed to be covered with tiny vomit stains.

Once changed, she tossed her clothes into the nearby hamper and tied her hair up into a messy bun.

Sumin opened the bedroom door and shyly peeked her head out. She glanced in both directions, not wanting to run into members of Bangtan right now.

After deeming that the coast was clear, Sumin tip-toed out of the bedroom and swiftly made her way to the stairwell. Her warm feet met the icy cold marble steps, creating tiny waves of shivers to shoot up her legs with each step.

Not wanting to feel the coldness any longer, she practically jumped the last two steps; though, careful to not make too much of an noise.

Now standing in the foyer, Sumin hummed to herself. Normally, she’d be starving but right now, she couldn’t stomach the thought of eating. However, she hungered for something else. She desired to know what happened to her after being rescued from Mark.

Thinking to herself, she tried to figure out where Sowon would be since she didn’t see the gang leader in her bed. She recalled tiny details of her roommate, hoping that they’d contain some sort of a clue that could aid her.

From her foggy memories, Sumin faintly heard Sowon’s agitated, demanding voice. So, if she was pissed off like Sowon, she would want to release that pent up frustration on something.

Then, a light bulb went off in her mind. The training room!

Sumin swiveled her body towards the direction of the training room and then dashed off. Well, not completely dash off but more like a quickly paced walk.

A few minutes later, Sumin strode down the empty hallway until, eventually, she reached the door that led to the training room.

Her hand hovered over the door handle. Why had she hesitate? There was no reason for her to be scared.

No.

She wasn’t scared…

She was sorry…

With a final deep breath, Sumin grasped the door handle and pushed it down. She slowly pushed it open, not wanting to disturb Sowon while she utilized the training room.

The more the anxious girl pushed, the more the door revealed the training room.

The second the door unveiled the contents of the room, Sumin gasped softly.

Instead of disrupting Sowon while she trained, Sumin invaded on a couple’s sleepover.

There laid Sowon and Jungkook, in each other’s embrace, as quiet snores filled the room.

A soft yet warm smile graced Sumin’s lips as she observed how peaceful the two of them looked.

“Maybe, I should come back…” She thought as she grasped the door handle.

And just as she pulled the door towards her, this annoying creak echoed throughout the room. Unknowingly, alarming Jungkook and causing him to wake up.

He slowly pried his eyes open, feeling a bit annoyed that his peaceful slumber had been disturbed.

Wanting to know who had the guts to wake him up, his eyes immediately homed in on the source of the noise.

However, once it did, his mind registered Sumin’s face, causing his eyes to widen.

He carefully untangled himself from Sowon’s grasp, making sure to not wake up his love.

Once freed, Jungkook swiftly and quietly rushed after Sumin. His hand grabbed the door handle and pulled it towards him, closing the door shut.

Sumin couldn’t help but look apologetic for disrupting his sleep, however, Jungkook wasn’t even remotely thinking about that.

He was thinking about how glad he was to see Sumin okay—especially for Sowon’s sake.

“How are you?” Jungkook asked, putting a reassuring hand on Sumin’s shoulder as he looked at her closely, looking for any signs that she wasn’t okay. 

Sumin nodded and pointed at the now closed door, feeling herself getting pushed into the other direction, “Did she fall asleep there?” Her curiosity always gotten the better of her.

“Yeah, kind of,” Jungkook said and let out a little sigh as he lead Sumin towards the kitchen. He turned to the fridge, opened it and got out some juice before he poured it in for Sumin to take. “Here, drink this it’ll make you feel better,” Jungkook almost ordered with a smile, so Sumin did as he told.

She had always wondered about Jungkook. Until today she never really talk to Sowon’s boyfriend as he was more of a quiet companion. There were so much she didn’t know about the members, yet. 

“Mark is a member of NCT!” Sumin blurted out to break through the awkward silence a little and Jungkook nodded.

“Yeah, Sowon noticed it and I think you whispered something about a tattoo to her, so she reacted quickly,” Jungkook bit his lip a little nervous, “How much do you remember”?

“Not much, honestly,” Sumin sipped on her juice, as she watched Jungkook preparing the coffee machine. If she didn’t know they were all gang members, this would feel domestic.

“To make it short: You got drugged. It wasn’t too much to our luck, since you’re alive and on your feet already, but it was enough for you to blackout in the car,” Jungkook said, watching Sumin’s reaction carefully, “Mark is one of NCT….so, whatever you did, you did right! Thank you for that.” Jungkook showed off a sweet smile and prepared himself a coffee, before he sat down next to Sumin again, “There’s another reason why Sowon was mad last night, as you probably figured or else you wouldn’t go to the training room, right? You’re smart.” The leader’s boyfriend winked at her, before he took a long sip from his coffee, welcoming the awakening effect in his body.

After taking a few more sips, welcoming the bitter yet much appreciated nectar, Jungkook put aside his coffee mug before fixating his gaze back on Sumin.

“Listen to me, Sowon is not like what you think. She loves you like a little sister,” Jungkook chuckled low, “I’ve never seen her like this, honestly. Normally, she only hangs around us, or boys in general. It’s weird that she took you with her that night. It’s something she normally never does. I think she saw something in you. Anyways, she is scared. For you. For your life. So, please be gentle with her if she demands for you to walk around with a bodyguard all day.” Pointing at one of the rooms down the floor, Jungkook added, “Jin probably won’t have any problems doing that. He got a huge crush on you.” Not really caring about just revealing Seokjin’s feelings towards Sumin and possibly overwhelming her with everything, so he just simply kept on talking, “Sowon had a bad panic attack last night. She’s human, after all—even though she is a leader. A lot of people that meant something to her had been taken away from her and she couldn’t prevent it. If anyone even touches you, you can be sure that she will behead them right away.”

Sumin gasped softly. Not because she’s scared. No. It’s because she’s shocked, but in a good way.

From her little time of knowing Sowon, she always came off as this strong, guarded woman. Yet, here Sumin, hearing Sowon’s boyfriend tell her differently. And, through her fuzzy memory, she also had a chance to witness it.

          “I never realized that she had grown attached to me so quickly…” mumbled the shy girl as she gently traced the rim of her cup with her index finger.

Jungkook sighed softly as this small smile graced his face.

“Yeah me neither. I honestly thought that Sowon would simply use you as bait and maybe have you as a servant to Bangtan and then call it day,” Jungkook paused, taking a good look at Sumin, “However, as I talk to you and recall how my girlfriend interacts with you, I can see why she’d become quite attached to you. Shit, I can see why Seokjin has developed this giant ass crush on you.” He said, chuckling a bit near the end.

Sumin squeaked. Her face grew warm once again while her eyes widened.

“I don’t understand why though. I mean, Seokjin is quite the handsome fella. He can get anyone he wanted with little to no effort.” She stated, stuttering over a few words.

But before Jungkook could open his mouth to say something snarky; usually something that would insult the oldest member of Bangtan, he was interrupted by the person of the hour.

“I’m glad that you think that my handsome face is on a worldwide scale, princess.” said Seokjin as he walked up to his lady and placed a sweet kiss on her temple, causing the poor girl to tense up just a bit.

While, with Jungkook, he simply gagged as he rolled his eyes.

“She didn't say that you're this worldwide handsome guy…” He pointed out, shooting the elder a knowing look.

Seokjin waved his words off, “Well not word for word, but she was thinking it,” He then switched his focus towards Sumin, “Right, princess?” He asked, secretly seeking comfort from his innocent angel.

Sumin made a noise. Her eyes flickered between Seokjin and Jungkook.

Great…

The one time she needed Sowon and her perfect timing, she was still sound asleep.

Fuck…

“Shut up, Jin” A low voice behind them said. Raking through his hair tiredly, Yoongi looked at the older member and shushed them right before he could say something again, pushing him towards the kitchen. “Make us a hangover breakfast and stop flirting with women that are way out of your league,” Yoongi grumbled, pouring in some coffee before he retreated towards the couch and sat on it with his eyes closed.

It didn’t take long for Jimin to tiptoe out of the same room, Yoongi came out from only minutes ago. One by one, each member was waking up and gathered around the coffee table, getting themselves comfortable with breakfast and coffee. It almost seemed domestic. Like one big family. Jungkook had sat down right next to Sumin, keeping Seokjin from inching closer to the poor girl that was shyly drinking from her cup.

Jungkook glared or rolled his eyes at Seokjin each time, the older tried to get to the girl, offering her more coffee or something to eat.

“She said she’s not hungry anymore ten times now,” Jungkook hissed and pushed Seokjin back on his chest. Sumin blushed, not really sure how to get used to the attention and having so many people around that were happily chatting as if they hadn’t been on a mission last night.

Only a while later, the chatter died down, when the sound of heels clicking on the marble was audible and everyone looked up at Sowon, who was gracefully walking down the steps. Her hair was still a little wet from the shower she took, but other than that the gang leader was fully dressed in her usual dark attire. Her steps got a little quicker, when she saw Sumin and Sowon got right over to her.

Not saying a word, she pressed her hand on Sumin’s forehead, checking if the younger girl had some fever.

“Are you okay? Did you drink? Eat?” Sowon fired question after question, “Do you still feel sick?”

Sumin smiled softly, secretly finding Sowon rather amusing with her fire rapid questions.

“Uh... “ The blushing girl began, feeling the trillion stares from the fellas, “I’m fine considering what happened last night. I did drink thanks to Jungkook. He poured me some juice. As for eating, I did thanks to Seokjin. Though, I think he’s secretly trying to fatten me up.” Sumin answered, covering every single question that her worried friend had asked. To ease the tension, she threw in some humor.

Sowon raised her brow, “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that you’re okay to get me to leave you alone?”

Sumin violently nodded her head, not wanting to bother her newly found older “sibling”.

“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a bit shaken up considering that I never been drugged before, however, I’m overall content knowing that I was able to help you guys.” She told everyone, displaying a sincere smile on her face.

Sowon couldn’t help but stare at Sumin in awe. She had her mouth opened yet no words came out. Only a consistent hum was heard in the dining area.

Jungkook stared at his woman, unsure if he should do something. His eyes flickered from his normally talkative girlfriend to the person who rendered her speechless.

“What should I do?” He mouthed to Sumin, who was just as confused.

Sumin simply shrugged; confusion decorated her face. While, on the other hand, Seokjin, who managed to sneak around Jungkook and stand behind her, began formulating an idea on how to get the gang leader to snap out of it.

“Hey, can I take Sumin on a romantic date?” He asked, earning a few looks of disbelief from his members.

Sowon glared at him for a second, before her features softened again. “That’s not my decision to make,” She looked over at Sumin and then back towards Seokjin, “She is free to do what she wants. I’ll bring you back to the dorms later, okay? Just rest until then, sunshine.”

Sowon turned, only to come to a halt again, when she stood right next to Jin. A tight grip on his arm, made him hiss in pain, “If you dare to hurt her in any way….be aware that I will fucking torture you.” Then she let go and simply walked over towards Jungkook, as she sat down beside him, motioning for Sumin to come sit down with her.

The others were gawking, not really sure what just happened. No one dared to say anything. Everyone was drinking their coffee and eating their breakfast in silence. That was until Taehyung suddenly spoke up and broke through the awkwardness. With a mouth full of food, he looked at the gang leader, “Sowon?” She cocked her head to the side, Jungkook’s arm wrapped around her as she leaned onto him.

“Is it true...that you and Jungkook? I mean...I heard Mark say something,” He stuttered not really sure if he was even allowed to ask a question like that, “I heard him calling you Jeon Sowon.”

A gasp fell from the members lips. Jin was even tearing his gaze off from Sumin, now looking at the leader and her boyfriend. Jimin’s gaze was flickering between them as well, only to look at Yoongi again, who was looking rather annoyed and just wanted to drink his coffee in silent.

“Guess I can’t keep that my secret my own anymore, fucking NCT,” Sowon hissed, wondering how they knew. 

Her mind raced with every possibility and only when she saw Sumin’s rather shocked expression, she shook herself out of her thoughts again. 

“Oh, yeah, last year in Vegas,” Sowon shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Jungkook, before he continued, “We thought now or never…and before you ask, we weren’t drunk. It’s a myth that they wed people drunk. We were very much aware of what we were doing. Sorry, we didn’t invite you guys, but you were out on a mission.”

“And you thought, a wedding in between would be nice?” Seokjin asked a little dumbfounded, earning himself a nod from Jungkook. Looking at his wife fondly, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You can close your mouth, honey,” Jungkook sat and reached out for Sumin, tipping her chin lightly.

Sumin swatted Jungkook’s hand away, disliking being teased like a little kid. She then puffed out her cheeks as she tried her hardest to wrap her mind around the fact that her roommate turned gang leader was now a married woman. 

What’s next? Sowon had like a detailed tattoo just under her boobs or something?

”Wait, how did you know that?” Sumin suddenly heard Sowon ask, “Were you spying on me while I was taking a shower? Damn, my innocent little sunshine isn’t that innocent!” the gang leader teased, grinning widely at the younger girl.

A low groan escaped Sumin’s lips as she thought, “I really should make sure that my thoughts are actually thoughts and not blurted out sentences.”

“Yeah, you really should work on that, princess…” This time she heard Seokjin say, patting her head lightly.

The second she heard his voice, and it finally registered in her mind, Sumin’s face became this bright red color.

It was if someone took a bucket of red paint and threw it right in her face.

That’s how embarrassed this poor girl was.

While with everyone else, they were finding her quite adorable. Kind of like a breath of fresh air to the usual mixture of their personalities that filled the mansion.

After their eventful breakfast, Sumin retreated to Sowon’s room to get some more rest and finally take a shower. She still felt like there was make up sticking everywhere. When she laid down in bed again, dozing off a little, she could feel a pair of arms wrap around her waist. She stiffened for a second, before the soothing voice of Sowon gave away of the intruder.

Both girls slept peacefully, with Sumin tightly wrapped in Sowon’s embrace until they both could feel the bed dip again. The leader snapped her eyes open right away and let out a frustrated groan when she was saw who was hovering over Sumin.

“I’m just here to wake my princess and the grumpy leader,” Seokjin whispered and pulled Sumin from Sowon into his own embrace, keeping the girl safe and warm, who was still fast asleep.

With another pull, Sowon got Sumin closer to herself again, her hand soaring up to wrap around Seokjin’s neck, choking him playfully, 

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Sowon threatened quietly yet harshly, though, the playful look in her eye said otherwise. 

“I thought she was allowed to do her...own….decisions now,” Seokjin choked out the words, when Sumin stirred in her sleep, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Sowon looked at her roommate with a blinding smile, her hand still on Seokjin’s neck—as if it was perfectly normal to wake up from a nap like this.

Sumin yawned, rubbing her tired eyes a bit more, as she slowly registered the fact that Sowon was indeed choking the living out of Seokjin.

Jungkook was right, Sowon had become extremely protective over her because of what Mark had done.

And to think...she thought Sowon was already a bit smothering with her constant cuddles…

A few days later, after what seemed like an eternity of captivity in the mansion, Sumin and Sowon happily strolled through the double doors, laughing at something that Seokjin had done the day prior.

Apparently, the handsome elder thought it would be a great idea to sneak into Sumin’s bedroom, not knowing that Sowon had switched beds with her because she wanted to sleep on Jungkook’s bed.

“I’m just warning you, my little sunshine. Jinnie boy is apparently a cuddler and will not let you go even if you asked.” Sowon said, swinging an arm and wrapping it around Sumin’s shoulder.

Sumin made a face and just as she was about to response, the two girls heard the shouts of their RA.

“Finally, there you are! I was about ready to break into your apartment and dump all of your packages there!” The RA yelled, officially at her breaking point with the amount of packages that were being delivered to the residency.

Sumin couldn’t help but feel apologetic, while with Sowon, she didn’t like the tone that the RA used with her roommate. It wasn’t her fucking fault that someone, most likely Seokjin, loved her enough to keep sending her presents.

The younger girl bowed her head just a smidge, avoiding eye contact with the angry person, as she made her way to the front desk with Sowon closely trailed behind.

The RA gathered box after box as she stacked them nice and neat onto the desk causing Sumin’s eyes to bulge.

Holy shit...why was there so many packages?

Sumin then grabbed one of the boxes and asked Sowon to open it up. The older woman reached for her back pocket, pulled out her key chain that had a tiny pocket knife attached.

The gang leader pushed up the knife and then stabbed it in between the duct tape. She pulled it in one direction and then the other before putting it away. Afterwards, Sowon pulled the box flaps apart, revealing the hidden contents of the package.

Both hers and Sumin’s brows furrowed; tiny wrinkles formed on their foreheads.

The two girls looked to each other before Sumin freed one of her hands and then grasped this expensive, designer bag out of the box.

The surprised girl took in the intricate details of the bag, noting the beautiful crystals that were shaped into this sunflower.

Just as Sumin opened her mouth to ask Sowon if she had any knowledge of Seokjin sending her this, the door opened as a man carrying a vase of gorgeous red roses came walking in.

The RA sighed loudly, “Let me guess, you’re here for Park Sumin, right?”

The flower delivery guy looked surprised, “Yeah, how did you know?”

The RA faked a laugh and instead of answering the person, she then pointed to the poor girl, who still held on to the designer bag, before disappearing into the office.

The flower delivery guy blinked a few times before snapping back into his sense. He then handed over the vase to the girl.

“I’m going to need you sign this.” He politely instructed as he held out an electronic device.

Sumin handed the bag over to Sowon, freeing up a hand to sign for the flower delivery.

The flower delivery guy thanked Sumin before leaving the dorm building.            

“Why is my little ray of sunshine so damn popular?” Sowon questioned with a playful tone of voice as Sumin blushed, smiling nervously.

“I don’t know…” Sumin mumbled as her eyes noticed a card nestled nicely in the roses.

Sowon too noticed the card as she rested her chin on Sumin’s shoulder.

“I hope these flowers bring a smile upon your face. Just like you have done to me after only meeting each other once. I hope to see you again…

Your Secret Admirer”

Sumin finished reading the card; her heart sped up as she read word after word of the card. She didn’t know she had this type of affect on someone—especially someone like Seokjin.

“I think I should talk to Seokjin about going on that date.”

“I think you two should talk about getting married!”

“Sowon!”

A/N: I am quite proud that Jey and I had managed to get this chapter done. Just throwing that out there! Anyway, what did you guys think of all the cute, soft moments that occurred the morning after meeting NCT at the club? Personally, I live for those types of moments lol 

Oh, I’m here to announce that Chapter 6 of Our Second Chance is currently underway! So, by the time this is released, chapter 6 for that story should be completed with both the writing and editing process! HURRAY! It’s been like a month since I last updated it lol So, I’m happy!

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/and an ask in mine or Jey’s inbox! We love hearing your thoughts!

- Kim

[kookiesspacebuns]

Suite 114 | Pt. 10 |

■ pairing: Jimin X OC

■ genre: fluff, smut

■ words: 3.6k

■ a/n: Well.....I know I took forever to upload this. Writer's block is a bitch. But here it is! After some motivation from a few readers, some amazing Jimin dreams and all of the cutest new Jimin content lately....I finally felt it in me to write! Sorry for the long wait 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

MASTERLIST

I trace my fingers across the porcelain face laying next to me. The tips of my fingers follow the soft rays of the early morning sunlight, filtering through the window behind me and onto his peaceful, sleeping form. My touch lingers on his pillowy bottom lip as I recall the events from the night before.

I feel so out of place next to this almost god-like man and self conscious all of a sudden. I retract my fingers from his pink mouth. A deep ache burrows its way into my heart, along with sudden fear and realizations.

This can’t last. It's too good to be true. This may change everything.

I frown at the thoughts invading my head and watch Jimin's chest rise and fall with every slow breath he takes. I've never been one to have regrets, and I definitely don't regret what happened between us, but I do fear for my heart. The new feelings that encompassed my heart last night scare me but I don't want to miss out on this once in a lifetime experience. Even if it may be fleeting. Even if it leaves my heart in pieces on the floor. I want to enjoy the ride, with no regrets.

I check my phone to see that it's just after 5 am.

Holy shit.

We slept unmoving for over twelve hours. It couldn't have been later than four when we fell asleep yesterday. I guess all of my wet dreams kept me from fully resting the past few days, and I'm sure Jimin had to be utterly exhausted from working so hard too. No wonder I feel well rested and wide awake.

I creep out of bed, making sure not to disturb his slumber, and take a hot shower. The steaming hot water envelops my body and clears my mind of all thoughts, except for one. Thank you, whoever invented the hot water heater.

I snicker at the silly thought and stick my face under the stream of water.

“What's so funny?”

I yelp and cover my chest out of instinct, while my foggy eyes try and make out the figure standing outside the shower door.

“Jimin!” I exclaim, placing a hand over my pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He slides the shower glass door open a few inches and pokes his head through. “Can I join you?” His eyes scan my naked, wet body.

“Umm, okay.” I reply shyly, still trying to cover myself.

He smiles and steps into the shower, shutting the sliding door behind him. My eyes instantly lower to the hardness between his legs. The sight of his thickness and the memory of how it felt inside of me, has me wet instantly.

Jimin reaches up and touches the bottom of my chin to close my mouth that I didn't realize was gaping open. I blush up at his gorgeous, smirking face. His thumb brushes over my cheek.

“You can't be shy now, after how you were last night.”

I purse my lips and direct my vision onto his bare chest, knowing full well he's right. He unfolds my arms and places them back down. His gaze lingers on my hardened nipples before moving up to meet my eyes. Before I can comprehend what is happening, he hooks his hand under my right knee and lifts my leg up exposing my heated core to the cool air. I inhale sharply when his fingers slide down my folds with ease and tease around my entrance.

Jimin closes the little distance between us, so that water sprays onto his dark hair and down the side of his body. Wet strands of hair stick to his face, making him look dark and sinister. My heart squeezes at the way he looks down at me.

He kisses me passionately, pressing my skin into the cold tile, as his fingers explore me. The taste of him overpowers all of my senses and I lock away the memory of how he tastes away, never wanting to forget it's sweetness. His lips leave me tentatively and he places his forehead against mine. His lower hand stills, allowing me to release a shaky, pent up breath.

“I don't think I'll ever get enough of you.” His warm breath cascades down my face. Goosebumps spread over my body at his statement. The reality of our relationship threatens to crash over me, but his velvety voice pushes it away. “I don't want to leave.”

I want to say 'Then don't leave’, but I know he eventually has to. I just don't know when. Instead of speaking, I grab his face between my two hands and kiss him again. I kiss him until we forget everything. Until the only thing taking up our minds is the undeniable desire for each other.

He enters me suddenly, his length pressing deep into me until his lower belly is pressing against mine. I whine and reach over his shoulders to grab onto him as he lifts me up the wall. He raises my leg up higher and grabs onto my waist for leverage.

He pounds into me relentlessly, our combined moans filling the small bathroom. Within minutes I'm falling apart in his grasp, whimpering his name into his ear as he lays his cheek against my neck.

“Jimin…..I-I’m.”

He leaves my neck to press his head against mine again. “Yes, tell me.” He demands quietly.

“Ah-I…. I'm cumming.”

He groans, a sound that has me curling my toes. “M-me….too.” He says, before throwing his head back.

His grip tightens on my hip as he cums inside of me, his thrusts turning hard and reaching deeper than before. We hold each other under the, now cool, flowing water, not saying a word as our post-orgasm highs dissipate.

I gently pull away from his embrace, despite my body telling me no, to wash up. “We should probably wash now.” I say while soaping up a washcloth.

“We should.” He responds, but stands still, watching quietly as I clean myself. When I reach between my legs he stops me and takes the cloth from my hand to clean me himself. His hand moving between at my center sends gentle pleasure through me again, but thankfully he's done before it becomes too much.

I rinse myself off, very aware of his gaze on me. When I'm done I stand under the stream unmoving, not knowing what to do next. He smirks and starts washing himself with the bar of soap. The cold water sends me into a shivering fit and I rub my arms for warmth.

“Why are you making yourself suffer? Go get warm, I'll be out soon.” He says calmly, after seeing me shake.

I nod and get out of the shower. After drying off and throwing on some lounge pants and a shirt I go search through my fridge to see what I can make for breakfast.

Halfway through preparing food, I realize that this is the first time I've ever made a meal for anyone other than my sister. I've never had a guy stay over either...or had sex with a famous person.

This week has been a week of some crazy firsts.

As I'm placing a piece of bacon in the pan, Jimin walks into the kitchen rubbing a towel through his dark hair. He's shirtless with the black jeans from last night hanging low on his hips. My eyes follow the deep 'V’ on his lower belly until it disappears underneath the thick waistband. Pain shoots up my arm and I pull it away from the stove to rub with my other hand.

He places the towel on the back of one of the dining chairs. “You okay?”

My skin is a little red where the grease popped me, but it's nothing bad. I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah.” I say.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before I remember that I'm cooking and turn to the stove again. I keep getting distracted.

“I'm almost done.” I tell him as he continues to watch me curiously.

“Do you want help?”

“I'm good, but thank you.” I point with the tongs I have in my hand at the dining table. “You can sit down if you want.”

He nods and sits in the chair where he draped the towel over and places his elbows on the table, rests his head in his hands and follows my every move as I finish cooking. His face lights up when I place a full plate of food in front of him. I feel relief at how fast he digs into the food, the fear of him not liking it leaving my mind.

“This is so good.” He says in between bites.

I stop picking at my plate to smile at him. “Really? I'm glad you like it. This is what my mom used to make when I was a kid.”

He finishes everything, even going as far as lifting the plate to his mouth to get the last bits of egg.

“Is your mom from America?”

“She is actually. My dad and her moved back a couple of years ago after me and my sister moved out.”

He wrinkles his eyebrows and I can't help but think how adorable his facial expressions are.

“They left you guys here?” He asks.

“Well, they wanted us to go with them, but we didn't want to. Korea is our home.”

He smiles at that. “I'm glad you stayed.”

I blush, looking down at the table. “Me too.”

I notice him glancing at my plate. “There's more food, do you want some more?” He flashes another smile, briefly fogging my mind as I stare at his beautiful face.

“I would if that's okay. I haven't eaten much lately. Now that shooting is over I can ease up.”

I frown at his words before serving him more. I watch him clear the second plate before speaking. “I wish they weren't so tough on you.” I say.

He looks up at me, his brown eyes shining. “I'm used to it.” He shrugs and downs a glass of water I sit in front of him.

Sighing I take our dishes to the sink and start washing everything. Jimin gets up and comes to stand beside me, grabbing the clean, soapy dish out if my hands to rinse it.

“Let me help you.”

I smile up at him and nod. His hips press against my lower waist, constantly reminding me of how he's basically half baked beside me. I catch a few glances at his abs pressing against the counter whenever he leans forward. The sight mesmerizes me and I unknowingly leave food stuck to dishes a couple of times, which he points out to me each time takes them from my grasp.

“You seem very distracted, Anna.” He looks down at me, catching my lost expression before I can wipe it off of my face. “What are you thinking of?”

I shake my head and hand him the last dish. “Nothing. Just thinking of how dirty these dishes are.” I say, cringing mentally at my lame excuse.

His cute laughter fills my ears.

“You're a bad liar you know.” He touches my waist and beckons with his fingers for me to turn. I give in and let him pull me against his bare chest, in between his slightly spread legs as he rests against the countertop.

“No I'm not.” I pout, knowing full well that I am.

He leans in and presses his full lips to my jaw, teasing me with small kisses up to my ear. “Don't lie to me.” He whispers in my ear.

I shiver in his arms and close my eyes, relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. His fingers travel up my belly and he grazes his thumbs under the bottom of my bra. I run my hands up his smooth neck and lace my fingers in his long hair, gently pulling his face from my neck so that I can kiss those teasing lips.

Our mouths connect for a moment before the doorbell rings, ruining the moment. We break apart, the both of us groaning in annoyance.

Reluctantly, I leave him standing in the kitchen to see who's at the door. My eyes widen in surprise at the man standing outside my apartment door.

Sporting a loose fitted blue shirt, tucked into black slacks, Kim Namjoon tucks his hands into his pants pockets and bounces anxiously while staring at the welcome mat where his feet rest. His head jerks up when he realizes I've opened the door already. His mouth opens for a few seconds before he speaks.

“Are you Anna?” He asks.

I frown, clearly remembering meeting him at the fan meet last week. I guess he's seen so many faces he forgot mine already.

“Yes..”

“Why did you come, hyung?” Jimin stands just a few feet behind me, now with the shirt from yesterday on, with a grim look on his face. I step aside, putting my back against the front door so that they can see each other.

Namjoon perks up at seeing Jimin. “Jimin, you can't just abandon your duties whenever you feel like it.” He says sternly, an authority in his voice I've never heard before.

Jimin runs his hand through his hair and looks down at his feet. He doesn't respond.

I step back, making room for Namjoon to enter. “Um..come in.” I wave my hand out beside me, as if he's about to enter a grand palace, but instead he enters a shabby cramped two bedroom apartment.

“Thank you.” He says softly to me as he walks through the threshold.

“You can take a seat, I'll get you something to drink.” I put on my grown up act to help ease the awkwardness filling the air.

Grabbing a few sodas from the fridge I head back into the living room where Jimin is now seated on the couch beside Namjoon who is closely examining a ceramic figure of an elephant that usually sits on my coffee table.

“This is all I have.” I place the cans on the glass-top table.

Namjoon jumps when I talk and almost loses grip on the figurine before I hear a faint cracking sound.

The trunk of the elephant lays broken in his palm. “Shit. Um….I'm so sorry. I-I can get you another one. Where did you buy this?” He stammers on nervously. Jimin snickers into his hand beside him.

A smile threatens to take over and I can't resist what comes out of my mouth. “It was a gift to my mother from when she visited India.” I watch as both boys’ eyes widen in shock. l and I swear I see Namjoon’s lips tremble.

“Oh my God, I….I…” he stutters.

I break out into laughter, resisting the silly urge to slap my knee at my own joke. “I'm just kidding! Don't worry, we bought it at the dollar store.”

Jimin doubles over, laughing the hardest I've seen him laugh since meeting him. Warmth fills my chest at seeing him so joyful. Namjoon on the other hand looks slightly annoyed.

“I'm sorry, that was rude of me.” I apologize to him.

“No, no. You got me good.” He finally smiles, dimples making their appearance on his tanned cheeks. “Sorry for showing up so suddenly. It's just that Jimin here, left and decided to only tell one person where he was going.” He turns to Jimin, whose face is far from the joyous one he had just moments before.

“Oh.” I sit down in the armchair perpendicular to the couch.

Jimin holds one of the unopened soda cans in his hands, running his finger along the outside rim, looking like a toddler who was just put in time out. The sight would have made me giggle if it weren't for the ache shrouding my rib cage.

Namjoon breaks the thick silence. “Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”

Jimin sits up and places the can back on the table. “Because I knew you wouldn't have let me leave if I told you.”

“So you tell Taehyung and not me?”

“Exactly.”

Namjoon places his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “You know we're supposed to be packing everything to go home today. You knew and you still left.”

My heart drops from its place. They are leaving today? Jimin is leaving.

Jimin looks at me, sadness covering his usually always smiling face. I avoid his eyes and stare at my lap.

“I know, hyung. But this is our last day, I had to.”

Namjoon sighs loudly. “You know that this has to stay secret, right? If the company were to find out…...if our fans were to find out. They'd eat her alive.” I gulp, knowing he's right. The few rumors that had been spread about the members dating shined some light on just how crazy some of the fan base is. I don't want to be attacked like those women were, especially by a fan base I myself am a part of. “If you guys are going to keep this up, you need to be more discreet. Anyone can follow either of you and take pictures. Please remember that.”

Jimin rubs his eyes. “I know.”

Namjoon looks directly at me. “I don't want you to think that I'm against you, because I'm not. I see how how he's been the past few days. We all have. And I support anything that brings him happiness, even if it's considered forbidden. Just, please….please be careful.”

I blink and nod my head fast. The emotions running through me, preventing me from speaking.

“Thank you, hyung.” Jimin says, remnants of shock slowly leaving his face, being replaced my admiration.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon stands up and glances between Jimin and I.

“I'll be in the car waiting, Jimin. Say your goodbyes for now.” He walks towards the door but stops to look at a picture of me and Mina, that sits on the table by the front door. He picks it up and holds it closer to his face. “Is this the girl you went to the fan meet with?”

“Umm yes.”

I swear I see his eyes sparkle. “What's her name again?”

“Mina.” I smirk at his interest in her. She'd probably pass out if she knew. The thought makes me realize just how long it's been since we last talked. I'll have to call her later. “You're her bias.” I throw in mischievously.

His head snaps towards me. “Really?” His amazed expression makes me giggle.

“Yes. You're her main squeeze.” What in the hell did I just say? I need to gain some social skills, yesterday.

He places the picture back down and opens the front door. “Make it quick.” He says, aimed at Jimin.

The door shutting sounds too loud, even though it shut normally. I grow nervous, being alone with Jimin again. Things feel tense.

Standing up I start to walk towards my room. “I'll get your stuff.”

He grabs my arm, as I walk past, and pulls me in front of him. I stand between his spread legs, his head tilted up to gaze at me.

“I'm sorry about all of this.”

If hearts could stop beating and still keep you alive, mine would do it right now. What does he mean? All of what?

“For what?” I ask hesitantly.

“For leaving like this. For not telling you. I thought I would have more time to see you before leaving.”

My chest hurts, literal pain. He's talking as if he's never coming back….as if he's never going to see me again. Panic sets in and sweat breaks out over my skin along with the annoying urge to vomit.

“I only live an hour away, so I can come visit you when I can or you can go visit me. If you want.” I remember to breath. He's not leaving me. “The comeback is in a little over a week and I'll be busy, but I promise to make time for you.” He rests his chin on my belly and gazes up at me, his glittering eyes bigger than ever.

I gaze back at his gorgeous face and feel so much relief. He wants to keep seeing me. I would have felt absolutely broken if he had left and never looked back after the night we just shared together.

The thought crosses my mind that things are moving way too fast, but my heart tells it to shut up. I run my palm up and down his face and look into his eyes until he can't stand it anymore. He grabs onto my wide hips and stands up, pressing his lips into mine bruisingly hard. My mind empties.

“Is that okay?” He asks.

“Hmm?” I question him, hungover from his intoxicating mouth. “Oh! Yes.” I smile and kiss him again but this time it's softer. Grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him in closer.

Ringing sounds from my room. Jimin grunts into my mouth and pulls away. “That's probably Namjoon.” He says kissing the corner of my mouth.

He gathers his few belongings from my room and walks back into the living room slowly. His hand finds the back of his neck and rubs relentlessly at it. Why is he so cute when he's nervous? Scratch that, why is he always so cute?

Knowing that he wants to stay in touch has me feeling happier than ever. No amount of awkwardness could ruin my mood.

“So…” he draws out. “I'll text you.”

I smile and close the distance between us. “Okay. I'll be waiting.”

He flashes me a knee-weakening smile and kisses me passionately until we're both out of breath before stepping out of the door. But not before waving goodbye like the cute little mochi that he is. 

MASTERLIST

[anonthenullifier]

Considering how many times Thomas gets called to detention, it would probably come as a huge shock to their parents if William was the one they had to come talk about.

You really have a knack for giving me prompts that lead to a sudden word dump of ideas. Here’s how it could go down, in my mind.

Wanda steps a foot back, arms held up and steady as her fingers weave a scarlet net to contain a cluster of the floating blobs - or, as Scott has lovingly named them, Snot Aliens. Slowly she hovers the imprisoned beings towards the containment unit Stark finally set up, inching the aliens closer while ensuring she is out of range in case they drop to the ground. She’s already seen almost all of her teammates fall prey to the fatal error of directly engaging with these things, Steve’s shield is still stuck to the ground with an, as Vision explained, impressively structured natural adhesive compound. Wanda figures she has paid her penance in the realm of encountering mucous, raising twin boys who caught every single cold that was passed at daycare, school, between friends, and even just people passing on the street, and instead of blowing their noses (kleenex were a sure way to cause a tantrum), the boys would find ways to wipe it on her. The net tightens with a scrunch of her fingers, only two more feet before she can let go.

A buzzing fills her ear, not the typical two note burst that indicates someone on the team is about to talk, but a constant, unwelcome ringing. Wanda straightens her pinky enough to send a flash of red to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Maximoff,” the voice is perky, the polite smile clear in the hyperactive spewing of her name, “this is Jody from the Principal’s office.”

One hand pulls away from holding the aliens long enough to rub her face in exasperation, Jody is never who she wants to find on the other end and yet even her phone recognizes the frequency of their conversations enough to label Jody as a favorite in the contacts. Wanda tries to imbue her response with friendliness while also hoping the woman can pick up on the fact it is not a good time. “Hi Jody, everything okay?”

“We have your son at the office,” it’s an innocuous enough statement, minus the judgmental harshness of the unspoken again.

Wanda glances at the scarlet net and then at the numerous official news cameras and the even more multitudinous amateur videographers filming the entire attack. “Can we come in some other time, we’re a bit,” one of the aliens starts to ooze through the net, a sickening sight that will haunt her dreams for the week, “busy right now.”

A well-oiled sigh, one that has likely taken years to perfect, judges her through the communicator, “At the Academy we truly believe the children are the pinnacle of existence, no one should ever be too busy for their child.”

Which is a statement that, though true on the face of it, really doesn’t apply, in Wanda’s opinion, to dropping a net full of noxious Snot Aliens just to be lectured for a sixth time on why Tommy is apparently doomed to fail in life because he wore the wrong khakis.“Have you seen the news?”

“I have a job to do, Mrs. Maximoff.”

The correct answer here is that Wanda also has a job, a very interesting one that is also important and that some things can wait, yet she gives in, not wanting to risk losing their spots at the one school so far that the boys seem to mostly enjoy. “Fine, we’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Maximoff.”

The line dies in her ear and Wanda shakes her head, wrists snapping flippantly as she tosses the aliens towards the containment unit, ignoring the Watch it! from Tony, and finds her husband, who is currently flickering in and out of existence. “Maximoff?”

His body solidifies long enough to showcase a sheepish roundness to his eyes and the neon green patch of slime that covers the entirety of his chest. “Wanda?” The phasing resumes, likely his foolhardy attempt to get the substance off of him.

“Jody called.”

Vision stops, head cocked to the side as his cape floats regally down behind him, “Tommy?”

“I assume so.”

His shoulders cave and he might, though it could just be a trick of the shadows caused by the buildings, rolls his eyes. “What is it this time?”

Wanda shrugs, “She didn’t say.” Her hand sneaks between his arm and torso, coming to rest on the inside of his elbow, careful to stay away from the slime, and tugs him into action, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The hallways are empty as they follow the memorized path, their feet moving automatically as their hands take turns gesticulating their concerns. “I believe we need to rethink our forms of punishment.”

Wanda agrees, the continued disobedience at school an undeniable signal that Tommy isn’t learning much from their lectures and grounding. “I don’t even know what else is left, Vizh.”

“I believe you do.” A reluctant, grave foreboding drips from his sentence and she immediately knows the next logical step, one they’ve tiptoed towards but can never seem to justify actually going that far, particularly because the offenses are usually so small. Vision, if she tried to argue that now, would point out that, though small, the conglomeration of all the offenses is actually enormous, especially if they look beyond just this school and at the others, some of Tommy’s behaviors the impetus for them no longer welcomed at those institutions.

Regardless of the rationale, Wanda can’t bring herself to agree. “The Young Avengers is literally the only thing that keeps him somewhat manageable.” The number of offenses and backtalk at home have greatly decreased in the time the Young Avengers Initiative has been active, and the peace from that is hard to willinging give up. “It could lead to worse behavior.”

“Or,” Vision draws it out, allowing her to interpret his disagreement before directly going against her, “it could show him that he needs to act in accordance to certain standards if he wants to be part of it.” A hand to her arm stops her right before they reach the glass walls of the office, turning her to face his sympathetic, swirling eyes. “We cannot always protect him from himself, at some point we have to let him face the full consequences.”

It was easy to shrug off this statement three years ago, five years ago, and especially twelve, when they were still just rambunctious toddlers, yet the closer the reality of them becoming adults, of forging their own paths in the world gets, the greater the panic that rises in Wanda. She knows they’ll be fine, both are strong (and strong-headed), fiercely independent, compassionate boys, but they are still her boys and she isn’t sure she’ll ever let go of needing to protect them. Neither will Vision, based on his confessions in the middle of the night whenever the twins are out on a mission, or the way she has to talk him down from following along and watching them or from immediately correcting them on all of their social mishaps. “Let’s just see what it is this time, okay?”

“That is reasonable.” Vision leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, an understanding smile on his face when he pulls back. “Should I change?”

They’re both still in uniform, the after effects of the battle untouched. “No,” Wanda doesn’t have the luxury of phasing into new clothes and has no desire to be singled out even more by Vision changing, “they think we don’t work, so let them experience it,” she pats his shoulder, steering clear of the gunk still clinging to his chest, “nasty smell and all.”

“Shall we?”

Wanda leads the way, opening the door with a forced smile at Jody before turning towards the chair with a, “Tommy what did–” except the face she meets doesn’t have the cocky I-can-get-away-with-anything grin nor is his hair white or his feet and hands tapping with pent up energy. No, instead she is staring into terrified, ashamed doe-like eyes, “Billy?”

“Um,” he swallows, fingers lacing together in nervousness, mirroring the exact grasp Vision uses when faced with something overwhelming and incomprehensible. “Hi mom, dad.”

“Will-” her husband stutters out the name, which makes her feel better to not be alone in this shock, “William, what is wrong?”

A curt, invasive “Ahem,” comes from the woman barricaded behind the sleek lines of the oak and glass desk, “You know the rules.” Jody follows it up with a cheerily malevolent smile, “I’ll buzz Dr. Bennett to let her know you’re finally here.”

The wait is just over five minutes before the door opens, a promising sign given Vision has provided graphs tracking the data of these visits, analyzing it to confirm a significantly positive correlation between the severity of the offense and the time they have to wait before seeing the principal. Wanda turns towards Billy, who is still wilting in his chair, trying to keep her voice sympathetic but also firm, “We’ll be back.”

Vision places his hand on Wanda’s lower back as she enters the office in front of him, their bodies easing into the familiar and uncomfortable chairs where they will encounter unwarranted levels of scrutiny from the vaguely concerned face across from them. “Dr. Bennett.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff,” the woman scrunches her nose, hand rising delicately to her face in disgust, “What is that smell?”

Wanda holds in her snigger at the flare of humiliation from her husband’s mind, his body squirming slightly under the disgusted gaze of the Principal. “I am,” he coughs, eyes turning to Wanda for help but she just smiles, hand patting his arm. “My apologies, we were battling lifeforms today with a very different chemical composition, one that is quite unappealing to our own senses. I-” Dr. Bennett’s face only becomes more troubled the longer the explanation lasts, “could not get the residue off.”

“I see,” her attention turns away from the smell and to the papers on her desk, ones that are always splayed out just enough to require her to sift them back together with three precise taps to the desk. “I’m happy to let you know that William has already accepted his actions and the required afternoon of detention.”

This is not usually how their talks with her go. “Then why are we here?”

“Because, Mrs. Maximoff,” the now aligned stack of papers is laid gingerly on the desk where the woman steeples her fingers over them, “we believe it is vital to apprise parents of misbehavior in person and in a timely manner. From our experience, even the most well-intentioned students do not convey the full truth if we allow them to be the messenger.”

Vision tenses beside her, never comfortable with the roundabout, deeply layered insinuations people insist on issuing in meetings, far preferring straightforward approaches. “We understand, what precisely did he do?”

A single paper is moved from the stack on the desk as the reads off of it, “Truancy during the lunch period.”

This isn’t what Wanda expected, nor did Vision, if his confused side stare towards her is an indication. “Did he say why he left?”

“The teacher who reported it said she saw him get into a car with another young gentleman and then not return until the end of the lunch period.” Dr. Bennett’s face informs them that this offense is just as severe as the soccer goal Tommy vaporized the other month. “We have very strict rules concerning students remaining on the campus during the school day.”

“I see,” Wanda doesn’t doubt the actions, her own suspicions quite strong on the motivation, and she most certainly has no desire to remain in the office since Billy already agreed to the punishment. “Thank you for letting us know.” She stands, a movement instantly mimicked by Vision and the principal, “have a good day.”

A wave of her hand encourages Vision out of the office, a long, unwavering stare at Billy let’s him know to follow them, and then Wanda leads the two men to a small alcove. She turns to Billy, the crossing of her arms causing him to shrink in stature just a bit more. “So how’s Teddy?”

Vision’s surprise is palpable and adorably naive, particularly from a man who turned off his communicator to sneak away with Wanda. Billy’s surprise is feigned, nervous and instantly shifts into a weak defensiveness. “You know it’s ridiculous we aren’t allowed to leave at lunch. I was back on time.”

“There are rules though,” the thing about being a parent is that even when you agree with your child’s rationale, sometimes you have to recognize that your agreement is not as important as the lesson. “You could just wait until after school.”

Billy nods, eyes not quite meeting hers, “Yeah, but he had a flex day and-“

“Being in a relationship,” Vision’s intrusion quiets the explanation, his face set in an empathetic softness, “is very exciting, especially at the onset. But it is imperative to learn when it is appropriate to embrace that excitement and when you can delay the gratification until a better time.”

“I’m sorry, won’t happen again.” Vision smiles, proud of figuring out how to handle the situation, Billy far more receptive to his logic than Tommy. This however tends to blind him to the fact that Billy still has a lot of Wanda too, the grin inching up his face a trademark Maximoff I’m-about-to-sass-you-with-my-defiance look. “You do know there are entire blogs dedicated to all the times you and mom make out during missions, right?”

“I-“ if flustered Vision wasn’t so damn cute, Wanda would counter back, but watching him flounder in the face of resistance is quality entertainment. “I um, there are?”

Billy nods, torn between enthusiasm and disdain, “Cassie likes to send them to us.”

“I see.”

“Let’s just agree for now,” Wanda does her best to contain her amusement at watching the two of them, “that context matters and in this context the school has rules that should be followed so you can deal with their punishment and we’ll call it good.”

Billy sighs, resigned to the illogic of the moment, “Fine.” The lesson presumably learned (or at least accepted for now), Wanda laces her arm through Vision’s, about to say goodbye until Billy sniffs three times, “Dad, you smell worse than Tommy’s socks.”

Vision’s body sinks in her grasp, an exasperated, “I am aware” dispelling any last defiance or negative feelings from their talk.

[cookehenry90]

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