#as that towns car boot lost their car park spot after it was closed down for some new building stuff

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Tfw your town has finally got a car boot again every sunday and you managed to find someone selling various dolls for cheaper prices then Ebay would do.

[theharrowing]

Denim & Strawberry

When Yoongi gets invited to watch his crush perform, he has no idea what to expect. Jimin stripping on stage and singing a sultry little number while tugging on his hair is definitely not what Yoongi had in mind, but who is he to complain?

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show." Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

🍓 Yoongi x Jimin

🍓 word count: 19.6k 🙈

🍓 friends to lovers, burlesque au, porn without plot, tooth-rotting fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

🍓 warnings: top yoongi, bottom jimin. jimin has pink hair and yoongi has a half-up top-knot. this is more or less porn with very little plot. recreational drug use (weed smoking.) jimin performing burlesque and singing while being a flirt. light hair pulling. the burgundy suit from jimin's filter performance, and his kitty gang jacket, and cute lingerie. a hint of jealous/possessive behavior. bickering as a form of flirting. the tiniest hint of sub/dom vibes. safe word establishment. teasing & light humiliation. a little begging. use of good boy and slutty. jimin is shy at times but also a brat and yoongi fights the urge to tame him. a lot of drool, spit, lube, and cum. dirty talk. so much god damn praising. anal (plug, play, eating, fingering, sex.) messy blow job. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. yoongi loves to discuss boundaries & check in. lots of heaven/angel comparisons but only because yoongi is a sucker for how ethereal jimin is (it's not that deep.) too many positions (what was i thinking???) subspace. mating press. cock-warming. after care. tooth-rotting fluff.

🍓 note: a yoonmin fic + jimin doing burlesque was some brainrot shared between @echotoyou and i that i decided to write when their birthday was approaching. but then the big day came and went, and i lost control of this beast for a very long time. she is finally ready hehe. i hope you all (but especially mg!) enjoy!!! finally my years of being a photographer for a burlesque troupe and dating a performer have come in handy for my writing lolol.

🍓 listen along: 🎵 streets by doja cat & yeah, i said it by rhianna (thank you to @sailoryooons for these song choices!!!)

🍓 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🍓 posted august 2023 | read on ao3

Yoongi pats his pockets down one last time, fingertips tentatively grazing lumps beneath denim. Phone…wallet…keys. That's everything. He presses the lock button on his open car door, then closes it. In his pocket, his phone buzzes. 

Namjoon Hyung, are you close?

Yoongi Just parked.

Namjoon  Okay, good. Just making sure you don’t miss anything. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles. He has no idea what to expect – nobody has told him much – but Jimin did say, over and over again, that it was fine if he could not make it. That he would be thrilled if Yoongi could come but understood if he could not. That there would be other shows. 

But of course, Yoongi did everything in his power to make it. This is Jimin, after all.  

He slides his hands into the pockets of his black denim jacket and moseys from the small parking lot to the sidewalk and around the corner. There is a small congregation of people smoking and loitering outside, under a bright red neon sign that reads Paradise. Yoongi has never been to this bar before – tends to avoid spots on this side of town because it is more popular with college kids, and therefore, the drinks are overpriced. 

Everyone outside is done up in some flashy way, wearing sequins and fishnets, glittering eye makeup, and patent leather. Yoongi feels underdressed, wearing a black band tee tucked into black skinny jeans, with a black jacket and black work boots, and he awkwardly runs a hand through his dark, wavy, unstyled, and overgrown hair. 

"Yoongi!" a familiar voice shouts, and he looks up in time to find his friend Jeongguk waving him over, past the closest group of smokers. 

Even his friends are all dressed up, with sparkly eye glitter and tight, colorful clothing. Hoseok and Jeongguk are in mesh, Taehyung has a burgundy feather boa, and Seokjin and Namjoon are both wearing leather pants. Since when did the two of them own leather pants?

"Ya, you're dressed like a scrub!" Seokjin shouts, making Yoongi's cheeks warm in an instant.

"Nobody told you a single thing about the event tonight, did they?" Namjoon asks sympathetically.

Yoongi shrugs, mutters, "No," and digs his hands further into his pockets. 

Taehyung approaches, using his pinkies to brush the hair away from Yoongi's face, cradling a pot of light blue glitter between his fingers. "He probably wanted it to be a surprise," he mutters lowly, unscrewing the pot. "Don't let them make you feel self-conscious."

"I don't," Yoongi responds softly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He stands still while Taehyung dabs his fingertip into the glitter and allows him to smudge it around his eyes. In the early days of their friendship, Yoongi probably would have fussed, but these days, he lets the youngest two – Taehyung and Jeongguk – do whatever they want.

Jeongguk approaches, unscrewing a stick of pink, shiny lip gloss, and Yoongi huffs out a sigh but stands as still as he can while Jeongguk applies it. "Should put your hair into a bun or something," he mutters before he and Taehyung trade places so Taehyung can smudge blue glitter onto his other eye. 

"Your hair is really pretty, hyung," Taehyung adds, screwing the top of the glitter pot back on and sliding it into his very tight white slacks. "You should let me style it."

"Don't we have to go inside?" Yoongi asks.

"We'll head in when the emcee comes on," Hoseok responds, approaching with a mischievous smile. Without asking, he grabs Yoongi's right arm and pulls at the black hair tie that he always keeps on his wrist, then begins separating the top half of Yoongi's hair and making a bun on the top. "Jimin goes on third or fourth."

"What is he doing tonight, again?" Yoongi asks, throwing in the again to make it seem like he may have been privy to information in the past, in case it makes one of them divulge even a crumb of information. 

"A little singing," Hoseok mutters, grinning. "You know how it is."

"I literally do not know how it is," Yoongi responds, finally becoming impatient with his friends touching and fixing him. 

"You'll see, hyung," Hoseok says as he takes a step back, inspects his handy work, and nods.

Taehyung returns with a knit brow and reaches up to fix Yoongi's glittery makeup, which he allows for a moment before swatting him away, grumbling, "Okay, enough."

"Alright, grumpy cat," Namjoon teases, then passes him a freshly lit joint. "Here."

Yoongi reaches for the joint and takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs before tilting his head upward and releasing it. Then he holds out his hand for the next person to take it, and rolls his shoulders back. 

"What kind of song is Jimin singing?" Yoongi half-mutters, expecting next to nothing in response. 

Taehyung simply says, "You'll see, hyung,"  with a wink. 

“Is it an original song?” Yoongi tries. He can’t remember Jimin ever talking about songwriting, but he wouldn’t put it past him; Jimin is full of surprises. 

The sound of someone shouting into a microphone can be heard, and Yoongi stands at attention, ready to go inside. He can hear people cheering and loud pop music playing. 

“Shall we?” Taehyung asks as he takes one last drag at the diminishing joint and hands it to Yoongi. 

Yoongi nods and takes another hit, cradling the tiny roached joint between his thumb and forefinger, then holds it out for the others, all of whom hold their hands up and shake their heads. With one last puff, Yoongi flicks it into the street, then shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. 

“Is Jimin part of the opening act?” Yoongi asks, and Seokjin snickers. 

“He’s one of the main acts,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully. 

So he must be headlining, Yoongi assumes. 

“Hyung is so unobservant when he’s nervous,” Jeongguk teases, and Taehyung chuckles along with him. 

“I’m not nervous,” Yoongi grumbles.

He glances around and sees flyers for various events taped to the windows for drag and burlesque shows, and a few for various bands, none of which shows any images of Jimin, or any other performers he has ever seen before. In his pockets, his hands prickle with sweat, and he imagines what kind of instrument Jimin might play. Or maybe he only sings. 

Jimin is a somewhat new addition to their friend group, brought in by Taehyung and Hoseok; they all work together. To say Yoongi is smitten would be the understatement of the century. And although Yoongi thinks Jimin may also be interested in him, they have not spoken too much about anything outside of college and work, only seeing one another as part of the larger friend group.

As a major in theater arts with a minor in dance, Jimin works at a local studio teaching children tap and ballet as an assistant to Hoseok. Occasionally, Taehyung substitutes for the older lady who plays piano for the classes. It was natural for them to come together, all close in age, with Hoseok only a year older than the other two.

When Jimin invited Yoongi to come watch him perform, they were all tipsy from one too many bottles of soju. Jeongguk was the last in their friend group to graduate college, and they were all celebrating with drinks and fried chicken. 

Even then, when Yoongi asked what kind of show it was, everyone was giggly and secretive. From that moment, he got the feeling that Jimin was definitely flirting with him, with the way his gaze lingered, lips curled into a smile long after Yoongi made him laugh. The more Jimin insisted Yoongi needed to just go and experience the event first-hand, nibbling on his pillowy lip with a somewhat shy, rosy-cheeked grin, Yoongi felt eager to do anything he wanted him to. 

“Of course, I’ll be there,” Yoongi promised, and he meant it. 

The cheers inside grow louder, and Taehyung takes up the lead, stepping into the bar. Namjoon slings an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder and gently shoves him along with the group. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, but Taehyung mutters something to the door guy, who looks at a list of names and then waves the six of them inside. 

Taehyung leads them down a short hallway, into the bar. A long counter lines the left wall, with patrons leaning against it both to order drinks, and to chat with one another. Past the bar top, at the end of the venue, is a stage, and on stage is a woman lip-synching to some upbeat pop song while waving big white feather fans in front of her, enticing the audience to want to see what the fans are covering. 

Yoongi has seen clips of performances like this but has never attended this type of show before, and his gaze lingers on the woman, who winks and blows kisses to cheering audience members before Namjoon leads him over to get a drink. 

The music is loud and a little tackier than Yoongi’s usual taste, but the bass line thrums through the speakers straight into his bloodstream, building his nervousness to see Jimin, egged on by feeling somewhat high. He wonders what kind of performance Jimin might put on at an event like this, and he cannot imagine what it could be. 

“Hyung?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head toward the waiting tender. “First one is on me.”

What he would like is a nice scotch neat, but since Taehyung is paying, he finds a mid-tier whiskey and gets it with a spritz of soda water. The others order, and by the time they step away from the bar, the woman’s song is at its climax, and she is topless, wearing lacy red underwear and bouncing in a way that spins the red tassel pasties on her breasts in a circle. The action makes him chuckle, and when she bows and leaves the stage, he claps his fingers against the back of the hand holding his drink. 

“Burlesque, huh?” Yoongi asks, turning to Namjoon while a man in drag takes the stage. 

Namjoon waggles his eyebrows while taking a sip from the bright blue concoction in his hands. 

“Is Jimin also doing burlesque?” Yoongi asks, earning him a shrug. 

Yoongi decides to just stop asking. Clearly, his friends are determined to be completely useless. 

Although there is a decent crowd in the bar, most people are mingling about, watching the stage from a distance, or whispering amongst themselves. The emcee introduces another act and leaves the stage, replaced by a person with a very nicely manicured mustache and beard wearing a big orange wig and vintage blue dress. They prance around the stage, lip-synching to a silly pop song that Yoongi has never heard before, winning cheers and applause from the crowd.

Yoongi wonders if Jimin will also come out in drag, and what kind of a gimmick he might have. Would he wear a dress? High heels? A wig? Yoongi imagines Jimin with the bright, exaggerated makeup on and smiles to himself; he bets Jimin would look really pretty. 

Taehyung leads the group toward the stage, taking his place just left of the center. The others file in behind him, with Yoongi keeping some distance from the very front. The performer comes by, lip-synching to Taehyung, who pulls some money from his pocket and holds it up while the performer bends and offers their cleavage for him to slide the notes into. 

"I don't have any cash," Yoongi grumbles toward Taehyung when the song ends and the performer exits. "Will I need any for Jimin?"

"I got you," Taehyung responds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of notes, shoving them into Yoongi's empty hand before he has a chance to protest. 

Yoongi attempts to straighten out the notes while holding onto his drink. Meanwhile, the emcee returns to the stage. 

"Our next performer is a fan favorite," the emcee says with an exaggerated waggle of their eyebrows. Around them, the crowd becomes dense, with someone bumping shoulders and elbows into Yoongi as they get close to the stage. The emcee continues, "A man who needs no introduction because, let's be honest, you're all here to see him…Jimin."

The stage lights go out, and there is some movement – a person carrying items, as well as the light clacking of heels on the wooden stage. Yoongi's heart goes wild in his chest, and he lifts his drink to his lips, watching ahead for more movement in the dark, eager to not miss a thing when the lights come back on.

A red glow illuminates the back edge of the stage, showing the silhouette of Jimin sitting on what looks like a standard black folding chair. He is sideways on the chair with one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped over the back of the chair, and his head tilted back. He appears to be wearing a jacket and slacks, but it is hard to tell. 

Also on the stage is a tall, wooden coat rack, and hanging from it appears to be a short mesh robe with fur trim along the sleeves and bottom hem. 

Beside Yoongi, a man loudly whispers, "I fucking love Jimin; just wait," to someone else, and Yoongi shifts a little on his feet with anticipation and something like envy stirring in his guts. 

A yellow spotlight comes on, shining on Jimin. He wears a fitted burgundy suit and black leather boots with a heel and pointed toe. His light pink hair is styled off his forehead, and he appears to be wearing makeup around his eyes, but it is hard to clearly see. In his hand, which is draped over his knee, is a burgundy wide-brimmed hat. 

A familiar oldie comes on, a pop track from the 1950s, and Jimin slowly uncrosses his legs and places both feet on the floor. Female voices sing sweetly before Paul Anka's voice croons, "Put your head on my shoulder."

Only, before the sentence is finished, the song abruptly changes to a sexy R&B track with a trap beat. In that moment, the yellow spotlights turn red, the hat is dropped to the floor, and Jimin's hands are on the chair, supporting his weight as his body bows upward. Briefly, Yoongi thinks he recognizes the song from a bunch of tiktoks Hoseok has made him watch. 

The crowd cheers as Jimin rolls his body, then sits and rotates, facing the audience and spreading his legs. A woman's voice comes through, singing, "Like you…like you…like you…I find it hard to find someone like you," while Jimin rolls his shoulders and hips to the song, leaning forward and then back, holding onto this chair as he lifts his hips and lolls his head.

Yoongi is stunned, gripping onto his drink while he watches Jimin stand, spin the chair around and sit once more with his back to the audience and head tipped back while his hands rove over his body. His fingertips lift and fall to the rhythm of the song while they work their way down, down, down Jimin's body, difficult to clearly see and stirring up so many mental images. 

Jimin's shoulders and hips sway while his hands disappear, and then he pulls open the burgundy jacket. Everyone around him roars excitedly, cheering and applauding. Jimin holds onto the lapels and turns his head, teasing the audience with his opened jacket before he stands and lets the garment slip down past his shoulders, revealing a matching burgundy button-up that is tucked into his matching slacks and clings tightly to his arms and waist.

With a slow, deep swish of his hips, Jimin faces the audience and begins to rip the dress shirt open from the collar, sending buttons skittering across the stage, earning him whoops and shouts. With a strip of skin exposed, he walks over to the coat rack, turns it in a circle, and dips it as if he were dancing with a person, causing the mesh robe hanging from it to sway.

Each movement of Jimin's body is fluid, clothing clinging to his torso and thighs in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. He wears tighter clothing sometimes when they all hang out, but this is the first time Yoongi has really allowed himself to look.

For just a split second, while Jimin is holding the coat rack as if he is cradling the back and neck of a person and lip-synching to the song, it seems like he makes eye contact with Yoongi, causing Yoongi to hold his breath and heavy-blink through the well of excitement and shyness that he feels. It almost looks as if the edges of Jimin's lips lift ever so slightly, but then he releases the rack and spins away from it, swishing his hips as he dips down low and continues to rip open and untuck the button-up shirt with his eyelids fluttering closed. 

Yoongi practically forgets there is a song playing, focused so intently on Jimin, that when the singer begins to rap – quick and raspy – matched by Jimin's movements of tearing away the garment and revealing a bare torso with little light-colored heart pasties on his nipples, Yoongi sucks in a gasp that gets caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. Jimin’s bare chest and abdominals are chiseled – carved from the finest clay with careful hands. Yoongi lifts his drink quickly, taking a gulp of bitter whiskey and soda water while the crowd goes wild. 

In a swift movement, the pants are torn away from Jimin's waist, revealing long, muscular legs and shiny briefs that match the pasties. Jimin sinks into a squat, rubbing his hands over his legs. Then he sits and lifts one of his legs into a high split, giving Yoongi a very clear eyeful of a bulge and taut thigh muscle, making his mouth fall open. 

Jimin unzips the boot from the foot suspended in the air and tosses it aside, then drops his leg down and sweeps his other leg out in a half-squat, half-split while he drags his hands down the length of his leg to the other boot, unzips it, and tosses it near the other one. 

He spins, gets onto his knees, which are spread, and rolls his hips, lifting and dropping his ass while his hands rove up to his neck and hair, and his head lolls back. All he wears is shiny briefs and pasties, making Yoongi feel more intoxicated than the glass of whiskey ever could. 

The group to Yoongi's right is particularly loud, cheering for Jimin and shouting things like, "That's it, baby, show us how you ride it!" making a shiver run along Yoongi's spine. The objectification makes him feel uncomfortable, but he wonders whether Jimin cares, considering he clearly enjoys stripping for an audience; maybe that is all part of the thrill. Yoongi can't say he blames him. 

The song fades out as Jimin gets onto his hands and knees and crawls over to the coat rack, then slowly gets to his feet. As the music ends, the red lights fade to regular spotlights, revealing the briefs, pasties, and mesh robe – which Jimin pulls from the rack and begins to put on – are all a light pink color that matches his hair. 

Jimin ties the robe with a cord around his waist, standing barefoot while looking out at the crowd with a soft smile. The audience roars with applause and praise, and Yoongi expects Jimin's performance to be over, but then a stagehand in all black runs out, collects the discarded clothing while another sweeps a large broom across the floor to kick away loose buttons, and he hands Jimin a microphone that has been covered in light pink rhinestones. 

Once the men wearing black disappear behind tall curtains, a new song begins, also a slow R&B track, and Jimin lifts the microphone and starts singing, slowly swaying his hips and approaching the front of the stage. 

Yeah, yeah…yeah, yeah… I ain't tryna think about it, no

Taehyung takes a step back, wraps his arm around Yoongi's waist, and pulls him closer to the stage, causing Yoongi to fumble as Jimin approaches. He stands still as a statue with his hands in front of his chest – wad of notes that Taehyung gave him wedged between two fingers while both hands grip tight to his cold, condensation-covered glass of whiskey and soda water. 

Jimin's eyes find Yoongi, and he smiles, tilting his head sweetly to the side. To his right, the guys who had been cheering loudly try to close in and reach forward, but Jimin ignores them, looming over Yoongi while he sings in a soft, sweet voice, delivering lyrics that have Yoongi's cheeks absolutely burning. 

Yeah, I said it, boy, get up inside itI want you to homicide it

As Jimin lifts a hand and reaches out, Yoongi steps forward instinctively, knocking the toe of his boot into the front of the wooden stage, head tilted upward with his eyes never leaving Jimin's face. Around him, hands reach out with money, and some even toss notes to the stage, but Jimin ignores all of it. 

Go in slow, but I want you to pipe it And I think I kinda like ya Up against the wall, we don't need a title

But Jimin does take the wad of notes that stick out from between Yoongi's fingers, tugging them right out of his weak grasp, and he snakes his hand under the robe and tucks it into the side of his little pink briefs, making Yoongi breathe out a soft chuckle. 

Beside him, the guy who seems intent on getting Jimin's attention mutters, "Who the fuck is this guy?" just loud enough that Yoongi can hear him, and pride begins to burn behind his ribs. 

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it, man, fuck a title

Gently, Jimin reaches out toward Yoongi's head, eyes widening and brows slightly lifting as if asking for permission, and Yoongi nods while letting out a shaky breath. Fingers delicately push into his hair, tugging on strands as Jimin takes a handful and releases it, pulling away while dragging his fingertips against Yoongi's cheek. Even the gentlest touch feels electric, and Yoongi sways slightly forward when Jimin's hand drops away. 

Boy, I always like to show Get a little bit, come a little close, now

Arousal builds, and Yoongi feels a bit ashamed considering he and Jimin are friends, and Jimin is hardly touching him in a way that should warrant blood rushing to his dick. But Jimin looks like pure sin wrapped in inviting pink, and the way he stares at Yoongi is playful in a way he has never seen him look. 

Take it home on your camera phone Get a little bad, watch me blow it down

Jimin sinks to his knees, still taller than Yoongi but closer to eye level. With one hand, Jimin reaches for Yoongi's drink, then he has a sip of it and sets it down on the stage. Yoongi's hand stays in the same shape as if the glass had never been removed, and he is not sure what is sexier, the fact that Jimin takes the glass straight from his hand, or that he doesn't even flinch after essentially drinking carbonated whiskey.

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh

With a smirk, Jimin slinks to the very edge of the stage, knees practically bumping into Yoongi's hips. He slips his microphone into Yoongi's hand and lifts it until Yoongi has it in front of his face, as if he is supposed to sing the next line, and then he drapes his arms over Yoongi's shoulders, leans in, and continues. 

Yeah, I said it… Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh 

From this close, Yoongi can see a dusting of shimmery pink on Jimin's eyelids, which are lined in black. His lips are glossy, he smells like strawberries, and Yoongi feels stunned in place, questioning whether or not all of this is a dream. Could his friends have slipped something in the weed? Could he be hallucinating?

Jimin sings higher, each word more inviting than the last. 

You can be rough, boy, but you won't

One of Jimin's hands slides into Yoongi's hair, and starting from the nape of his neck, he takes a handful. Everyone in the bar fades away; as far as Yoongi is concerned, the only two people in the room are himself and the beauty before him. 

Yoongi wonders if this is how Jimin's performances typically go. Does he always pick someone from the audience to tease? Is he always this handsy?

Give me some love, boy, give it to me 'til the morn'

With a gentle tug at his hair, Yoongi practically whimpers, watching as Jimin's lips pull into a sweet, devious smile. Jimin holds onto Yoongi while swaying side to side, knees spreading wide as he dips low and closing as he sits a little higher. 

Jimin continues singing—

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it…

—but he seems less focused on sounding good for the audience and more interested in gently tugging Yoongi's hair and making him gradually fall apart. Soon, he is no longer singing at all, and he releases Yoongi's hair and drags his hand around his neck, past his throat and chin, then up and away, making Yoongi lean forward as if pulled by an invisible string. 

Yoongi wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Jimin seems to follow the movement before gently tugging his microphone out of Yoongi's tight, sweaty grasp and getting to his feet. Only then, does Yoongi realize the music is fading out. Jimin does a cute little twirl and opens his arms wide, bowing as the audience erupts into cheers, leaving Yoongi too stunned to clap. 

The emcee returns to the stage to announce an intermission, and the house lights come on, brightening the space. The crowd thins, and Yoongi heavy-blinks as he takes in his surroundings and allows his soul to return to his body while Jimin prances away, glancing over his shoulder to wink at Yoongi before slipping behind the black curtain. 

Two large, warm hands crash into Yoongi's shoulders, and he jumps, sucks in a gasp, and turns to find Namjoon staring at him with a wide smile. 

"So?" he has the audacity to ask, and all Yoongi can do is scoff and shake his head incredulously. 

"So, what?" Yoongi responds, attempting to play it cool despite the way his heart hammers in his chest. 

"Was it life-changing?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi turns to regard him before remembering his drink is still on the stage and spinning around to retrieve it. When he turns back to his friends, he finds five sets of eager eyes watching him, as well as the stares of strangers, and he ducks his head and gulps down half of his drink. 

"It was…" Yoongi begins, trailing off as he attempts to summarize what he just witnessed, blinking through mental image after mental image. "Unexpected," he finally says, lips involuntarily tugging to a smile, which he covers by slamming back the rest of his drink. 

"It sure was!" Hoseok says with wide eyes. "Jimin never comes to the edge of the stage like that. People always try to entice him, but he always plays hard to get."

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, letting the words sink in. 

"Another?" Jeongguk calls, holding an empty glass, and everyone nods. Hoseok and Taehyung finish their drinks in a gulp while they all turn and make their way to the end of the bar. 

As they stand and wait, Yoongi takes a look around the space. Everything is black and chrome and nothing too remarkable, but the place seems to have a chill vibe. And he is grateful to not be the only person wearing denim and a band tee – dressed like a scrub, as Seokjin so elegantly put it.

Taehyung and Jeongguk get drinks, then slink away from the bar to stand off to the side. Then Hoseok and Seokjin order, and finally, Namjoon. Yoongi steps up to the counter and decides to order the same thing he had before – whiskey and soda water. 

From beside him, a sweet, familiar voice shouts, "Make that two, please!"

The smell of strawberry perfume hits Yoongi's nose, and he turns to his left to find Jimin smiling widely at him. He wears a white tee tucked into tight, black leather pants, and a black leather bomber jacket with a feathery design embroidered in red and silver beads on the shoulders. 

Now that Jimin has touched him – tugged at his hair while looming over like a salacious little threat – Yoongi allows himself to stare a little without feeling the nervous urge to flit his gaze away. The longer he looks at Jimin, the wider Jimin's smile grows. 

"Hi, hyung," Jimin says, taking a step closer. 

"Hey, pretty," Yoongi responds, feeling self-conscious about his choice of words until he sees the way they make Jimin blush. Pretty, indeed. 

Two glasses thunk against the bar top, and Yoongi turns with a gasp, fishing for his wallet. 

"On the house," the bartender says, nodding at Jimin. 

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, "okay."

"I got the tip," Jimin says beside him, leaning into his personal space to hand a folded wad of notes to the bartender. Jimin adds, "Though, technically, you are paying for it, hyung," close to Yoongi's ear. 

"Taehyung is paying for it, actually," Yoongi responds with a smirk, turning to Jimin whose mouth falls agape, scandalized. Yoongi feels the need to defend himself, adding, "Hey, I didn't know what was going on, otherwise I would have come prepared!"

Yoongi picks up both drinks and hands one to Jimin, who responds, "Fair," through laughter as he grabs Yoongi by the bicep and pulls him away from the bar. 

Even through his denim sleeve, Yoongi feels a spark of electricity where Jimin touches him. He notices that Jimin has pulled him in the opposite direction of the rest of their friends and decides not to question it. When they find themselves against the wall in a somewhat dimly lit corner, Jimin's hand stays on Yoongi's arm, giving him a tentative squeeze, and Yoongi looks down at Jimin's hand and smiles before meeting his eye. 

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show."

Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

Yoongi has a sip of his drink, then he hums as he nods and says, "I did like the show. Your voice is really beautiful."

"Just my voice?" Jimin asks, stepping so close, their shoulders touch. 

A chuckle rocks through Yoongi, and he tips his head toward Jimin, who takes a drink with wide, curious eyes. "Not just your voice, no. Everything about you is beautiful."

"Awe, hyung!" Jimin shouts, shoving playfully at Yoongi's shoulder and sending him crashing lightly into the wall. 

"Wow," Yoongi responds, snickering. "Last time I compliment a guy."

Jimin places his hand over the spot he shoved and rubs over it, radiating warmth through denim and cotton. He opens his mouth to respond when a small group of men approaches to tell Jimin he did a great job, and Yoongi recognizes one of their voices as the guy who stood beside him during the performance. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow as the man makes eye contact with him, lifting his free hand to place over Jimin's hand, which continues to mindlessly rub over his chest, just below his clavicle. 

"Thanks for coming to the show," Jimin mutters politely, turning back to Yoongi. 

The group hovers behind Jimin and Yoongi does his best to ignore them, but it feels awkward to have an audience now that Jimin is no longer performing. 

"We should finish these drinks and get out of here," Yoongi suggests loud enough for the others to hear him, letting his gaze lift to the group to see if they have. 

Jimin chuckles. "Hyung, are you being possessive right now?"

"Maybe," Yoongi responds, tonguing the inside of his cheek. "But if you want to stay while that desperate pack ogles you, by all means—"

Jimin slides his hand from Yoongi's weak grasp to give him another smack, this time on the arm. 

"God, you're hot when you're jealous," Jimin says, making Yoongi blush, "but I should stay until the end to support the other performers. There are only four more."

Yoongi nods and accepts Jimin's terms. He wants to clarify that his offer for Jimin to leave with him afterwards is genuine, but the house lights dim, and music plays through the speakers, signaling the return of the show. 

Jimin takes Yoongi's hand and pulls him toward the front of the stage, to where the rest of their friends have congregated. Namjoon looks down at their linked hands, then to Yoongi, and he winks, making Yoongi roll his eyes despite how nice it feels to be holding Jimin's hand in public. 

The rest of the show goes by in a haze. Yoongi is hardly aware of the performers, hearing a hint of a song here and seeing a whoosh of brightly colored fabric there. All he can focus on is Jimin’s hand in his, Jimin’s voice singing and cheering, Jimin's warmth emitting in welcoming bursts beside him. 

Whenever Jimin slips his hand away to clap for each performer, Yoongi follows suit, robotically tapping his fingertips to his glass. And when Jimin takes his hand again, everything blurs and slows down, drowned out by the thrumming of blood in Yoongi’s veins, every sense acutely aware of only Jimin’s proximity – soft and strawberry-tender.

Once the house lights come on again, signaling the end of the show, Yoongi downs the rest of his drink. He feels sluggish and heavy, stumbling slightly when Jimin yanks him over to their friends. He wonders if they will want to keep drinking, whether they will want to go to a new bar. He thinks he would be alright with going to another bar; he parked his car somewhere it can be left overnight. 

“Wanna get out of here, hyung?” Jimin asks sweetly in his ear, and Yoongi decides all at once that another bar is out of the question. 

“Yes,” Yoongi responds, turning to Jimin with a wide smile that may very well look too eager for his own good. 

Jimin chuckles, finishes his drink, and says, “Good,” before leading the way to the bar where their friends are gathering with empty glasses. 

Yoongi considers how to break the news; Taehyung and Jeongguk tend to be pretty clingy and weaponize pouts that even Yoongi struggles to defend against, while Hoseok is always eager to keep their hangouts going well into the early morning. 

“We’re gonna get out of here!” Jimin announces, gracefully stealing the words from his mouth before he can even begin to formulate them. 

Jimin begins to hug everyone before they have a chance to oppose, smacking kisses against their cheeks and thanking them for coming to watch him perform. Most of them seem too dazed to argue.

Yoongi waves to everyone, noticing as they all make some sort of wink or eyebrow waggle at him, then he turns wordlessly and allows himself to get dragged by the wrist through the space, past patrons who attempt to talk to Jimin, and out into the cool night air. 

Jimin slides his arm into the crook of Yoongi’s elbow and pulls him along the sidewalk. “I live close,” he says before Yoongi has a chance to ask where they are going. Not that he would protest against being taken anywhere Jimin wanted. 

“Did you like the performance?” Jimin asks, bumping his hip against Yoongi as they walk. 

“I told you I did,” Yoongi teases, turning to find Jimin smiling while looking ahead. 

Jimin’s side profile is all firm lines and glitter, softened when he turns to Yoongi with wide, round eyes and pillow lips. He is stunning, and Yoongi is relieved to be able to stare unabashedly. 

“You told me I was beautiful,” Jimin clarifies, raising his eyebrows before looking ahead. 

“You are,” Yoongi mutters, remembering the performance. “And your singing was really beautiful. And the…stripping…” he trails off, feeling nervous about his choice of words. 

But Jimin does not miss a beat. “You liked watching me strip, hmm?”

“Of course I did,” Yoongi mutters, blushing. 

He is tugged around a corner to the right where the streetlights are fewer and the world feels darker, quieter. 

“And my dancing?” Jimin asks, walking impossibly closer – the two of them somehow managing to not trip over one another. 

“I liked your dancing,” Yoongi responds softly, clearing his throat to speak louder. “Hoseok mentioned you never come to the edge of the stage like that.”

Jimin chuckles, and Yoongi glances to the side, catching his eye before they both look ahead. 

“I don’t. That was just for you. I had a couple surprises just for you.”

Yoongi hums questionably, and Jimin says, "There's still one more surprise, in fact."

“Wow,” Yoongi rasps, smiling, “guess I’m pretty special.”

Jimin stops in his tracks and turns, pulling Yoongi gently away from the sidewalk, onto a grassy area near where tall bushes line the outside of an apartment building. It is even darker, and even quieter, without another soul around as far as Yoongi can tell, and he allows Jimin to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him close enough that their lips nearly touch. 

“You are special,” Jimin responds with a smile, fingertips playing with Yoongi’s hair. “And you look so cute with your hair half up and your eyes covered in Taehyung’s favorite blue glitter. How could I keep my hands off you?”

“Your admirers seemed pretty jealous,” Yoongi teases as he wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist, holding him close. 

“Let them be,” Jimin mutters softly, ghosting warm breath over Yoongi’s lips, which he wets with the tip of his tongue in anticipation. “The only admirer I care about is you.”

Yoongi smiles, letting his mouth fall open to respond – to tell Jimin he does admire him, so much, in fact, that it makes him dizzy. But Jimin slots their lips together tentatively, hands cradling Yoongi’s neck and back, and Yoongi sinks into the feeling with a sigh, then gently sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth as his pulse quickens. 

Jimin’s mouth is warm and soft beyond Yoongi’s wildest dreams. Yoongi rubs his hands over Jimin’s lower back and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss, licking over Jimin’s bottom lip until it falls open with a gasp, granting Yoongi entrance. 

With a slow graze of his tongue over Jimin’s, he feels Jimin tense and shiver in his hold, letting out a soft whine that has arousal crashing through Yoongi. Jimin whimpers, and all Yoongi can think about is the man on stage in his tight little briefs, and his trim, flexible body grinding and swaying so invitingly. 

Jimin breaks from the kiss, panting as he tips his mouth away but presses their foreheads together. Yoongi opens his eyes just enough to see Jimin smiling. 

“Let’s go inside,” Jimin mutters, sounding breathless, and he releases Yoongi from his hold and leads him up the short set of steps into the building they were just in front of. 

“Couldn’t wait two more minutes to get me inside?” Yoongi chides as Jimin tugs him by the wrist down a short hallway, to a door on the right. 

Jimin punches in the door code and steps inside the apartment, switching on a bright overhead light that makes the two of them squint. When Yoongi steps in and closes the door, Jimin has his hands on him, pressing him against the wall. 

“Are you always such a brat?” Jimin groans, crowding Yoongi’s space. 

Yoongi assists Jimin in being close by wrapping his arms around his waist. “I like to tease you,” he rasps, chuckling as Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“You were teasing me earlier,” Yoongi adds, sliding one hand up, over the scratchy embroidery of Jimin’s jacket until his hand is on the back of Jimin’s neck. “With your dancing…and your singing…and your hair-pulling.”

“I was being extra sexy once I saw you standing there,” Jimin says sweetly as he slots a leg between Yoongi’s thighs.

“Is that so?” Yoongi asks, tipping his head back against the wall so he can actually see the beauty before him. 

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip and nods his head. “I don’t usually grind on the floor as much. And the little splits I did to take off my shoes was improvised.”

“I might need to see those moves again,” Yoongi mutters, closing the gap between their lips with a soft, chaste kiss.

Jimin sighs and sinks into Yoongi, stomach and chest flush with his. “I have a lot of moves I can show you, hyung,” he responds as he sucks Yoongi’s lip into his mouth hard enough to make Yoongi whimper. 

“So show me,” Yoongi practically whines as he licks eagerly over Jimin’s lips. 

Jimin heaves a breath and takes a step back, grabbing Yoongi’s hands as they slowly slide from their grasp, walking backward through his tidy apartment, smiling as he mutters, “I’ll show you.”

Abruptly, Jimin stops and shouts, “Wait!” shoving Yoongi backward. Yoongi is confused and cocks his head, allowing himself to be moved, fingers still laced with Jimin’s. 

“We have to take our boots off, silly,” Jimin says, unlinking their hands and pressing Yoongi against the wall once more. He leans against Yoongi's chest as he lifts each foot to slide out of his black Chelsea boots and socks, stepping a bit shorter than before. 

Once Jimin’s feet are free, he prances away with a giggle, and Yoongi opens his mouth to call after him, but shakes his head and chuckles instead as he bends and unties his boots, toeing out of each one. The sound of a faucet running cues Yoongi to where to go, and he walks through the living room, to the right, and finds Jimin standing in a small kitchen, drinking from a glass of water. 

“Thirsty, hyung?” Jimin asks, holding out the glass. 

Yoongi takes it and has a drink, then sets it on the counter, and says, “I’m not too thirsty…but I am quite hungry,” watching as Jimin begins to look around with a frown. 

“I don’t have much,” he says, “what are you hungry for?”

Yoongi wraps his hands around Jimin’s waist, rubbing both palms over his leather-clad ass. 

“You,” he rasps, earning him a groan and a weak smack on the arm. He pouts and adds, “Pretty please?” while batting his eyelashes, and Jimin takes his hand, leading him away. 

“Are we leaving every light in your apartment on?” Yoongi asks while Jimin drags him into a short hallway. 

With a huff, Jimin turns on the hallway light, then reaches into a semi-open door right in front of them and turns the light on, revealing a bathroom. 

“There!” Jimin says with an incredulous glare. “Are you happy, hyung?”

“No,” Yoongi grumbles. “Feels like a waste of electricity.”

“You’re infuriating,” Jimin complains as he shuts off the bathroom and hallway lights. He playfully shoves Yoongi away to storm off to the kitchen and living room, and Yoongi laughs to himself, over the moon with how easy Jimin is to rile up. 

When Jimin returns, he grips onto the sleeve of Yoongi's jacket and yanks him roughly down to the end of the short hallway, into a dark room. Yoongi is still laughing, muttering, "Whoa, easy, tiger," as he is pressed into another wall, body against body, with warm breath wafting over his face. 

"You'll just have to fuck me in the dark since you're so god damn annoying," Jimin huffs as two hands slide up Yoongi's neck, into his hair and grip tightly.

Yoongi reaches into Jimin's jacket, pushing material away as he grabs him by the waist. Then he twists the two of them, grinning to himself when Jimin huffs out a surprised, "Oof," from the impact of his back being pressed into the wall. 

He leans forward, grazing his nose against Jimin's nose as he says, "So you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

"I thought that was a given," Jimin responds, voice less confident than before – trembling, even.

Yoongi hums and noses at Jimin some more, flicking his tongue out and pleased when it grazes over soft lips. "Didn't want to assume," he responds lowly, licking over Jimin's lips once more. "I'm down for anything you want, pretty."

It feels almost frantic the way Jimin's lips crash into his, mouth kissing and nipping while hands shove away Yoongi's denim jacket, sending it to the floor in a heavy lump of fabric. Jimin's hands yank at Yoongi's shirt, pulling it untucked from his jeans, and Yoongi reaches down, gently taking him by the wrists to stop him. 

"Wanna see you," Yoongi says. "I take back what I said about the lights; turn them all on so I don't miss anything."

Jimin chuckles and pulls his hands away, then a rustling of fabric is followed by the bright flashlight of Jimin's phone coming on. 

"Compromise?" he suggests with a smile that Yoongi barely sees behind the bright white glow. "There's a lamp beside my bed. Be a good boy and turn it on for me?"

Despite the somewhat indignant scoff that rolls through Yoongi's chest and throat, he turns on his heels to make his way through the dark bedroom, determined to be a good boy, indeed. He watches his step, maneuvering around discarded clothing items in the white glow before reaching the bed and finding the lamp. 

It takes a few moments of him rubbing his hand over the post and then down to where a cord sticks out, but he finds the little plastic switch and presses it on. A soft, golden light fills the space, and when he spins back around, Jimin is in the center of the room with his jacket draped down past his shoulders. 

Jimin begins to saunter over, and Yoongi's brain kicks into gear, going haywire over what he should do – join Jimin and undress him, or sit down and find out whether Jimin feels like putting on another show for him. He opts to sit, but when he turns to make sure the bed is close enough, his knees bump into it, knocking him off balance, and he more or less crashes onto his butt against the mattress. 

"So eager," Jimin teases as he rubs his hands over his neck, up into his light pink hair, and back down. 

"For you?" Yoongi responds, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward Jimin, feeling zero embarrassment over his floundering. "Absolutely."

"What are you so eager for?" Jimin asks with a grin that grows into something as beautiful as it is dangerous. 

"You," Yoongi responds without thinking. "All of you."

Jimin giggles. "Be more specific, hyung."

"I want to watch you strip again," Yoongi says, swallowing a lump of excitement that builds and builds in his throat, threatening to suffocate. "I want to worship you."

With another giggle, Jimin begins to thumb through his phone. The sound of a bluetooth speaker connecting somewhere to the right chimes through the room, and Yoongi turns to glance around, noticing a desk, a dresser, and an open closet door. Garments are strewn about – mostly shirts, it seems – and the dresser appears to be covered in various makeup items, beauty tools, and accessories. 

Over the speaker, a sexy R&B track begins to play, and Yoongi turns his attention back to Jimin, who tosses his phone over to the bed, to the right of Yoongi, and begins to sway his hips. Earlier, when Jimin was on stage, Yoongi was awestruck and struggled to fully comprehend what was happening. Especially with others around him cheering and shouting for Jimin, it took time for everything to settle over him.

But sitting in this dim room, just the two of them, knowing the type of body that Jimin has under all that leather and cotton, Yoongi's desire and anticipation reach new heights, and he leans back with his palms spread against Jimin's pink and orange floral comforter while butterflies kick up in his stomach. He almost feels the urge to pinch himself, worried once more that he might be dreaming.

Jimin lets the jacket fall to his wrists, then he lifts one hand slowly, dragging the material upward with his wrist until it slides free and falls. He lifts his other hand straight out and tilts his wrist until the material slides and crumples to the floor, and although it is just outerwear and Jimin is still fully clothed, the seductive movements have Yoongi sitting wide-eyed and mouth agape – entranced.

Yoongi barely registers the song that is playing, but he does not need to. Jimin's shoulders and hips amplify its tune, turning it into something tangible – something he could reach out and feel. Slowly, Jimin turns, and, with his fingertips dancing over the material of his t-shirt, he begins to untuck it little by little. 

White cotton drags over muscular shoulders with every movement, while black leather hugs his ass and thighs tightly. Then Jimin does a cute turn and sways down, bending his knees before swishing back up while lifting his shirt over his tummy and up, up, almost to his chest before spinning again and looking over his shoulder, pretending to be shy. 

Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, absolutely charmed by Jimin's little show, still toeing the line between playful and sexy as the shirt lifts over his head completely and Jimin tosses it over his shoulder, straight at Yoongi's face. Yoongi barely lifts his hands, allowing the fabric to gently clobber him in a wave of warm strawberry, and when it falls to his lap, he lazily takes it in one hand and holds onto it. 

"Still wearing those cute hearts?" Yoongi asks, and when Jimin mock-pouts and says, "Sorry, hyung, I took them off," he feels the tiniest tinge of sadness. 

"What a shame," Yoongi responds, wetting his lips as Jimin turns and saunters closer, hands rubbing over his nipples, keeping them covered. "They were cute."

"You're cute, hyung. But no touching unless I say you can," Jimin instructs softly but firmly, nibbling his bottom lip while slotting one leg between Yoongi's thighs and lifting his other knee to the bed. 

Yoongi tips his head back, leaning to give Jimin space as he rolls and grinds his hips, rubbing his hands up, over his neck, and into his hair, and then down, over his nipples and abdominals. Jimin is delicate hills and valleys of taut muscle and soft skin, and all Yoongi can do is stare at the beauty before him while swallowing the saliva that has pooled beneath his tongue, threatening to drool past his lips. 

"Like what you see, hyung?" Jimin asks, making Yoongi chuckle. 

Yoongi has to find his voice, softly clearing his throat. "You know I do."

With a deep, inviting hum, Jimin presses his thigh between Yoongi's legs, applying just enough pressure to make the air get trapped in his lungs. Arousal simmers through Yoongi, and he gasps, which becomes a soft chuckle when he notices the playful look on Jimin's face. 

"Evil," Yoongi groans when Jimin's leg grazes over him again, feeling blood rush straight to his dick. 

"What's the matter, hyung?" Jimin sing-songs as he takes a step back, spins around, and lowers his ass to Yoongi's lap. 

With both hands planted on Yoongi's knees, Jimin rolls his hips in circles and grinds them forward and back, and Yoongi squeezes the comforter in both palms as he groans from the pressure, fighting how badly he wants to touch. 

The song switches to something else sultry and unfamiliar, and Jimin reaches back with one arm that drapes over Yoongi's shoulder, resting his head on his other shoulder while his hips lift and fall in quick but soft movements that graze over Yoongi's crotch. 

"You're good at this," Yoongi mutters, dazed, hardly sounding like himself. 

Jimin hums in agreement and says, "I'm good at a lot of things."

A particularly firm press of Jimin's ass against Yoongi's constricted dick has his eyes fluttering closed, and he practically whines, "Show me everything."

Jimin sits up, taking away the arm around Yoongi's shoulder, then glances back with a mischievous smile, still moving his hips in inviting circles. Yoongi can hear the slow drag of a zipper, each tooth releasing as Jimin's arms make small movements in front of him. And then he lifts his hands to the waistband of his pants, hooks his thumbs under the black leather to slowly push the garment down.

The movement is agonizingly slow, only revealing an inch before he pulls back up and begins to drag down little by little, exposing pinkish-white satin briefs. Yoongi wants to grab onto the pockets and yank the material to the floor, losing all sense of sitting like a good boy. 

"You're killing me," he grumbles, fisting the blanket tight. 

With a giggle, Jimin stands, pushes the pants all the way to his thighs, and then sits again, grinding down on Yoongi's lap. The delicate curve of Jimin's waist into soft hips and a round, perfect ass has Yoongi reeling; the fact that he has Jimin all alone, and he is teasing him like this, is still a bit hard to comprehend. And, to make matters worse – or better – sticking out from under Jimin's satin panties are white lace garters connected to white mesh thigh-high stockings. 

Yoongi groans, eager to show his appreciation while feeling at a loss for words, earning a light giggle in response. 

"How badly do you want to touch me?" Jimin teases, glancing over his shoulder. 

Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth, raising his eyebrows while Jimin continues to watch him. "Oh, I'm going to fucking ruin you the second you give me permission to."

It is subtle the way Jimin's eyes widen and all mirth melts from his features – it only lasts a split second. But Yoongi clocks it, and he smirks, feeling victorious. 

Jimin turns and stands, bending himself in half while pushing his pants down to his ankles, and Yoongi watches as more drool pools under his tongue, gaze drifting down to where Jimin peeks from around his ankles to smile before slowly standing back up. He steps from the crumpled leather and then kicks the garment away before turning to Yoongi with his cock straining hard in those tight little briefs as he straddles his lap. 

"How was this performance, hyung?" Jimin asks, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's shoulders to play with his hair. 

At some point, the song had changed, but Yoongi barely registers the downtempo beat, staring at Jimin, who giggles and wiggles his hips back and forth in a quick, playful movement. He lifts his right hand and then drops it back to the blanket with a groan, rolling his head back and taking a quick moment to close his eyes. 

"It was more of a tease than the first one," Yoongi grumbles, tracing the soft lines of Jimin's neck and shoulders with his eyes before looking at his face. "But it was great, all the same; I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Jimin reaches down and palms over Yoongi's dick, which sits bunched up at an uncomfortable angle under restrictive denim, making him gasp from the pressure-ache that tears through him. 

"I can tell how thoroughly you enjoyed it, hyung."

At this, Yoongi chuckles, biting the inside of his mouth and biding his time for when it is his turn to be a menace.

"Did you notice my final surprise?" Jimin asks.

"The garters and stockings?" Yoongi asks, eyes drifting downward. 

"Not that," Jimin responds, and Yoongi cocks his head, unsure what he means.

"No…" he mutters. 

Jimin stares incredulously, heavy-blinking in disbelief. "What, really?" he practically shouts. "My ass was right in your face, how did you miss it?"

"I mean…your ass is…surprisingly perfect," Yoongi tries.

With a playful huff, Jimin rolls his eyes, grabs Yoongi's right hand, and wraps it around him, making Yoongi cup one of his cheeks. 

"You can touch only with this hand," Jimin says with an insistent gaze, "and only on my butt."

The material of these briefs is thin and smooth, gliding softly under Yoongi's palm. It takes Yoongi a moment of rubbing over the soft flesh, squeezing gently, and mapping its shape before his fingertips brush over something hard, making Jimin suck in a sudden gasp of air. 

"Oh?" Yoongi asks, grazing his fingertips against the spot with more purpose, making Jimin squirm. "What have we here?"

Jimin whimpers as Yoongi presses against the hard, round surprise before taking a handful to squeeze and spread, turning his sounds into soft moans. 

"Were you wearing this plug during the performance?" Yoongi asks, head tipped back to watch as Jimin's lips tremble and search for what to say.

"Yes," he finally sighs, lolling his head back with a moan when Yoongi passes his fingers firmly over it again. 

"You performed wearing an anal plug?" Yoongi asks again, watching as Jimin's cheeks flush and his eyes widen.

Jimin leans forward and presses his forehead against Yoongi's, nodding while whimpering a broken, "Uh-huh."

"While dancing and singing and tugging on my hair?" Yoongi continues, "While those eager boys stood and watched you flirt with me, you wore this, hoping I would bring you back here and find it."

"Yes, hyung," Jimin moans, and god if Yoongi had not already been fighting back the urge to absolutely destroy this pretty man in the most delicious ways possible, he would be now.

"You wanted me to find this plug, hmm?" Yoongi presses and rubs over it, squeezing and spanking while his other hand grips onto the blanket for dear life. "Wanted me to bend you over and pull it out…stretch you further on my cock…didn't you?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, hips rolling lazily into Yoongi's touch.

Without another word, Yoongi slides his hand away and anchors himself back against the bed. Jimin scrambles, sitting back with his eyes bulging wide, making Yoongi chuckle.

"So naughty," Yoongi teases, voice full of mirth and sparking a petulant fire in Jimin's eyes.

"Hyung!" Jimin shouts, lifting a hand to smack Yoongi on the chest, which Yoongi catches despite not being given instruction to touch, just yet. Jimin looks incensed and gasps, eyes going between Yoongi's hand and his face.

"It's my turn," Yoongi rasps, biting back a grin. "Let me touch you."

Jimin blinks at him, clearly still processing the teasing, and Yoongi raises his eyebrows, impatient. 

"Fine," Jimin huffs brattily, yanking his hand from Yoongi's grasp and sliding from Yoongi's lap to take his place beside him on the bed. "It's your turn to strip, hyung. Give me a good show."

Yoongi stands, walks a couple paces into the room, and turns, letting the movement flow with the beat of whatever song is playing – something a little quicker-paced but still sexy enough to dance to. He rubs his hands over his neck, down his pecs, and over his tummy, watching as Jimin rests back on his palms with his thighs slightly spread, intently following every movement. 

Then Yoongi grips onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it quickly over his head, messing up his hair in the process. He flings the garment at Jimin with maybe just a little too much force, and it hits him in the chest, falling to his lap.

"Wh—hyung!" Jimin shouts, tossing the shirt aside as Yoongi quickly undoes his belt and fly and shoves his jeans to the floor, stepping out of one side and then the other, and then reaching down to yank away his socks. 

"This is the worst strip tease I have ever seen!" Jimin shouts despite his eyes roving over Yoongi's body with a hunger that says otherwise. 

Yoongi approaches in two swift strides and bends to take Jimin by the backs of his knees. He lifts and spreads Jimin's legs, sending his back crashing against the bed, scrambling and squealing while Yoongi leans forward, legs draped over his hips, and grins. 

"What did I tell you I was going to do, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sternly, caging Jimin in with his hands against the bed while Jimin's frantic movements cause their clothed cocks to rub against one another in an addictive jolt of energy. 

"R-ruin me," Jimin pants as his flailing slows to a stop.

Yoongi grins. "That's right. I am going to absolutely ruin you. Now be good for me and get on your hands and knees."

It appears to take about two seconds for Jimin to process Yoongi's words before he crawls back on his elbows, getting fully onto the bed, and turning to position himself on his hands and knees while Yoongi sinks down to the floor. Jimin moves toward the center of the bed when Yoongi stops him.

"Ah, ah, come back here, pretty." He pats the mattress as if calling over a puppy. "Want you right here."

Jimin crawls backward with a somewhat dazed, borderline humiliated look on his face, and Yoongi waits patiently until Jimin is settled on the edge of the bed with his ankles hanging near Yoongi's head. 

"Perfect," Yoongi groans as he sits high, reaches for the waistline of Jimin's pretty satin briefs, and pulls, uncovering his prize in all its soft yet muscular glory. 

Yoongi practically moans at the sight of Jimin stretched around a metal toy with a light pink rhinestone in the center, and he wastes no time reaching two handfuls of soft flesh to squeeze firmly in his palms. He spreads his hands wide to graze his thumbs over the toy, then uses one hand to begin slowly tugging on it while keeping Jimin spread. 

"God, look at you," Yoongi groans as Jimin's pucker tenses and relaxes with each movement. "Is this what you wanted? When you invited me to come watch you perform, did you picture me bending you over and playing with your ass afterward?"

"Yes," Jimin whines, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine.

Yoongi uses his palm to gently strike Jimin's ass. The sound cracks through the room, punctuated by a moan, and Jimin shutters as he relaxes. 

"What did you imagine, exactly?" Yoongi asks, hearing a dazed, "What?" come from Jimin. 

"When you nestled this pretty little toy inside yourself tonight," Yoongi clarifies, rubbing over the reddened mark of his hand. "What were you imagining I would do to you?"

"I thought you would want to f-fuck me," Jimin says, sounding somewhat bashful. How cute. 

Yoongi rubs over Jimin's ass with both hands, then taps the tip of his index finger over the end of the toy, making Jimin tremble. "Is that all?"

"N-no," Jimin whimpers.

"Awe, is pretty Jimin too shy to dirty talk to his hyung now that he has me right where he wants me?"

All he hears in response is a low whine, and Yoongi chuckles, smacking and squeezing Jimin's ass just enough to make his legs quake. He wonders if Jimin likes becoming pliant and malleable in someone else's hands. 

"I can tell you what I imagine," Yoongi offers, sitting back before getting onto his feet to rub over Jimin's back and bend over him, draping himself to speak low into Jimin's ear. 

Jimin nods. 

"What I've imagined since the day we met—" Yoongi reaches with one hand to Jimin's chin and lifts his head up, then presses two fingers into his warm, wet mouth, "—is watching these sinful fucking lips wrap around my cock."

Jimin sucks on Yoongi's fingers, stirring a fire in his belly, and Yoongi nuzzles their cheeks together, pulling away as Jimin releases him with a pop. 

"And what I've imagined since that little performance of yours tonight—" Yoongi gently grips Jimin's chin and pulls him so that he is held in place, back arched and neck craned, looking him in the eye, "—is the sight of you riding me…using me to make yourself cum…squeezing me so nice and tight…all while tugging on my hair."

Jimin's eyes blow wide, and he gasps, staring at Yoongi as if he has just personally hung every star in the night sky. Reverent. 

"Would you like that, pretty?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin nods.

Yoongi grins. "Use your words, baby."

Brighter and wider, Jimin's eyes turn to heavenly disks, and Yoongi makes a mental note to call him baby a lot more. 

"Yes, hyung," Jimin mutters sweetly.

"Say my name. Tell me what you need."

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin responds. "I need…you. Anything you want, please."

With a soft kiss against Jimin's cheek, Yoongi lowers Jimin down, continuing to drape himself over his body, keeping his weight from pressing on him too much. 

"Do you like to be more in control," Yoongi asks, dancing fingertips in Jimin's pink hair, "or do you like to submit?"

Jimin's voice has a slight tremble when he says, "Submit."

"Do you like it rough or soft?"

"Both."

Yoongi groans, pleased with that answer. "Do you have a safe word, baby?"

"S-strawberry."

"Strawberry, of course," Yoongi says, grinning. "Good. I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."

Yoongi feels Jimin's body relax beneath him as he sighs, "Please, Yoongi," in a voice fit for an angel.

Eager to learn all the pretty ways Jimin can sing, Yoongi gets back onto his feet, running his fingertips over the length of Jimin's back before dropping to his knees. He spreads Jimin wide, leans forward, and licks from just beneath the end of the plug to just above it, tasting cold metal and zirconia with a sticky-sweet hint of lube. 

Jimin moans low and arches his back, pressing his ass against Yoongi's face, and Yoongi chuckles as he grips tightly to both cheeks and licks again and again, straight lines and rounded ones, tasting and teasing.

"Do you get really sensitive?" Yoongi asks as he rests his cheek against the soft curve of Jimin's ass and takes the end of the toy between his fingers, tugging it ever so slightly – just enough to make Jimin whine. 

Jimin mutters a pitchy, "Uh-huh."

"Words, baby," Yoongi instructs with a somewhat stronger tug. 

Jimin sobs as he says, "Yes, Yoongi!"

"Good," Yoongi groans as he nuzzles against Jimin and nips gently at his skin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun together."

With a firm tug, Yoongi begins to pull the toy, taking it nice and slow while Jimin's hole stretches around the bulb. Jimin sobs with shaking legs, and Yoongi lifts his head and drops a dab of spit as he pushes the toy back in and gives it another tug. 

Back and forth, he tugs and presses, with more spit and kisses against Jimin's soft skin, again and again, until finally Jimin opens wide and releases the plug with a soft wail. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, licking over Jimin's rim with a firm twist of his tongue, making him moan. "So good for me."

Yoongi stands on somewhat shaky legs – knees, and calves tired from being bunched up on the floor – and he moves to the bedside table, grabs a tissue from a small box, and places it down to rest the plug onto. "You got lube in here?" he asks, tapping his fingernails against the small door on the front of the table. 

"No, on top," Jimin responds, and Yoongi glances around, then finds the bottle wedged behind the tissue box. 

"Is this the lube you used earlier?" Yoongi asks as he returns and takes in the sight of Jimin on his knees with his face pressed against his floral comforter.

"Don't pick on me," Jimin pouts, frowning, making Yoongi chuckle fondly.

"Not picking on you, baby," Yoongi responds, patting the center of the bed, closer to the pillow. "Come up here."

With a whimper and even deeper pout, Jimin anchors himself on his hands, and – like a doe learning to walk for the first time – fumbles and sways with forward momentum until he slams his chest down onto a pillow and wraps his arms around it. 

Yoongi gets onto the bed and crawls on his knees behind Jimin. The satin briefs are still around Jimin's legs, keeping him from spreading his knees too far, and Yoongi leaves them in place, curious how Jimin might enjoy a little movement restriction.

With his thumb, Yoongi flips open the lid of the lube bottle, then he squirts a generous amount onto his index and middle fingers and rubs the pad of his thumb through the sticky substance to warm it just a little. Then he rubs the slicked tips of his fingers over Jimin's hole, watching the way he trembles from even the slightest of touches. 

Slowly, Yoongi presses the tip of his middle finger in, testing how far the toy has stretched him. Although Jimin moans, his voice is steady as Yoongi pushes all the way to his knuckle and twists. The muscle does not squeeze too tight, so he pulls out and gently slides in another.

With his index finger added, Jimin squeezes him with a deep whimper and then relaxes. Yoongi takes it slow, rubbing his palm soothingly over Jimin's ass and thigh, pulling his fingers back and pressing them forward little by little. 

"Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop, pretty," Yoongi says as he watches his fingertips get swallowed. 

"Don't stop," Jimin whimpers, "give me more."

"More?" Yoongi teases, drawing the word out nice and long. 

"Please, Yoongi."

Yoongi twists his fingers as he pushes and pulls, listening to Jimin's deep voice become high-pitched and raspy. Satisfied with how Jimin feels around him – swallowing eagerly but not with a death grip – Yoongi adds his ring finger. 

Jimin trembles and bleats broken syllables as Yoongi presses three fingers into him. He twists slowly and dribbles spit onto Jimin's rim, giving himself a little more slide, working himself a little deeper. And Jimin takes him so well until he gets to his knuckles and the stretch feels too tight.

"Fuck," Jimin gasps, legs quaking. "Feels s-so good, but it—'s too much."

"I got you, baby," Yoongi says softly, planting kisses over Jimin's ass and upper thigh as he slides his fingers out and pauses. "Call your safe word if you want a break."

"No," Jimin pants. "I don't want a break, your fingers are just…they're too good."

Yoongi chuckles, slowly pressing his fingers back in, stopping before the knuckles, as he says, "Just breathe for me," with his lips dragging over Jimin's soft skin. 

Labored, panicked breaths make Yoongi smile and shake his head, and he slowly pulls out as he clarifies, "Breathe slowly, Jiminah. Don't make yourself dizzy; I don't need you passing out on me."

An impatient groan muffled by a blanket makes Yoongi sit up high on his knees and angle his body to get a look at Jimin, whose face is squished cutely into the bed with flushed cheeks and a frown in his brow. 

"Ya, what is it?" Yoongi teases, using his lubed fingers to give Jimin's ass a little smack, smiling at how the man cries and quakes. 

"Wanna ride you," Jimin groans indignantly. 

Yoongi wants to rile Jimin up so badly. He considers tickling the man until he crashes to the bed laughing – and probably throwing a tantrum. He wants to threaten not to let Jimin do anything he wants, just so he can be pouty and bratty and make Yoongi put him in his place a little – gently and sweetly, of course. He has to hold his tongue to not chide the poor guy for how grumpy and impatient he is, even as Yoongi stretches him. 

But he does not. Instead, Yoongi rubs both hands over Jimin's ass, spreading and squeezing while settling back down again. "I thought you wanted to be submissive," he asks, with only a hint of mirth.

"I do," Jimin responds, pout still evident in his tone. "I want to do both. I can't make up my mind."

"You can do both," Yoongi insists with a smirk, reaching for the lube bottle to slick his fingers back up. "I would love it if you rode me, baby. But if you can't take three knuckles, you sure as hell can't take my cock. So why don't you be a good boy and breathe nice and slow while I stretch you open, yeah?"

The breathy way in which Jimin mutters, "Yeah," tells Yoongi his message has been received loud and clear. The prospect alone of Jimin riding him has him very eager to get the other nice and ready. 

Yoongi slathers his three fingers in lube and begins to press them in. Jimin still huffs his exhales, but he is breathing less like a man who might be dying, for which Yoongi is grateful. It takes plenty of twisting and coaxing to slowly get the muscles to open for him, but Yoongi is patient, kissing and sucking on Jimin's skin while watching his fingers get swallowed. 

When Yoongi finally does finger Jimin past the knuckle – accompanied by a pitchy squeal and Jimin begging, "Fuck, fuck, don't stop, please don't fucking stop," – he stops, letting Jimin adjust to the stretch. 

"That's it," Yoongi praises, rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and thigh while his fingers stay nestled deep inside him. "I knew you could take me. Just had to be a little patient."

"I've fantasized about how your knobby knuckles would feel but fuck, they are so big," Jimin whines, making Yoongi laugh. 

He squeezes Jimin's ass in his palm, then slowly begins to pull his fingers out, watching as Jimin opens wide to accommodate him once more. "You've fantasized about my fingers, huh?"

"H-hyung," Jimin groans, sounding embarrassed.

"Say my name, pretty," Yoongi sweetly commands as he twists his fingers out and begins to plunge them back in, meeting far less resistance. 

"Y-Yoongi," Jimin sobs, trembling as Yoongi twists – pulling out and pushing back in. 

The sight of his fingers getting swallowed whole has Yoongi's jaw hanging slack, drool pooling beneath his tongue. Jimin is an absolute vision, and the more his light-dusky pucker becomes flushed and reddened with pleasure, the hungrier Yoongi is to give and give and give. Anything to paint him prettily with bliss. Anything to hear the sweet, broken sounds he makes. 

"What is it, baby," Yoongi asks, twist-pulling and plunging deep. 

Jimin hiccups and Yoongi rotates his torso to lean just enough to see Jimin's fist grasping at the comforter. "N-need you."

"I'm here," Yoongi coos while rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and lower back, fingertips mapping and memorizing. "You're almost ready for me."

Yoongi pulls out, then uses the index fingers of both hands hooked into Jimin's rim to open him nice and wide. Jimin sobs as Yoongi stretches him, slowly plunging his fingers in and out in a push and pull, watching as the welcoming rings of muscle tense and relax. 

"Wh-what are you doing to me?" Jimin groans, as he sinks a little further forward, pushing his ass ever so slightly higher. 

"Admiring you, baby," Yoongi says, sitting high on his knees to dribble a dollop of spit into Jimin's hole to squelch between his two fingers. "You have no idea how fucking perfect you are."  

Jimin hiccups as he moans, and Yoongi slowly pulls out, one finger and then the other, watching as his pucker tightens and tightens.

"Alright, baby," Yoongi says as he sits back on his knees and open-palm kneads at Jimin's fleshy thighs, feeling supple skin, rough lace, and soft mesh against his palms. "Wanna be a good boy and show hyung how you ride cock?"

A pitchy, garbled, "Uh-huh," leaves Jimin's mouth in a rush as he pushes himself on shaking limbs until he is seated on his knees. Yoongi slides off the bed and walks toward the head, moving pillows and the comforter out of the way, revealing a pretty green floral sheet. He pushes his dark briefs down to the floor, stepping out of each side as he places his knees onto the bed, knee-walks the center, and then sits, spreading his thighs while Jimin grabs the bottle of lube and hobbles close. 

Without preamble, Jimin cages Yoongi's hips between his arms and licks a slow stripe up the underside of his aching, neglected cock, sending a thrill of pleasure shooting through him that has a moan storming from his lungs. Yoongi's head thumps against the headboard as he sinks against the cool, wooden surface, and he lifts his hands to gently take Jimin by the hair and chin. 

"Hyung tastes so good," Jimin coos sweetly, glancing up through his eyelashes while poking out his pretty pink tongue to lap at the dribble of precum at his tip. 

Yoongi was not planning on getting his dick sucked – he was dead set on Jimin's pleasure first and foremost, eager to give absolutely anything to him that he wants. But if what Jimin wants is to put those pretty lips to use, Yoongi would not dare say no. 

"Is that so?" Yoongi urges, eager to press Jimin to say more – hopeful that he will turn shy and sweet like before.

Jimin nods, blinking with a lust-drunk haze in his eyes before looking down into Yoongi's trimmed dark pubes as he says, "Salty-sweet…so yummy…"

"It's all yours, baby," Yoongi says as he drags his trimmed, blunt fingernails along the sharp lines of Jimin's jaw. "Anything you want, it's yours."

Jimin lets his tongue hang long, blinking upward while drool pools and dribbles onto Yoongi's tip, dripping down to disappear from view. "Want to make a mess," he slurs, barely pulling his tongue back enough to speak clearly. 

"Yeah?" Yoongi urges, "you wanna make a mess of me, baby?"

Jimin nods, curving his lips upward, saliva pooling and dripping. Yoongi fights the urge to beg him to do more – wants Jimin to go at his own pace and enjoy himself, even if it means Yoongi vibrates with nerves and anticipation, bordering on impatience and flat-out desperation. 

Luckily, Jimin does not make him wait long. With a deep, eager groan, Jimin sucks Yoongi's tip into his mouth without using his hands, then curves his back and neck, doing his best to swallow him down. Pleasure quakes through Yoongi, and he sinks further into the bed, dragging his head back against the headboard while he moans deep and appreciative. 

He tips his head to the side to watch Jimin's spit-slick petal lips drag along his length. Jimin hums and moans, which vibrates just enough to make Yoongi shiver, sucking his cheeks and swishing his tongue in a hypnotic dance. 

Slowly, Yoongi climbs to the precipice of bliss, further each time Jimin takes him a little deeper and swallows a little harder. Then Jimin changes position, sitting higher on his knees, and he takes Yoongi into his throat and swallows hard, sending a heavy wave of euphoria crashing inside him. Yoongi's fingers, which had been loosely holding onto Jimin's hair and face, grip onto Jimin's hair, and he tugs gently without pulling too hard. 

"Shit, baby, that's it," Yoongi whines, voice coming out pitchy and breathy. "Won't last if you keep swallowing me like that."

Jimin hums and swallows harder, holding Yoongi in his throat long enough to make Yoongi begin to spiral; long enough for Jimin to come up for air with a heavy gasp. Spit hangs from Jimin's lips and tongue in thick strings, and when he blinks, mascara leaves little black streaks on his face. 

"Pretty, messy baby," Yoongi praises with a smile that feels crooked and heavy. He knows he must look absolutely fucked out, and the way Jimin's eyes shimmer has affection blooming deep behind his ribs. 

Jimin grins, then sinks back down, sucking and swallowing eagerly while setting a quick pace bobbing his head. The faint pass of Jimin's teeth along Yoongi's length sends a tickle up his spine that has his back arching, and with each upward stroke of his lips, spit collects and trickles, coating his balls and dribbling over his asshole. 

Yoongi is close, and he grips Jimin's hair a little tighter, guiding his head a little deeper. He whimpers broken pleas for Jimin to keep going that hardly sound like words – whisps of sounds flitting into the air as he struggles to keep his bearings. Jimin's mouth is better than Yoongi could have possibly anticipated, and he submits fully to letting Jimin send him straight into the clouds. He wants to cum down that pretty throat so badly. 

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, finally finding his voice. "Gonna cum, baby. Will you swallow for me?"

Jimin seems to try to nod, muttering some kind of response that amounts to consonants and sputtered drool, and Yoongi loosens his grip on Jimin's hair, letting his hands slide and fall away to fist at the sheet, instead. It only takes three more passes of those perfect fucking lips to make Yoongi absolutely dissolve.

"Gonna c—" is all he chokes out before painting Jimin's tongue and throat. 

Jimin gags slightly but continues to suck and swallow, humming and moaning between Yoongi's sharp, raspy sounds of pleasure. His orgasm flows through him hot and quick, erupting and intoxicating. Only once he is trembling from overstimulation does Jimin release his cock, licking once more from base to tip with his mouth hanging agape. 

Streaks of viscous white streak Jimin's tongue, and Yoongi takes him by the jaw and gently lifts, urging Jimin to sit up and crash into him. Yoongi licks into Jimin's mouth, tasting his own heady release, and Jimin melts forward, laying his torso heavily against Yoongi while very slowly crawling up into a seated position on his lap. 

"Was that what you were imagining, hyung?" Jimin asks against his mouth, making Yoongi chuckle.

"Better," he rasps. "I could never have imagined anything feeling that good, Jiminah."

Jimin blushes as he asks, "Did you like how my lips looked?" and Yoongi raises an eyebrow, tilting his head back to get a better look at him. "Wrapped around you," Jimin continues, nibbling on his plush, kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

"You know I did." Yoongi leans in to place a soft kiss against Jimin's lips, deciding instead to suck them into his mouth, one after the other, making him giggle. "You looked and felt like heaven, baby."

Jimin leans back into Yoongi, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently tugging at his hair. They kiss, lick, suck, and nip in unhurried movements, tasting and teasing while Yoongi's dick recovers and begins to harden once more. Sticky-cool saliva transfers from Jimin's chin to Yoongi's, aiding in the mess that was promised, and Yoongi slowly sucks at Jimin's tongue tip, making him drool even more. 

Time grinds to a halt, suspended and of no use to them. Yoongi passes his hands over Jimin's shoulders, down the slopes of his back and hips and ass – anywhere he can reach. Occasionally, Jimin shivers and sighs, and Yoongi cannot help but smile, endeared and eager to know every single sensitive spot he may have. 

One of Jimin's hands leaves Yoongi's hair and travels down, tickling as his fingernails delicately scrape down his pec, across his ribs, to his hip. When Jimin wraps his hand around Yoongi's growing erection, engulfing him in pleasure and warmth, Yoongi gasps, rolling his eyes back and nodding as he mutters, "Almost ready for you."

Jimin releases Yoongi and reaches for the lube before using both hands to slick him up. Yoongi is grateful that Jimin does not warm it in his hands, hissing with delight at the cold touch. Jimin giggles deviously, chewing on his lip, and Yoongi gazes down at his cock between two slender, pretty hands before returning his attention to Jimin's face. 

"Now are you ready, hyung?" Jimin asks as he sits high on his knees and positions himself over Yoongi's tip. 

Yoongi uses both hands to steady Jimin's thighs, dancing his fingertips over the stockings, then gripping gently while Jimin reaches up to the top of the headboard and leans his chest close to Yoongi's face. 

"I don't think I could ever fully be ready for someone as perfect as you fucking me, Jiminah," Yoongi confesses with a smile, tilting his head until his tongue is able to flit out and drag over a dusky, pert nipple. "You'll just have to give it to me; force me to be ready. Don't hold back."

"As you wish, hyung," Jimin responds sweetly as he begins to sink down. 

The tip of Yoongi's cock breaches Jimin's hole with a shutter and whimper from both men in tandem. Yoongi grips Jimin's hips bruisingly, expecting Jimin to stop and adjust, but Jimin keeps lowering, down, down, down until he is fully seated and choking pretty, broken sobs. 

Yoongi is overwhelmed with pleasure, squeezed with blissful tight warmth, and he quakes with each gentle squeeze of muscle around him. His breath feels heavy in his lungs, and as he lets out a groaned exhale, he releases his grip on Jimin's thighs and rests his head back in a desperate attempt to get his bearings, teetering on the brink of total mental collapse.

"Hol—" is all Yoongi manages to moan as Jimin lifts and drops, slamming his ass against Yoongi's thighs, letting out a dulcet whimper that is rivaled by Jimin's pitchier one. 

"Big," Jimin mutters as he picks up a dizzying pace of slowly lifting before forcefully dropping, spearing himself so nice and deep, Yoongi feels like he may be carving the poor guy open. 

Jimin is magnificent with his head tilted back and lips hung wide, whimpering as he rises and drops and rises and drops. Somehow exactly as Yoongi imagined, yet so much more. His cock glistens hard against his tummy, dribbling with precum and so neglected, bouncing against his abs with each drop, leaving a little splatter behind.

"I won't last," Yoongi admits, feeling the blissful, agonizing squeeze that is only intensified as Jimin's muscles flutter with pleasure. "I usually have more—ahh—s-stamina, but you feel so g-good."

"Awe, hyungie," Jimin purrs, tilting his head forward and opening his dreamy, lust-lidded eyes. "That's ok. I just hope you can keep going…ruin me like you promised."

"I can," Yoongi croaks. It will be much easier to stave off his orgasm when he is in full control; like this, he doesn't stand a chance. 

"There's always tomorrow, too," Jimin mutters half-dazed, and Yoongi smirks at the prospect of Jimin wanting him after tonight. 

Yoongi rubs his hands up Jimin's hips, along the delicate curve of his waist and the white lace garter, and further, palming over pecs. As Jimin lifts and drops, Yoongi almost feels overwhelmed by the arousal that pools and pools, warm and aching in his center, tingling to his limbs, filling him with desire. He wants to grab Jimin tight and fuck up into him, but Jimin feels and looks so amazing he lets him take his time. 

With a grin that morphs into a bite of his lower lip, Jimin lifts his hips and swivels them, whorling around Yoongi's tip and tugging up, making him gasp and groan. Yoongi rubs his hands down to Jimin's waist and gently holds, helping keep him steady while the dancer twists and swishes, creating dizzying patterns to the song Yoongi barely hears over the pounding of his heart. 

"God, your body…" Yoongi mutters, eyes heavy as he watches muscle tense and soften. 

"You like how I feel, hyung?" Jimin mutters as he swirls up. 

Before Yoongi can respond, Jimin begins to bounce his ass up and down to the beat of the background song, just fucking himself on Yoongi's tip – teasing in a most delightful way. 

"How you feel…" Yoongi mutters, head rolling back against the headboard, looking down his nose at the beauty above him. "How you look, how you sound…you're fucking perfect, baby."

Jimin smiles and runs his hands over Yoongi's neck, then uses one hand to leverage himself on Yoongi's shoulder while the other takes a handful of hair and grips tight. 

"You're just saying that because I'm fucking you," Jimin teases through gasps and whimpers, gaze turning sharp while he begins to drop his hips back down and spear himself deep.

Even with a cock buried inside him, Jimin is a brat. Yoongi finds it way too endearing, though he is eager to flip the pretty dancer over and fuck him so good he can no longer talk back. He rolls his eyes, moaning as Jimin rides him a little steadier, trying to ignore how rapidly his pleasure builds.

"True," Yoongi mutters, playing along. If Jimin wants to be petulant, two can play this game.

"Ah—" Jimin moans, "I knew it. Just using me for my perfect ass."

Yoongi's hands slide over the soft, inviting curves of Jimin's hips and ass, and he takes two splayed handfuls and gives him a squeeze, moaning, "Exactly."

With his palms gripping tight, Yoongi assists Jimin in his movements, lifting and dropping him in a nice steady rhythm. Rather than attempt to stave his high, he chases it now, eager to change positions and give Jimin more. 

Jimin whimpers and sobs, breath coming out punchy and ragged while his tip leaks precum. 

"Are you close, baby?" Yoongi asks, receiving only a whimpered, "Uh-huh," in response. 

"What did I say about using your words?" Yoongi insists through grit teeth, finding it harder to steady his breathing and speak clearly. 

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin moans, sending a chill down Yoongi's spine at the sound of his name. "I'm so close."

Yoongi pulls one hand away, lifts it to his mouth, and spits into his palm. He stares up at Jimin as he wraps his hand around Jimin's cock head and squeezes just enough to elicit a moan and shiver from him, then he begins to stroke nice and slow, collecting dribbled precum on his palm.

"Hyung," Jimin whimpers, body tensing and relaxing over and over. 

"Say my name, baby," Yoongi instructs with a smirk, watching Jimin's lips tremble and form unvoiced syllables. 

Jimin leans forward and takes two handfuls of Yoongi's hair as he lifts and slams his ass with purpose. Each breath Yoongi pants hits Jimin's chest, creating a pocket of sticky warmth between them. 

"Yoongi," Jimin whines as his grip tightens, tugging on Yoongi's scalp and making him hiss. 

"Yes, baby?"

Jimin's voice cracks, barely croaking out the words, "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, Jiminah," Yoongi moans, feeling his own high reach its peak. "Cum all over this cock, baby, let me feel you."

Jimin's muscles squeeze and release– frenzied and dizzying as his rhythm falters. Rather than lift, he grinds, burying Yoongi so deep, the air feels trapped in Yoongi's chest. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi wheezes through grit teeth, stroking Jimin at an angle that has him gently punching his fist against both their tummies. "Use my cock to get yourself off. Fuck, you feel so good."

Jimin's back arches and his body quakes as he cums. Yoongi squeezes at his tip, urging more and more release to coat his fist sticky-white, digging his heels into the mattress as he fucks his hips upward, just enough to get Jimin bouncing and moaning. Jimin squeezes him so tight, pushing him right over the edge. 

"Gonna cum, baby," Yoongi groans as every nerve prickles tingly and hot, ready to burst. 

"Fill me, Yoongi," Jimin sobs as he bounces in quick, shallow movements. "Make me messy."

The squeeze of Jimin's muscles, and fucked out, eager sound of his voice has Yoongi's orgasm hitting hard. He releases Jimin's cock, gripping onto his thighs with both hands as his body trembles roughly with pleasure. Yoongi barely makes a sound, rasping around heaving breaths as his eyes squeeze momentarily tight, attempting to relax as his orgasm pulses through him in tremendous bursts, making him see stars. 

"That's it, hyung," Jimin whimpers, leaning all the way forward, draping himself over Yoongi's shoulders. "Feels so good."

Yoongi sits back, catching his breath as his cock softens, running his clean palm up Jimin's back while the cum-covered hand falls to the side. Jimin's muscles continue to flutter, and he nuzzles his face against Yoongi's neck, leaving lazy, wet kisses against the skin and filling Yoongi with butterflies. 

The music continues to play, changing from one sexy beat to another. A female artist sings, but Yoongi is unable to make out what she is saying. His pulse thumps in his ears and throat, forcing each breath out in a lively beat of his own. 

"It feels nice to just…sit here and hold you," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's skin. 

"I would hug you back but one of my hands is covered in your cum."

Jimin hums in understanding, adding, "You got it on my thigh," with a familiar bratty tone. 

"You wanted to be messy," Yoongi grumbles with a smile, feeling absolutely smitten. 

Jimin groans, "I did," as he slowly begins to sit up, taking the warmth of his body away. 

Yoongi shivers as the sweat that covers him turns cold. He tips his head back and looks up as Jimin settles on his lap, cock-warming him while sitting tall, smiling sweetly. 

"I guess since you got what you wanted, you don't need me anymore," Jimin teases with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow as he reaches out and undoes what is left of the bun in Yoongi's hair, tossing his trusty hair tie aside. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and lolls his head back, trying not to smile as he mutters, "Really, Jiminah?"

With wide, playful eyes, Jimin nods, sliding his ass up, up, up until Yoongi's soft, cum-covered cock falls away, making him shudder. 

"You had a taste of my perfect ass, so—"

"Oh, I had a taste, alright," Yoongi interrupts with a grin, sitting up and causing Jimin to move slightly backward. "You think I'm gonna just leave now? Never to see you again?"

Jimin's playful demeanor begins to crumble as Yoongi lifts his soiled hand and begins to lick at what is left of Jimin's heady, salty-sweet release. 

"Uh, I—" Jimin says, lips forming around syllables he never voices. 

"What about promising me tomorrow? Hmm?" Yoongi asks before dragging his tongue over his knuckles, cleaning the remnants of Jimin's cum.

Now that his hand is far less messy, Yoongi grips onto Jimin's waist nice and tight and lift-pushes the dancer onto his back. Jimin yelps as he hits the pretty green sheet, pink hair sweat-stuck together in little spikes, fanning messily around his beautiful face. 

"I'm not finished with you yet," Yoongi says as he gets onto his knees and towers over Jimin. "Weren't you just whining about me ruining you moments ago?"

Jimin giggles softly, reaching his arms to wrap around Yoongi's neck. Yoongi gently takes Jimin by the wrists and pushes his arms to the mattress, pressing his weight down, watching with delight as Jimin gasps and shivers beneath him. 

"You really think I could only do this once?" Yoongi teases as he leans forward, crowding Jimin's space. "Now that I've had a taste of you, I'll be craving you, Jiminah."

"I-is that so?" Jimin breathes, head tilting as if offering the expanse of his neck to Yoongi – an invitation Yoongi takes as he drags his lips over salt-slick skin. 

"That is so."

"Are you sure you can keep going?" Jimin asks sweetly. "You just came twice."

"I could fuck you all night, baby," Yoongi insists, licking and nipping until Jimin gasps. "Just need a moment to get hard again. Why? Can you keep going?"

Each breath that puffs from Jimin's lips sounds heavy. "I can, but…I might get overstimulated."

"I know," Yoongi groans with a smile. "I watched you fall apart on my fingers, remember?"

"I might get…really…lost," Jimin admits.

Yoongi releases Jimin's hands and moves them to the mattress so he can press more weight down and angle himself upward just enough to look Jimin in the eyes. 

"Like, subspace?" Yoongi asks, watching Jimin's eyes widen. 

"Maybe," Jimin mutters. "I just get really…floaty. Like my soul and body are disconnected…held together by pleasure."

Yoongi nods in understanding. "Do you want to hold off, then? Wait until we're more comfortable with each other before you go there with me?"

The smile that tugs on Jimin's lips is sweet, and his eyes sparkle as he says, "I have a feeling you will take good care of me, hyung."

Affection bursts warm in Yoongi's chest. "Of course, I will. But I still understand if that's something you want to build up to."

Jimin shakes his head and nibbles on his lip. "I trust you. I'll call my safe word if I need to."

"You don't go non-verbal at all?"

Jimin pinches his brow and shakes his head. "No."

"Alright," Yoongi agrees, eager to keep going as long as Jimin feels safe. 

Jimin leans forward, groaning as his chin juts out, puckering for a kiss, making Yoongi chuckle softly. Yoongi closes the gap and presses further, allowing Jimin to lie comfortably, and he licks and sucks at Jimin's soft, sinful mouth. 

"Sorry for ruining the mood with talking," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's lips.

Yoongi hums as he licks into Jimin's warm, petal mouth, opening him wide; making space. Jimin tastes so delicately sweet yet heady, and Yoongi has no choice but to chase every nuanced flavor, eager to discover more. Jimin's hums and groans are music to Yoongi's ears, and he swallows each sound with ease. 

Rather than lifting his head, Yoongi simply stops kissing, letting his lips rest on Jimin, who smiles. Yoongi wishes he could adequately communicate just how important every little thing Jimin thinks, feels, and needs is, to him. 

"Discussing boundaries is never a mood killer," Yoongi insists against his lips. "I never want you to hold anything back."

"Thank you, hyung," Jimin mutters, leaving pecks of soft kisses along Yoongi's mouth and chin.

"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum, Jiminah. You deserve to be cared for."

The way Jimin squeals and wiggles beneath him makes his smile go lopsided. Yoongi lifts his head just enough to watch Jimin's cheeks flush, taking in the beauty of his shimmery and black makeup smudged around his eyes. 

"Shut up," Jimin groans.

"Shut me up," Yoongi challenges with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Jimin tilts his chin up once more, chasing a kiss. As Yoongi leans down, giving into his desire, one warm hand wraps around his half-hard cock, making him shiver and groan; this certainly is one way to get him to stop talking. 

"Want you again, Yoongi," Jimin pleads into Yoongi's open mouth, tugging on his cock. "Need you."

"You have me, baby," Yoongi practically moans, licking against Jimin's lips as his arousal simmers and warms him. "Turn over, on your stomach."

Jimin nods as he deepens the kiss, licking eagerly into Yoongi's mouth, sighing as Yoongi pushes and pulls with his tongue. When Jimin breaks the kiss, fingertips dig into Yoongi's neck and shoulder, and both men are panting, thickening the air between them with moist warmth. 

Jimin begins to wiggle around onto his side, then his stomach, and Yoongi stays where he is, caging him in with his arms and lifting his knees one after the other to accommodate Jimin's legs. Once Jimin is settled, Yoongi leans forward and presses his lips to the back of Jimin's neck, nipping and swirling his tongue as Jimin moans, back bowing delicately – trembling.

Yoongi kisses down the curve of Jimin's spine, crawling backward onto his knees. He sucks marks at the top of Jimin's ass, nipping and licking over dewy-smooth skin and lifting his hands to cup and squeeze. As he sits up, he kneads gently into Jimin's perfect, pillowy flesh, spreading him wide. Jimin's puffy rim glistens with leaked cum, and Yoongi wets his lips as he runs two fingertips over the mess before pressing deep inside. 

Jimin moans loudly, broken and debauched, as Yoongi fingers his tight asshole, feeling his own cum squelch, icky and enticing. He looks around for the bottle of lube and leans back, allowing his fingers to be slowly released as he reaches for it with his free hand. 

"You sure you can keep going?" Yoongi asks as he flicks the lube bottle open with his thumb, caressing the soft swell of Jimin's ass and thigh. 

"I'm not fragile, hyung," Jimin whimpers with his hands beside his head, clutching onto the comforter that has been bunched up and pushed out of the way. 

"Never said you were," Yoongi smiles fondly, squirting lube into his palm and working it over his cock, hissing from the sensation on his tender skin. "Just don't want to push you too far."

Jimin groans a pitchy sound that Yoongi assumes is impatience. "We already discussed this. My safe word is strawberry, hyung. Please fuck me."

Yoongi rubs his lubed hand sloppily over Jimin's hole, nibbling his lip as Jimin bucks and trembles against him. "Say that last part again."

There is a second of hesitation, followed by a soft sigh that makes Yoongi grin. He opens his mouth to ask again nicely, but Jimin beats him to it, muttering, "Please fuck me, Yoongi."

Jimin spreads his thighs flat against the bed and extends his legs straight, laying in a perfect split, and Yoongi gasps at the sight of him. He leans forward to accommodate the new height, gripping onto his length with one hand and Jimin's hip with the other. With a devious giggle, Jimin begins to bounce his ass, clapping his cheeks softly in a show that has Yoongi absolutely reeling. 

Without a moment more to spare, Yoongi leans forward on his knees and lines himself up with Jimin's rim, using his non-sticky hand to guide one of Jimin's hips. "You're a fucking menace," he groans as he presses in, in, in, spearing Jimin open as they whine and moan in tandem, feeling pleasure burst through his limbs like rays of warm, alluring light. 

"Squeezing me, baby," Yoongi rasps as he slowly slides out, giving Jimin no time to adjust. He places both hands on Jimin's hips and begins to rock his body, fucking into Jimin without moving his own hips. The delicate, elongated stretch of Jimin's mesh clad legs, right down to the tips of his pretty little toes has Yoongi torn between wanting to cherish him like something delicate or completely wreck him. 

"Such a slutty little dancer and you're all mine," Yoongi teases as he continues to rock Jimin's hips against him, watching his puffy rim swallow him whole. "What would your admirers think if they knew you wore a plug on stage while you were doing the splits to tease me?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, burying his face down into the comforter. 

Yoongi slides his hands to the bed and leans forward, slowly thrusting his hips up and down while walking his hands up to Jimin's armpits, hovering nice and close. The scent of strawberry mixed with a faint, sweaty musk is sticky-sweet enticing, and Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep breath in. 

"You even performed for all of our friends wearing a toy," Yoongi rasps beside Jimin's ear. "What would they think of you?"

"Stop," Jimin whines, dragging the word long and whiny. 

Yoongi nuzzles his face against Jimin's nape, nipping at short pink hairs. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you, baby," he mutters sweetly, smiling at the sound of Jimin cooing happily. 

"Mmm, I like it," Jimin admits with a groan, making Yoongi nuzzle harder, grinning at the thought of Jimin feeling shy.

The smacking of skin is heard in lewd, rhythmic bursts. Yoongi fucks Jimin nice and steady, listening for the strained "Ah!" that punctuates each thrust, huffing small sounds of his own. 

Yoongi begins to sit back, careful not to let his hips lose too much rhythm. Once on his knees, Yoongi spreads Jimin wide with both hands and leans his weight into him, fucking him much faster. Jimin jiggles hypnotically, and Yoongi gives him light spanks to each cheek, unable to resist playing with him; delighted by the sound of him squealing. 

"Hyung, I want to cum again," Jimin cries, gripping the floral blanket tight. 

Yoongi wants to watch him cum – wants to touch and tease his cock while praising him and making him sob. As he slowly pulls out, Jimin trembles and groans in protest. Yoongi gives his ass a couple of light taps and mutters, "On your back." 

"Hyung" Jimin complains, elongating the word, making Yoongi smirk. 

Jimin crawls slightly forward and bends at the knees, then flops onto his side, huffing dramatically as if he cannot be bothered to move a single inch more. 

"I know, I know," Yoongi mutters, grabbing Jimin by the hips and pulling him the rest of the way onto his back. Jimin squeals and laughs, spreading his legs wide while watching with eager, mascara-smudged eyes as Yoongi continues to position him right where he wants him. 

"Sorry I can't choose between wanting to see your ass and wanting to see your face," Yoongi grumbles defensively while pumping his cock and reaching for the bottle of lube. He squirts some directly onto his shaft – cool liquid on warm skin – and he smears it in one stroke.

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead," Jimin teases, lifting his eyebrows playfully with a grin. 

Yoongi slides his length into Jimin's tight warmth in one swift movement, and Jimin's grin falls agape as his back arches. He lets out a deep, pleased moan that Yoongi mirrors with a slow intake of air, filling his lungs. The curve of Jimin's neck, along his chest, and down to his tummy bows delicately taut, and Yoongi maps each inch with his eyes, stunned by his beauty. 

When Jimin settles slowly onto his back, Yoongi reaches forward and slots two fingers into Jimin's mouth. Jimin clamps his lips closed and gently sucks as Yoongi begins to set a steady pace with his hips. 

"Good boy," he praises, and Jimin's eyes blow wide. "So fucking good for me. So pretty and tight and perfect."

Jimin anchors himself onto his elbows, muttering something that sounds like a question, and Yoongi nods, smiling sweetly down at Jimin, watching his hard, leaking cock slap his tummy with each thrust. 

"Perfect, pretty Jiminah. And you're all mine."

More sounds are uttered around Yoongi's fingers as Jimin's eyes roll and his head bobs with the rocking of their bodies. Yoongi reaches between them and rolls his palm over the tip of Jimin's cock, eliciting his eyes to open big and round. 

Already, Jimin looks dazed, back draped slightly with his head held up only enough to suck on Yoongi's fingertips, supported against his elbows. Jimin's fingers slowly dance over the material of his green floral sheet, legs flayed lazily around Yoongi's hips. 

Yoongi slowly tugs at Jimin's length, making him whimper and sputter incoherently. Jimin rocks his hips and squeezes around Yoongi in a rhythm matching Yoongi's thrusts – must be chasing his own high. Seeing Jimin looking dazed and eager to cum again, stuffed with fingers and cock, Yoongi's mind races as he attempts to sort out how he got so fucking lucky.

"'S good," Jimin whines, dropping his head back and letting Yoongi's drool-slick fingers drag over his chin. 

Yoongi continues his pace – a deliberate roll of hips – letting his fingers slowly fall past Jimin's chin, to his chest, tracing curves and dips until finally taking hold of him around the ribs. Gradually, Jimin's arms give way, and he lies back – head first, then shoulders, sinking deeper against green flowers with his eyes hazy and wide. 

"Are you floaty, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sweetly, wetting his salty-dry lips. 

Jimin hums and crooks a lazy smile, lifting his hands slowly to rub over his pecs and tummy. Yoongi follows the movements, feeling affection swirl and swell behind his ribs. At this pace, he thinks he could fuck Jimin for an eternity if he tried; his pleasure simmers just below the surface nice and steady, with no risk of boiling over too soon. 

"Ah—Yoongi," Jimin gasps, chest heaving and falling. "I'm—"

Yoongi rolls his palm over Jimin's tip and gives him a firm enough squeeze to make him sob. 

"Gonna cum, pretty?" he asks. 

Wide-eyed and mouth droopy-round, Jimin nods. His lips form shapes unvoiced, and Yoongi continues to roll and squeeze, languidly syncopating his quicker thrusts. 

"Cum for me, baby. Get nice and messy."

Jimin's eyes flutter, and his back arches slowly, head and heels digging into the mattress. "Please, please, please," he mutters softly like a prayer, palms flaying and squeezing above his ribs. 

"Relax and let go," Yoongi urges sweetly. "Let yourself float."

As if reacting on command, Jimin's body goes rigid and taut before quaking and sinking – thunder growling from his depths and dispersing out. He spurts tiny piles of cum onto Yoongi's fingers and palm, mouth forming softly-uttered stormy sounds. Even in the throes of incomprehensible bliss, every little thing Jimin does is eloquent; a performer and a muse. 

"Harder," Jimin groans, taking Yoongi by surprise. "P-please, Yoongi, need you."

Yoongi grips Jimin's hips with both hands, smearing cum on his sweat-slick, goosebumped skin. He picks up a pace that has Jimin's legs lifting and stretching, and Yoongi slings both calves against his shoulders before leaning in and taking hold of his hips once more. 

Jimin wails, eyes squeezed as if pained, licking and biting at his reddened lower lip. His arms lift and fall around his head, and he grips onto the bunched-up pink and orange comforter.

"This how you want it?" Yoongi asks, feeling his high build and build, impossible to hold at bay.

"Mmm, 's good," Jimin slurs, opening his eyes wide and smiling before his face falls back into a state of lazy bliss. 

Yoongi would love for Jimin to cum once more but has no idea whether he can. His cock is limp and resting against his patch of cutely trimmed pubic hair, jostling with each slam of Yoongi's hips against his thighs. 

"Not gonna last at this pace," Yoongi warns through grit teeth, his high climbing fast toward its breaking point. 

"Fill me," Jimin mutters dazedly. "Make me messy."

"Say my name," Yoongi rasps as he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes closed, gripping harshly to Jimin's soft hips. 

"Yoo—" Jimin sighs, bowing his back. "Yoongi. Please, Yoongi."

Pleasure courses through Yoongi, flowing like lava in his bloodstream. He keeps his pace steady, holding back from slamming too fast or too deep. Cum and lube squelch around his cock, and the thought of watching it drip from Jimin's used, puffy hole is just the push he needs to reach orgasm. 

"Fuck, Jiminah," Yoongi groans, dragging blunt fingernails in streaks along Jimin's sides. "I'm—ahh, fuck!"

Yoongi's body tenses and releases in waves of pleasure – white-hot and overwhelming. He quakes as he spurts his cum into Jimin's begging, fluttering hole, babbling nonsense, attempting to praise, failing around each syllable. Jimin sobs and squeezes, trying but failing to reach for Yoongi. 

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans forward, hands slipping and crashing into the mattress, dripping sweat from his forehead to Jimin's chest. Now that he is within reach, Jimin reaches and clings, grabbing Yoongi's shoulders and yanking down until Yoongi gives in and falls forward. Pleasure continues to tremble through him – chest heaving and jumpy as he does his best to settle and relax. 

"Holy shit," he mutters into Jimin's clavicle, covering his face in sweat. "That was—"

"Amazing," Jimin coos. 

Yoongi smiles and nods, kissing anywhere his lips reach in slow movements. "Amazing."

Where they lay in the center of the bed, Yoongi is unable to stretch his legs far before hitting the headboard, so they stay in a ball while he catches his breath and litters Jimin's shoulder, neck, and chin with affection. It takes time, but Jimin begins to come back to earth, clinging a little more purposefully. 

"You made me messy," he mutters with more clarity than Yoongi has heard for a while. 

"Lemme see," Yoongi says as he sits up, groaning from his soft cock sliding from where it was nestled nice and warm. 

Jimin groans shyly, covering his face with his hands as Yoongi sits up and lifts his spread legs. He puts up a tiny amount of resistance, but Yoongi holds firmly, nibbling his lip, trusting Jimin to use his safe word if he really does not want to be teased. 

Dropping a leg to the side, Yoongi uses his thumb to press pearly liquid back into Jimin's puckered hole, grinning like an idiot when Jimin whimpers, legs shaking. 

"Messy baby," Yoongi teases, earning his arm a light smack from Jimin's foot. 

Yoongi pulls his fingers away and watches as Jimin tenses, causing the cum to dribble back out. He rubs his hands over Jimin's shins and calves, watching as Jimin heavy-blinks at the ceiling. 

"Shower?"

Jimin's gaze finds Yoongi's, and he smiles, then nods. "Carry me?" he asks with a cute bat of his lashes that makes Yoongi's heart go haywire.

And although Yoongi makes a show of rolling his eyes and being indignant, he gets up and stretches, then turns his back to Jimin and taps his shoulder. 

"Get on."

"Ooh, piggyback?" Jimin shouts, and Yoongi turns his head in time to see Jimin sit high on his knees and fling himself over Yoongi's shoulders. 

Yoongi links his arms around sweaty thighs and has to bend and hop a few times to get Jimin in place – a mildly humiliating task while nude – then he is off, kicking discarded clothing items along the way. 

"We should take a bath," Jimin mutters into Yoongi's shoulder. 

Yoongi hums and nods, turning left into the hallway and again into the bathroom. "Anything you want."

Although Yoongi would love to dote on Jimin hand and foot, he is grateful when Jimin slides off his back and begins the bath, finding sweetly-scented bubble products to squeeze into the stream and controlling the temperature. Jimin slides out of the lace garter and mesh stockings, and sinks into the tub when the water is barely a few inches high. Yoongi presses a kiss on his forehead before leaving to fetch a glass of cool water from the kitchen, lingering just a moment to take in the sunflower pan holders and mismatched cooking utensils. 

Yoongi returns with the glass to his lips, taking slow, steady sips and smiling over the rim. 

"Sit up and drink this," he instructs a sleepy Jimin, whose cheeks are pinkened from the warm water. 

Once the bath is full, Yoongi slots himself behind Jimin, fitting perfectly with his legs outstretched. He rubs Jimin's shoulders and litters him with kisses. And when the water cools, he insists they shower off, helping Jimin finger the cum from his ass while licking deep into his mouth. 

"I could get used to this," Jimin groans as Yoongi wraps a towel tightly around his hips and uses another to squeeze the remaining water from his hair. 

"Good," Yoongi responds against his lips, finding it impossible to spend too many minutes without touching and kissing. "Want you to get used to this."

"Stay the night," Jimin whines, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle and walking him backward out of the bathroom. 

Yoongi smiles and nips at petal lips. "That was the plan."

"Stay tomorrow night, too," Jimin groans as they hobble out into the hallway, bumping Yoongi's elbow against the doorframe enough to make him hiss. 

"Won't you get tired of me?" Yoongi barely utters slightly pained against Jimin's soft, greedy mouth.

Jimin releases their hug and pulls Yoongi by the hand back to bed. He has a pep in his step as he gathers his phone – shutting off the music, finally – and finds the lube bottle tangled in the blanket. 

"Doubtful," Jimin finally says as he crawls into bed and plops down, yanking Yoongi's hand until he sits and lays beside him. 

"Alright," Yoongi grins, wrapping himself around Jimin and pulling him close, chest to chest, on their sides. His hair is still damp, but he is unconcerned when Jimin beckons so adamantly. With a gentle teasing tone, he says, "I'll cancel all my foreseeable plans and live only to serve you."

Jimin smiles and hums, saying, "Good," into Yoongi's mouth. 

In a tangle of tongues and limbs, Yoongi sighs and sinks, unable to hold back the affection that overflows from him. He thinks he could also get used to this. 

thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs & comments make the world go 'round!!! and likes are super appreciated too!!!

tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69​ @giriiboyy @mgthecat​ @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki​ 🍓 wanna be tagged in my posts? shoot me a message!!!

Denim & Strawberry is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. 

[domes]

part, 01

Prompt: "Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate"

This has happened a few times before usually on that little bit of road that separates towns, the one with the field that sometimes floods, sometimes has horses, that onetime had a grass fire that I called in before anyone else. Damn though I wasn’t listening to a podcast last I remember and I filled up just after work and now I’m down to a quarter of a tank, that’s like three hundred miles. My phone lights up with a notification, -- enter passcode to enable face detect-- “where the fuck are you iv started walking”

I pull into the next parking lot and its fucking huge. Wait, shit is this the ski hill? I stop the car and text back, “I’m sorry something came up, or happened I lost time and wound up driving to the ski hill where we watched the last percieved? metior showwer”

The contact is typing a response ellipses come and go four times before, “what do you mean lost time ru ok” I respond, “I’m fine just weird”

As I wait for a response The parking lot light above me pulses then winks out. It’s a little unnerving because it’s so dark in the mountains, so I drive over to the next lit area and by the time I put the car in park this light pulses and goes out too. Then the car turns completely off -- and then my phone.

I get out and have to use the actual key hole to lock the car. I head toward the lodge forgetting for a second that it’s the one from that horror movie. My phone boots and I grab a spooky photo of the lodge, and check my texts. “Are u headed back? Should i order some dinner” I stop walking to text back, “car turned off I’m going to see if anyone is at the lodge and can give me a jump… if i don’t get slaughtered first” I attach the photo of the lodge, and my phone dims and turns off. I spin around but can’t see anything as my eyes adjust after looking at my phone.

I want to run up to the lodge but only break into a light jog, the altitude is a bit much. When I get there the lodge is completely dark save for some path lights, around back there are no cars in the employee parking spots, but I notice a lit window just up the hill. A gate along the way is chained closed with an open lock.

When I reach what must be the caretakers cabin I can see all the way down to the parking lot and the lights are back on, including my car’s headlights. I knock and there is a long pause before the door opens a crack.

“uhh sorry, my car needs a jump, I think?” The caretaker hands me a card for a towing company and shuts the door. I knock again and tell him my story through an open window, hoping to elicit enough sympathy to get a direct jump start and maybe someone to come back to the lot with me. “It was so weird, the parking lot lights went out, then my phone, then another light and my car all shut” the door slings open and he peaks over my shoulder, “Funny what are you one of Jake’s friends? You filming this for his cringe ass TikTok?” I look back at where he seems to be looking and as I do the lights around the lodge wink out. He pulls me into the cabin.

[captains-simp]

Dark!Valkyrie and pet play, took r from midguard and chose to keep her, potential boot jumping if your comfortable if not idm COGRATS ON 1K 👏🏼👏🏼

Shout out to this anon that's waited months for this fic and never got impatient dkwksnsmwm

@romanoff062 helped me a lot with ideas so thank you bestie and some elements of the fic are inspired by @peachyteabuck 's fic And I Plead which I highly recommend y'all check out

2k words

Warnings: innocence kink, non-con/dub-con (R doesn't fully understand) forced heavy pet play, ownership, boot jumping, spanking, degrading, strap on sex, mild amnesia and kidnapping

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

New Asgard was a beautiful place. That much became apparent before you even set foot in the small town. All it took was a brief glimpse from the winding roads across the hills a few miles away and you instantly wanted to take a closer look.

You were on a road trip; had been for a while. It was a solo trip. A chance to get away from the hectic life back home and for you to figure things out. You had just graduated college and like many of your fellow students you had no idea what you were going to do next. So when you heard some people talking about a road trip, you decided you would give it a try aswell. You had a brief route planned but you ended up stopping off at a lot more places than you thought, even then none of them helped you with whatever it was you were trying to get out of that journey.

You parked up along the edge of town and grabbed your phone and wallet before getting out of the car and started towards the buildings.

It was starting to get late but there was still a fair few locals around who all waved or smiled at you as wandered around. You let the distant and lively murmer in the middle of town direct you and it wasn't long until you spotted a pub.

You knew you should have booked a place to stay for the night or few days, but you had been on the road for a while and wanted to enjoy the unique atmosphere of the town as soon as you could. Surprisingly, you weren't tired either.

A few people greeted you in the pub, clearly noting the new face, but they didn't draw too much attention to you which made you feel all the more at ease there.

You bought a beer and sent a quick text to your parents to let them know you were safe and took a sip of your beer as you admired the art work across the walls. They ranged from tapestries to paintings and even some sculptures, the likes of which you had never seen before. They had a distinct Viking style to them but with a regal touch.

"You like them?" You looked to your right to see a dark haired woman leaning on the counter besides you, nursing her own beer.

She had an easy smile on her lips that hinted at something more, as did her hazel eyes that watched you carefully. She was beautiful to say the least and it took you a moment to find the words ton respond.

"They're amazing, where are they from?" You asked as your eyes flickered away from hers, unable to hold her strong gaze.

"A very special place." Was all she said. "Valkyrie." The woman declared as she raised her bottle to yours. You smiled and tapped the top of yours against hers.

"Y/n." You replied. Valkyrie hummed.

"And what brings you to New Asgard, y/n?"

Convosation flowed between you easily from that point on. You found yourself telling the older woman a lot about yourself, more than you had ever told a stranger. You just couldn't seem to help it, she encouraged you to tell her everything and you did.

Once you realised you barely knew anything about Valkyrie the convosation took a swift turn to handsy flirtation. You didn't mind, of course, but it sure did surprise you when Valkyrie shamelessly pulled out the cliques and let her hand wander boldly up your thigh.

You were captivated by the stranger. And you wanted to experience her further, everything she had to offer you would willingly take.

You groaned quietly when you back hit the hard wall of the pub. Valkyrie pulled you into a rough, demanding kiss that you could hardly keep up with, only stopping when she pulled away begrudgingly, as though she wasn't running out of oxygen like you were.

"I want to see you come undone." She whispered lowly against your ear. You gave a whine and closed your eyes with a smile.

"Come on." Was all she said as she grabbed your hand and led you through the empty street back to her house that seemed somewhat larger than the ones around it.

You were barely through the door and she was undressing you. Her hands ran frantically over your body that was admittedly growing tired and weaker from your travels. It didn't help that everytime Valkyrie's fingertips danced across your bare skin you melted just a little more.

You whined longingly when she dipped her slender fingers through your wet folds. She glided them over your sensitive clit that was begging for any attention but she soon withdrew those torturous fingers once more.

"You want something, pet?" You head was too clouded with need to pay much attention to the nickname. You had no prior experience with anything of the sort, no real understanding of what Valkyrie had planned.

"I need you." You whined again and went to kiss her only for the older woman to chuckle and pull something out of her pocket.

She attached the collar swiftly. It was locked around your neck before you could object and even if you did, it would have been futile.

"What's this?" You asked, dumbfounded.

"Your collar. All good pets have them." Valkyrie said simply and reached her foot around the back of your legs to pull forward with her foot, making you fall to your knees with a thud.

"What does that mean?" You asked again, confusion and mild panic starting to rise.

"That you belong to me, so you better behave." Valkyrie warned before pressing her boot covered foot between your legs and pressing down on your neglected clit. You moaned despite yourself and grinded down on the polished material out of pure instinct.

You lifted your hands up to grip onto Valkyries thigh as you dragged your cunt along her boot but she slapped them away. You whined, not knowing what to do with your hands.

"Hands behind your back." Valkyrie instructed and you did so quickly, glad to have something to follow.

You built up a desperate rhythm quickly as you looked up at Valkyrie pleadingly. You needed your release badly.

"Please." You tried. Your wetness was covering her boot and you were so close to releasing everything you had onto the boot.

"No." Valkyrie defied as she yanked her boot away from you. You whined loudly and she tutted as she grabbed your collar and pulled you up to lean over the edge of her bed.

"Please make me cum." You whimpered, earning you a harsh smack to your ass.

"Pets don't speak unless spoken to. Seems like we have a lot of training ahead of us." Valkyrie said darkly. You groaned again, not knowing what the hell that meant and wanting to know what you were getting in to.

You tried to look back at her but your head was forced down into the sheets with one hand while Valkyrie's other started to undo her zip.

She pulled her jeans down and off swiftly and threw them across the room to reveal the strap on she had been hiding. This only became apparent to you when you felt the large head against your entrance, bringing out another breathy whine from you.

Valkyrie edged the tip of the strap into your less than prepared pussy and revealed in th noises it brought out in you. You squirmed against the bed and her hold but she continued to push onwards as she held you down.

It with take long for her to thrust the entirety of the the toy deep inside you, brushing against nerves that were rarely touched. With each passing second you lost more of your grip on your speech until Valkyrie pulled out only to slam the rest of the you into you.

You moaned out loudly and clung onto the bedsheets frantically as Valkyrie continued to fuck.yo7 at a brutal pace, never faltering. You were all overwhelmed with pleasure you hardly heard the dirty things the woman above you whispered into your ear. With that, it didn't take you long to get close.

"Gon cum, please!" You tried, your speech far too slurred for you even to understand luckily Valkyrie did.

"Cum for your queen." She ordered and with that, you fell over the edge. You moaned loudly as your back arched and you clenched around the toy, desperate to feel it as much as possible when you came around it.

Valkyrie didn't stop once you came, not after you came a few times either. Because while you may not have ever completely remembered the events of that day, you would sure as hell feel them for a while.

*

You awoke in a brightly lit room with walls that seemed to literally shine. You blinked quickly as you looked around and found yourself in a bedroom. A fucking big one.

Next to you, or more towering over you from your low position, was a Grande bed that was unnecessarily big, as though it was there for show more than comfort. The gold painted posters and luxurious pillows and covers made it the perfect image of a King's bed and had you wondering what fantasy land you had dreamed up in your head.

You looked down and furrowed your brow as you realised you were laying in large dog bed that fit you as if by measurement. It was lined with quilts and soft pillows that matched those on the bed.

You sat up in the bed and took in the rest of the room and all its glory. Long drapes hung from the ceiling and parted for an open pair of doors that led onto a sizeable balcony. With a deep breath, you got up out the bed and ventured towards it.

It was only when you left the warmth and softness of the bed that you realised you were fully nude, but there was no dresser or closet door around to provide you with any clothes. You timidly edged towards the doors and stood to the side to peer out, hoping no neighbours would get an eyefull of your vulnerable state.

It was also hard to stay oblivious to the thick black leather collar that was around your neck so tightly. There were some hazy memories it awoke in the back of your mind that you couldn't quite see.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you peered out from behind the curtain. What became apparent first was how high up you were. The balcony leaned over the whole land and let you see the whole of the city and the dark forests beyond it.

The building below you shone in the sun, gleaming boldly in a way you couldn't tear your eyes from. It was almost mythological.

"You're awake!" An excited voice exclaimed from behind you. You spun around to see the dark haired women coming through the main doors towards you.

You didn't recognise her at first, especially with the cheerful grin plastered across her face. But soon the pieces fitted together and you took a big step back away from Valkyrie.

"Don't be like that." She said with a frown, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body.

She walked towards you quicker than you could get away and gripped you collar, forcing you to your knees. "Much better." She mused as she looked down at you.

She attached the leash to your collar and gave it a tug as she strolled back to the balcony with you having no choice but to follow as she instructed.

"I've waited so long for this." She beamed as she looked out at the city. You sat by her side, your mouth and throat too dry to let you speak and feeling too scared to even try. "Finally, Asgard is back to how it should be, and with you by my side." She looked down at you with a smile and noted your confusion.

"Earth just didn't cut it." She said simply. "So we're starting over, again. We have this whole planet to ourselves and I'll make sure it stays this way." Valkyrie explained as she looked back out at the city she ruled.

"I want to go home." You piped up as you stared at the ground, too afraid to meet her gaze.

"You are home." Valkyrie said as she crouched down and lifted your chin to look at her. "I'll give you everything you could ever want." Your bottom lip trembled as you realised you really had no way out.

"All you have to do is be a good pet."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90

Join a taglist

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Grand theft Auto

You get a stow away at Tesco.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

A/N:Another blurb? Working hard on so many things I need these quick little works to take a breather. This basically came about after chatting to @being-worthy

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81 @iloveyouyen  @sofiebstar  @thefangirlsblog  @harrysthiccthighss  @isitmine @tinabean37  @loserrlauraa  @tumblnewby

You huffed moving the trolly full of shopping...You could feel the eyes, laughter rippling through the passers by. You swore, fuck the 5p charge on bags! You had bags for life...But they were left in your car...Again. And isn't it funny how bags for life got smaller and more expensive?

You shook your head growling ignoring the chatter. You knew what you were doing fuck them! You huffed you were an adult...Or so your mum said honestly you didnt feel it at the moment rolling up behinde your car popping open the boot.

Fuck that was hot! You frowned feeljng the heat escape the car you cant breath! You moved opening drivers door trying to get some air in the car. Cool it down before you got in. You'd forgot to get the aircon redone so that was out of the equation.

You growled yanking out the bags and huffed quickly trying to stuff your shopping in the bags as fast as you could wanting to just get home.

You felt so stupid this adulting thing was hard you just wanted to go back, to a simple time where mum would remind you to get your purse so you didn't look like a tit trying to buy milk with no money. Yeah that was a laugh.

Finally you had managed to pack the bags and closed the boot. You looked over to the trolly lock up...It was three bays over. You looked to your open door then the trolleys again and shrugged, keys tight in your hand. You'd risk it.

You moved quickly returning your trolly having to wait a few koments as a few kids in front tried working out how to get their pound back. After a few nerve wracking mineuts you managed to tuck your trolly away getting your pound coin back and jogged back to your car. Happy when you noticed the air was much cooler now. Just as you went to get in and toss your handbag in you heard it.

Panting? What the-OH JESUS! You squeaked reversing a few steps clutching your bag in front of you. There was a dog in your car....A big dog...A big fluffy dog. You blinked and moved closer slowly looking around for soemone who looked like they lost a dog.

He seemed pretty happy panting his tongue lolling out in what could be a smile?

"Hey there puppy? Err are you a nice puppy?" You were stumped the dog wagged his tail and lifted his head sniffing in your direction then leaned back on the seat looking out the windscreen. Almost as if asking why you wasn't getting in and driving him home.

"Hey pupper-roo err you need to get out now...This isnt you car love" he stopped panting and looked at you seriously, then climbed over the center consol and sat down on the passenger seat and stared at you. His stare was freaking you out so you stood back holding your hands up.

"Okay okay boo your cool you err you just stay there then" at that he began panting happily again. That was fucking freaky.

You spun around trying to see where the fuck the big boy had come from, sure there was a large park that dog walkers used a two minute walk from here behind the superstore and they did park here to walk them. You scratched you head looking around.

Do you shut him in? Leave the window open? No he was big he'd over heat and knowing your luck someone would fucking smash in a window to free him. You eyed him he did look hot. You moved pulljng out awayer bottle from your bag you'd got it for you but...He was panting hard!

You unscrewed the cap and crept around to the passenger side where he was happily making himself at home. You slowly pulled open the door and held out the bottle slowly. He swung around seeming to know that you were givingn him a drink. You tipped the bottle up and he greedily lapped as the flow of water.

You winced at how wet your seat was getting but this was a good dead. Adults did them! You were an adult and this doggy was lost and you will help find his owner.

You swallowed slowly moveing a hand to stroke him he watched but huffed and continued drinking the offered water. You smiled petting him slowly and twisted his collar around seeing a tag with a number. Bingo!

You quickly pulled the bottle away from him and got out you phone to dial the number making sure to keep your body covering the door so he wouldnt run off it was dangerous!

"Kal like Superman? Holy shit fair play your a big boy~ okay Kal sit tight I'm gonna call your owner okay boo?" He didn't seemed to care he just kept pawing at your hand trying to get more water you sighed tipping it again a little shallower this time so he could spill less. You typed in the number it rang twice.

"Hi err I've found dog?..Well he found me really."

"Oh my god really thank god is he okay?" You smiled hearing the relief.

"Yes yes he is fine snuck into my car little bugger-I'm at tesco by the park? I'm down the end on the right hand side along the wall"

"Oh he did I'm so sorry he loves car rides, I'm just crossing the road now I'll be a minute"

"Its no problem like I said he is fine, having a drink... I'm the yellow juke cant miss me~" he chuckled down the phone and you heard a bit of scuffling and wind rushing.

"I see you!" He said hanging up the phone and then you saw him, a huge beast of a man running to towards you in a blue tank top...Fuck.

He came to a stop infront of you and Kal barked but didnt move from his spot. The man quickly stood beside you leaning kissing the Kal on the face and clipped his lead on him.

"Kal you- dont you ever do that again! You hear me I thought I'd lost you boy...I'm so sorry, thank you I was terrified!" You laughed him off smiling patting his back the man was clearly shaken at losing his dog. You could sense he was embarrassed and decided to make a quip.

"You? I just about had a heart attack, I put back my trolly and he was trying out a little grand theft auto~" you both laughed out loud.

"Yeah that sounds about right~ I'm sorry about all this...He is a funny bugger...I can see why he was drawn to you though" the man held his hand out

"I'm Yenry and you already know Kal here" you gulped and shook his hand

"Y/n and honestly its no problem I'm gald I could help you both...You got here fast though" he laughed rubbing his neck and tried tugging Kal out of the car subtly but the dog was as stubborn as a mule.

"Kal come on its time to get out of the pretty ladies car I'm sure she needs to get home to her husband" you chuckled cheeks heating at the obvious flirtation.

"Quick sprint does the heart good!" You smiled eyeing him you doubted there was anything wrong with this mans heart but okay.

"Or stopp it completely~ I can't run for shit" he smiled eyeing you up and down with a cheeky grin.

"I wish! Then I'd have someone to pack all this shit away when I get home~" he turned to you a sly smile.

"No boyfriend?" You flushed not expecting him to take it to far but you shook your head. Watching as his face split into a grin and he laughed nodding to Kal rubbing his ears as if to say good job. Then turned to you licking and biting at his bottom lip.

"Well how about that? You err Kals walk isn't up...We normally get a coffee in town after...If you er want-want to come...So I can repay you he did get your seat wet...And ruin your day" you blushed twiddling your keys. Should you? I mean he is a stranger but...You can't deny you'd like to spend more time with him.

"I mean Kal he er wont be moving for love nor money now he is comfy~ so we may just have to forgo coffee and chat here all day~" you giggled looking at the huge dog who yawned slumping back against your seat.

"Well a latte does sound nice after the morning I've had" he smiled moving to face Kal.

"Come on boy we got a date" you watched shaking your head when instantly Kal jumped down prancing his feet looking up at you and Henry shut your car door. You locked the car and followed the two across the car park as henry began striking up conversation.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Bound (Part 1)

Summary: Dean wakes up in the middle of nowhere Colorado late one night during an ice storm, shoulder dislocated and with no idea how he’s back from the dead. His one and only thought is to keep himself together in order get home to the bunker and figure out what the hell is going on...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Ow,” I said quietly to myself. It was dark, middle of the night, and naturally raining. It was cold out, colder than it had been the last time I could remember being out at dark. It must have been winter now which meant it’d been at least a few months. Chuck was dead. Not that he would have brought me back. It must have been Jack. But why bring me back and not the others was interesting.

Cas and Sam were more like fathers to him than I was. I loved the kid, he was family. But I fucked it up a bit too much. He’d always been a scared kid with a million reasons to do the wrong thing and somehow he’d stayed good. I nearly killed him more than once. Nearly did it for what happened with mom. It was an accident and I’d almost pulled the trigger.

“Sorry, Jack,” I mumbled, holding my dislocated shoulder as I walked along the side of the road. “Should have brought back somebody else.”

I took a deep breath, coming up to a telephone pole. I needed to get the arm dealt with and forget about why I felt so crappy. I stopped when I got there and took off my belt, wrapping it around my bicep. I stood back against it and reached behind with my good arm and caught the end of it. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said. I made sure my back was as flat as could be and my left arm had room to move. “Okay.”

I yanked the belt hard in front of me, shouting as my arm moved back into the socket. I groaned and let go of the belt, slumping down and grabbing my shoulder, taking big inhales of air.

“That’s better,” I said, closing my eyes for a beat. I knew I had to get up again and off the wet grass. It took a moment but I opened my eyes again and got my belt back on. My hand went back to my arm but it was a dull ache now and I could live with that a lot easier. There was still nothing around but dark road, prickly icy rain and trees. “Jack. Show up already.”

I spun around, rain bouncing off the pavement. I’d probably walked two miles from the field I’d woken up in. It wasn’t where I’d died, that was for sure. 

“Maybe I’m actually dead,” I said. “That would make sense...but my shoulder wouldn’t be dislocated if that were true. Fuck, get your ass down here kid. What the Hell is going on?”

It was quiet as I stepped back onto the side of the road and kept walking along. There hadn’t been a single car so I was probably out in the middle of nowhere. If Y/N or Sam or anybody had done anything, I’d assume they’d be waiting for me. Not to mention how Sam was standing right beside me when Chuck threw out that force blast thing or whatever it was. He would have died too. Cas had already been gone but he knew it would happen for the plan. Y/N was a damn idiot and did my part of things. She was so fucking stupid. She should have...

“We both knew that neither of us were walking away from that fight. But I didn’t want to have to watch you die and now...I told you not to get in front of me and you died for it. So thanks for that.”

I clenched my fists, wiping off my face. I shook my head. I could be upset later. Something was going on. Something brought me back. The other crap I’d deal with once I knew what the hell was happening.

After another ten or so minutes there was a rumble behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder and turned up my jacket collar, hearing the car slow as it got closer. I kept walking when the lights hit me and cascaded along the road. 

“Hey,” I heard when the car came to a crawl beside me. I kept my head low and heard the car stop. “You need a ride or something?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“You know town isn’t for like, ten miles right?”

I stopped and looked inside the car. There were three guys in there, all around my age, two of them bigger looking. 

“Come on.”

“I like to walk,” I said, taking a few steps.

“You’re gonna be a popsicle,” the driver said. “You ain’t even-“

“I’m not looking to be in Deliverance tonight so get lost,” I said. I heard him park the car and I frowned when he got out. “Leave me alone.”

“Sorry but no. Me and my friends ain’t gonna hurt you. I don’t know what’s going on with you but you are not alright. It’s freezing out. I don’t know how you got out this far on your own-“

“Fuck off,” I said. The other car doors opened and I took another step away. No way could I take all three with a bad arm. 

“He looks upset,” said the one from the backseat.

“Hey. I’m Sam and-“

“Sam?” I asked, the driver nodding.

“Yeah. I’m Sam and these are my buddies Jake and Austin. What’s your name?”

“Dean,” I said, debating taking off into the woods.

“Why don’t you let us drive you into town, Dean? It’s not safe to be out here in the dark on your own.”

“I ain’t getting in a car with people I don’t know,” I said. 

“This guy. Geez,” said Jake, arguably the largest of the three. He stepped over and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the car. “You better not be some psycho axe murderer.”

“Where’s his axe then, genius?” said Sam. “Come on, Dean. At least ride with us for a minute to warm up before you walk again.”

I shrugged off Jake, glaring at him, hoping he got the picture to back off. I reached behind me and was grateful to still find my small pocket knife in the jacket pocket Y/N had sewn in.

“He’s probably on drugs, Samson. Let’s get out of here. I don’t wanna ride in a car with him either,” said Austin. 

“Dude. Just chill. Obviously something happened to this guy,” said Sam. He turned back towards me and I narrowed my eyes.

“I appreciate you trying to help and all but let’s go our separate ways,” I said.

“Could you take a hint? You look like you got your ass kicked. Come on before we all freeze,” said Sam. 

“Whatever,” I mumbled. Knowing I had the knife made me feel a bit better about the situation anyways. I got in the back beside Jake, Sam waiting a moment before he was driving again. They ignored me for the most part aside from Jake who gave me an occasional side eye in the back. We drove for close to twenty five minutes at a good speed and I realized why he made such a fuss about giving me a ride.

“I’m still hungry,” said Austin from the front.

“Mac’s is open,” said Sam. He drove down a quiet little main street and turned to the right, an all night diner with bright lights filling up the dark night. He parked and they all got out, Sam nodding for me to follow. I stretched my arm as I shut the door behind me, still trying to figure out where the hell I was. “Dean, come on. S’on me.”

“I should really get going,” I said.

“Come on. Least you can do for getting my backseat soaked,” he said. I rolled my eyes but followed him over to the door, the other two already in a booth. I sat down beside Austin, Sam taking the spot across. A waitress came over, all of the men rattling off dishes without even looking at a menu.

“Who’s your friend boys? Better looking than you three put together,” she said with a soft little smile.

“This is Dean. He’ll take a burger with tomato soup and grilled cheese. Extra hot,” said Sam.

“I’ll grab you a dish towel from the back. Your hair is dripping,” she said to me. I nodded and tried to wipe the water away that was soaking down my neck and into my damp shirt. She was back quickly with a few beers and a towel for me, the other three chatting about some basketball game or something.

“So how’d the hell you get all the way out there?” asked Austin. I set the towel down on the booth behind us, swallowing as I sipped from my glass of water. “You didn’t walk all the way from Jefferson did you?”

“Guys. Dean’s having a rough night. Let’s not play twenty questions with him,” said Sam. He gave me a smile and it reminded me of Sammy for a split second. I closed my eyes, an overwhelming urge to start freaking out hitting me. It wasn’t later yet. I’d learned nothing and there wasn’t any time to be wasted getting upset.

“Your girl break up with ya and leave you on the side of the road? I bet that’s it,” said Jake. 

“Dude. What’d I just say?” asked Sam.

“Well he’s upset and pretending not to be,” said Jake.

“She was in an accident. She and my brother, my family. I just needed to walk,” I said. They all stared at me and I was tapping my wet boot on the ground, wanting to get some food in me and get the hell out of there.

“I’m sorry man,” said Austin. “You okay?”

“Need to get home is all,” I said, taking another sip of water.

“Where’s that for you?” asked Sam.

“Lebanon,” I said.

“Where’s that?”

“Kansas.”

“You’re in Colorado right now you realize,” said Jake.

“Lay off,” said Sam, bumping his elbow into Jake’s ribs. “Hey. I uh, I got a spare cot in the garage if you want to crash there tonight. It’s not pretty but it’s warm.”

“I gotta go home,” I said.

“Well you’re not gonna get far in an ice storm on foot in the middle of the night.”

I shook my head and was silent the rest of the time we waited for the food to arrive. Sam looked at me every so often but the three of them left me out of the conversation which I was grateful for.

Forty five minutes later Sam had dropped Austin off at home and it was just the two of us in the car. He looked in the rearview and I sighed.

“My place is just around the corner,” he said.

“Why are you so-”

“Cause my fiance died last year and my family’s been through hell long before that. I get it. You don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But you need food and a roof over your head at the very least. I was way worse than you pal. Without those two, I wouldn’t be here anymore. So do you really want out of this car or do you want a warm bed for the night?”

“I’ll be gone before you get up,” I said. He shrugged and drove down the street for a ways, making a few twists and turns, eventually stopping at a modest little cottage style home. I got out after him, following him into the dark house. He flipped on a light and cut through a hallway, opening a door to reveal a semi-full garage.

“Cot is on the shelf. You can take the couch in the living room if you want but you seem to bite my head off at every little thing so you can decide,” he said. He started to leave and I shut my eyes.

“Sam,” I said. I turned around and he gave me a careful smile. “Why would you let a stranger stay in your house?”

“Cause I remember Dean Winchester. Rugaroo. Kansas City. House with the blue front door,” he said. “Saved my parents lives. The ride and meal was cause I’m a nice guy. You can stay in my house for saving my parents.”

“Losing your fiance, that really happen?” I asked. 

“Yeah. Really fucking sucks,” he said. He pulled the garage door shut and showed me where to put my boots and jacket. He left for a minute and returned with some dry clothes. “Bathroom is right there.”

“Thanks. Samson,” I said as he tossed a blanket on the couch for me to use. He stood up and his eyes looked sad when they caught mine. “Sorry for being a dick.”

“You’re grieving. You have a right to be a dick,” he said. “Stick around in the morning and I can help you get home. You don’t got much for cash from the looks of it.”

I nodded and he left, pattering around in a room down the hall for a few minutes before it got quiet. I went to the bathroom and put on the dry clothes, hanging mine in the shower and hoping they’d be better in the morning. I washed off my face and found some pain medicine in the drawer for my shoulder, throwing it back before I planted my hands on the counter and took a shaky breath.

“Later,” I said, running my hand over my face and leaving, going back to the couch. I laid down and pulled the blanket over myself. It was warm and smelled nice, something Y/N would like probably. “Jack. If you brought me back, I could do with a talk right now buddy. I’m not mad, I promise.”

The house remained silent and I rolled over to my side, face jammed against the cushions. I wasn’t sure what was going to be waiting at home but I was starting to doubt whether ‘later’ could last until then.

_________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[olsone13]

I Wrote it in Your Shower

A bouquet of flowers and some Italian food inspire a song

A/N: lol okay so i was oddly inspired while working this evening and this is what happened. Please be kind and any feedback is greatly appreciated!!! I also didn’t edit this very much after the initial writing of it...

TW: None really, sexual behavior implied but very, very lightly. 

The library was quiet. And that’s the way I liked it, just me and the books and my music. They had lives of their own that lived in the people that borrowed them and lost themselves between their pages. The books came back to me, always a little different than when they left me. I was on my break, reading the latest novel I had become absorbed into in the old leather chair by the window in the back corner of the library. It had the best natural light and no one seemed to bother me when I was back here, even though it was the best spot in the library. As the music flooded my ears and my eyes skimmed the pages, I saw a pair of scuffed boots standing a little too close to my chair to be an accident. Pulling an earbud out I asked the individual belonging to the boots what he needed.

“If you really need help, I can take care of it but I’m on break and Catherine at the front desk would be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, um, actually I was wondering if I could just sit and join you. I need a moment,” he said with a sigh. He looked familiar but I couldn’t place where I knew him from.

“Uh sure, it’s my favorite spot in the library and I’m in a good mood so have a seat,” I said as I shuffled myself and my sprawled lunch away from the other leather chair.

“The name’s Harry. And thank you for sharing your spot.” A soft smile reached his eyes as he looked back up at me. It was the I realized who he was and that he was singing to me in my headphones right now.

“Y/N. And of course, anything for you Harry” I said as I turned my phone screen towards him, to show that he was in fact the person I had in my headphones at the moment.

“I won’t tell anyone your secret, that you’re here, if you don’t tell anyone about my favorite spot” I winked at him when he quickly realized I knew he exactly who he was.  

“Deal,” he smiled back at me again, relief replacing the worry that had quickly appeared.

I finished my food and the remainder of the chapter I had started, all while Harry’s eyes never really left my space. He would occasionally check his phone but it felt like I was an animal being observed in a zoo. I started to gather my garbage and the book to check out since it had hooked me by chapter 1, asking Harry if he was staying any longer.

“I’ll be a bit longer I think. I like this space y’know? When are you done with work, I owe you a coffee or a drink or something for saving m’skin back there” He said as he shifted in his chair.

“I’m done around 3, so like an hour and a half, I know a cute cafe down the block and we can walk since it’s still nice out.” I quickly pushed myself out of the chair, walked to the front counter and tossed my garbage. The rest of my time passed quickly and I seemed to find every chance to visit the back corner to put away books or to just peek my head around the corner and catch his eye.

I clocked out and put my name tag on my desk so I wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. I threw my tote bag with my laptop and other work materials over my shoulder and picked up my purse. I went to go grab Harry, only to find him waiting for me outside the library specialists office.

“A specialist huh?” He asked me as we walked toward the staff parking lot.

“Uh yeah! I have always loved research and books and so I found a home here and I do some side projects with local colleges to assist on research materials and stuff.” I said as I unlocked my car door and threw my work bag and cardigan into the back seat. I was left in the sleeveless dress and loafers I had thrown on this morning.

“The cafe is just down the street a little if you’re okay with walking, otherwise I can drive us.”

“I think it’ll be nice to walk, just uh show me the way.” I started off down the path that cut through the park and towards the main part of old downtown. As we approached the café, I finished my story about how I had ended up in town. Harry opened the door for me and I walked up to the counter ordering a large caramel iced coffee, my drink of choice since I was 16 and needed an excessive amount of sugar to down the bitter drink. Harry stepped up and placed his order as well, grabbed both of our drinks and then picked out a small table in the back corner of the café.

“Wow a big ‘back-corner’ kinda guy huh?” I chuckled as I sat and grabbed my drink from him.

“S’habit.” He shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.

2 hours later and we were finally stepping out into the darkening main street. We walked back to my car and I looked at Harry again, asking where he was staying.

“Oh uh don’t worry bout me, I’ll find a ride” he said as he kicked a rock across the parking lot.

“Let me drive you there so you don’t get picked up by some weirdo, please?”

“A’right” he nodded like he was pressuring himself that this was the best decision, and got into the passenger seat.

After pulling into the hotel parking lot, Harry and I looked at each other for a moment before he said, barely above a whisper,

“Thank you for the normal day today” and getting out of the car. I waved back to him as I drove away and watched him disappear into the hotel doors. Cursing myself for not asking him to stay longer or at least get some way to contact him, I drove back to my apartment. I laid in bed and distractedly read my book. After reading the same page over and over again, I gave up and turned off the bedside lamp.

Morning came entirely too fast, and my dream of kissing Harry was cut short. I shook the sleep from my head and hopped in the shower before getting dressed for another day among the books.

“There’s something on your desk, came in as soon as I opened the doors this morning dear,” Catherine told me as I walked into the library.

“Thanks!” I called back as I entered the shared office space. When I looked at my desk, my jaw dropped, a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers was sitting on my desk. I pulled the card out as I set my bags on my desk chair.

“To being normal and back-corners. Call Me - H”

Harry Styles had just sent me flowers AND he wanted me to call him? I thought to myself, as I got my desk set up for the days work. I wold be doing more research than front desk work today, which meant more time to stress over whether or not I was actually going to be calling him. By the time lunch rolled around, I had dialed his number 6 times but never actually called. Yes I was a grown woman, reduced to jello by one celebrity crush, but who wouldn’t be? I dialed the number and held my breath, praying for the voicemail.

“Mornin’ was waitin’ for you t’call me.” I could hear the smirk as I stammered out a hello.

“Well, I uh, you know was busy. I’m a professional you know?” I said as I walked into the staff room to grab my lunch, which was a sandwich again. I sat down on the plastic chair and Harry asked me about my day and what had happened so far.

“Oh you know, the usual. I walked in to a giant bouquet of flowers and then trying to focus on very important research but focusing on the wrong… erhm… subject” I said through bites of food.

“The wrong subject huh? Why don’t you tell me all about this wrong subject at dinner tonight? 7pm work for you?” He asked.

“Bold of you to assume I have no plans, but yeah 7pm should be great.” I said with a little smile, knowing he was grinning from ear to ear by the way he sounded on the phone.

“Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. My turn to drive, love” He said as he hung up the phone. Did I really just get asked on a date? Tonight? What was I supposed to wear?

I smoothed the black dress down and picked up my purse. It was simple, but it was flattering and we were just going for some Italian food at the bistro by the river. Harry pulled up in front of my building and I walked over to the car. I slid into the front seat and looked over at Harry who was wearing a floral shirt, flared cords and some boots.

“Well you clean up nicely, although the flared pants are a dead give-away” I said as he started to pull away.

“What are you talking about?” He looked confused as I chuckled to myself.

“Well clearly people know you’re here, otherwise you would not have been hiding in my library yesterday. Those pants are a dead giveaway that it’s you, they’re nice though. I like them.” I finished with a shrug. He just looked at me and shook his head not saying anything.

We enjoyed dinner, wine and sharing stories about out lives, mine seemingly more boring than his. The drive back to my apartment felt too short and I didn’t want the night to end, so I took a chance.

“If you… want to… you can, uh come up to my apartment. Nothinghastohappenthoughifyoufon’twantitto” I rushed through at the end. I could feel my cheeks darken, the wine from earlier also contributing the their rosy shade.

“I would love to.” Harry parked the car and followed my into my apartment. As soon as I opened the door, I kicked my heels off and let out a sigh of relief. I walked into the kitchen and took down two glasses to pour us some more wine. Harry wandered around my small one-bedroom and looked at the pictures and books that littered every conceivable surface. I handed him his glass, and his hand lingered on mine for a moment before he plopped down on the couch.

“Well, s’alright if I end up staying here? Don’t feel like driving anymore and I sense that bottle won’t last long” He said as he took a sip of his wine.

“Yeah, I’ll grab you some clothes if you want to sleep in uh not corduroy pants and some blankets and stuff” I said with a giggle, the wine from the restaurant hitting me as well as the half glass I just gulped down. I grabbed some big shorts that I kept for god knows why and an extra large shirt that I usually used as a smock for house projects as well as a blanket and pillow from my bedroom.

“More wine?” I asked after I set everything down on the floor besides the couch. He followed me into the kitchen nodding his head to indicate another glass wouldn’t hurt anything. Before I could even think about it, Harry’s lips crashed into mine. The kiss was warm and smooth and tasted like pasta with the wine he had just finished. Wine and extra bedding forgotten, we didn’t sleep much that night.

I woke up to Harry singing in the shower, something about sunflowers if I heard him correctly. I rolled over and threw on an old t-shirt from the floor and made breakfast.

I was in the library when I heard the song for the first time. Harry’s new album had come out recently and I had finally had time to listen to the whole thing while I was working on putting loaned books back in their place. It was the song from the shower, but it was on his album. Did he write a whole song about that night? I felt my heart rate pick up. Harry and I hadn’t talked much since that night and hardly at all while he was writing the album. I pulled out my phone and hopped he still had my phone number.

“I listened to the album, it’s so good H. I think my favorite was the one about kissing in the kitchen lol” I sent the message before I could overthink it anymore. My phone buzzed again a couple minutes later and I smiled as I saw who it was from.

“Well I would hope so, wrote the bloody thing in your shower after all.”

[loverdrew]

You Found Me (1) | J.M

Summary: John B and Sarah Cameron are lost in the Bajamas, the pogues are having a hard time living life as normal, the Outer Banks have never been so quiet. But someone new comes into town looking for some answers, and a new life that she never imagined.

Warnings: none (?), some angst

I stepped off the docks onto the slightly sandy roads. Many people in all attire from tourist beach shirts to working class uniforms filled the exit of the ferry. All I had to my name was a map of the Outer Banks, a backpack and about 50$. Many fishermen lined the streets leading to town, so I stopped by one of them to ask for directions. He was an older man in his 50’s, white and grey facial hair wearing overalls and fishing boots, carrying what looked to be a heavy crate of sea life.

“Hi excuse me- sir!” I waved him down, and he gladly set down his crate.

“What can I do for you miss?”

“I’m-I’m so sorry I’m new here and I was just wondering if you could point me to a place where I could get a quick bite to eat? Preferably some place cheap?” I laughed, trying not to give away too much information.

“Oh yea just head down this road here, make a right and head down by the bay with all of the boats parked, a nice shack right there owned by a family with a daughter about your age! Nice people, good food.” He smiled kindly.

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!” I was ready to walk off, but he laid a soft hand on my forearm.

“My name is Joe if you ever need anything, I’m always down here by the dock.”

“My name is Y/N, nice to meet you Joe.” I smiled, and began the short walk to the restaurant.

The Outer Banks sun hit differently than any sun we ever had where I came from. It was even more abrasive, and felt like it was instantly giving me a sunburn. I guess that’s on me for not bringing any sun screen even though I knew I’d be needing it. But a tan is always well needed, right?

I walked a ways away passing by big mansion sized houses, all the same color with nicely groomed front laws. The water sitting perfectly in their backyards. I was jealous, seeing as that’s always been a dream of mine, to live by the sea, or at least have a pool in my backyard. Back home, that was a luxury even we couldn’t afford, and wasn’t ever truly needed. These people just had the whole ocean and they didn’t even know how truly lucky they are.

As I passed by the majority of the houses I spotted the medium sized shack Joe had told me to go to. It seemed like a hot spot, where tourists and workers go and it seemed like the hustle and bustle part of the town. I saw a dark skinned girl around my age with big curly hair serving others with a smile on her face. Must be their daughter. I tucked my map into my backpack and walked in looking for a place to sit. I was about to look up when I felt a cold liquid go down the front of my shirt, one of my only shirts. I stumbled back, pulling the cloth away from my body as I felt it run down my leg. 

“Oh my god, sorry there stranger.” A guy with blonde hair wearing a stripped button down shirt stands in front of me. He had what seemed to be a posse behind him consisting of 2 other guys, looking seemingly wealthy. He was quick to grab some napkins from a nearby table and try to dab my shirt. The other two dudes scoffed at him, acting as if helping a girl was funny.

“Look it-it’s fine, with this heat it’ll dry fast trust me.” 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it didn’t.” The taller guy behind him wearing a polo smirked, eyeing me up and down. I instantly placed my hands over my chest.

“Okay Rafe, Topper, all of you guys leave her alone.” The curly haired girl stood next to me placing a kind hand on my shoulder. I sunk into her side, looking at the ground.

“Whatever Kiara, the only Kook who’s a killjoy.” The boy I assumed was ‘Rafe’ responded. All the boys walked away but not before Topper could send me an apologetic look. I turned towards Kiara, thanking her, still dabbing my wet shirt.

“No problem, Rafe and his friends give trouble wherever they go, Kooks think they run the island. Here, sit down!” She pointed to the bar, right in front of the cooking area. She set down a menu in front of me, and poured me a glass of water. I didn’t even know how thirsty I was until I drank the whole thing.

“Long day or something?” She laughed.

“You could say that, and by the way, what’s a Kook?” I questioned.

“You’re not from here aren’t you?” I shook my head, pulling out my map and waving it to prove her point. “See here, in the Outer Banks, there’s two different groups of people, the pogues and kooks. Kooks are exactly like Rafe and his crew, boys and girls that come from money, go to private schools, vacation in Bora Bora and drive fancy cars. Pogues are from the other side of the island, come from middle to lower class homes, dressed in hand-me-downs, working minimum waged jobs to even eat. It’s not fair, but that’s the truth of our dynamic here.” She continues to buss tables and clean dishes while she’s talking to me.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, which side are you on?” She shakes her head.

“See that’s a complication question I get asked all the time. I live here in Figure 8, which technically makes me a kook. But I never fit in, with any of them, so I made some friends of my own, they’re pogues. They’re like my family, I do everything with them.” She beamed when she talked about them. The way she talked about them, the way she described them were all the things I ever dreamed of having when it came to friends and family. But it seemed like that was something I was never going to have. 

“Which one would I be?” I joked, searching through the menu.

“Between the way you interacted with the kooks, and the way you’re interacting with me, definitely a pogue.” She smiled at me. “Pick anything you want, on the house.”

“Really? Thank you Kiara, I mean it.” 

I ended up ordering a cheese burger with everything on it and a side of seasoned fries and a soda with it. My body was craving food and energy, I needed all I could get since I didn’t know when my next meal would be. Kiara was great company while I ate, telling me more about her friends, school and work life, even little things about her family. She tried to pry into me by asking the same types of questions, but I knew I couldn’t tell her. It would make everything so obvious. I didn’t come here for a vacation, or make new friends, but to piece parts of a story together. My story. I had to be the one to find out everything, or else it wouldn’t feel like mine anymore.

She continued on with the stories of her friends, but one name stuck out, that made me choke on the last piece of the burger. John B Routledge.

“Whoa you okay there?” She patted my back.

“Yea, yea totally fine just, ate too fast.” I took a big sip of my soda, trying to calm my drying mouth. My hands wobbled, break becoming shaky. “Uhm, so tell me more about John B.”

“It makes me cry thinking about him and Sarah missing...” She took a deep breath, taking her time to feel comfortable in sharing the story. I would be lying if I said I didn’t hear about it, but everyone heard about it. The story was all over national news, but the more information I could find out, the better, even more so from a close friend. I like Kiara, she seems like a good person, but I need to know more about him, it was crucial.

“I’m really, really sorry about your friend, I could never, ever image what that’s like to lose someone that way.” I placed my hand on hers, a sign of comfort.

“It’s been a struggle, for all of us. It’s been almost 2 months and they haven’t found any thing of theirs. Not even the boat, which is crazy, like, how does a friggin’ boat go missing!” I could tell it was getting her worked up, so I tried to steer the conversation away from that day. In her mind, it was still fresh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it anymore.” She wiped her eyes quickly and got out from behind the table, seeing I was done eating.

“Let me take it for you.” I placed the plate in her hand and watched her wash it. “So, where are you headed after this?”

“Oh uhm, I’m looking for Sun St. I-I have a map but, I mean-” I struggled even turning the map in the right direction. She laughed at me, taking the map from my hands and chucking it in the nearby trash can.

“With me, you’ll never need that again. I have friends that live on that street, that’s where the pogues are. I can go with you, let me finish up a table and we can go together.”

After finishing up at the restaurant Kiara and I walked together towards the other side of the island. We made jokes, told more light hearted stories and discovered more about each other. I found out she and I were more alike that I would’ve ever thought. It made this place feel more like a home than a place I was running to. 

We eventually made it to the street, walking past the several houses that looked nothing like the houses back on Figure 8. Many of the lawns were unkept, broken doors and chipping paint were the distinctive factors of each house. It was more quiet, the sound of ocean waves filling up the open space. The leaves are trees rustling, quietly falling onto the pavement. 

“Which house are you looking for?” She asked.

“Oh uh-” before I could answer, a blonde boy in a grey tank top and a dark skinned boy wearing a flannel and hat appeared before us. I let out a huge breath thanks to them.

“Kie! You made a new friend?” The blonde spoke, smiling down at me. His hair was messy, a slight cut on his lip, but he was still the most handsome guy I have ever seen. He had bright blue eyes but I could still see a hint of darkness behind them, his smile was genuine but I could tell was slightly forced. He had a back story, this one was bound to be interesting.

“Yes, but not for you two to play with. She’s new, and she’s nice so don’t ruin her.” She played around, bumping me with her shoulder.

“I’m Y/N, you guys must be Pope and JJ, I’ve heard about you guys practically since I got here. It’s nice to put a face to a description.”

“So what did she say about me?” The blonde smirked at me. I stepped in front of him with my hands on the backpack straps, looking him dead in those beautiful eyes. 

“Mmmmmmh, the bad boy who loves to start fights, flirt, and drink beer until the sun goes down-” I sniffed him, confirming that he did smell of alcohol. “Yup, you are JJ.” He laughed, looking me up and down, his eyes stopping at my lips. I stared at him for a few seconds more, feeling my lips go dry before I pulled back and cleared my throat, looking towards the other guy.

“And you’re the friendly, incredibly smart, but also kind of awkward Pope.” He looked taken back. “Her words not mine I swear.” 

They all laughed and started walking towards the last house on the street. It seemed familiar to all of them, almost as if they all lived there even though they have their own homes. There was a big tree in the back that had toppled over onto the lawn, the back screen door was open, and the porch creaked right as a foot fell upon it. These details didn’t bring back specific memories, but it brought back a feeling of nostalgia as I walked in. There were still pictures on the walls of John B and his dad, even a few of his mom. The 3 walked in and headed straight towards the kitchen, plopping onto the counters and opening a few cold ones. 

I had stayed near the front door looking at all the photos. I touched one gently with my hand. John B was so little, only a few years old in these photos where he was seen learning how to swim, surf, and some in this very living room. They both look so alike, almost carbon copies of each other. Looking at them felt familiar, even though I don’t remember a single thing. I was so young, I had only been in here a few times before I was never to be brought in again. I already felt like I knew John B, even if we never remembered knowing each other.

“Hey Y/N!” Pope yelled, I jumped back putting my hand back down. “Want one? We’re taking them outside!” 

“Uh, yea thank you! Just give me a minute!” I began putting my backpack down, when a certain snarky flirty boy appeared behind me. I could sense he was looking at me even before I stepped foot into the house, casting a shiver down my back.

“I saw you looking at the photos of John B.” He said lowly, sipping his beer.

“Y-yea, Kiara told me what happened to him and Sarah, I’m really sorry JJ, I know he was like your brother.” He smiled sadly at me.

“He’s coming back, we’ve never given up hope.” 

“I never would either, I would travel across the ocean for someone who meant that much to me, even they didn’t know it themselves.” I looked back at John B’s smiling baby face photos, making me crack a smile too.

“So what’s your story hm? Kiara just said you stumbled off a ferry into her family’s restaurant, what are you the little mermaid or something?” We both laughed, him leaning back onto the couch awaiting my answer.

“No, nothing like that. I’m just me.”

“So what are you here for?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

“Well then I can’t wait to find out, Y/N.”

He stepped closer to me, rubbing my forearm as he stared down at me. I could feel his breath hit my forehead. He said my name with such ease, running down smooth like good liquor. My heart was pumping out of my chest in ways I had never felt before. There was something about JJ that made all of these actions feel normal and comfortable, but I was here for a purpose. I never thought I could make friends here, let alone flirt with the island bad boy. Maybe this was a plus, but it’s only my first day. Things were going to be different here this time.

[boilerevans]

Hello There

Chris Evans One Shot Series. 

Pairing: Cop! Chris Evans x Reader (Single mom)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing, Smut (unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk)

~~~~

Every second that you drove, you beat yourself up more and more. How was it possible to do this? Forget to pick up your kid. Your toddler. As your sat at the stop light, your fingers tapped on the steering will.  

“Come on.” You groaned.  

The light turned and you hit the accelerator. Your eyes looked at the time on the dash. You could make it before they’d take him to after care. You pushed down further on the gas. Music blared through the speakers making you go even faster. You looked at the dash one more time to check the time. That’s when you saw the flashing lights in the side mirror.  

“Fuck!”  

You pull into the parking lot just ahead and watch as the police car follows behind you. You park the car and turn off the radio before the officer makes his way to your window. He knocks on it with his knuckle and you crank the window down.  

“Good afternoon miss.”  

“Hello Officer.” You look at his name tag.  

Evans. You then look up at his face. He’s got dark blonde, almost brown hair. Incredible jaw line. Nicely trimmed beard. Dark sunglasses.  

“Miss, do you know why I pulled you over today?”  

“I was speeding. But you see, I’m a single mom and I work from home. I lost track of time and now I’m late to get my son and he’s only four. And you know how everyone has that one song that just gets them in the zone. Well that song came on, and I was thinking  “damn, I’m gonna make it in time”. So, I guess I just started going faster. And wow I am rambling and not helping my case huh?”  

You look up at the police officer and he gives a small smile.  

“That’s alright miss. Can I just see your license and registration please?” He asks.  

“Oh of course.”  

You begin rummaging around your glove box and hand him the paperwork. You then get your license out of your wallet.  

“And there’s that.” You smile as you give it to him.

He looks down at it.

“I’ll be right back Miss (Y/L/N).”  

You watch in the side view mirror as he walks back to his car. Damn. That is a nice ass. You sit in your car anxiously waiting for him to come back. You begin tapping your foot. You are not going to hear the end of this from your son. You could hear him now.  

“Mama you’re in big trouble.”  

You looked back over to the side mirror and see the door of the cop car open up. You tuck your hair back behind your ear.  

“Here’s your information back.” He says.  

You look up and him and he takes off the sunglasses to reveal gorgeous blue eyes. He leans down to get a better look at you.  

“Miss, I’m going to let you off with a warning today.”  

“Oh thank you so much.” You smile.  

“But in return, I was wondering if you’d want to go to lunch with me tomorrow.”  

A blush crosses your face.

“I’m sorry what?”  

“You’re a beautiful woman. I’d like to take you to lunch.”  

“Oh. Okay.”  

“Does tomorrow work for you?” He asks with a smile.  

You nod yes.  

“Rapscallion? 12:30?”  

“Sounds perfect.”

“You better go get your boy.” He taps on the side of your car.  

You watch him get back into his car before you pull away. You make it to the school just after 3:30pm. Your son doesn’t speak to you until you make it home. 

“Nathan. Please talk to mama.” You kneel in front of him on the couch.  

“You forgot. Again.”

“I didn’t forget. I was busy with work. I was driving to get you and then a police man pulled me over.”

“Stop going fast.” Nathan says and tries to look around you to see the television.

You stand up and sit next to him on the couch.  

“Why do you always act like you’re in charge?”  

“Because you’re bad at it.” He says bluntly.  

“Well thanks kid.”  

He scoots close to me and looks up at me.

“Make me cupcakes and I’ll forgive you.”

You laugh and place a kiss on the top of his head.

----

You were lucky enough to convince your mom to take Nathan to school. This way you could take all the time you needed to get ready for your date with Officer Evans. It hit you earlier that morning that you had never caught his first name. You pick out a floral baby blue dress that hits just above your knees with sleeves that cover your shoulders. You head into the bathroom and recurl of a few pieces of hair from the day before then swipe some mascara over your lashes. You check the time and quickly slide on some chucks before running out the door.  

You make it to the restaurant a little early. You look into the rearview mirror to check your hair and then see an old pickup truck pull into the spot behind you. You see the familiar hunk step out of the truck. You get out of your car and walk over to him.  

“Hello there.” You say.  

You can’t help but give him the once over. He wears a pair of nice fitting jeans with a red and blue flannel, along with a pair of work boots. His hair was neatly parted.

“Hi.” He smiles, “You look beautiful.”  

He leans forward to put a hand on your waist followed by a kiss on the cheek.  

“Before we head in, I didn’t catch your first name yesterday.” You stop him.  

“Oh. It’s Chris. Chris Evans.”  

“It’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”

You follow him up to the front of the restaurant and he opens the door up for you. Your seated by a window where the shades are drawn to block the sunshine. The waitress brings out glasses of water and then leaves you both to look over the menu.  

“What are you thinkin’?” Chris asks to break the silence.  

“I’ve never been here before. It all looks good.”  

“There really isn’t anything that’s bad.”  

“Would you pick for me?” You close the menu and set it down on the table.  

“I think I can do that.” He gives a small smile.  

You smile back. The waitress comes by and Chris orders for the both of you.  

“So, tell me about your boy.” Chris says to start a conversation.  

“Nathan. He’s four and a first grader. He’s unbelievably smart. Started reading last year. I have family on the school board so we got him into school early. He was very upset with me yesterday for being late.”  

“What did he say?”

“That I need to stop going fast and that I’m bad at being in charge.”  

Chris laughs, “Sounds like a tough critic.”

“I somehow got roped into making cupcakes to make it up to him.”  

The waitress comes out with our side salads.

“Smart kid.”  

You both begin eating, having small talk between bites.  

“What kind of cupcakes?” Chris asks after a while.  

“Vanilla with cookies and cream frosting. They’re his favorite.”  

“That sounds amazing.”  

“I’ve got some left over if you have time to stop by.”  

“I would like that.” Chris gives a sly smile.  

“I just need to leave my place by three or Nathan will have my head this time.”  

“I’ll make sure you’re on time.”  

They finish their lunch and head back out to the parking lot.

“Do you want to just follow me?” You ask.

Chris nods, “I’ll see you there.”  

You take your time as you drive on the familiar roads back to your small home outside of town. You pull into the driveway after ten minutes on the road and Chris parks on the street. He walks through the grass and stops behind you at the front door.

“You know, I live just three streets over.” Chris says following you into the house.

“Small world.” You set your keys and purse down on the table by the door.  

As you make your way to the kitchen, Chris follows closely behind. His eyes watching your hips move with every step. You stop at the counter and open up the container of cupcakes. Chris leans on the counter next to you.  

“Here you are.” You hand him a cupcake.  

He takes it from your hand and your fingers brush. You watch him as he peels off the wrapper and takes a large bite. Chris’s eyes close and he lets out a muffled sigh. You chuckle and go to the fridge. You grab jug of milk and wave it at his as an offer. He nods. As you pour the milk into the glass, he walks up next to you. His hand rests on your waist.  

“That was truly amazing.” He says.  

You pick up the glass and go to hand it to him. He grabs it and sets it back on the counter. He cups your face with his now free hand. Your eyes meet his, and you both begin to lean into each other. Just as your lips tough his, the alarm starts to go off on your phone.  

“Shit I have to go get Nate.” You begin to walk towards the door.

“Wait.” Chris grabs your wrist.  

“Chris please.” You sigh looking into his eyes.

“Come to my place tomorrow for dinner.”

“I can’t get a sitter with that late of notice, my mom works nights at the hospital.”  

You walk away and grab your purse back off the table.  

“Bring the kid. He sounds great.”  

He follows you out the door and waits as you lock it behind you. You scoff.

“We’ve been on one date.”  

“(Y/N), look at me.”  

You turn to him. A smile is wide on his face.  

“You are literally the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. And I know that we just met, but you can’t deny there’s something incredible here. I want to meet the kid because he’s important to you. And he has great taste in cupcakes.”  

You sigh and kiss his cheek.  

“I’ll run it by Nathan. But I really need to go.”  

You walk over to your car and get in. You roll down the window and Chris leans on the door. You exchange numbers and exchange one last kiss. Once you have backed out of the drive way, you look over at Chris and he waves.  

As you drive to the elementary school, your mind races through all the things Chris said today. You sit anxiously in the pickup line and your leg begins to bounce against the seat. You see the doors open to the school and the children come running out. Not long after, Nathan is crawling into the back seat.  

“Hey kid.” You look at him in the rearview mirror.  

“Hi mama.”  

“I wanna hear all about your day.” You say as you pull out of the parking lot.  

During the short ride home, the boy rambles on about the eventful day of first grade. When you pull into the drive, Nathan is quick to get out and run to the front door.  

“And where are you headed?” You ask as you follow him up the door.  

“It’s time for a cupcake.”  

Your mind goes to the taste of the frosting on Chris’s lips.  

“Can I talk to you about something while you eat your cupcake?” You ask as you unlock the front door.  

You sit down at the kitchen table. Nathan stands on his tippy toes and reaches onto the counter to grab a cupcake.  

“Why did you leave a half-eaten cupcake on the counter?” Nathan asks sitting at the table.  

“I had a friend over and I had to leave to get you before he could finish it.”

“Like a boyfriend?” He asks with a mouthful frosting.

“Well it was a date yeah.”

“Is that why nana took me to school?”

“Yeah bubba it is.”  

He sits in silence for a while.

“How do you know him?” Nathan asks.

“Well, it’s the police officer from yesterday.”  

“You’re dating a police officer! Mama that’s so cool!” A huge grin covers his face.  

You let out a small laugh.

“So, you’d be alright with going to his house for dinner tomorrow?”  

Nathan gets up from his chair and comes over to give you a hug.

“Super cool.” He says and squeezes you tightly.  

----

“Can I knock mama?”  

“Sure, you can bubba.”  

The little boy runs up the steps and knocks as hard as he can with his tiny fist. There’s a sound of a dog barking and footsteps. The door opens and there stands Chris. Dressed in a dark blue dress shirt and slacks.  

“Why are you so dressed up?” Your son asks.  

“Nathan.” You scold.  

Chris crouches down to get to Nathan’s level.  

“Well bud. I’m trying to impress your mom.”  

Nathan looks at you and then back at Chris.

“She’s mama. Now where’s your dog.”  

Nathan pushes his way past Chris and into the house. Chris stands up and you walk up to him. You place a hand on his buff chest.  

“You look very handsome.”  

Chris places a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into him. Your lips meet his and the sparks appear yet again. You pull back and hear Nathan giggling inside. Chris snakes his hand around your waist and leads you into his home. You find Nathan on the floor with the dog licking his face and neck.

“Dodge come on. Get off.” Chris chuckles.  

“I like him.” Nathan giggles.  

Your eyes around the small house. It’s basic yet detailed at the same time. Many pictures of his family on the walls.  

“Dinner is ready if you guys want to join me.” Chris motions into the next room.

Nathan gets up off the floor and runs in the direction of the food. You smile at Chris as you walk past him. The table is set and candles are lit in a line along the counter. Nathan is already sat in a chair. There’s a large pot of fettuccine, a side of vegetables and garlic bread.  

“It looks amazing.” You say.

Chris pulls your chair out for you. He stays standing and begins serving both you and Nathan. You watch Nathan’s face as Chris puts a scoop of vegetables on his plate.  

“I was starting to like you.” Nathan huffs.  

Chris sits down and begins serving himself.  

“They’re good.” Chris defends.  

“Carrots are the worst.” Nathan begins eating his noodles.  

You begin asking Chris about his day at work and life as a police officer. You notice Nathan hanging onto Chris’s every word as he talks about this job.  

“Have you ever killed a bad guy?” Nathan asks.  

“Bubba.” You scold.

Dodger comes running in from the living room.  

“No, not you Dodge.” Chris laughs, “Eat your carrots and I’ll tell you Nate.”

Nathan’s face lights up and he begins digging into the vegetables. Under the table, Chris places his hand on your knee and gives it a squeeze. After quickly finishing his carrots, your son looks up at Chris with adoring eyes.  

“Now before I tell you. You have to tell me what you thought about the carrots.”  

Nathan looks at Chris and squints his eyes.  

“They were fine.” Nathan says quietly.  

“Well. No buddy. I’ve never killed anyone. I have been shot at though. Grazed my arm.”  

“Do you have a scar?”  

“Yes I do.”

“Well can I see it?” Nate begins to get excited.  

“Maybe another time Nate.” Chris says and then continues eating.  

Nathan huffs and gets out of his seat.  

“Nathan Jacob. Where do you think you’re going?” You ask him.  

He stops next to you, “May I be excused mama? I want to go play with the dog.”  

You look to Chris and he nods. Before you can say anything, your son runs off into the next room. You let out a sigh.  

“Thank you for dinner.”  

Chris leans into you and gives you a kiss.  

“I enjoy taking care of you.”  

You give him a soft smile and he kisses you again.  

Chris suggests that you all watch a movie. You and Nathan sit on other sides of Chris and he puts his arms around the both of you. After twenty minutes, Nathan is passed out snuggles up next to Chris.  

“I can carry him out to your car?” Chris offers.  

“Well since it’s not that far we just walked. I can go grab my car and come get him?” You say and get off the couch.  

Chris takes the kid into his arms. Nathan naturally wraps his arms around Chris’s neck and lays his head down. Your heart melts at the sight.  

“I can carry him back. Can you grab my wallet and keys for me? They’re on the kitchen counter.”  

After a few minutes, you’re on their way down the street to your house. The spring air feels amazing.  

“You look really beautiful tonight.”  

You look over at Chris and smile.  

“You’re pretty handsome yourself.”  

“I like the kid. He’s fun.”  

“You’ve only been with him for one night. He gets worse.” You chuckle.  

“I’d like to spend more nights with the both of you.”

“I think we’d like that too.”  

“But don’t get me wrong. I would like some alone time with you too.”  

“I could use some adult alone time.”  

Chris laughs. Nathan moves.  

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You swat his arm.  

You make it up to your front door and let Chris in front of you.  

“Where’s his room?”  

You lock the door behind you and show Chris through the kitchen back to Nate’s room.  Chris lays Nathan down on bed and you begin to take off his shoes.  

“Pajamas?” Chris asks softly.  

“He’s got pajama pants in the third drawer over there.”  

You undress your son and Chris comes back with a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. You smile up at him before sliding them on Nathan’s legs and tucking him in. You follow Chris back out kitchen.  

“Can I interest you in a cupcake that someone left unfinished on my counter?” You joke.  

Chris wraps his arms around your waist. He leans his head down as his lips graze your ear.  

“I’d rather have something else that’s sweet.” He whispers and places a kiss on your neck right under your ear.  

“Chris.” You sigh.  

Your arms snake up around his neck. His lips make his way down your neck. As he bends down, his arms wrap around her legs and he picks her up from the ground. Chris walks over and sits her on the counter. A plate slides off the counter and crashes on the floor. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth before you laugh. Chris looks at you and then bends down to pick up the plate.  

“I can’t believe you did that?” He jokes.  

“Oh I did that?” You laugh, you wrap your legs around his waist.  

“Yes. I’m gonna have to call the police. File a noise complaint.” His hands reach up and grab your face.  

“I’m not to worried. The guy I’m seeing is a cop.”  

Chris’s lips crash into yours. You feel like a teenager again as the two of you begin making out. He moves one of his hands to push your hair back and he begins kissing your neck. Your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. His fingers hook under the collar of your dress and pull back to expose the top of your breast.  

“Chris.” His name falls from your lips.  

He brings his lips back to yours.

“Where is your bed?” He asks.

“Do you always get women in bed with you on the second date? Because I’m not like other women.”

“I know you aren’t. That’s why I want you in your bed. And not bent over this counter.”  

A heat falls across your whole body as he whispers the dirty words in your ear. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he picks you up off the counter. You direct him through your small house, through the living room and around the corner to your bedroom. He shuts and locks the door behind him. You flick on the light.  

Chris walks over to your bed and gently lays you down. His hands trail up your bare legs, with one lingering between your thighs. Goosebumps cover your skin.  

“Can we get this dress off of you?”  

You lift your hips up and he takes the fabric into his hands. He takes the dress off of your body and you slowly sit up.  

“So gorgeous.”  

Your hands follow up his arms and to the buttons of his shirt. As you begin to undo the buttons, Chris kneels onto the bed and undoes his belt. With the buttons undone, the shirt slides down his shoulders and he then takes off the white undershirt underneath. This reveals his softly sculpted abs and a hairy chest. You begin to chew on your lower lip. His head dips down and he begins to kiss along the edge of your bra. You run your fingertips along his biceps and bring a hand to the back of his neck. He brings his lips up to yours.  

A hand makes its way across your stretch mark covered belly and to the waist band of your panties. He continues kissing you as he takes a finger and slides your panties over to find the arousal that was building between your legs. He presses his finger tip against your clit and slides his finger down between your folds. As he slides his fingers into you, your hands begin to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.  

Chris’s lips leave yours and he removes his fingers from you. He stands up and begins to remove his pants. You sit up on your elbows and watch as his pants fall down his legs to reveal the outline of his large cock. You sit all the way up and slide your panties down your legs. A smile crosses his lips.  

“Scoot down here.” He kneels down onto the floor at the edge of the bed.  

Your legs hang off the edge of the bed and he parts your knees.  

“So beautiful.”  

He runs his tongue along you, licking up your wetness.

“So delicious.”  

He stands back up and removes his boxers. Your shoulders fall back onto the bed. As he lays over the top of you, he kisses your lips and lines himself to your entrance before sliding into you. A humming moan leaves your lips. He stays close to you as he slowly finds his pace. His lips kiss your neck.  

“Chris.”  

“You feel better than I could have ever imagined.”  

He began to pick up his pace but the bed began to squeak loudly. The two of you began to laugh softly.  

“If we move to the middle of the bed, it’s not so loud.” You suggest.

He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up off the bed. He gracefully moves you both up the bed. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and he pushes back into you. He wraps one arm around your waist and uses the other to brace himself. He quickens his pace and a soft moan leaves your lips.  

“Cum for me, (Y/N). Let go.”  

“Oh fuck.”  

“Where do you want me to finish?” He asks softly.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m on the pill.”  

Chris groans and rests his head in your neck. You wrap a leg around him and he makes the pace even quicker. Within minutes, the both of you are coming undone with each other. He pulls away and lays down next to you.  

You let out a heavy sigh and roll into his side. His arm wraps around you and pulls you in even closer to leave a kiss on the top of your head.  

“Would you mind if I stayed?” He asks.  

“Please stay. Don’t ever leave.”  

[dying-hemlock]

The Figure At First Church of Carnation

“The Figure at First Church of Carnation”

A Story by: Dying-Hemlock

Bart fell silent as the headlights of James’s car illuminated the front door of the church. It was falling apart and held together through a combination of rusty nails and strangler vines, which anchored what remained of the walls to their support posts.

“What the hell are we doing here?” Bart asked.

“You told me you were bored, so I figured we should so do something exciting,’ James said.

“And hanging in a church parking lot is your idea of exciting?” James rolled his eyes, and he turned off the car, putting the keys in the middle console. Bart shot him a look, raising his eyebrows a little.

“Don’t give me that look. Nobody is out here. Nothing is gonna happen to the car.”

Bart rolled his eyes and turned his head towards the church. Somehow it made him feel cold, even with the car slowly heating up from the summer air. He couldn’t place what made him feel this way. It was just an empty church, right? James stepped out of the car, a 2006 Subaru Outback, shut the door and motioned for Bart to do the same. He exited and joined James in the parking lot. Bart let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in when he heard the crickets chirping outside. Hearing something other than the car’s engine helped make the scene before him less creepy.

“James. Really, what are we doing here?” Bart asked. “I don’t need to tell you anything,” James said.

“Well, then you can take me back home.”

James sighed. “Fine. You always have to ruin my surprises, don’t you?”

“Get on with it, or take me back.”

“I heard some kids talking about it while I was waiting tables at Shoney’s last night. Apparently, this place is haunted by some deranged priest who tried hanging some ‘witches’ back in the day and can’t rest till his work is done. I don’t know. It was some bullshit like that,” James said.

“And you seriously believed some story enough to drag me out here?” Bart said.

“You are the one who said you were bored. Be grateful I’m doing something for you.”

Bart crossed his arms and stared at James. After a quick look, James huffed and turned around, walking towards the church. Bart followed and didn’t say a word to James as they approached the building. As he moved closer, Bart began to notice the only sound he could hear was the gravel crunching beneath his boots and that the air had grown unseasonably cold.

“James, I think we should go back.”

James did not respond to Bart as he inspected the door. Unable to find a lock, James took a few steps back and ran, forcing his foot into the door. Bart looked up and gritted his teeth as the structure began to sway.

“James, wait!”

Bart was too late to stop him as James had already started to charge the door again. With a loud crack from the dry wood, the door splintered, a portion of it flying into the chapel. Bart looked up, seeing the building swaying even more now, and pulled James away from the structure as it began to rock even more wildly than before.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Why don’t you take a look, you dumbass?!” James said, pointing at the church. James quieted down when he saw the church’s walls and roof were rocking like the boats down at the town’s marina. Eventually, though the church fell back into place again, the vines that grounded the building still holding firm.

“Don’t try anything like that again,” Bart said.

James shook off Bart and entered the chapel, careful to dodge the large splinters poking out of the now broken door. Bart followed closely behind, holding his breath as he passed through the threshold. When he entered the space behind the door, Bart breathed again as he could see there was not much of a roof present. A few semi-rotted beams still made up the somewhat triangular frame above their heads, but others had fallen down, crushing a few up the pews. There were also large gaps in the shingles as well, making the starry sky visible through them.

“So…” Bart said. “Is there any way to summon this priest or whatever?” “I don’t know. I lost interest in the conversation after they gave me their card. It’s not my job to satisfy them after that,” James said, poking around some of the more complete pews by the altar.

Bart stayed near the back, his hands in his pockets and his muscles tensed. He scanned his eyes around the room, which soon landed on a red book in a pew near him. Intrigued, Bart lowered his shoulders a little and walked to the book, and began flipping through it. It read ‘First Church of Carnation Hymnal.’ It was an old songbook. The pages were yellowed. He could make out a few hymns on some of the pages, “Doxology,’ ‘Mighty Fortress is our God,’ and ‘How Firm A Foundation’ were a few of the titles.

A yell from the other end of the chapel interrupted Bart’s skimming, “Hey, look at me!” James said. “Hear ye, hear ye. You all are going to Hell unless you repent of your sins, you filthy sinners.” James said as if addressing a room full of churchgoers.

James continued on for a little bit before he was interrupted. “You think that’s funny, boy?” a voice said from behind him.

James spun around. A tall and rail-thin man dressed in a black suit looked more like it belonged to a mortician behind him. His black hair was wild and had streaks of gray running through it, and his voice was like sandpaper to Bart and James’s ears as he spoke.

“Do you think that’s funny, boy?” the figure said even louder this time. Bart and James were frozen in their spots. The priest began to approach Bart and repeated his question over and over again. James slowly backed up. He began to sweat heavily as the figure closed the space between them. Bart tried yelling at James to tell him about the window behind him, but his voice wouldn’t work. All that came out was a squeak. As the figure backed James into a corner, Bart dropped the songbook. It made a loud thud against the dusty floor and sent up a cloud that burned his throat. As soon as the book made contact with the floor, the figure turned its head to Bart. By that point, the figure had already trapped James against the wall and hand a hand around his neck, and James’s pleas to Bart were getting harder and harder to hear.

“Bart…please…” James said.

“Do you think that’s funny, boy?” the figure said, this time to Bart.

The words sent a shock through all of Bart’s muscles when he heard them. He turned and sprinted out the door. The shards of wood scraped his skin, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t turn around, either. He kept going and looked for a way to get away from the church. Bart spotted the car and sprinted till he was at the old hatchback. He fumbled through the console, his fingers failing to grasp the keys due to the sweat coating his palms. Bart looked up and saw the figure sprinting towards the car. Overcome with fear, he finally grabbed hold of the key fob and jammed it into the ignition, and turned on the vehicle. Bart put it into reverse and backed out onto the road, tires squealing as he did so. Bart sped off for several miles and stopped at the end of a long driveway leading. The sign near the road was hard to make out in the low light but read, ‘Heishman Farm.’ When he stopped, his chest was heaving and burning from a combination of the dusty church and exerting himself more than he had since high school. After catching his breath, he suddenly jolted upright.

“James!” he said.

He couldn’t go back. What if that thing was still at the church? Better to take the risk than to leave James behind. Throwing caution to the wine, Bart turned the ignition. The car sped off once more, kicking up the dust in the driveway, and moved down the road back towards the church. 

When he arrived, Bart leapt out of the car and began calling for James. The air was silent, except for the crickets, which were once again chirping. He tried calling again, but nothing. Bart ran up to the church entrance, trying to squeeze his way through, but a massive splinter by the base of the door caught his calf muscle and sent him to the chapel floor. He winced in pain. Bart tried to get up but had a hard time due to his injured leg, which was now coated in blood. Eventually, he got stable enough footing by using a pew as a crutch and pushed himself up. 

Bart’s stomach fell when he saw the room. There was no figure anywhere to be seen. The songbook was gone too, but most importantly, James wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The pews were empty, and the altar was too, free of the tattered banners with the Methodist church icon and wooden podium that once adorned it. Bart was alone in that church in the middle of nowhere.

END

[hottestthingalive]

Let's see how you turn this fake tittle into analogical: “And this is why you don't try to run away from home on the middle of Halloween”

i lost my first draft of this. have my second one. if i have to make a third though i might lose my mind

But it helps that I was told to write analogical, and therefore will feel no guilt when I do this time >:D

-Virgil grows up surrounded by warnings.

-Never sing in the darkness, his parents and teachers and friends and family say, whispers and reminders that guide their lives. Tell the bees of the events of the day. Wear black after the first leaves fall. Do not make deals with a stranger if you cannot see their eyes. 

-And on All Hallow’s Eve (or Samhain, or Halloween, or simply October 31st, depending on who is speaking) always be inside when midnight strikes. 

-Except. 

-Except Virgil stopped listening to his parents a long time ago, if only because thinking of himself as worthless and useless and a burden and a failure got to be exhausting. And his teachers, as he gets older, seem to say a lot of things that are wrong. He doesn’t have many friends anymore, and the rest of his family... Well, he never got along with them, anyways. 

-He still obeys most of the rules, if only for convenience’s sake. If he wears black in the fall and winter like everyone else, if he is seen whispering to bees as he tends to the garden, if he is careful and cautious and anxious all the time, no one suspects anything, for that is the way they all are. And thus he is not suspicious, and no one seems to notice that he hoards money in a box under his bed, that the bank account he’d originally made separate from his parents’ to “learn responsibility” has been completely cut off from them, that he studies maps of the town and looks into housing and works on fixing up his ancient car whenever he has the free time. 

-It is a town of warnings, and it is a town of monsters, too. And Virgil has always dealt with monsters by hiding, clamping his hands over his ears and curling up in a ball under his bed. 

-He thinks, now, he will try running. 

-And so on the night of October 31st, he goes to bed at ten. “Goodnight,” he says to his parents, and when they check on him just before midnight, standing at his door and looking at his bed, he pretends to be asleep. They do not check under his bed and see the bag stashed underneath it, or pull down the covers and see him wearing his sneakers and jeans under them. He hears them go to bed, and when he checks on them a few minutes later, they are sound asleep. 

-This is Virgil’s only chance, the night when no one will be outside to call his parents and tell them their son is leaving. He has been out after dark before, though never on Halloween -- invariably, someone spots him and calls his family. They are respected, in this town, and as his mother tells him, they cannot tolerate disrespect. Even the mayor is under their thumb, Virgil thinks, as policies his father agrees with pass and ones he disagrees with are never mentioned again. 

-No one crosses the Mallorys. Except, of course, their own son. 

-At half-past midnight, he climbs out of his window, backpack slung over one shoulder and his suitcase already packed into the trunk of his car, parked a little ways down the street. It is an easy climb, one he has made many times before, and though it is cold outside, his sweatshirt protects him from the worst of the wind. He has his parka and boots in the car as well, plus food, water, money -- all he needs. He is seventeen now, Virgil reminds himself. He can do this. It is legal. 

-He tries not to think about what will happen if he is caught, so clearly trying to leave, and on All Hallow’s Eve, no less. He tries not to think about what his parents will do. 

-He tries not to think about it, and yet the sound of his heart in his ears blots out every other sound. 

-It is surprisingly easy. He sticks to the shadows, makes as little noise as possible, blinks slowly at the cats that he passes and watches them blink back, and he is in his car in no time at all. He is sure people hear him driving past, rush to their windows to see who is so foolish, who is awake, but he goes as quickly as his clunker of a car will allow and he leaves houses behind for the forest in no time at all. 

-“Fuck,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and he can’t help but grin. 

-Said grin abruptly vanishes when someone beside him says “Well, you seem to be in quite the hurry.” 

-Virgil nearly drives the car into a tree, turning to see a man sitting beside him. He’s tall, the man, and is dressed one of Virgil’s teachers, blue tie and black polo shirt and black khakis. He is wearing sunglasses, the kind where you can’t see the eyes at all, and yet Virgil knows that he is looking directly at him. 

-“Don’t panic,” says the man, which, yeah, too late for that, buddy. “I will not hurt you.” 

-“Oh, that’s comforting,” says Virgil sarcastically, his knuckles white as he clings to the wheel. “Who are you? Did my parents send you?” 

-“No,” he replies, and adjusts his glasses. He does not answer the first question. “I thought your people did not leave your dens on Samhain.” 

-Virgil blinks. Turns that over in his head. “What are you?” he asks next, and the man grins. His teeth are pointed, and gleam in the light from the console. 

-“Oh, so you are a clever one, then,” the man remarks, and Virgil tries to focus on not going off the road when the creature whispers its title into his ear. 

-“Fuck,” he says, and it is not celebratory this time. 

-“I told you I would not hurt you,” says the being beside him, sounding oddly perplexed. “I come in peace? I... offer my support and aid in whatever venture you may chose to embark on?” 

-Virgil just stares at him for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road. “Will you get out of my car?” he asks, though he already knows the answer. 

-“Not yet,” he says. “This is fun. Do you want a... ‘granola bar’?” 

-He is holding out one of the bars Virgil had packed for the trip. It is peanut-butter flavoured, in bright packaging. 

-“I know not to accept your food,” he says. 

-“It is not mine,” the thing remarks, sounding confused again. “It is yours. And it is not enchanted. Why would you refuse it? Do you not like it?” 

-Virgil is silent. The creature taps his chin with one long finger, staring down at the granola bar in his hand, and then straightens. “Ah. You do not trust me.” 

-He still does not answer.

-“That is... understandable,” he agrees, sounding rather dejected nonetheless. “I swear, though, I mean you no harm. I have come to warn you, in fact.” 

-His kind cannot break an oath. Virgil knows this. That is the only reason he turns, breaks his silence, asks “Warn me of what?” 

-“They hunt you,” says the creature. “Your kin. They want to find you, Virgil Mallory, before you disappear.”

-He doesn’t even ask how this being knows his name. “Why?” Virgil says instead. 

-“Humans will always cling to power,” he replies, tapping a finger to the space between Virgil’s eyes. “And you are gifted.” 

“Cursed, more like,” he mutters, batting the hand away. Virgil’s eyes are purple and green, two unnatural shades that have always seemed to glow slightly in the dark. His parents had made a point of never speaking of the warnings surrounding a thing like him, but he heard them nonetheless. 

-Beware of children whose eyes are not their own, and keep a changeling close, if you ever hope to see your own child ever again. 

-There is a reason he grows his bangs over his eyes. 

-“Gifted,” the being insists, and Virgil just sighs, turning to look at the road behind him. Even if he felt inclined to doubt his story, the lights of cars speeding down the road behind him is more than enough proof. 

-“Okay,” he says. “How do I escape them?” 

-The creature holds out his hand, glasses shining, and Virgil can’t tell if they are reflecting the console or the moonlight or if they aren’t reflecting anything at all, glowing from the inside. “Let’s make a deal, Virgil Mallory.” 

-They find the car, parked in the middle of the road. This is all -- it is empty, nothing at all left behind to indicate it ever held Virgil at all, save for the black and silver and blue and purple dust that looks like a galaxy and shines in the darkness, covering the insides of the car. All of his belongings are gone, and his mother runs her fingers through the dust and screams. 

-“I never got your name” Virgil says as he stands up, brushing the dirt from his jeans and turning to face the creature, in a forest far away where his parents will never be able to find him. 

-“I am Logan,” he says, and grins that sharp smile again. 

-It is years later that Virgil remarks “You know, I wasn’t supposed to make deals with any person I couldn’t see the eyes of.” 

-“Really?” Logan asks, tilting his head to the side, looking so adorably confused. “What of deals not made in person? How does that work?”

-“I couldn’t make any bargains with anyone from outside the town,” Virgil explains, moving his hands in the way Logan had taught him, the way that speaks to the bees and prompts them to come closer. 

-They stand together among summer flowers, before a hollow tree trunk, and around them the bees dance. 

-“I’d like to stay with you forever,” Virgil admits.

-“Well,” says Logan, taking off his sunglasses, “let’s make a deal, then.” 

-His eyes are like the sky at midnight, blue and black all at once, both absorbing light and shining with it, and Virgil thinks he falls in love all over again at the sight. 

-“I think I’m done with deals,” Virgil shrugs, reaching up to tug Logan into a kiss. “You could make me do anything you wanted without them, anyways, my love.” 

-Logan turns a delightful shade of red at that, and the bees hum around them as Virgil laughs. 

-He never returns to his village again. He tells the children they take (the ones who would have died otherwise, the ones who were hurt, the ones who were not loved) that he’d made a mistake, running away with a scoundrel of a faerie like Logan (appearing in the middle of a metal deathtrap of a vehicle, really!) but the way he wraps his arms around his husband afterwards doesn’t exactly make the children believe his story. 

-Virgil never regrets his deal made with the man whose eyes he could not see, nor does he regret running away from home on Halloween. He’s gotten Logan out of it, and the other beings like himself. He’s found a family here, in this forest where the bees hide amidst his hair and the flowers curl their stems around his fingertips, where the other fey treat him like a gift instead of a curse and the children do not run away as he approaches. 

-He is happy, for the first time in his life. And the warnings he has grown up with vanish over the years, replaced with other words. 

-You are kind. You are a gift. You are loved. 

-I love you. 

-And so Virgil breaks every rule, disregards every warning, and he has never been happier.

-(Except for the one about bees. Bees like gossip, and it’s always good to tell them about the events of the day, especially the deaths. Sometimes, they can help.)

I actually loved writing this one!!!! I hope you liked it too, anon! 

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!

[440mxs-wife]

Take the Shot

Pairing: Dean x Reader

You pulled your royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova into its parking spot in the bunker garage, then turned off the ignition. You walked around to the trunk and gathered up some of your grocery bags. You took the case of beer out of the trunk and set it on the garage floor. With your hands full, you kicked the bunker door, which was answered by Sam Winchester.

"Hey, you didn't have to get all this by yourself, I would've come out to help you," he remarked.

"Good thing you're here then, Sam, there's just a little more to bring in. You can carry the rest of the bags and the case of beer down the stairs if you want to help," you  suggested.

"Consider it done, milady," he replied with a dramatic bow.

You rolled your eyes but grinned at his exaggerated response, then continued on to the kitchen to put away your groceries. By this time, Dean had wandered into the kitchen as well, reaching into the fridge for something cold to drink.

"Where's the pie? I don't see any pie. How could you forget the pie?!?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Relax, Dean. I'm making the pie from scratch. As soon as I get done putting groceries away, I'll  start peeling the apples," you assured him.

"Aw, thank you, sweetheart," Dean replied as he beamed a smile at you brighter than the sun. He squeezed your shoulder as he left the kitchen. You ducked your head just in time for him to not see the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean was always doing things like that, calling you "sweetheart" or "honey", squeezing or rubbing your shoulder. You were certain he didn't mean anything by it, just a bit of harmless flirting. However, it was those little things that made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow warm. Dean didn't know it, but you had developed feelings for him. You tried to push them down, ignore them, talk yourself out of them, anything, but it was no use. You were falling in love with Dean Winchester.

You had first met the Winchesters on a vampire hunt assignment given to you by Bobby Singer. Bobby took you in when you were twelve and your parents were killed trying to take out a bunch of demons. He taught you about what each monster's weakness was and how to kill it, along with some basic self-defense and weapons tactics. Over time, your firearms skills grew  to expert marksman level and you were downright lethal with a blade.

There were a few times that you had come close to confessing your feelings for the elder Winchester. Then you saw him with his arm around some woman from the bar, and that was enough to change your mind. You turned your attention back to your drink, and counted the minutes until you were home, back in your bedroom, alone with your thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You finished dicing the apples for the pie, added the sugar and the cinnamon then mixed the ingredients together. You set the bowl aside and moved on to prepare the crust. While you were folding and rolling the crust, your mind wandered back to Dean. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't notice Sam had walked in.

Sam cleared his throat, which startled you and made you jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Everything okay?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, Sam, why not?" you mumbled, returning your attention to assembling the pie.

"You just seem a little distracted, that's all," Sam observed.

"No, I'm not," you replied defensively.

"You didn't even hear me come in, as you would usually say, 'lumbering like a moose'," he teased. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing, Sam. Nothing at all," you responded. "And you came in here for....what, exactly?" you prompted as you slid the pie onto the oven rack and set the timer.

"Oh, yeah, found us a case, around Ruthie's new hometown. Sounds like a simple salt-and-burn spirit kind of thing," he explained.

"Really? It's been months since I've seen her! Damn, I just put the pie in, and it won't be done for another hour or so. Can't let it burn," you replied.

"We can wait till it's done and then go. I'm sure Dean will approve, considering it's for a good reason," Sam added.

"Okay. I'll call Ruthie and get my bag packed. You can tell Dean about the change in the itinerary," I said as I left the kitchen.

Sam shook his head and chuckled. Dean walked in a short time after you left, so Sam told him about leaving a bit later than expected. He grumbled a little at first, then it was explained that the pie needed to finish baking first. As predicted, Dean changed his mind and was okay with the later departure time.

As you packed, you called your best friend, Ruthie, to let her know you would be up in her area, working a case. She was excited that you were going to be so close by and could visit, though she wasn't crazy about the reason you would be there. Before you hung up, she warned you to be careful and to watch out for yourself and the boys so that no one got hurt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few hours later, another successful hunt was in the books. You all sat around Ruthie's kitchen table with her husband, Jim, laughing and swapping stories. She had a surprising amount of dirt on you, and she certainly didn't mind sharing it one bit.

Dean looked around and got up from his chair. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun, but I've been wanting to check out your bar, Ruthie. Sam, you in?" He put his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn and lock onto his flashing green eyes. "How about you, sweetheart? Want to come with us?" he asked.

You briefly lost the ability to form a coherent thought, but quickly recovered. "N-nah, I think I'll stay here and catch up with Ruthie. We haven't seen each other in so long, I don't want to miss an opportunity," you finally got out.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, have fun you two. Don't wait up," he said waggling his eyebrows. Once he drove off in the Impala, you let out a frustrated groan.

"What was that all about?" she demanded. "Since when does he call you 'sweetheart' and make googly eyes at you? Are you two a 'thing' now?" she asked.

"There were no googly eyes, Ruthie. And no, we're not a 'thing' now, nor will we probably ever be one. It's just harmless flirting," you muttered.

"But, you wish he meant it, don't you?" she asked gently. You could only nod, as your voice would have betrayed the tears on your face.

"Then you have to tell him, honey. Otherwise, he'll never know and he'll keep doing the bar chick thing, slowly taking a piece of your heart each time," Ruthie finished.

"Ruthie, I've seen the type of woman he seems to prefer, and it's not me. Sure, it feels amazing when he calls me 'sweetheart' or when he touches my hand or my shoulder. But I know he doesn't mean anything by it. Let's face it, I'm not his type of woman. I'm good for going on hunts, doing the research and making pie. Friend, remember? Not the romance category," you choked on the last sentence.

"Do you really believe that?" Ruthie asked.

You nodded. "Yes, Ruthie, I do. However, I also believe that what we do is so important. So much, in fact, that I'm willing to continue pushing all of those feelings aside to focus on the mission. What if I told him how I feel and he didn't feel the same? I don't know how long I could stay in the bunker after that, seeing him every day after ruining a perfectly good friendship."

Suddenly Ruthie jumped to her feet. "Come on," she motioned for me to follow her.

"What? Where are we going?" you asked.

"We are going to get dressed up and we are going to walk into my bar, looking so amazingly HOT and sexy. Mr. Dean Winchester won't be able to keep his eyes--or anything else, for that matter--off your body, honey." she finished with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Hey, Jim? We're going into town to check on things at the bar, do you want to drive us there?" she called. He agreed, and you went with Ruthie to put yourselves together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"That about does it, don't you think?" Ruthie said as we stepped back from the mirror.

"I think this more than does it. Sis, we look GOOOOOD," you said. Ruthie held up her hand for you to high-five her, but you missed, causing you both to start giggling.

You were wearing a new pair of slightly faded blue jeans with star-studded back pockets that you had brought with you. A white spaghetti-strap tank top and a cropped denim jacket about the same color as the jeans completed your outfit. Ruthie lent you her tan knee-high boots with a wedge heel. Your curly brown hair was fluffed out a bit more and you kept your makeup and jewelry choices simple.

Ruthie was similarly dressed, but in darker colors. Black jeans where you wore blue, a red tank top instead of white, and black boots. You looked at each other, linked arms and got into the car.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Dean were sitting in a booth, each drinking their second beer of the night. "Hey, Sam? Do you think we should call the girls and ask them to come out?" Dean asked. Just then, a well-endowed blonde walked up to their table. She slid into the booth next to Dean, and looking straight at him, she asked, "Wanna dance?"

At that exact moment, you, Ruthie and Jim walked in, looking for Sam and Dean. When you saw the blonde sitting so close to Dean and practically kissing him, you froze. Ruthie's hand was at your elbow, propelling you forward. "Steady, you can do this. Just walk over to the table and tell them we're going to play some 8-ball. And that no, they can't play," she growled.

You gathered up your courage and walked over to their table. "Evening, boys," you drawled. "Ruthie and I are going to go play some 8-ball," you explained. As they started to get up, you held up your hand. "No, no, just us girls playing. Sorry boys," you said with a wink. You and Ruthie headed for the empty pool table, your heart pounding furiously in your chest.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Dean saw you and Ruthie walk in, he couldn't believe his eyes. He'd seen you in jeans and a tank top before, but these jeans hugged your curves like none he'd ever seen you wear before. You and Ruthie were dressed so alike, but the two of you couldn't have been more different. Ruthie wore dark, where you wore light, the yin and yang that perfectly explained your longtime friendship.

The blonde became bored at Dean's lack of attention and left the table in a huff. Dean watched as you and Ruthie played your game. He saw how happy and carefree you looked as you hung out with your best friend. It had been a long time since he'd seen you that way, and it brought a smile to his face.

Dean noticed how your eyes sparkled when you smiled and he thought about how he wouldn't mind seeing more of that. He wondered what you two were talking about between shots with your heads together. He desperately wanted to know what was just said that had made you throw your head back in laughter.

For one of your shots, you were leaned over the table rather low, trying to get lined up. Your studded back pockets were pointed in Dean's direction. His mouth ran dry as thoughts of a less than pure nature ran through his mind. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, catching Sam's attention. "Dude, you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's head over there to watch the girls. I see two empty barstools, why don't you snag those while I get us another beer," Dean suggested.

By the time Sam and Dean came over, you and Ruthie were into your second drinks and fourth game of pool. You both had also ditched your jackets, having left them on the barstools now occupied by the boys. You had gathered a good-sized crowd to watch the two of you play. There was a group of college boys, a bachelorette party, and some other random people were there to cheer you on.

It was your turn, and you had a difficult choice to make. You could bank the #13 and keep playing, or shoot the #11 and have a potentially difficult next shot. Bank shots were not your strong suit, but you decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, one of the college boys was in your way and didn't look like he wanted to move. "Excuse me, I need to take this shot and you're in my way," you explained.

"Tell you what, sweetheart. You make this shot and I'll buy you a shot. Then you can sit on my lap and I'll tell you about the great night we're going to have together," he smirked.

Dean heard what the kid had said, and something in him snapped. He bolted out of his seat, but Sam held him back. "Hold on, I think she's got this," he said.

"Tell you what. How about you move and let me make this shot? That way, I don't crack my cue stick over your skull for making such a sexist comment. Does that sound all right to you?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelids.

He grumbled, "Yeah, whatever," but got off of his barstool anyway to give you a clear shot. You leaned down to line up your shot. As you drew the cue stick back, you felt a hand grab your backside. You whirled around to see him high-fiving his drinking companions. You heard snippets of comments like "seriously sweet ass" and "like to hit that".

You pointed the heavier end of your cue stick at the kid, who was still laughing with his friends. You took advantage of his distraction to swing the heavy end right into his soft belly. With an audible "Oof!" he said as he fell, his ass landing hard on the floor.

With your cue stick raised above him ready to swing it again, you glared at him. "Get up. You and your friends had better get out of here before any real trouble starts. Don't even think about coming back in here ever again, at least not until you have more respect for a lady," you finished.

His friends helped him up and they headed for the door. As he passed you, he muttered, "'Lady' my ass, more like a bitch."

That was enough for Dean. He broke free from Sam and as he passed by, you could feel the anger radiating from him. You tried to grab his arm and pull him back but you were too late.

Next thing anyone knew, there was a scuffle in the parking lot between Dean and the kid. Punches were flying left and right until Sam finally pulled Dean away. The college boy was carried off by his buddies and Ruthie yelled that they were banned from her bar for good.

You walked over to Dean to check for damage. He had a cut above his left eye, a bloody nose and his knuckles were a bit scraped up. "Come on, Dean. Let's get you back to the motel and clean you up," you sighed.

Sam drove the Impala back to the motel in silence, with you in the back seat. Sam went to their room and got the first aid kit, then you walked to your room a few doors down. "You have your own room?" Dean asked.

"I didn't want to impose on Ruthie, so we booked this before we hit the bar," you explained. "Plus, depending on how tonight went, I thought I might want my own space." Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, handed him the first aid kit and motioned for Dean to follow you to your room.

Once inside, Dean sat down on the bed and took off his outer shirt. You removed your denim jacket again and turned on the lights to better assess his injuries. His nose had stopped bleeding, so you took a washcloth and dipped it in the warm water contained in the ice bucket. "Are you okay?" Dean asked as you cleaned up the dried blood around his nose.

Being this close to Dean was enough to cause flutters in your heart. Not exactly trusting your voice at first, you nodded. "I'm fine, Dean. No harm done," you finally added.

Next, you moved on to address the injury above his left eye. "What did you mean by 'depending on how tonight went' you might want your own space?" Dean asked.

"Hmm?" you mumbled absently.

Dean reached up and stilled your hands, forcing you to gaze into his impossibly perfect green eyes. "What did you mean when you said that, about wanting your own space?" he repeated.

You stopped what you were doing to gather your thoughts, because once you answered his question, there would be no going back. "What I meant was, depending on whether or not you came back to the motel alone," you answered.

"Why would that matter to you?" Dean asked.

"Never mind. Let's get that cut above your eye stitched up," you said as you started to thread the needle.

"No, forget that for now. I want to know why that would matter to you," Dean persisted.

"And I said never mind!" you retorted. "You know what? Take this to Sam and let him sew you up. Goodnight, Dean," you replied as you held the door open.

Dean walked to the door as if to leave. Just before he would've crossed the threshold, he turned to you and said, "No. Not until we finish talking about this." you slammed the door and groaned loudly in frustration as he went to sit on the bed.

You walked over and stood in front of Dean. "You want to know why any of this matters to me? Fine, I'll tell you. All of these women you hook up with? None of them will ever know you like I do, Dean. None of them will ever love you the way that I do. It hurts me to see you with them, because I wish you were with me. I realize that to you, I'm nothing special. However, I know how you like your coffee, that you like to sing in the shower, which color of flannel is your favorite."

You knelt down between his knees, resting a hand on his left one. "I also know how to bring you back around after you've had a nightmare. And how you're so used to protecting others that maybe you feel like you have to build walls to protect yourself. I know about how scared you are that one day, everyone you love will leave you.

"But here's the thing, Dean. I will never leave you. And I will wait as long as it takes for you to bring down your walls. To let me in so I can be that source of strength for you when you need it the most."

As soon as you finished your speech, Dean leapt up from the bed and gathered you in his arms. His hands slid up to hold your face and he began to devour you with a series of hot, passionate kisses. Your lips, your cheeks, your neck, all of it was fair game for Dean. Your fingers threaded their way through his hair, paying particular attention to the ones at the base of his neck. Dean growled in appreciation, then you felt him smile against your lips.

When you finally broke apart, you were both trying to catch your breath. "That was amazing," you whispered.

"So was everything you said, sweetheart. Except one part," Dean replied.

"What? Which part?" you asked.

"The part where you said you realize that to me you're 'nothing special'," he said as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I can't think of anything that would be farther from the truth. I watched as you and Ruthie were playing pool.

"Your eyes sparkle when you smile, and when you laugh, you do so with your whole heart. Tonight, I saw a side of you that made me realize how special you are to me and to everyone around you. But most importantly, I have become very aware of how much I love you," he finished.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you, Dean. Almost thought I never would. I love you too," you replied softly.

You moved forward until your lips met again in a slow, passion-filled kiss. Your mouths moved together, yours opening slightly for Dean's tongue to slip inside. His fingers started threading through your hair, massaging as he went. Dean gently tugged on your curly locks, which tilted your head back and exposed your neck. "So beautiful...." he murmured against your skin as he dropped feather-light kisses up and down your neck.

"Stay with me tonight? Please?" you asked. Dean nodded, and while he stripped down to his boxers, you went into the bathroom to change into your pj's. He got into bed and held the covers back enough for you to slide in next to him. You turned to face him and placed your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "I love you, you know," you said softly.

"I know. I love you too, sweetheart," Dean replied. He slipped his arm around you so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.

"Goodnight, my love," you whispered.

[katefiction]

Revolution, Part 4

by katefiction (Maria) / 2014

Driving on the deserted out skirts of Redfern had become our new favourite pastime. Back home, we loved to go for walks together. William would often take George on an early morning walk while Kensington Palace gardens were still closed to the public, and occasionally I would join them. It was the only sense of liberty we had back in London – a liberty that was confined to the gates of the palace grounds.

Iowa couldn’t be more different. The sun sizzled on our skin and stabbed into our eyes, and while we loved this weather, we couldn’t walk for long without George needing shade and water. So going for drives became our thing. You only had to drive ten minutes from Redfern to feel like you’d escaped for the day.

On that January day, we had needed somewhere to escape to. The news a few weeks earlier that the queen may be returning to the UK had tested us. There was the initial relief that she was safe and well, and the gladness that the Republic was losing their hold. Then came the worry that a renunciation of the Revolution would put us in danger from the people that wanted William out of the country so badly. Lastly came the realisation that we had to make a decision about what we wanted to do.

William had continued to work hard on the farm, but there were times when he became distracted and injured himself or wasted the milk by dropping it all over the ground after he’d spent an hour milking the cows. On that day, he’d accidently tripped over a bucket and kicked it so hard in frustration that it almost smashed Bette’s window. It was her who ordered him to ‘take a long break’.

So there we were, driving with our windows down, George in his new car seat at the back jabbering away to Ronald who was tucked safely under his arm.

William parked up at Rock Creek, a nature park formed of high and varied rocks and trees, and centred by a large pool of water. Bette had suggested it to us as somewhere relaxing to visit, it was the kind of place that you could hear the insects chirping in the grass.

We found ourselves a nice deserted spot right by the creek, and sat down on a large set of rocks. William picked up some small pebbles on the ground.

‘Here George, let’s try and skim them’ he threw a pebble in and it managed a small skim before it slid into the water.

He handed George one who threw it into the water with a plop. He laughed hysterically at the water splashing up from the surface and William gave him another one. He repeated the manoeuvre and we laughed with him as we watched his joy at throwing the stones in.

William took him closer to the water, crouching down to hold his body close to him.

‘We’re running out of pebbles here!’ he said as I watched from my seat. George flung his free arm about, impatient for another stone, his other holding on to Ronald.

‘Hold on, hold on’ William said, scrambling around to find one big enough.

But it was too late, because George had lost his sense of co-ordination and in his eagerness to throw another pebble in, hurled Ronald into the water instead.

The three of us paused in silence for a moment, before the piercing sound of George’s cry broke into it. I leapt up and rushed over to him.

‘It’s ok baby, it’s ok’ I said, stoking his face, while Will cuddled him close.

Ronald was bobbing up and down in the water and drifting further from us. William jumped into action and found a stick from the side of the creek. He knelt onto the bank and reached as far as he could, but to no avail.

George’s face was red from the wailing for Ronald, a look of despair covering it.

William looked over to him, ‘right’ he said, rolling up his jeans.

‘You’re not?…’ I said.

‘I am’ he replied, taking off his boots and socks. He stepped into the murky water with determination.

‘Fu-libberty jibbet!’ he shouted, ‘this is colder than it looks’

I giggled, and William’s reaction stopped George from crying too. ‘Be careful, you don’t know how deep it is’

He continued to walk and I threw him the long stick to use so he could feel how deep the water was getting. By the time he’d reached Ronald, he was chest deep in the green water.

‘Victory!’ he shouted, holding Ronald up like a trophy at George.

I held George’s arms up and waved them around as if we were greeting him from years away at war.

William emerged from the bank with the water dragging down his clothes. A flutter jumped in my stomach at the sight of him dripping wet, heroically carrying Ronald.

George lifted up his arms to try and grab him, ‘Ro Ro Ro Ro’

‘He’s dirty pumpkin, we’ll give him a good wash when we get home ok?’ I said, stroking his hair.

But George was just like his father, stubborn to the end, ‘Ro Ro Ro’ he screamed.

William lifted him off the ground and spun him around, throwing Ronald to me as he did so. He was an expert at distracting George. He pointed out the trees and the bugs and made them sound like the most exciting thing he’d ever seen. When George wriggled, he took off his shoes and they paddled together in the shallow water.

George jumped up and down in the water, delighted by the trickles between his toes.

‘Come on mummy’ William beckoned.

I took my shoes off and joined them, ‘well done’ I said and kissed William on the lips, careful not to let him get my clothes wet too.

He smiled coyly at me and I blushed.

‘Lupo would love this’ I said looking up at the canopy of trees that covered us.

‘He would’ William said with a slight sadness. ‘You miss him, don’t you?’

I nodded, ‘like crazy’.

‘And everything else?’ William probed as he helped George make a little moat in the mud.

‘I miss my family, of course, and our home…’ I stopped, realising that he was trying to make our decision easy. ‘What are we gonna do Will?’

He paused, ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Don’t put this on me, please’ I begged.

‘I’m not, I just…’ he sighed, ‘all I care about is making the two of you happy, I don’t want you to regret anything’

‘We have to make this decision together’ I said.

‘I know, but I still need to know your opinion’ he smirked.

‘I miss home’ I began. ‘But I don’t know how I would feel about going back now’

I clenched my hands together, thinking about how our carefree life would be over if we went back.

‘So you’d like to stay?’ he asked.

‘Maybe’ I said non-committedly. ‘You like it here too though?’

He looked up at me, ‘of course, it’s everything we ever wanted. You know, six months ago, I didn’t think I’d need to ask you if you wanted to go home’ he laughed.

‘You can be quite persuasive when you want to be’ I said, kicking some water in his direction before changing tact. ‘What if your grandmother needs you to come home? And your father?’

William exhaled, ‘Maybe I’ll have to tell them that I can’t’

I watched him and George play together, and wondered if he meant it. William had always wanted this freedom and now that he had it, it was everything he expected. Was it really going to be so easy to let his past go?

*

We drove back that afternoon with a renewed sense of energy. William’s mood had improved and we had accepted the fact that there was nothing we could do until something happened back in London.

We cruised back into Redfern at a leisurely pace. Halfway home, I noticed his brow crease and his eyes dart back and forth from the rear view mirror.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘There’s a car behind us…don’t turn around’ he said as I turned my head. ‘It’s been following us all the way from the creek’

I stretched to look through the mirror to see a dark blue saloon car behind us. ‘Are you sure you’re not being paranoid? This is the main road back into town’

‘Let’s see what happens if I turn off the main road’ he said, keeping one eye on the mirror.

At the next turning we found, William drove into it without indicating or slowing down as he usually would. A few moments later, we saw the car turn after us.

‘Shit’ he whispered.

‘Can we just go back to the farm, it’s probably nothing’ I said anxiously.

William slowed when we got to a lay by and turned the car around to get back onto the main road. This time the saloon didn’t follow, but carried on down the small lane.

‘See I told you’ I said with mock confidence.

William, however, didn’t say another word until we got home.

*

The dark drew in quickly that evening, the worry over the car hung over us like a cloud. William was quiet, but affectionate, occasionally giving my waist a squeeze as he brushed past me in Bette’s kitchen. We were over there for dinner, which had become a regular occurrence.  William and I would cook for all of us while Bette entertained George.

The two of them went outside to pick some tomatoes for the dinner, leaving William and I alone.

‘Talk to me, what’s going through your head?’ I said, once Bette and George were outside.

William sighed, ‘I don’t know what to think’

‘Yes you do – you just don’t want to tell me’ I said bluntly, as I flipped a steak at the stove.

He looked up, pausing from chopping up the vegetables to see how annoyed my expression was.

‘You’re acting like you did the night you left. You don’t have to hide things from me’ I continued.

‘I’m not…’ he mumbled.

I returned his gaze, giving him a look that said I wasn’t prepared to be kept in the dark again.

‘Why now?’ he said, giving in. ‘Why are we being followed now?’

‘What do you mean?’ I said, relieved that he was letting me in.

He placed the knife down and leant against the counter. ‘We’ve been here for months, and it’s been weeks since the news about Granny going back to London. Something serious must be happening back home for them to be watching us’

I ran my fingers over the back of his neck to relax him, ‘we don’t know if that car was even following us Will’

‘You really think that was a coincidence?’ he asked.

I thought for a second before I spoke, ‘I think that if we want any kind of life here, we can’t be paranoid all the time, what kind of life is that going to be for George?’

He looked at me guiltily and then said, ‘I won’t put him in danger’

I put down the steak flipper and put my arms around his waist, ‘we’ll try and get the radio on tonight, see what’s happening’ I said more calmly than I felt.

He nodded and kissed the top of my head.

The door flung open and Bette and George tottered in, George carrying a basket of tomatoes, ‘it’s getting windy out there!’ Bette remarked.

William and I got back to the food, not wanting to waste any time so we could listen the radio as soon as possible.

‘What’s up with you two?’ Bette said, pushing wisps of hair from her face that had been flustered by the wind.

‘Just hungry!’ William said cheerily. ‘Thant’s all!’

After dinner, we told Bette that we would be happy to do the washing up. She thanked us for being ‘good kids’ and left us for an early night. As soon as she was out of ear shot, William clicked on the radio and turned it to the station we’d found a few weeks ago. We’d done this a few times since, when Bette was out of the house, but were yet to hear anything new.

After half an hour of slow dish washing, the news bulletin jingle began, and our ears pricked up.

‘News from Britain tonight, the Conservative and Labour Parties have formed an emergency coalition government this morning. After weeks of dissent against the Green Party, the Prime Minister stepped down, leaving his Party to flounder. Now comes news that the Queen is back in the country. Unconfirmed sources say she’s been holding emergency meetings at Windsor Castle to determine what action to take amid the rapid decline of the Green Party and the Republic. The Republic are still in control of Buckingham Palace, but large protests have been taking place in the last two days from members of the public. We spoke to a political reporter at the scene earlier’

Over the crackle of the radio, an English voice began to speak with the jeers of what sounded like hundreds of people in the background.

‘We’re here outside Buckingham Palace, where people continue to stream into this landmark to protest against the Republic. As you can hear, the atmosphere is tense to say the least. The Green Party have insisted that the Republic have had no influence on their politics, yet the country has aimed its anger towards the group who spearheaded the Revolution last summer. While never officially dissolved by law, there is widespread support for the return of the Monarchy; however some still insist that they have no place in 21st Century Britain’

The voice switched back to the Iowan radio DJ, ‘and now for a weather warning, torrential rain and winds…’

William switched the radio off with a heavy click. We looked at each other, and I imagined my expression was the same as his. The look that said the storm was rolling in.

*

Once I had bathed George, William took over and sat with him on the couch as he drank his bottle of milk. I leant against our bedroom door frame and observed him entertaining George with his exaggerated hand movements and voices.

‘ “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,” cried out the ogre; “I smell him, wife, I smell him” ’ he said, growling at George, then changed his voice to a high pitched cackle.  ‘ “Do you, my dearie?” says the ogre’s wife. “Then if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he’s sure to have got into the oven.” ‘

George chuckled and so did I.

‘Right that’s quite enough excitement for one night Georgie’. He closed the book that was on his lap, scooped him up over his shoulder and carried him into the bedroom. ‘We’ll see what happens to Jack tomorrow’

‘You make quite the scary giant’ I said when he’d joined me on the couch a few minutes later. I stroked my hands over his back and leant against his shoulder. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine, just tired’ he said, slipping his hand between my knees. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow’

‘The last time you said that, you weren’t there in the morning’ I teased, poking him in the ribs.

‘I’m not gonna leave you again’ he said sternly.

There were times I had to push William to open up and talk to me because I knew he needed to. Then there were times that I needed to give him time to untangle his own thoughts before he could relay them to me. This was one of the times where words weren’t appropriate.

I curled closer to him and kissed along his jawline and felt his body relax immediately. He leant back in the seat and closed his eyes as I moved my hand under his shirt and stroked his torso which had become defined and hard since he’d been working on the farm. I swiftly positioned myself on his lap, and although his eyes were still shut, he knew my body well enough to hitch up my skirt and tug down my underwear in one seamless movement.

We were only kissing for a few minutes before I unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zip to release him. This wasn’t a time for whispering sweet nothings; it was a time to give him the release he needed. As I slid on top of him he clutched my behind and dug his face deep into my neck, letting out low, heavy murmurs of pleasure.  

William held onto my hips as I grinded into him, willing him to forget his worries for just a moment. And forget them he did because his final murmur became so loud that when he was ready, I pushed his head into my chest to soften the noise.

He tilted his head back when it was over, and it was only after he’d regained his senses that he pulled me close and whispered a grateful ‘thank you’ into my hair.

*

Encouraged by the radio report, we decided that the next day, we would try and find the crow man again to use his mobile phone. I hadn’t told William out loud that what we’d heard on the radio had bought me round to his way of thinking. I now agreed that the blue saloon probably was following us, but couldn’t admit it to him. I desperately wanted to be right about him being paranoid so had dug my heels in and insisted it was a coincidence. But deep down, I knew there was more to it, and I knew the reason I had denied it was because I didn’t want anything to ruin the life we’d created for ourselves.

Late afternoon on the Monday, I walked into town alone to try and find him. It was another hot, cloudless day, so William had stayed at home with George. Crow man was a creature of habit and we often saw him digging around in the old antique shop.

As I rounded the corner of the main street, my hair in a messy pony tail and dressed in a second hand t-shirt and denim shorts, I savoured the moment. I had always thought of America as the king of the media-driven world; a commercialised and plastic place that would never be somewhere I’d want to live. Four years before, we had visited Los Angeles and saw for ourselves the frenzy that we caused.

Now everything had changed. America had provided us with the safe haven we needed and we’d grown to love it as home. We loved the way we could walk in public looking a mess and no one cared. We loved that George could run free and grow up with a life without cameras in his face. Most of all, we loved being Bill, Libby and Alexander, an anonymous generic family, just like everyone else.

I turned around to enjoy the rustic main street of Redfern, wondering if we’d be able to stay here much longer. As I looked into the rapidly setting sun, a shift of darkness caught my attention next to the butchers. In a second it was gone, but as I turned around once more, I saw it again.

In the doorway of the butchers stood a tall figure, dressed all in black. I turned forward again, pretending I hadn’t seen him. No one in Redfern would wear dark trousers, heavy boots and a thick jacket. My heart rate quickened as I passed Mary’s and neared the antique shop. I peered through the glass of the shop, hoping to see the old crow, but all I saw were full shelves of antiques.

I suddenly became aware of being the only person on the street. I stayed still at the window for a moment longer and squinted. In the reflection of the glass, I could see the man. He’d followed me down the street and was now on the other side of the road, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking into the thrift store. Now I had a better look of him, I noticed his short, almost shaved blond buzz cut and stony features.

The sweat on my hands started to seep out and I wiped them hastily on my shorts. Moving cautiously, I turned back the way I’d come, willing myself not to run. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him sauntering behind me.

After a few steps, I looked up, and like a guardian angel, saw the sign for Mary’s Inn above my head. Without hesitation, I slipped through the wooden door and slammed it shut behind me. I leant against it, my chest heaving.

‘Don’t you look spooked?’ a voice said from the stairs.

‘Mary, hi’ I said breathily.

She appeared from the staircase, with an expression of pleasure at seeing me, which quickly turned to concern.

‘You ok Libby?’ she said.

I nodded and gulped down my panic. ‘Yeah, I just, there’s just…’

I couldn’t tell her, of course I couldn’t. What would I say? There’s a strange man following me, call the police? I turned to look through the window that was so dirty; it barely let in any light. I couldn’t see the man.

‘Are you hiding from someone?’ Mary said, pressing me.

‘No’ I replied too quickly. I realised I needed a reason as to why I was in here. ‘Um, I was wondering if you knew how I could find someone’

‘Sure’, concern was still in her voice.

I licked my lips which felt completely dry and pulled myself away from the door. ‘I don’t know his name; he likes to collect things though’

Mary looked puzzled and I suddenly felt frustrated. Having access to the phone was more important now than ever.

‘He’s short and hasn’t got many teeth’ I said, waving my hands around ‘…he likes shiny things and is always in the antiques shop’. I cursed myself for never asking him his name.

‘Ohhhh’ Mary said and I breathed a sigh of relief, ‘Jim? Yeh he lives a couple rows behind us. You’ll know his place, it’s the one with all the crap in the front yard’

I thanked her and made to leave.

‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ she said before I could.

‘Yep’ I said chirpily as I approached the door, ‘I’ll see you soon ok?’

Her voice was anxious as the word escaped her lips, ‘Kate?’

I froze on the spot.

She knew.

My mouth dried up again as my blood ran cold. ‘How did you…?’ I said, turning to face her.

‘This may be a small town, but you guys are pretty well known’ she said, offering a smile. ‘Plus that rock on your hand didn’t help’

I looked down at my left hand, which just had my wedding and eternity ring on it. I’d taken my engagement ring off after William had suggested that it was a giveaway of who we were. 

‘You’ve known all along?’ I whispered.

Mary shrugged, ‘yeah’

I backed away, feeling the panic slowly rising. Mary reached out, seeing that I desperately wanted to leave.

‘You don’t have to worry’ she said, her face soft with kindness, ‘I haven’t told anyone, I swear!’

I shook my head, my instincts failing me. I didn’t know whether to believe a word she was saying. What if she was holding me in here while the man waited for me outside? What if they took me the way they had taken William?

I suddenly felt the gravity of what had happened to him on my shoulders. How could I have been so cold and uncaring when we first found him? If he felt even half the terror that I felt now, I had no right to have punished him the way I did.

‘Please just let me go’ I said shakily.

She looked dumbfounded for a moment, ‘of course you can go’

‘Will he be waiting for me outside?’ my voice was more confident now.

‘What? You mean that guy that’s outside? I thought they were your bodyguards Kate? They’ve been here for weeks now’

They. That meant there were more of them lurking in the shadows.

‘It doesn’t matter’ I said suddenly.

Mary’s expression turned to one of pure bewilderment; the sort of confusion that was hard to fake. I turned again to leave.

‘Wait! Is everything ok? I saw on the news what’s been happening in London. Can I do something to help you guys?’

I considered for a second that I could ask to use her phone, rather than give every last thing we owned to the crow man. But it was too much of a risk. William and I had only used the crow man’s phone, thinking it was safe, but at that moment, nothing seemed secure anymore. Should we have used a different phone every time?

‘No…no thank you’

‘Wait – here’. Mary grabbed a pen from the bar and scribbled something down on a newspaper that was lying there. She tore the scrap off and handed it to me. ‘I know you don’t trust me, I can see it in your eyes, but if you need anything, this is my number’

I took the torn piece of paper and pushed it into my back pocket. Despite my reservations, I couldn’t help but thank her again.

She nodded and said ‘Sweetie, if I was gonna call the local paper about you, I would’ve done it by now. Good luck’.

It was her way of saying good bye.  

I left Mary’s just as the sun had begun to set. Looking furtively left and right, I was relieved yet anxious not to see the man anywhere. I wanted to get home before it got dark, so power walked the short distance to Jim’s house, listening out for any noise behind me.

Mary was right about how easy it would be to find his home. The small square patch of grass in front of the house was covered in rusting garden furniture, Greek style statues and other little ornaments. I weaved through it all and gave the chipping door a quick rap.

It opened a few inches and I saw the crow man’s nose come into view.

‘Hi Jim! Just me!’ I tried to sound normal, using his name for the first time in six months.

‘Oh hey there’, he said widening the door. The hallway behind him was just as I’d imagined; cluttered floor to ceiling with piles of what could either be junk or antiques.

I cut to the chase, ‘I was hoping to use the phone again’

‘No problem ma’am’ he limped off and returned again with it in his hand.

I pulled out a large wad of dollars from my pocket. He eyed the money and scrunched up his nose. For such an inoffensive looking man, he drove a hard bargain. I noticed his eyes were fixed on my left hand; I didn’t need to read his mind.

‘Pretty ring’ he crowed, and I thanked the heavens that I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring. I looked down at the eternity ring William had given me. A simple band that was circled with diamonds. I was astonished when William presented me with it, and chided him for spoiling me. He, in return, grinned widely because he knew how touched I was.

I pushed my sentimentality away, ‘if you want this, then I think I should be able to keep the phone’

He screwed up his nose again.

‘You know it’s fair’ I said, the fire retuning to my belly.

‘Oh alright’ he said, displeased, and handed me the phone. I slipped off the ring, clutching it in my fist for a moment before dropping it into his palm.

*

My journey back to the farm was taken at a run once I got onto Bette’s land. The wind had started to blow, sending the dust into my eyes. Above me, dark clouds loomed.

I burst through the door of the outhouse, out of breath and sweating head to toe.

William was playing with George on the floor, chasing after him on his hands and knees. ‘There you are! What took you so long?’

He took a proper look at me, and got off the floor, his face grave, ‘what’s happened?’

I relayed the whole story from start to finish and watched as he squeezed the back of the couch to control his anger, or maybe it was fear.

‘We need to get out of here, first thing tomorrow’, he said, and I could see the cogs turning in his mind.

‘What if they come for us tonight?’ I said, panicked.

‘They know you’ve seen them; they’ll be expecting us to leave straight away. Call your parents, and tell them we’re moving on’

George began pulling at my leg and I picked him up and pressed my lips against his head before taking out the phone and switching it on.

The battery sign flashed aggressively at me. It was on its very last legs. ‘I think there’s only enough battery left for one call’

‘So?’ he said, pacing the room.

‘So, don’t you want to call your family too?’

He walked up to me and cupped his hands around my face, ‘it’s ok baby, just call them’

I pressed down the off switch, ‘I’ll do it later tonight’.

As much as I wanted to, I had to give William the option of contacting his family instead. They were, after all, the ones in danger. My mother had re-assured us that she’d passed on all of our messages to Harry, but William hadn’t spoken to a single member of his family since we got here. He’d always put my needs before his.

‘Will’ I said nervously. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

His brow furrowed. ‘I thought we’d decided not to go back, have you changed your mind?’ I couldn’t tell whether it was curiosity or hope in his voice that I heard.

‘No’ I said honestly, shifting George to my other hip. ‘But this needs to be a joint decision. I know you want to make me happy, but if you want to go home…’

‘You love it here. We love it here’ he said, touching Geroge’s arm. ‘And wherever we go next, we’ll love too – once we’re settled’

‘Yes but your family, they need you -‘

‘Shh’, he placed his fingertips over my mouth to reassure me, but I could saw a flicker of pain pass over his eyes. ‘They’ll be ok, we’ll go back one day – to visit – this is our opportunity, we’d be stupid not to take it’

I nodded. I’d only thought briefly about where we’d go and what our lives would turn into next. There were a million questions to consider. How would we make money when we left the farm? How would George get into a school? What would happen if we ever needed medical help? It’s not like we were there legally.

But these weren’t the questions that were bothering me; those would be sorted out eventually. Deep down, all William wanted was freedom for the three of us. Neither of us had considered it would come at such a high cost. The battle in my mind swarmed around my head. William was willing to give up his family and his duty for us, yet if it wasn’t for George and me, I knew he’d be on the next plane home.

We ate dinner in silence as the wind and incoming rain lashed against the windows. At intervals, both of us snapped our heads around when the gusts created particularly loud bangs against the house. It would have been funny in any other situation; the way we looked up in unison like meerkats every few minutes. Dread filled our little home, but this time, mercifully, William had chosen not to hide it from me.

Later that night he blustered around the house collecting everything we might need on the road the next day. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping, so told him to leave the packing to me.

‘We need food for the bus journey’ he said frantically.

We didn’t know where we’d be going, but had decided we’d take the first bus out of town, which left at six. We couldn’t steal the pick-up truck.

‘I’m gonna go into Bette’s pantry and take some food’ William said. It was too late to go out and buy supplies and it would be too early to buy some the next day.

I agreed that it was the best idea. Bette had been so good to us, and stealing from her wasn’t something we wanted to do. But it was the only option we had. William waited until around ten when he knew Bette would be asleep before leaving, the wind slamming the door shut behind him.

George slept soundly in his cot despite the noise while I packed the rest of our things. I marvelled that while William had arrived here with nothing, and George and I with just three bags, we’d somehow managed to amass piles of belongings.

There were clothes strewn over our bed, and toys and books all over the floor. I knew we couldn’t take it all, so carefully chose George’s favourite things and placed them into the bags. I picked up Ronald from the cot and breathed in his freshly washed scent. I reminded myself not to forget him tomorrow.

‘What’s going on?’ a voice said behind me.

My heart almost jumped into my throat and I whipped around.

‘God, Bette you scared me’ I said, touching my hand to my heart.

Bette was standing in her dressing gown, her already wispy hair standing up, and her face tired.

‘I heard a noise downstairs and when I looked out the window, I noticed your light still on’ she looked over at the mess in our bedroom, and at the bags on the floor. ‘Where you going?’

My mind buzzed. We weren’t going to tell her we were leaving. It would be safer for her that way. ‘We’re just going away for a few days’ I said, averting my eyes from hers.

‘Bill didn’t say anything about wanting time off’ her brow creased.

‘I know it’s a bit sudden, but I’ll get him to drop in to explain tomorrow’ I walked into the living room, collecting a few more bits along the way.

It was wrong to lie to her; William wouldn’t do anything of the sort.  Bette followed behind me, I still couldn’t look at her.

‘We’ll be back before you know it’

‘Sure you will’

A force slammed into my back, knocking me forwards. A wash of blurs flooded my eyes and my legs buckled, sending me down before I had time to think. In that millisecond, my heart sped up, and my body became rigid with shock. The last thing I heard was the crack of my head hitting the floor.

*

I opened my eyes a fraction, so they were just slits. Black and red dots danced in front of them. It was a moment before I registered the rest of my body, my legs felt like jelly, yet my back was tight, the muscles pulling in every direction. My face was squashed against the cold floor and as my senses returned, I smelt something metallic near to me. Blood.

My arms were outstretched and I wiggled a finger. It hurt, in fact my whole body hurt. That moment of realisation that I was alive and still moving was replaced in an instant.

‘George?’ I said, yet it came out as a whisper.

‘George?’ I repeated. I pushed myself up, unsticking myself from the floor. I looked around the room, letting it come back into focus before I tried to stand up.

When the room stood still, I grabbed onto the back of the couch and hurled myself to my feet. It was too quick and the blood rushed to my head. I placed a hand on my temple, and when I took it away, my fingers had turned bright red.

‘Will?’ I croaked. ‘George?’

I stumbled into the bedroom. Everything was as I’d left it. Except when I looked over to the cot, just like I’d feared and felt the moment I’d woken up; it was empty.

‘No. No no no’ I cried, stumbling towards the front door. The moment I opened the door, the wind and rain smacked into my face, threatening to force me back inside.

I ploughed ahead, squinting to find any sign of life. There was nothing around me, the only sounds were the creaks trees as the wind attacked them. I looked over to Bette’s house and squinted again through the rain. A faint glow was coming from the kitchen.

I moved as fast as I could with the elements working against me and my legs wobbling. ‘Will!’ I screamed.

I used the full weight of my body when I reached the back door and it whipped open. Everything looked so normal; the chipped worktops, the old pots and pans hung up against the wall. It seemed ridiculous that it could stay the same when my life was hurtling around me like a tornado. 

There was a banging coming from somewhere. At first I thought it was just the house, yet it was frantic and determined. I looked to the corner of the small kitchen, where the door to the pantry was firmly shut and bolted.

I rushed over without thinking and pressed my hands against the door, ‘Will?’

His voice came, fast as lightning ‘Kate!’

My fingers shook over the bolt and the door swung open from the inside. William came flying out, crashing into me.

‘Are you ok, are you ok?’ he said, holding my head to him. Relief flooded me and I gripped his shirt. He pulled away suddenly and wiped the blood off my temple. ‘What happened?’

The words came out muddled and confused, ‘She taken him…she hit me…Bette’

William’s face drained of colour, ‘where is she?’

‘I don’t know Will, she just, I’m so sorry…she’s taken him’ my face started to burn.

‘She can’t have got far’ he pulled my hand like a ragdoll and we rushed back outside.

I don’t know how long I was out for, but William’s reaction made me think it can’t have been that long. ‘How long were you in there?’ I shouted over the wind.

‘She locked me in fifteen minutes or so ago’ he shouted back.

Had it only been fifteen minutes? Every second without George seemed like a lifetime. William looked into the distance, towards the entrance of the farm.

‘Where is he Will?!’ I was a stupid thing to say, but I could think of nothing else.

‘I can’t see any cars up there’ he said. ‘If they’ve taken George, they’ll want me too’

We turned the corner to where I’d first found him next to his pick-up truck. Both his car and Bette’s small Chevy were still there.

Amongst the battering noises against the windows, a tiny sound drummed my ears.

‘Did you hear that?’ I said to Will.

‘What?’ he said, pushing the rain off his face.

I walked past the cars quickly, ‘the horse’

William followed a step behind me, ‘what?’

‘The horse Will!’ I shouted impatiently. ‘He sleeps during the night’

William’s face filled with comprehension. We started to run towards the stable, our ears straining to hear the loud whine of the horse again. The door was ajar and I saw William’s chest heave with hope. We pushed it open.

There, at the back of the room stood Bette, George wrapped in a blanket in her arms. They were feeding the horse hay like it was the most normal thing in the world. There was just a single wall light in the room, but I could tell that though sleepy, George was unharmed. 

‘Bette’ I said.

She turned around nonchalantly, casting her gaze over the two of us. I took a step forward. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you’ she said in a voice that was unfamiliar.

‘Just give him to us’ William snarled.

‘I don’t think so’ she glanced behind our heads.

William and I looked at each other, evidently thinking the same thing. She was waiting for someone to arrive.

‘There’s no need for you to keep him, just give him to us, you’re scaring him’ I pleaded.

George was sitting calmly on her hip. He’d gotten so used to her. She’d taken care of him and played with him. Of course he wasn’t scared. She laughed dryly.

William’s eyes were narrowing and I knew he wanted to pounce on her.

‘Don’t try anything’ she said tightening her grip.

‘You wouldn’t hurt him’ William said.

‘And how do you know that?’ she smiled.

I wanted to hurt her just as much as William did but we had to try a different tact. ‘Who are you?’

Bette laughed again, ‘I’m exactly who you think I am’ she said, her voice drawling. ‘I own this farm’

‘Who are you working for’ William tried I sound as calm as me but failed.

‘Who do you think?’ she said, playing with George’s toes. ‘You think you just turn up here and some dumb old lady takes you on without asking a single question?’

William turned away, angry at his own naivety. 

‘So what now?’ I asked. ‘You’re just gonna hold us here until whoever gets here?’

‘I’ll do what I was paid to do’ she looked at me with disgust.

‘We trusted you’ 

‘Then you’re idiots. You really thought you’d be left here to play happy families? We’ve been watching you, making sure you didn’t do anything stupid. But you had to go and ruin it. They would’ve left you alone if you didn’t try to run’

William was fuming now, his body heaving. I held onto his arm. 

But it was too late. He lunged forwards and Bette backed away, turning to the wall. 

George cried at the sudden movement and my heart tore.

‘Give him to me’ William roared.

Bette spun back around, her hand grasping a metal bar that she’d picked up. I realised that’s what she’d hit me with. She must’ve had it ready in a corner when she came to the house.

She swung at William but he stepped aside, sending her of balance. The bar hit the side of the stable instead, and as it did William pounced to her other arm, tearing George from her grasp.

He ran over to me and almost threw George into my arms. I wrapped my arms around him and rocked him.

Bette’s eyes were frantic. I couldn’t tell if it was her anger or fear of what would happen now she’d lost George. In a second, she walked calmly over to William and hit him straight on the back.

He fell to his knees, groaning in pain.

‘Stop it!’ I screamed.

‘Give me the baby’ she said in her old tone.

My protective instinct kicked in as William struggled to his feet. All this time, she’d been plotting and planning. If we had stepped out of line, tried to leave, she would’ve taken action against us. The cooking lessons, telling us to take a break; it was all a way to make us not want to leave this place.

Fire gripped my stomach, the anger of our precious six months turning out to be nothing but another cage.

I handed George to William once he’d regained his composure.

‘Kate what are you doing?’ he said, eyes wide.

I strode towards her and grabbed the bar. She tugged, but I placed both hands around it and pulled it from her grasp.

‘Don’t come near them’ I said in a low voice.

‘It won’t be me you need to worry about in a minute’ she said, with a slight shake to her voice.

She made a try for the bar again. I don’t know what made me do it. Rage? Animal instinct? But at that moment, without my brain seemingly connected to my body, I bought my free arm from my side and slapped her hard on the face.

She stumbled backwards, but before I could register her shock, William was pulling me out of the barn.

‘Let’s go!’ he was saying.

He pulled me outside and slammed the barn door shut, pulling down the latch.

‘They’ll find her eventually’ he said to me, like I’d care if they did. ‘We’ve got to go, I can’t see any one at the entrance, I’ll get the bags, you call home, we don’t know when we’ll get signal again’

We ran back to the outhouse and scooped up everything in sight, including the car keys. We had no reservations about taking the pick-up truck now.

William travelled back and forth to the car as I dressed George in something warmer. As he returned from his third trip, a light from stopped him in his tracks.

I looked up at the same time he did. Out at the entrance to the farm – the only exit – were a line of headlights.

‘We’re too late’ I breathed.

William paused.

I held his arm, my heart thudding, ‘can’t we call the police or something?’

He looked at me with apology in his eyes. ‘They won’t get here in time and I’m betting they’ve been paid off too’

I looked at the ground, desperately trying to think of someone that would help us.

He held me close, suddenly resigned , ‘they won’t hurt us Kate…they just want us out of the way. They’ll probably just take us somewhere remote again like they did to me’

The lights were still there but they weren’t moving any closer. ‘And that’s what you want?’

‘I know it’s not ideal, but if it keeps us safe’, he touched his fingers to the cut on my head.

‘We won’t be safe and happy at home now? I mean we were never really unhappy were we?’ I asked.

‘We agreed on this, it will make us happy eventually. Now call home, tell them what’s happening’. He kissed me and left to take more bags to the car.

He didn’t answer my question, at least he thought he hadn’t. But he had answered it in what he hadn’t meant to say. Eventually.

I picked the mobile phone up from the table and switched it on, staring down at the battery sign flashing at me. I reached into my back pocket and took out the scrap of paper. Eventually wasn’t good enough.

*

It only took twenty minutes. We’d packed everything in the car, with William’s optimism that they’d let us drive ourselves to wherever we were going.

We were in the middle of the living room when they came, arms wrapped around each other with George sandwiched between us. We didn’t know why they were waiting. Perhaps they were waiting for Bette to get in touch or for us to try to escape before they captured us.

Either way it gave us precious time.

Lights came flooding through the windows, lighting up the farm.

‘What the…?’ William let go of me and shielded his eyes to get a better look, ‘how many more of them have they sent?’

‘It’s not them’ I said blankly, following him outside.

He hadn’t seemed to have heard me, ‘why do they need so many cars?!’

‘It’s not them!’ I said louder. He looked to me and I tilted my head, ‘I’m sorry’

His eyes widened, ‘what have you done?’

‘I’m sorry’ I said again.

He held my face in his hands, ‘Kate, what have you done? Who are they?!’ His voice was ragged and tired.

Tears welled in my eyes, ‘I had to do it, there wasn’t another way, we’d be pushed around from place to place and our freedom would be on their terms for the rest of our lives’

I knew William still didn’t understand but he didn’t try to force me, just kept his hands on my face as the weather played havoc around us.

‘It’s the press’ I said finally.

His face dropped. ‘What?’

‘They’re the only people that could help us. You said yourself the police were probably corrupt. They’re the only people who could get here in time and the only people they can’t control…’ I pointed to the cars that were waiting to take us away. The people probably sent by Steven and Alec. These were the people behind the Revolution.

The press had fueled the fire of the Revolution and now it came like a deluge to wash it out.

‘Please don’t be angry, you know leaving wouldn’t be right’

William released his grip on my face and watched as more lights appeared in the distance.

It was Mary who had put the thought into my head. She had said that if she wanted to expose us, then she would’ve called the paper by now. At the time, I recoiled at the thought of the press infiltrating our little hidden nest like snakes in the grass. But as I called her and told her to ring the local paper and do that very thing, in fact to ring the biggest and most media outlets she could find, I acknowledged they were our only hope.

‘We’ll never get the lives we hoped for now, you know that’ he said to me. It wasn’t chiding or angry, but just a confirmation of the finality that I already knew.

No matter how disappointed he was, I know as William took George from me, his little body shivering in the rain and looked at the gash on my head; a result of our fight for our ‘freedom’, that our dreams would always be just out of reach. 

I took his hand and he held it securely. We walked away from the house and onto the path that led away from the farm. The rain poured down onto us and the wind flew threw the fields, around and between us. 

We stopped in the middle of the path when we came into view of the cars, holding tightly onto each other. The lights seemed to turn and focus in our direction, piercing through the dark and shined onto us, once more.

Epilogue

‘Are you ok?’ he muttered into my ear.

‘Yeah, fine, just a bit nervous’ I replied, taking a deep breath.

‘And you GB?’ 

George shouted a response which we took to be a yes.

William placed a hand on my back and lead me outside. The cheers went up immediately, the streams of red, white and blue colouring the masses of bodies below. 

It was amazing how little, yet how much had changed. Just five months on and it was like it had never happened. The Queen stood waving gratefully. It wasn’t a gesture that said she was grateful to be alive or not exiled, but one that thanked the people for keeping the faith in her.

That was the thing about duty, just when you thought you’d escaped it, it would bind itself around you and reel you back in. 

When we’d left Iowa, William had bargained with the press immediately. Kept our secret, and we’d give them an interview and more access to our family. They agreed, and somehow those beautiful few months had remained ours to savour.

William and I waved, as did George, who was loving the attention. He should get used to this, I thought. He’ll be doing it now every June for the rest of his life.

A flutter passed through my stomach and I placed my hand on it.

William shot me a look immediately, speaking through his smile, ‘you sure you’re ok?’

I touched his arm, ‘yes, stop worrying about us’

There on that balcony we were exposed to the world again. A world so different to the one we were determined to live in. The Revolution was over, a new government formed, the monarchy returned to its place, and a new hope blossomed in the country.

A new hope, that if you read the newspapers, was symbolised by something tiny, perfect and innocent, curled up inside me.

The one, beautiful thing we’d bought back from Redfern.

This is where that story ended and a new one began.

The End

[wandas-sunshine]

A Soldier’s Spring - Chapter 1

Summary: She was one of Hydra’s secret weapons; a female winter soldier. And Bucky can’t let her go through what he did alone. everything is coming back to her, and he’s the only one that can help her become human again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Death, light angst

Word Count: 3071

A/N: First official chapter! Tag list is still open. Flashbacks are in italics

Previously on A Soldier’s Spring | Series Masterlist

A beautiful woman was sitting at a picnic table in the park, a bright smile lighting up her face. Her little girl was on the swings with an equally bright grin. She’d gotten the day off of work and decided it was the perfect opportunity for some quality time with (Y/N).

“Mommy, mommy, look!” The girl cheered, her legs swinging to pump her swing higher and  higher into the air. Her mom smiled proudly, pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear and glancing at her cell phone for a moment.

“Be careful, sweetheart. You already hurt yourself once today, we don’t want you doing it again.” She warned. The child disregarded the statement all together. She was on cloud nine. Her mother was there with her, and she was flying.

It was an accident. She hadn’t meant to swing so high, and she hadn’t meant to slip off the seat, but she had tempted fate, and she’d lost her grip on the rope holding the swing. She fell backwards and hit the ground with a wail. Her back had collided first, and her head had bounced hard enough to make her see stars. Her side ached, she couldn’t breathe.

“(Y/N)!” Her mother called, rushing to kneel at the girl’s side. Her warm hand swept across the child’s face, pushing her hair out of the way. Her hand came back wet with blood. “Stay with me, (Y/N), okay?” She cooed, doing her best to stay calm. But the child was struggling to keep her eyes open, slowly falling unconscious in her mom’s arms. Her mother whipped out her phone.

“This is agent (Y/L/N). I need medics at my location. Pronto.”

“Park…vosem’…sgoret’…semnadtsat’…slomana…gavan’…otkrytiye… otkaz…volk…razdelit’” The Hydra agent listed out several words in Russian. It was followed by a long, tense silence from all of the other agents and scientists in the room. At the middle of the room sat a chair, big and metal and with contraptions attached to it. A young girl, no older than 21, sat in it, entirely motionless. It nearly looked as if she’d fallen asleep.

“Dobroye utro, soldat.” The man spoke once again. He was tall with close cropped dark hair and even darker eyes. Truth be told, he would’ve been handsome were it not for the cold, cruel twinkle in his eyes.

The woman lifted her head slowly. There was no emotion behind her glazed over eyes. She didn’t look at anyone or anything, just stared into space as she answered.

“Ya gotov otvechat.” The words came out robotically, like she had no idea she was speaking at all.

“We have a mission for you.” The man dropped a file into her lap. She picked it up, flicking through it and finally seeming to come to life. She remained cold, but it was clear she had been waiting for activation. Now her muscles were tensed like she’d pounce any moment. It covered two people, a married couple. The man was an engineer who had turned down offers from Shield twice. The woman was a biochemist who had made several advancements in her field.

“Kill the targets. Leave no witnesses.” The Hydra agent paced back and forth in front of her until she finished with the file and passed it back. She gave a barely noticeable nod in response. Then she was guided out of the room by a team of handlers, guns pointed at her from every angle like she was a wild animal too dangerous to leave on her own. Then again, maybe she was.

She didn’t know just how long had passed, but she had been loaded into a plane with a handful of Hydra agents. She sat quietly and obediently in her seat, just looking out the window. She didn’t pay any mind to how long had passed. She wasn’t expected to. Soon enough they had landed. Her motorcycle was unloaded and she was weighed down with weapons. Rifles, knives, pistols, even grenades. She was given her orders once more.

Track down and terminate the targets. Leave no witnesses. Return to that very spot. She had 7 hours.

She set off, riding dangerously through the crowded streets, weaving through and disregarding the safety of anyone else. Most everyone stayed out of her way. Anyone with any sense would know to stay out of the way of a crazed woman on a motorcycle with an assault rifle strapped to her back. She rode to the edge of town. She could see the beach in the distance as she stopped to wait for the cover of night.

She was right out in the open, but nobody dared to bother her. She was cloaked in all black with a heavy mask obscuring the majority of her face. What wasn’t hidden by the mask was hidden behind loose hair. She had her rifle strapped to her back,one pistol in a holster on her belt, two more in her thigh holster and several throwing knives strapped to the other. She didn’t care an inch about blending in.

Once the sun was setting, the soldier started up her bike again, driving down a winding road. It was a nice, upper class neighborhood. Sprawling, artificial green lawns dotted with pristine, towering houses. She came to a stop at the end of the street. A house much more modest than the others sat at the end of a long driveway.

She took her time in examining her surroundings. The house was only three stories as opposed to the four and five level mansions she had passed on her way in. There was no pool or expensive garden. It looked less like a show of wealth and more like a real home. Its grounds were big enough that she was tucked well out of sight of the other houses in the area. She spotted five cameras from the front of the property. She slipped off her bike, pulling one of the pistols from her holster. Five flawless shots, and the cameras were out of order. 

The lights in the house were already off aside from one room on the third floor. Targets located. It was almost too easy. She confidently walked towards the security system box, lifting her gun and shooting it twice. That should suffice. Her hands tugged at one of the windows and she felt the lock snap easily under her strength. She didn’t waste any time climbing through the window. Her heavy black boots landed on the hardwood floor with deadly silence.

She scanned the room silently before heading for the stairs. The first flight was passed without so much as a creak. She’d nearly made it all the way to the third floor when she stopped in her tracks. (Y/E/C) eyes slowly lowered to where her foot was half hovering over the next step. Under the sole of her shoe was a powder-pink stuffed elephant. She couldn’t place what had urged her to do it, but the assassin bent to pick up the toy. It was strange for her, holding something so soft and fragile knowing that within moments those hands will have killed once again. So she carefully propped it up against the step and continued on.

At the very top of the stairs, she marched towards the room where the light was seeping from. She readied her gun, but was stopped once more by the sound of a giggle. One much too small, much too innocent. Then came voices.

“Another story, daddy!” A tiny voice pleaded. Then came another.

“Just one more. Then we’ll go to sleep! We promise!” The second voice sounded older, but hardly old enough. The woman’s stomach twisted and she faltered, lowering her weapon.

“(Y/N), don’t do this.” A voice cut through her head. She whipped around, her gun lifted and ready to shoot down whoever had managed to sneak up on her. But the voice was most certainly coming from inside her head. Panic was settling in her chest now, a feeling she wasn’t used to. “You can’t finish this mission, (Y/N). They’re just babies…” 

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was her mission. She had to finish this, she never failed a mission before. She had to take out her targets.

“No witnesses.” The voice of the Hydra agent broke through her thoughts. Her entire body felt weak as she stepped towards the doorway. Her targets, a couple barely in their early 30s, were nestled on a too-small bed. They had two young girls tucked against them. The oldest was maybe 9 in a blue nightgown, the other about 6 wore a pair of paw print pajamas. And worst of all, cradled in the father’s arms was an infant. 

The winter soldier scrambled back, pressing her body to the wall and desperately trying to even her breathing. What was happening? There was no record of children in the files. Did they expect her to slaughter helpless kids? Or was she supposed to leave them without parents to take care of them? Every one of her senses had been dialed up all the way to 12. The lights were blinding her, the sound of blood rushing through her forced her to clutch her head.

It was late at night. The young girl had been sound asleep in the back of the car. The radio was playing the classic rock station that her mother loved so much, and her father was quiet behind the steering wheel. It was a warm summer night, just after 11pm. The sky was a bluish shade of black with stars twinkling as clear as day. She’d fallen asleep trying to match the constellations to the ones in her book.

They had been on vacation. A nice little beach house out of the way of the crowds. Her room had looked out over the water. Her mom had taught her how to use the camera, her dad had been trying to teach her how to surf. They were meant to stay the whole week, but it was cut short when her parents were urgently called into work. But the girl didn’t mind. That was normal really. Every vacation she’d ever been on ended that way. This time they’d managed to stay a whole four days. That was enough to make her happy, really.

It was the sound of glass shattering and a scream that drew her out of her sleep. Then came another loud sound, a gunshot. Her father cried out her mother’s name and the car screeched to a halt. Now she was paying attention. Her eyes were wide and startled, and her heart pounded in her chest.

“(Y/N), get out of here.” Her dad twisted and pressed a cell phone into her hand with a panicked look on his face that made her feel like she was going to be sick. “Run. Run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you find someplace to hide. Fury will come and find you.” He wasn’t ordering her, just begging her to trust in him. Then there was another shot and he slumped as far as he could with his seatbelt still holding him. There was a bullet wound in his head.

She screamed, scrambling to get out of the car, to get away from everything she’d just seen. She clutched the phone like the lifeline it was and ran full tilt. She needed out. Her legs trembled underneath her, barely holding herself up and giving out at times, but she kept going. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d fallen, but her hands were scraped up and bleeding. Her lungs were burning. Finally, she collapsed to her knees, clenching her hands into fists so she could focus on something. She couldn’t help herself, she peeked over her shoulder. The car was barely visible now, but she watched as it went up in flames with her parents inside.

Bucky was falling in love with Wakanda. At first, he’d been terrified. Terrified to be so alone in a foreign place, terrified that they wouldn’t be able to fix his brain, terrified that he’d ruin such a beautiful paradise. But T’Challa had insisted that he was in the best hands, and the young princess was positive that she’d have him fixed in no time.

“If anyone can figure out how to help you, it is me and my people.” She had said. Bucky wasn’t so sure.

Now, things seemed to be looking up. Shuri had kept her word. They’d managed to clear the trigger words from his brain. That meant there shouldn’t be any way he’d sink back into Hydra’s robotic weapon again. The murderer he once was had been destroyed. He still felt like a threat, but the people of Wakanda trusted fully in their royals. As long as T’Challa and Shuri trusted him, the people would too. He still did what he could to avoid them. He preferred staying in his new home by himself. He’d read or cook or write. Shuri had recommended he start a journal to help with the trauma. He thought the idea was pointless, but it gave him something to do.

His nights were often long, filled with restlessness or nightmares. This one was no different. He woke up drenched in sweat. He couldn’t recall exactly what had happened in his dream, but the familiar weight of guilt in his chest was enough to tell him he’d been stuck reliving one of his crimes.

He climbed out of his bed and dressed himself. They’d provided him with plenty of options, letting him choose whether he’d prefer to dress in his usual style or blend in more with the Wakandans who had so kindly taken him in. He tended to choose the latter.

It was early morning, not quite 6am yet. The sun was still down, but he ventured out into the cool morning air anyways. Some people were already out, tending to gardens or animals. For the most part, they paid him no mind, as did he to them. He had so much on his mind that needed working out. He could usually talk it out with Steve, but they hadn’t talked in a couple days. The last he’d heard, Steve and Sam were tracking a lead on some of the last known Hydra bases.

It was no real surprise to anyone when Bucky made his way to Shuri’s lab. She had become a sort of comfort in hard times for him. He didn’t really expect her to be working at that god-forsaken hour of the morning. If anything he’d expected to try and get more sleep until she came along. But when the doors opened, he found her hunched over her latest project. Considering how tired she looked, Bucky wasn’t sure she had gotten any more sleep than he had.

“Bucky,” She greeted with a smile. She’d only just taken to calling him by his first name. “You look tired. Sit, talk.” She nodded towards the chair that she always left open for his visits. She reminded him so much of his little sister the way she bossed him and worried about him even if she refused to admit it. But he didn’t argue, just sat down and watched for a moment while she continued her work.

“I keep having these nightmares. They were getting better for a while. But now it’s like they send me back there, doing it all over again but I can’t figure out how to control myself, I can’t stop it.” He confessed with a groan. His hand rubbed over his face and pushed to card through his hair. The princess gave him a soft smile. She knew he was angry with himself for everything he’d done.

“It was not your fault.” She said after a long, heavy moment of silence between them. “You were not in control of yourself.” He simply nodded. He’d heard it a million times before, but it still wasn’t setting in.

“I remember it all. Every single mission they sent me on. It’s all stuck in my head.” He confessed. She hesitated, and he wondered if she was trying to think up a way to erase the memories. She’d expected that he’d remember, warned him that it would probably be crystal clear, but she hadn’t thought too much about how it would weigh on him. “I’m a monster. You don’t know the half of what I’ve done, kid.” He looked down at his hand in his lap. He hated thinking about all of the pain he’d caused. He’d always intended to be the good guy. That’s the entire reason he’d enlisted. People needed protecting, and instead he’d slaughtered innocent people.

“You are not that soldier anymore, Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri rested her hand on his bicep. “You are a good man who was forced to do very bad things.”

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t tear these innocent children’s worlds apart. She couldn’t kill them. They were just babies. Her hands were trembling so hard she had to put her gun away just to keep from dropping it. They hadn’t even noticed her yet, there was still time to back out.

She had to run.

The thought made her sick to her stomach. She was a soldier, an assassin. This was what she was created to do. Her handlers would be so angry when they caught her. And they would definitely catch her eventually. They had eyes and ears everywhere. There was nobody she could trust. She clutched her head and dragged her hands through her hair. What was she doing? She was given a mission, she was useless if she couldn’t even follow orders. She’d be punished for her insubordination.

She had to run.

She turned on her heel and raced silently down the stairs. She spared the stuffed elephant half a glance on her way out. At the window, she climbed back out, nudging it shut as if that would fix the fact that she’d broken in in the first place. She had to steady herself for a moment before getting on her bike and riding back the way she’d come.

She had no idea where she was. She had no idea where she was going. The only thing she knew for sure was that there was no turning back now.

Next Episode

[tristanclarington]

dessert first || kurstan

Who: Tristan Clarington & Kurt Hummel

When: May 25th, 2021

Where Tristan’s suite.

Notes: Kurt submits to Tristan. Smut. @switchhummel

Word Count: 13,087

TRISTAN: Needless to say, Tristan was looking forward to the evening he had set aside for one Kurt Hummel. They had been talking for a week or so now, and Tristan found himself quite charmed with Kurt. The boy spoke eloquently, seemed intelligent, was very put together, hyper-sexual and absolutely gorgeous to boot. Further, Tristan loved a slim, desperately submissive boy like Kurt. The other was just Tristan's type. Every instinct in Tristan told him that when Kurt arrived, he needed to get him out of his clothes and into his bed as soon as possible. However, Tristan was determined to exercise some self-control on that front. Not only did he want to drag out Kurt's desperation, but he actually genuinely wanted to get to know Kurt a little bit. So, in the spirit of that, Tristan instructed his submissive, Juliet to prepare a meal for them. It was fairly lavish if he did say so, himself. The dining room was set accordingly, with two places being set at the heads of the table. They'd be sitting rather far apart, but Tristan was confident the distance would only work to improve the experience when Kurt was finally physically in his arms, or lap, or both.

Dressed to the nines in a white, Oxford button down and khaki, form-fitting dress pants and a matching jacket, Tristan primped his hair a bit at the last minute. He stood back and took in his reflection before deciding to unbutton an extra button on his shirt. This wasn't a business meeting. It was a scene between two peers. It was one thing to exude formality, which he always aimed to do when it came to making first impressions, but he didn't want to appear stiff. With one button let go, Tristan puffed out his chest and smirked at his reflection. He'd worked out rather hard earlier that day and his arms were still pumped from the session, stretching the fabric around his biceps and pectorals. The sound of the dining room door opening jolted Tristan from his grooming. He turned to find Kurt standing there, having been escorted in by Tristan's assistant/driver. "Thank you, James. That will be all." When James left, Tristan smirked in Kurt's direction, knowing that Kurt had just edged himself before arriving. "How was the commute? Not too harrowing, I hope."(edited)

KURT: Kurt shifted on the backseat of the car in which he was now been taken to Tristan's place in town. Needless to say, it had taken him a couple of real cold showers, and a lot of self control not to jerk himself into oblivion all the two times he had edged himself, as the Dominant haad ordered him to do, and also having to text him the moment it happened. The day had dragged along longer than expected, but finally it was time for him to get ready for his meeting with Tristan, something that he was really looking forward to, not only because of the dozen ways in which he felt he was about to be fucked that night, but also because he was curious about the other man. He was not only drop dead gorgeous, but very intelligent, charismatic and put together. Someone who knew what he wanted, and knew how to get it. He really wanted to get to know him better.

Finding something in his closet that he didn't mind to get ripped off him, like Tristan had stated was almost as big a challenge as try not to cum whenever he edged himself, which he managed to get done that one last time with a remote control operated plug, put swiftly into place, because everything in his closet had been carefully picked to his fashion taste. So he decided for a neutral look. Head to toe in black. Tank and pants that fitted every curve in his body, not so slim as he had been once, but much more built. Black boots to complete, and hair styled perfectly with a naughty wavy curl on top. And by the time the bell rang, exactly at 7 o'clock, he was ready to go. He nodded at the man waiting for him there, and he walked to the car parked outside with his legs pressed together, not to have the plug moving that much for now.

Then on the way to Tristan's place he would pressed the button on the remote enough to drive him to that spot, his legs now pressed together even tighter, and he bit his lip down as he shifted from one side of his body to the other. When the time came, his cheeks now flushed pink, and a drop of sweat rolling down his neck, he turned the plug off and clunched absolutely everything inside of him to keep him down, and he had barely done that when the car door was opened. "Thank you" he said to the driver and followed him inside the door, then when the other entered what appeared to be the living room he stayed behind, standing very still, and with his legs still pressed together tight. He tilted his head a little to get a first look in person of the man who had been intriguing him for over a week or so and had to hold his breath. Fuck, he was even more gorgeous in person. And his smile almost had his knees buckling underneath him. After a couple of seconds he put himself together and smiled as he took a couple of steps forward, then slowly bent on his knees and chuckled softly. "Well... To be honest, Sir, it was a complete nightmare." He looked up at him and grinned, knowing  Tristan knew exactly what he meant by that. "Thank you so much for having me in your house tonight, Sir."

TRISTAN: Tristan stood where he was and watched Kurt, taking note of his mannerisms and, particularly, the way he automatically dropped to his knees without being told to. Interesting. Tristan knew, mainly from his experience with the boys twin brother that Kurt was a Switch. Sure, Tristan, being a Dominant was still hierarchically higher up than Kurt, but it was still a pleasant surprise to see Kurt comply so submissively without any prompting. The evening was shaping up to me an entertaining one for sure.

Tristan straightened his jacket, tugging it down tautly against his muscled form and sauntered closer to where Kurt was knelt. "Well, provided you earn it, the rest of the evening should feel like a wet dream to you, as opposed to a nightmare." Tristan said, stepping in closer so that Kurt was eye level with his crotch. "It's my pleasure, Kurt. Or it will be, anyway." He added, giving the other a little wink. "Tell me, before we sit down... When you were edging yourself today, what was going through your mind, hmm? At the moment you were about to come, what were you envisioning?" Tristan slid his hands into his pockets and swayed forward ever so slightly, brushing his crotch against Kurt's nose, just to tease him even more.

KURT: Kurt batted his eyelashes, almost to a feign innocence. "I'm counting on that, Sir" he said at first, then his whole sight line was getting fuller and fuller with the image of Tristan's crotch, until it came the point where it was right there, brushing his nose, and he could feel the man sort of swinging on his feet, just so he casually had his nose bumping on his crotch even more. He remained as calm and as gracious as you could be while having someone teasing him with their crotch literally on his face, then he purposedly moved his head up so the tip of his nose traced a ghostly line over the fabric of the man's pants and he looked right into his eyes.

"The first time I was in bed, one finger, then two, then three inside of me, reaching that small spot as a closed my eyes and pictured you, with your face buried in my ass, and your tongue buried even deeper inside of me. I moved my fingers the way I imagined you would move your tongue inside of me. I tell you, it was really hard to get back from that one-" He chuckled. "Then the second time I was in the shower. I imagined you entering the room, all naked and sweaty because you had just return from a hard workout, and you stepped into the shower, and pinned me with my chest against the tile wall, grabbed me by the wrists and put them above my head, and then you fucked me right there. Every hard thrust you gave into me was a harsh twist of my wrist on my cock, and thankfully, the cold water helped. I almost lost it, Sir, but I didn't.

He grinned and put his hand in his pocket, then pulled the remote out. "As for the third one, well... Let's just say I had to use some technology to help me out. I put a plug in my ass, and pressed the higher speed while imagining I was riding you on the back of your fancy car." He licked his lips, then looked at him innocently. "Did I do good, Sir?"

TRISTAN: Tristan hissed through his teeth when Kurt very purposefully swiped his nose upwards and over the swell of the bulge in his pants. Looking down, he met Kurt's eyes and shook his head, the shadow of a smirk on Tristan's expression that said, you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? Aside from the knowing look, though, Tristan stayed silent and gave Kurt the floor to detail how exactly he went about edging himself that day, and what he thought of during. To Tristan's immense satisfaction, Kurt was extremely thorough in his description. Folding his arms in front of him, Tristan looked down at the submissive with a certain fondness. When Kurt finished, Tristan leaned down and cupped Kurt at the back of his neck, being careful (for now) not to mess up his hair as it looked as though he put a lot of time and effort into it. "Come here." Tristan ordered, drawing Kurt up from his knees so that they were face to face. Tristan was a good half a foot taller than Kurt still, but at least now neither had to crane their necks to make eye contact. Tristan leaned in and inhaled, catching a whiff of the floral perfume Kurt must have used. "You did better than good, beautiful. That was an exquisite explanation, and I want you to rest-assured that you'll be rewarded just as exquisitely." Tristan made a point to ghost his lips against the other's, but they made no real contact yet. He wanted to save that for later.

"We're going to go over each of those fantasies in greater detail later. I have some follow-up questions..." He mused, stepping back just slightly, but remaining in Kurt's personal space still. "As for the little technological idea... Hand over that remote. It's mine until our scene ends." He held his hand out and accepted the remote readily. "I stumbled upon quite the prize in meeting you, Kurt. I can see that already." Tristan stepped forward again and snaked his hand around the other's waist, palming his supple, firm ass with an unprecedented roughness.

"I bet you're hungry... For food, I mean." He clarified with a smirk. "Follow me into the dining room and we'll enjoy the feast my submissive has prepared. Then, we'll talk about moving on to dessert." He stated the last part in husky whisper before taking Kurt's soft hand in his rougher, calloused one and lead him through to the dining room. It took a moment or so for them to get situated, but before long, Tristan was staring at Kurt from across the grand dining table, his intense gaze searching for something he couldn't put words to. Soon, a beautiful blonde girl in a blue dress came in; it was Juliet. Silently, she served them both a cup of tomato soup as the appetizer and hastily exited the scene, leaving them alone once more. "You look incredible tonight, by the way." Tristan complimented, that intense gaze still firmly in place.

KURT: For a short amount of seconds Kurt feared that perhaps he had said too much all at once, and maybe Tristan didn't like that, and now he would paid for that. But all his fears went away with he was risen in his feet, and Kurt's eyes never stopped looking into Tristan's all the while. He could tell he was pleased with him so far, and that made him happy. And when his lips almost brushed his own, and the things he said he would do, all of it made his heart beat so much faster.

"I'm glad you liked the imagery of it just as much as I did, Sir" he said at first, then grinned softly and lowered his head as he handed the remote over to Tristan. Who knew what the other would do to him, but he couldn't wait to find out. "I think we both got lucky, Sir. And yes-" He stood on his toes to almost match the other's height. "I'm starved. For food, and many other things."

He looked all around him as he was led into the dining room, then he took his place at the table. "You really have a beautiful place here, Sir" he said, then thanked the young woman for the food and opened a napkin on his lap. He blushed a little and nodded. "Thank you, Sir. You have no idea how hard it was to find something I wasn't too fond of it been ripped off me." He winked at him playfully, then took a sip of his soup. "Mmm... This is really good!"

TRISTAN: “Well, then…” Tristan started, looking down at Kurt fondly as the other attempted to stand up taller, still only coming up to Tristan noses on his tip-toes. “...let’s get you fed; with food first, of course, because you’re going to need the energy to take on the rest of what I have planned for you this evening.” He stated cooly before he turned on his heel and led Kurt through his suite and into the dining room.

Tristan smiled across the table at Kurt and nodded graciously. “Thank you, thank you. I’ve taken up residence at Lima’s finest...which isn't saying much, but it was the best I could do.” Tristan chuckled lowly and followed suit by spreading his napkin across his lap. “Well, I appreciate the strenuous effort you put into finding something that can be discarded. I can have it replaced if need be, I should add. I just...know myself, and how I respond to beautiful boys like you, and there won’t be any holding back on my part once we get down to it.” That trademark, wicked glint twinkled in his eyes as he smirked over at Kurt’s beautiful, blushing expression. “I’m quite fond of exhibiting my strength in all sorts of ways. Ripping your clothes off is just the start; but you’ll see all of that before the night is through. Assuming you behave, of course.” He added pointedly. “I’m glad you like it. Juliet is an incredible cook.” When she’s around to do so, he thought to himself with a little, concealed bitterness. June 6, 2021

KURT: Kurt chuckled and wiped his mouth with his napkin before he spoke again. "Well, considering how... small this town is, you sure did good, Sir. Although something tells me you have lived in far better places than this town, therefore much better places too." He couldn't help biting the inside of his cheek when he saw that damned wicked smile that made his inside warm, and as he made a slight shift on his seat, so did the butplug he was still wearing. He gasped as quietly as he could and took a sip of water really quickly. "I wouldn't dream of asking you to hold anything back, Sir. In fact-" He looked at him and grinned. "I'm looking forward to see in just how many ways you can make me scream of both pain and pleasure." He turned his head slightly to the side to the spot where the woman had disappeared into, making an assumption that was who he was referring to. His sub.  "She definitely is. And I can see how much she works in keeping this place as nice as it is. You made a fine choice with her." He nodded, then took another good spoon of his soup.

TRISTAN: Tristan nodded. “I won’t deny that much. My apartment in New York is miles better than this, and the view of Central Park really can’t be beat; especially not by the view of the rolling, lack-luster hills of Ohio.” He said rather bitterly before taking a bite of his food, all while keeping his observant gaze trained on the gorgeous figure across from him. Tristan couldn’t help but notice the minuscule little reaction Kurt gave, so as the boy took a sip of his water, Tristan slid his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and flipped the switch on the remote, which turned the butt-plug situated in Kurt’s doubtlessly perfect ass on. Tristan watched and smirked when Kurt reacted. “Something wrong, beautiful?” He asked ever-so casually as if he were asking about the weather.

KURT: For a split second Kurt couldn't help but imagine what Tristan was describing when he spoke about New York. The city he had always dreamed of going, living, visiting, whatever. Some part of him still held onto the hope he might just have that chance one day. Of course, all train of thought went away when all the sudden he felt the plug vibrating inside of him, which made him gasp and even make a small jump on his seat. "Oh.. mm..." he said with a shaky voice, his fingers slightly fisting the tablecloth before he let go of it. Once the initial shock passed, he looked over at the other man and shook his head. "Absolutely nothing, Sir. Everything's just.. perfect..." He moaned softly, keeping his lips pressed tight so he wouldn't be too loud.

TRISTAN: Tristan smirked deviously and quirked a brow at Kurt, his eyes following the way the other gripped at the tablecloth and worked to regain the composure he'd lost. "Perfect, hmm? You're comfortable, then? There's nothing whatsoever I could do to make you feel at home?" He asked softly, simultaneously amping up the pace of the vibrating plug as he did. The Dominant wet his lips and reached up to unbutton the two buttons holding his jacket together, letting it fall open to display a perfectly tailored oxford shirt that clung to his muscular frame in a delicious way. "Don't hold back, Kurt." He said, firmer this time. "I want to hear what I'm doing to you."

KURT: Kurt bit his lip down when he felt the vibration inside of him going higher, his toes curling inside his shoes while he tried to stay as together as he could. "There are... so many things you could do, Sir..." He sucked in a breath when the warmth grew hotter, so when Tristan told him, ordered him not to hold back, he couldn't be more grateful for that. His perfect posture broke as he leaned back on the chair, his head thrown slightly back. With the plug moving the way it was, so sinfully, he wiggled his ass a little and moaned. "Fuck.." he muttered. his tongue wetting his lips.

TRISTAN: Tristan chuckled as Kurt got less and less coherent by the second. God, there was nothing that thrilled him more than having this sort of effect on a submissive. Especially someone as poised and put together as Kurt Hummel. Seeing someone who was so prim and proper breaking down into the depraved, desperate little slut they truly were was the ultimate pleasure for Tristan as a Dominant. He slid his chair back and stood up, dropping his jacket on the back of it as he did, leaving him in just his button up, a gold necklace around his neck glinting in the lighting of his dining room as he sauntered toward Kurt, remote in hand. "Look at you, pretty thing...falling apart for me..." He said softly as he got closer. "I realize there's a lot I could do. There is a lot I will do, but I'm nothing if not a gracious host." He said as he reached Kurt and wound his fingers into the back of his thrown back head, gripping his hair and directing his gaze up at him. "What are you craving more than anything, Kurt?" He asked pointedly, staring down at the writhing boy over the swell of his muscular chest.

KURT: Kurt gulped when he saw Tristan coming towards him, looking so gorgeous and imposing. He knew without a hint of a doubt he would do anything and everything he asked of him, just as long he could feel him for hours and days. He grabbed the arms of his chair with both hands, his breathing a lot faster  now, especially when he looked him right in the eye, his body burning with a diring need when he held him like that. "All of you. Your lips... Your cock... I want it all... I need it, please..."

TRISTAN: "My lips?" He asked in a casually interested tone. "That's not one I'm used to getting. Most people mention my body or something to that effect, but I'm not complaining." Tristan reached out and urged Kurt into a standing position, though he was still a good deal taller than the other. "You're a romantic, aren't you, beautiful?" He asked as his lust-blown eyes honed in on the worried line of Kurt's lips, naturally tense from the stimulation still being exerted on his hole at that moment. Tristan flipped the plug off and instantly felt Kurt melt with relief in Tristan's strong grip, and in that same moment, Tristan leaned in and closed the distance between them, sealing his lips over Kurt's and swallowing up any moans that fell from the other's mouth in the process. To day there were fireworks was an understatement. Kurt's lips were soft, clearly exfoliated and taken care of and they felt heavenly moving against Tristan's. He open his mouth and deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking out the others as his grip on Kurt's slender body tightened.

KURT: Kurt feared that he had stepped on some line when he told Tristan he craved for his lips. He was used to men not wanting anything to do with kissing and just focusing on the sex part; but he would had been lying if he said he was dying to taste his lips. Needless to say he was relieved to hear the Dom wasn't that closed up to the idea. He whimpered a bit when he was pulled on his feet, the new shift making the vibrations so high his knees almost  gave out, but then it was gone and he held onto dear life on Tristan's strong arms. "I guess I am, S-" he started to say, then his words were muffled by the other's lips, and he literally felt he was melting in his arms. He wrapped his arms around Tristan's neck, their bodies pressed together as he tilted his head a little. Their lips molded perfectly, his own opening willingly and taking Tristan in. His tongue swirled hotly over Tristan's, and he pulled his leg up and wrapped it around his waist.

TRISTAN: Tristan growled darkly into the wet heat of Kurt's mouth when he felt the other cling so desperately to his arms. There was little that thrilled him more than a submissive body that was so much smaller than him, holding onto him like that. It made him feel like a man and that set off every alph-male tendency that he worked so hard to cover up with intellectual vocabulary and designer suits. Subtly, Tristan moved his hand up to the small of Kurt's back as the kiss deepened, a motion that caused his bicep to flex and bulge against Kurt's grasp. Tristan pointedly nipped and tugged at Kurt's bottom lip before he soothed over it with his tongue and drew Kurt in against him. Upon feeling the boy's leg winding around his waist, the taller male took the cue and dropped his hands to Kurt's supple, pert little ass and scooped him up, right off the floor and into his arms with the greatest of ease. "God, you're so light." He husked out between kisses before he clapped his hand against Kurt's ass and bounced him in his arms to emphasize his point. "Tossing you around is going to be the easiest thing I've done all day..." He said, pulling back and gazing up at Kurt's blissed out expression. "Is that enough of my lips for now, or are you dying for more?"

KURT: Kurt's blood stirred when he felt Tristan's muscles bulge under his fingers, the idea of what could that strong body do to his much leaner one already making him dizzy. Adding that to the intoxicating taste now coating his tongue, he felt on the clouds. He moaned when he tugged on his lip, his fingers now clutching on his shirt. He gasped over his lips when he was hoisted like that, both his legs now clinging to his waist, then he looked at him and smiled. "Having you manhandling me it's going to be one of the msny highlights tonight, Sir" he breathed, then licked Tristan's lips slowly. "I'd say it was the perfect start, Sir..."

TRISTAN: Tristan smirked against the kiss at the feeling of Kurt's smooth, silk-like hands clutching at the equally luxuriously fabric splayed tautly against his muscled chest. "Hmm." Tristan mused wickedly with a little wag of his brows up at the submissive nestled beautifully in his arms. "Manhandling you is going to be the main-event, beautiful - but there will be so much more that goes along with that." He assured Kurt before he parted his lips slowly and let out a sultry, deep growl as Kurt literally licked his bottom lip. "God, you are something, pretty thing." He commented quietly, worrying his wet lips together as he squeezed at the bubble ass in his hands. "I propose we put dinner on pause. I'm hungry for something else, and contrary to popular belief...." He said, as he slapped Kurt's ass pointedly. "I am not a patient man by any means." With that, he stepped backwards and gracefully whisked Kurt off through the apartment, taking the hallway down to the master bedroom. There, his four-poster, lavishly decorated bed was made up and ready for them. Juliet was no where to be found - likely in the guest bedroom where she was sequestered for the evening. With one more, passionate kiss and tug at Kurts lips, Tristan tossed the boy onto his bed and proceeded to stand at the foot of it, his shirt practically bursting at the seams when he leaned forwards and puffed out his chest. Tristan then braced both arms on either column and gazed down at Kurt's beautiful form. "I am going to absolutely wreck you, Kurt Hummel. I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into..." He said with a wink before he dropped his arms to his sides. "Take off my shirt...and make sure to appreciate every inch of my body as you do."

KURT: Kurt could feel his heart hammering inside his ribs now. Feeling Tristan's body pressed on his own, his strong hads grabbing his ass like that... It was much better than anything he had imagined it would be. "I think that's a great idea, Sir" he said with a soft chuckle, then held tighter on him as he was moved throughout the house. He felt weirdly safe in the other's arms. Getting one more kiss was greatly welcomed, but his body reacted in all the right ways when he was thrown on the bed like that. He leaned back on his elbows so that Tristan could take a good look at him, purposedly pushing his ass down on the mattress. "Maybe I don't... But I'm dying to know, Sir" he said, then he slid to the end of the bed where Tristan was and moved his hands up, his fingers gently undoing the buttons,one by one. He licked his lips when the shirt all but hung from his shoulders, and he placed his hands on his chest and felt every curve of his muscles, almost as if he wanted to memorize it. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he let his fingers roam down his chest. TRISTAN: Tristan smirked that same devious, plotting smirk that Kurt must have been accustomed to seeing by now. He glanced down and then back up at the boy. "You won't have to hold your breath on that front for much longer, sweetheart...unless I decide to pin you down by your pretty little neck, of course." He added with a purposeful wink before he stood up and shuffled closer as Kurt slithered up on his knees and started to unbutton his shirt. It fell open easily, almost relief from the stress it took to remain buttoned against Tristan's hulking frame. He signed and let his head fall back for a moment at the feeling of Kurt's smooth hands roaming along the contours of his chest. He puffed himself up and flexed pointedly under Kurt's hands. "Like what you see, Kurt?"

KURT: Kurt couldn't help the gutural sound that fell off his lips when Tristan flexed his muscles in a way that made him like that much more imposing, the heat inside of him already starting to boil enough to be almost painful, since he had edged himself three times that day, and having to finally touch the man that had been ocuppying his thoughts lately was making it difficult for him to hold back this time. "It's even better in the flesh, Sir" he declared, then he leaned in and gave one of his mot prominent muscles a slow lick, testing the waters  to see if the other wanted him to continue. TRISTAN: Tristan could practically feel the arousal radiating off Kurt's entire body as the boy got closer to him. It made sense, considering how on edge he'd kept Kurt all day; but Tristan was hardly ready to let Kurt come just yet. He wanted to see how far he could stretch this out so that finale was as explosive as possible. (Explosive being the operative word, of course.) Tristan smirked at Kurt's soft-spoken declaration and ran a hand through the boy's hair, tugging at it gently to urge Kurt forwards. At the feeling of Kurt's tongue gliding languidly against the swell of Tristan's pectoral, he let out a hiss that melted into a sigh and was punctuated by the way his cock twitched in his pants. "Oh, God..." He amped up the force he was exerting on the back of Kurt's head to keep his mouth working along the muscled contours of his torso. "Keep going, Kurt... Worship every inch of me." With that, he guided Kurt's head to the other side of his chest, flexed once more and then reached down for Kurt's silky smooth hand and splayed it across his rippled abdomen. "Have you ever submitted to a man like me, Kurt? Did you ever think you would?" Tristan asked softly, but with unmistakable confidence resonating through his words. KURT: Kurt purred like a kitten when he felt Tristan's hand on his head, urging him to continue what he was doing. God, he loved when men grabbed his hair like that, and he felt he was about to love the way Tristan did that way better. He had been told several times he had a wicked and skillful tongue, so he wanted Tristan to test his abilities. He hummed against the sooth skin when he ordered him that and leaned up higher on his knees so he could reach as high as he could. From the spot on the center of his chest he looked up at him through his eyelashes while his tongue was still licking him and smiled. He whimpered softly when his hand was placed on his chest, his fingertips now kneding the strong curves of his muscles. "Honestly, Sir.. I haven't" he said, a bit out of breath. "There have been... plenty. But not one quite like you. You're... something else." He gulped. "I always hoped the day would come when I would, Sir. And it's finally here-" He winked at him, then let his tongue drag all over his chest, his pecs, his nipples, then lower and lower, until he reached the exact point where his V-line started. TRISTAN: The noises that were pouring from Kurt's open mouth against Tristan's solid frame felt like he was sinking into a warm bath. The combined sensation of Kurt's hot breath against his taut skin, along with the wet heat of his tongue as it traced paths along his chest worked to make Tristan feel more like a Dominant than he had in such a long time. His own submissive didn't lap him up with the level of devotion that Kurt was already demonstrating, although he tried not to think about what that meant for his claim. Instead, he worked to focus on the moment; on Kurt's sinfully skilled tongue and the ego-bolstering words that Kurt spoke so sweetly as he worshipped Tristan's body like the statue that he'd worked hard to make it into. Tristan glanced down and caught Kurt gazing up at him with some kind of faux innocence through his lashes - an expression that only urged Tristan to tighten his grip in Kurt's hair that much more. "Fuck..." Tristan rasped out when Kurt squeezed at his pec. It was a thing for him; having his chest played with and worshipped like that. Next to his arms, it was his most coveted body part, so he always appreciated a submissive that needed little prompting to focus on it. "I certainly am." Tristan agreed when Kurt mentioned that he was something far and beyond the other men he'd been with. "...and we've only just begun. By the time I'm through with you, all other men will have been more-or-less ruined for you, I can guarantee that." He stated cockily, his voice giving way to a moan as Kurt continued to bathe his body with his tongue.

Glancing down, Tristan noticed how his entire, sculpted frame was glistening with the saliva left over from Kurt's worship - and it only worked to make him look that much more impressive. When Kurt reached the V-line that led beneath his pants, Tristan tugged Kurt a few inches away, reached for his hand and placed it firmly against the swell of his pec. "Unbutton my pants, Kurt. Remove them, and then get my cock wet over my underwear. I need to be worshipped a bit more before you've earned the right to taste me as closely as I know you want to."

KURT: A stir went through his spine when he heard Tristan saying all other men would be ruined for him afterwards, and God did he hope that was the case. It only gave him a slightest idea what the other had in store for him for the night. He countinued to lick every part of his body, licking, savouring and swallowing every single bead of taste that coated his tongue. He whined when he was pulled off his delicious treat like that, though the harsh pull on his hair sent a shock down to his groin. He looked up at him and grinned, then he undid the button of the pants and he took the zipper down with his teeth, careful not to touch him at first. He had just lowered his pants to the level of his thighs, when he froze for a bout a second, the big, thick length almost hitting him on the face, even under the restrain of the fabric of the underwear. "Fuck... " he said, almost out of breath, then he quickly remembered what was it that he was supposed to do, and with the same skill he had done over his upper body, Kurt let his tongue over the bulge, humming softly as he let it lick it all over, up and down, sometimes even nuzzling it with the tip of his nose. He had to focus real hard not simply pull his underwear down and take him fully in his mouth, but there would be time for that. At some point he let his tongue twirled around the tip of his cock over the fabric, and he looked up at him, without stopping. "Am I doing good, Sir...?" TRISTAN: Tristan ran a hand down his body, flattening out his abdomen so that the muscles bulging underneath stood out even more against Kurt’s eager tongue. He worried his lips together and shook his head reverently as he watched Kurt worship his body like his very life depended on it. “Well, now I know who I’ll be calling when I need a tongue bath after a work-out or even a long day in the office…” He mused mainly to himself as Kurt kept moaning and licking broad stripes of saliva along the sculpted planes of his muscled frame. After he gave the order for Kurt to remove his pants, Tristan raised both hands and situated them behind his head, granting Kurt the ability to show off his ability to comply without any extra prompting or assistance. To say that Tristan was pleased with the display Kurt afforded him was the understatement of the century. Watching the boy with hungry, lust-blown eyes, Tristan blew out a shallow breath of relief when Kurt finall began to push his pants down his thighs. His cock was hard and throbbing underneath his underwear, but the removal of his pants provided just the amount of relief Tristan needed to keep a level head as he continued to tease Kurt. Tristan smirked at Kurt’s initial reaction. “Impressive, isn’t it? Just wait until it’s balls deep inside that pretty, tight little hole of yours…” He growled out, watching Kurt intently as the boy set about getting his member nice and soaked over the fabric of his underwear. By the time Kurt was asking for a performance update, Tristan was almost out of breath himself. A sheen of sweat coated his pumped, muscular body, his pecs heaved intimidatingly over Kurt and his cock was leaking pre-cum into his briefs, which only added to how uncomfortably wet the garment had become. “You are…” He started, dropping one hand to claim Kurt via a fistful of brunette locks once more while the arm stayed where it was, flexed; showing off. “...too good.” He finished with a deep, menacing growl. Without missing another beat, Tristan hooked his thumb under his underwear and shoved the garment down with his pants, allowing his cock to spring forth and slap Kurt against his flushed cheek. Then, before the boy could properly respond, Tristan took him by his hair once more and brought his mouth to his cock. “Open. Now.” He ordered. Once Kurt complied, Tristan groaned and started to fuck his mouth at a deliberately brutal pace.

“God, you were made for this, pretty thing.” He commented as he pummeled the back of Kurt’s throat with his length. “Get those hands up on my body. Feel these muscles while I fuck your pretty face. Serve me like the alpha man I am, Kurt.” He snarled, his chest heaving with exertion as he continued to fuck into the wet heat of Kurt’s mouth.

KURT: Kurt was in a total state of bliss while licking Tristan on top of his underwear, his mind filling with images of what that thick dick would do to him, the many ways in which he could leave him shaking, and it only fueled the fire already burning inside of him, starting with the plug inside his ass, and of course the way the night had been going that night so far. He sniffed the smell of slick oozing under the fabric and groaned, but then whined when he was pulled back again, feeling almost like he could protest and tug the other man away so he could go back to what he was doing. But any hint of protest was gone in the blink of an eye, and just like that Tristan got rid of his pants and his big cock slapped him in the face.

For a second he froze, not even moving to breathe, his eyes set on what was in front of him, the impressive sight of that big piece of meat, which was now making him drool. "Sir-" he begun to say, soft as a whisper, but his words were cut out by Tristan's, and next thing he knew he was complying happily, opening his mouth wide and moaning as the throbbing dick slid over his tongue and reached deep in the back of his throat. He grunted, then moaned, both pain and delight clashing together and making him a writhing mess, even while only being on his knees.  He reached his hands up like he was told to, but he didn'thave to be told twice about it. There was nothing he loved more at that moment than to worship the gorgeous and flawless body that was about to own him soon.

He had never been happier tabout not having a gag reflex, because he didn't want anything to come in the way of him getting what he hoped what the first of many treats he would have that night. He looked up at him and batted his eyelashes, a wicked grin forming around the male's cock, his own now burning with need. He swiped the pad of his thumbs over his nipples and tweaked them slightly, the slick of Tristan's precum and his own saliva now dripping down the corner of his mouth. TRISTAN: It was fairly evident that this wasn’t Kurt’s first time taking a cock down his throat. He was a natural as far as Tristan could tell. While there was choking and moans and spasms, Tristan could tell that it was mainly for show. Kurt knew how to regulate his breathing so that they could go on like this forever without interruption, and God, did a part of Tristan want just that. Another part of him, though, needed more, and he knew Kurt needed more too. Tristan used one to hold Kurt’s mouth down against his cock, and the other guided Kurt’s soft hand over the muscled contours of his sweating body. “Fuck yeah, Kurt… Feel that body… Feel that power.” He urged, still fucking Kurt’s mouth at a devastating pace while he flexed his pumped chest against the submissive’s groping hands.

Tristan prolonged the throat-fucking for a bit longer, but when Kurt batted his eyelashes up at him in the middle of it, he felt himself hurdling towards a release he wasn’t ready for. Urgently, Tristan yanked Kurt off his cock and threw him back, the boy landing softly on his back against the throw pillows at the head of the bed. Tristan smirked down at him, all sweaty, gloriously towering over Kurt’s wrecked form. “My, what a mess you’ve made of yourself, pretty thing.” He teased, kicking his pants off before he mounted the bed at the foot and crawled over Kurt, crowding him up against the headboard. “We wouldn’t want all that to get on these precious clothes of yours, would we?” Tristan asked, reaching for the collar of Kurt’s black t-shirt. Without waiting for an answer, Tristan exhibited his strength, flexed and tore Kurt’s shirt in two, leaving it in tatters on either side of Kurt’s slender body.

“Beautiful…” Tristan husked out through labored breaths, his chest heaving as he drank in the sight of Kurt’s body. Laying down on top of Kurt, Tristan lifted him with one hand by his slim waist and held him flush against his rippled, sweaty body and kissed him deeply, their tongues battling for dominance all the while until Tristan’s inevitably won out.

KURT: Kurt moaned with his mouth full with Tristan's cock when he could feel the sweat beads running down his body, his fingernails dragging their way down the perfect and strong figure. It was a sort of sense of pride, and also some small manner of control to know he was the cause for the bigger man to react like that. When he was pulled away like that there was a small part of him that feared perhaps he had messed something up, but as he was thrown on the bed, and he thought just how much the other's cock was throbbing and leaking, he knew that there wasn't anything wrong, at all. He licked his lips as he watched Tristan crwling his way up the bed, himself pushing himself back as if they were in a sort of cat and mouse play until his head reached the headboard above.

"Nuh uh... You have no idea how difficult it is to get rid of cum on black clothes, Sir. It never goes away" he said with a soft chuckle, then gasped when, with a single yank, his shirt was torn in two pieces, his lean, but somewhat muscular frame completely exposed for the other man to see. His cheeks burned pink, and so did some spots over his chest and stomach, with th blood pumping furiously through his body like it was, especially with Tristan looking down at him like he was, like a delicious snack he could devour in a single bite. He grabbed with both arms when he was lifted like that, their lips dwelling into the sweetness and roughness of their tongues and teeth moving together, his hands soon finding their way down the muscular back, fingernails dragging over the skin until he reached his ass and squeezed it hard.

When they finally pulled back from the kiss his face was completely flushed, his perfectlycombed hair now spiking in every direction and his lips sinfully red and swollen. "Please, Sir... I want more... more...." He didn't care about begging for what he wanted more than anything at that moment. He could beg as much as Tristan would want him to.

TRISTAN: “It’s a good thing you followed my instructions and wore something that can be discarded.” Tristan said with a cheeky smirk before he did just that and shredded the garment in two. He puffed out his chest in pride at Kurt’s reaction - God, did he love getting little submissives like this one all wound up and drunk on the power and sheer, brute strength he exuded. It was, after all, the main driving force behind his rigorous fitness regime - to sculpt a body with real, honest power behind it that would make submissives drop to their knees in worship at the slightest flex. Tristan struck that rare balance between brains and brawn, and he stuck it just right. Tristan hummed approvingly into the kiss as Kurt threw his arms around his neck and clung to his body, melting in his arms as if he were designed to be underneath him; and in fact, he absolutely was designed for that.

“Oh, you’ll have more.” The dominant snarled out confidently. “More than you can even handle, I think.” He warned, although he had no intentions of holding back when the time came. Tristan’s tongue lashed at Kurt’s with a hunger he hadn’t felt in far too long, and his desire was amped up even more by the punctuating way Kurt’s blunt nails scraped down the muscled planes of his back, to his tight ass, and back up. It was cute the way Kurt tried to exert some force of his own, squeezing Tristan’s ass like he had any control at all. In response, Tristan mirrored Kurt’s move, letting one of his own hands trail down Kurt’s slender back, over the swell of wide, beautiful hips to his ass where he squeezed roughly. He ran his fingers between those supple cheeks to tease roughly at the hole he was about to fuck. His fingers met the blunt end of the plug, so he carefully removed it and discarded it over the side of the bed before he returned his fingers to Kurt's now bare, stretched entrance. “This…” He whispered into Kurt’s ear. “...is mine.” He said with a growl. “Repeat who this hole belongs to, Kurt.” Looking down at Kurt’s beautifully disheveled form, Tristan hummed under his breath, his eyes baring down on the boy as he braced his powerful body over him, his broad shoulders cutting off anything else so that all Kurt could see was Tristan. “You want more? Beg for it. Beg for what you want. Use your words and be specific, pretty thing.” KURT: Kurt could care less about his clothes being tore and tossed on the bed, or anywhere. The feeling, the warmth that was overwhelming his now naked body with Tristan's also naked one laying on top of him  made up for everything else. He pushed his body up, writhing and rutting against Tristan, then he gasped when the other's hand reached down his ass and pulled the plug out of him.

To say he felt relief would be an understatement, especially when the Dom quickly replaced the toy with his thick fingers. His body arched underneath him, the heat that went through him making him do all kind of lustful sounds. "Yours. It's yours..." he breathed out, then looked at him. "I'm yours." He held onto his strong shoulders and licked his lips. "I want your tongue buried deep in my ass... I want your fingers prepping me nice and open... And I want your cock to split my ass in two, and after you're done, I want you to flip me over and start all over again..." He pushed his hips up again. "And I want you to breed me fully. I want to feel your cum dripping out of my ass..., Sir." He winked at him and bit his lip down. TRISTAN: I’m yours. That was unexpected. Even in Tristan’s lust-crazed state, he found the will to pause and absorb that. Sure, he knew Kurt didn’t mean that in any sort of way that extended beyond this scene, but it was spoken with such sincerity and devotion that it stopped him in his tracks. He tried to recall when his own submissive had really given herself to him so wholly during a scene like Kurt was, and he was drawing a blank. Problematic to say the least, but not a priority, considering the very naked, desperate submissive writhing with need underneath him. Tristan cleared his throat, shook his head and re-entered the scene mentally with guns blazing. “Correct. Here, now, you belong completely to me, Kurt. Your pleasure is mine. Your body is mine. You exist to serve me, and you’re lucky for it.” He said, softly but no less domineering against Kurt’s lips as his fingers scissored Kurt’s entrance open. Tristan breathed out hotly when Kurt’s hips gyrated upwards, seeking something, anything that Tristan might decide to afford him. The Dominant smirked against Kurt’s panting mouth. “Well, you certainly know how to follow an order thoroughly, I’ll grant you that.” He pushed in a third finger and continued to work Kurt open. “You want my tongue in your tight little ass? Very well. Roll over and prop that rear up for me, pretty thing.” He ordered before sitting up on his knees, his chiseled frame still dotted with sweat and heaving from all the activity, his cock erect and throbbing between muscular thighs as he waited for Kurt to assume the position.

KURT: Kurt swallowed hard when he saw the hesitation on Tristan's part, or at least that's how he felt about it, even if it was just for about a second. Soon he went back to be himself, the man who couldn't wait to continue to adore for the night; and he would be even much happier if he got to do that more than just for one night. He groaned and threw his head back when he felt the thick fingers working him open, his ass also pushing back down on the digits to get him even deeper inside of him. "Oh gosh... So lucky... yes... mmm... I want to serve you... fully... in everything and anything you want, Si- ahh..." He moaned and pressed his face on Tristan's shoulder. His body was already a shaking mess when Tristan added a third finger, which he knew had helped in stretching him more than the plug had done. He simply nodded at the question, his teeth gnawing on his lower lip, then when he was given the space he turned on his stomach with a graceful move, then, being the show off kind that he was, he slowly got on his hands and knees, moving almost like a cat would, then lowered his upper body and lifted his ass up, his thighs pressed together. "You like the view, Sir?" he asked casually, even wiggling his ass at the other man for good measure. TRISTAN: Tristan hummed his approval as Kurt’s words washed over him and continued to bolster his ego and entire persona as a Dominant. Truly, he hadn’t felt this sincerely dominant in such a long time, and it took Kurt’s sweet, devoted brand of submission to make him realize that. “You were absolutely made for this, pretty thing.” He commented huskily as the writhing submissive worked himself down against Tristan’s fingers. “Just as I was made to dominate gorgeous, eager little submissives like yourself...but that much is obvious, isn’t it?” He asked rhetorically, shooting Kurt a little wink before his strong, sweat-glistening arm wrapped around the small of Kurt’s slender back, lifted him up off the mattress and flipped him over so that his perfectly plump rear was exposed to him. Tristan hissed at the sight and ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather himself enough to keep from simply lining his cock up at the boy’s entrance and taking him in one thrust. This needed to be dragged out for it to be as memorable as he wanted it to be. He needed Kurt coming back for more, after all, and that wouldn’t happen if he rushed through the formalities. Tristan still drank in the sight before him, the way Kurt’s thighs were pressed together emphasized the swell of his hips which led to two, shapely cheeks. He reached out and spread them apart, exposing Kurt’s pink, stretched little hole to him. “Mmm, ‘like’ is an understatement, sweetheart… In fact, I’m not sure there’s words for just how much I like what I’m looking at, so I won’t bother trying to find them.” He said, wetting his lips and lifting one hand, only for it to clap down loudly against Kurt’s right cheek. “Actions speak louder, anyway.” He scooted forward on his knees and leaned in, spreading Kurt’s ass roughly and licked a broad stripe from his taint up through and over his hole, back down and repeated the motion a few times before inserting a finger along with his tongue. He curled the wet muscle expertly in time with the insertion of his finger while his other hand kept his cheeks spread roughly. He moaned deeply against Kurt’s entrance, lapping at him in a desperate attempt to not only give him a fraction as much pleasure as he, himself had been given, but also to get him stretched open enough to accommodate his own girth. “Such a tight, pretty little hole...even after having a plug in it all day.” Tristan mused in between periods of licking. “Do you think you’ll be able to take my cock, sweetheart? All of it?” KURT: Kurt clutched with both hands onto the fine sheets underneath him while he waited, his as fully exposed for Tristan to look at, to appreciate, to devour, to break. To do whatever he felt like doing. It felt like centuries to him before he felt the shifting on the bed, a signal that he was moving, and he smiled softly and nodded. "I'll take that as a good sign, Sir" he was able to say about the other's praise, but everything else dwell into a sounding and sinful moan the moment he felt the warm muscle dragging its way up his crack and then over his entrance. His teeth bit onto his lower lip hard, and he could soon feel the copper taste of blood from how hard he was doing that.  "Oh my god... yes... oh, Sir... fuckk... mmm... that feels so good..."

He was by now a babbling mess, not able to make definitive words, but the sounds were definitive enough to let the other know he was riding a blissful cloud while having his tongue buried in his ass. He was finally able to take a breather when the other man did briefly, and he turned his head enough to look at him. "I workout a lot to keep it tight like that, Sir... But trust me- It will fit, and it will hurt so good... that I can't wiat for to happen-" He pushed his ass on Tristan's face in a playful manner. "But your tongue is doing a mighty good job there, Sir..." He looked at him and pouted, his teeth now biting the tip of his thumb. TRISTAN: Every sound that fell from Kurt’s sinful lips was like music to Tristan’s ears. It was like the boy was programmed to know exactly how to turn Tristan on, and to keep him tud on and in the moment. He growled against Kurt’s pulsating entrance, salivating against the tight, sensitive skin he found there. He kept Kurt’s cheeks roughly spread as he lapped hungrily at the hole presented to him, doing everything in his power to prep Kurt for the inevitable.

Leaning back, Tristan took a moment to look over his work, his eyes boring down intensley on that tight little hole, wet with his spit and pulsating visibly in anticipation to be filled with something much, much more substantial. Biting his lip, Tristan’s lust-blown eyes dragged up from the delicious sight of his ass to meet Kurt’s heady expression. “I can tell you do, pretty thing -  and you’re right, it will hurt...but I intend to turn that pain to pleasure in record time.” He assured the other, reaching down with one hand to stroke his rock-hard member, his arousal intensifying at the sight of Kurt sucking on his thumb like that. “You know exactly how to make yourself look oh-so innocent and unassuming, don’t you?” Tristan sneered playfully. “But...you’re really nothing of the sort. You’re a submissive little cockslut who needs an alpha man’s cock like you need oxygen to breath.” Tristan said in a deep, masculine tone, wetting his lips and tightening up the muscles in his body to give something alpha-esque for Kurt to gawk over his shoulder at. KURT: Kurt whimpered when he felt the warmth of Tristan's saliva dripping down his crack, the soft touch of feeling like an electric shockwave that went through him. "I'm counting on that, Sir... And it will be so fucking hot... Been dreaming about it for days, and I hadn't even met you in person yet- But now that I do..." He pushed his ass back, teasing the other man. "I can tell I'm never going to get enough of you." He chuckled and shruggedf slightly. "Maybe I am innocent. You can never tell-" He winked at him. "Or maybe I'm just waiting for the right kind of man for me to show just how much of a naughty boy I am." He bit his lip down when he saw the muscles flexing on Tristan's body, which made him look even hotter if possible. "Fuck, please... Sir... Please, fuck me... I want you so bad-" His own cock twitched with need, but since the other hadn't said otherwise, he understood that as if he couldn't touch himself for the moment. He lowered his head just a bit, so his eyes peeking from under his shoulder were the only thing the other man could see. "Let me show you... just how good of a cockslut I can be for you." TRISTAN: Tristan chuckled against the pulsating flesh of Kurt’s tight little hole. “And you’ll be dreaming of this for days after we’re done here, as well. I can guarantee that much.” He promised confidently before licking yet another broad stripe straight through the crevice separating Kurt’s supple cheeks, a deep, masculine moan falling from his lips as he did so. “I must say…” He said, leaning back and clapping his hand roughly over Kurt’s ass. “...the feeling there is absolutely mutual. I knew after a moment alone with you that I’d be requesting your presence time and time again; so I’m pleased to hear that’s a sentiment you share, Kurt.” He slapped Kurt’s ass again and said, “Very pleased.” as the punctuating remark. Quirking a brow, Tristan wet his lips and scooted in, gripping his cock in his hand and slapping it soundly against Kurt’s entrance. “I don’t know if I can show you what a naughty boy you are, but I can certainly treat you like one...if you’re asking for it.” He teased, smirking at the way Kurt ogled his body. It was obvious that the other had a thing for muscles, and Tristan was more than happy to oblige that kink. “See something you like, sweetheart?” He said, rutting his cock against Kurt’s ass as he lifted his arm and purposely flexed his bicep, yearning to see Kurt’s jaw drop at that sight alone. Tristan chuckled and quickly spit down onto his cock and Kurt’s entrance, providing some last minute lubrication (although it wasn’t quite necessary considering the copious pre-come that was coating the head of his cock by then.) “That’s hardly a request I can turn down… You sure know how to pique a man’s interest, Kurt Hummel. ...Among other things.” He added, stretching Kurt’s hole with one hand and pressing forward to slide the head of his cock through the tight ring of muscle as he did so. “Not only am I going to let you show me how much of a desperate little omega slut you are for me…” He said, leaning forward to pull Kurt up by his neck so that his back was arched against the impressive swell of Tristan’s well-formed pecs. “I’m ordering you to. I want you moaning on my cock not only because it feels good, but because it’s what you absolutely live for.” He snarled against the shell of Kurt’s ear. “Start screaming for me, Hummel.” He said, shifting so that he had Kurt in a bit of a headlock, his bicep bulging and flexing against Kurt’s neck as the Dominant began to fuck up into him at an unforgiving pace. KURT: Kurt could feel his whole body burning with lust and need. Tristan knew exactly how to make a babbling mass out of someone, and today he was definitely doing his best with Kurt. "I do, Sir... Like you said, I think you're about to ruin any other man for me from now on, so you can definitely expect me to be coming back for more-" He whimpered when he felt the thick member now rutting over his crack, and he pushed his ass back to feel some more of it. "Oh yes... Treat me like the cockslut I am, Sir... Let me be your pretty cockslut..." he purred, then grinned. "Everything I see tonight I like, Sir... And I want all of it."

He was about to brace himself for impact, sort of speak, when all the sudden he felt himself being practically yanked off the bed, now on his knees, with his back arched against the other's strong body.  "God, yes... yes..." he was able to say, just when the other entered him in one single, hard thrust and begun to pound his ass hard. His balls slammed the pale skin, his thick cock reaching deep inside of him every time. "AHH... AHH! FUCK, YES! YESSS... FUCK ME- AHH... AHHH..." He bit his lip down and threw his head back to reach Tristan's shoulder, his hands holding onto the man's strong arm for dear life. "You feel so fucking good in my ass- ahh... Harder... harder... mmm" TRISTAN: “You are my pretty, submissive little cockslut, Kurt. Don’t you fucking forget it.” Tristan corrected, smirking all the while even though his tone came through as an intimidating growl of sorts. He punctuated his reiteration by gripping a fistful of Kurt’s hair, yanking him backwards against his firm body, baring his neck so that he could passionately suck an open-mouthed kiss against the pale, porcelain skin he found there. “Mine.” He growled once more, hoping he’d made his point.

The screams pouring from Kurt’s sinful, kiss-swollen mouth was like music to Tristan’s ears, and it only worked to spur him on that much more. “That’s right, slut. Take my cock...just...just like that.” Tristan panted out against the shell of Kurt’s ear, his cock throbbing through the thrusts as the malleable, slender boy groped at his flexed bicep that pinned the switch up against his built, solid frame. “Careful what you ask for, Hummel.” Tristan growled out  when the boy had the audacity to ask him to go even harder. That was something Tristan was more than happy to oblige, but he wasn’t sure Kurt knew what he was getting himself into. Regardless, he leaned in, nipped at Kurt’s ear before he shoved him roughly down to the mattress underneath them. Tristan fell forward onto Kurt’s back, his cock still buried deep in the boy’s ass. With this new angle, Tristan pinned Kurt’s shapely hips to bed and used his new leverage to really pound into the beautiful submissive spread out underneath him. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls along with the sound of his bed banging against the wall. “Take...my...cock...you little fucking slut!” Tristan yelled out, drilling Kurt at a deafening pace; his entire, muscular body was drenched and glistening with sweat now as he gave the other everything he had to give. KURT: Kurt grunted when Tristan pulled his hair like that, a huge turn on for him, the skin of his neck burning with the feeling of the mark the other had left there. It would be the first time he wouldn't mind not wearing a scarf to hide the marks on his neck. He would wear it proudly. He whimpered when he hard thrust made a rush of pain and pleasure to shoot up his spine, his body now spotting with soft pink marks all over with how hard and fast his blood was pumping. "I ask- ahh... only for what I want, Sir..." he was able to say, right before he was thrown on the bed again, with Tristan on his back and attached deeply inside of him.

"Fuck- FUCK, YES!!" he screamed, so hard his throat hurt after, the sound of slapping skin filling the room while he felt his body completely pinned and fucked against the bed. He fisted the sheets to try and grab some support, but the way he was being held down barely left him a chance to move at all, even for support. He buried his face on the mattress, his teeth biting on the sheets. "Oh my god, yes.. yess... I'm fucking cockslut for you- Just for you... oh god... ahhh... fucking hurts so good.. mm..." Sweat drops rolled off his neck and body, as his cock throbbed with desperate need as it laid trapped between the mattress and his hips. TRISTAN: Tristan grunted, reeled back only to pound into Kurt again, taking him all the way to the base of his massive length, pinning the boy effortlessly to the mattress underneath him. “Oh, fuck yeah, boy… Fucking scream for me…” Tristan encouraged against the shell of Kurt’s ear. Tristan noticed Kurt grasping for something to hold on to, and immediately he reached for Kurt’s hand, laced their fingers together and allowed the boy to use him for all the support he needed he fucked him fast and hard, the sound of his powerful hips slapping against Kurt’s supple ass reverberating off the walls of his bedroom. Tristan looked down at Kurt, honestly amazed at the beautiful display of senseless submission and ecstasy unfolding underneath him. “Yeah? You like that, pretty thing? You like my big alpha cock pounding out your little hole? Fucking owning you?” He asked through labored pants, his chest heaving powerfully as he kept it up, pounding Kurt out without hesitation. “Fuck…” Tristan rasped out, falling forward, his chiseled frame flexing against Kurt’s back as he continued to fuck him. “I’m going to come, boy… W-Where do you want it?” He asked, figuring that with how good Kurt had been, the least he could do was give him that choice. KURT: Pain and lust now fueled his body in a way he didn't remember feeling in a long time, and Kurt knew, right to his bone, that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer, especially not after having been edged three times already that day, and now with being fucked out of his mind like he was. He closed his hand tight around Tristan's when he laced their fingers together, and although he knew very well he couldn't move, much less fall over with the way Tristan was pining to the with his own body weight, it felt to have his hand to hold, to have his strength to support him now, especially when he felt his body going more limb by the second. "Oh, I love it, Sir..." He turned his head and met Tristan's gaze. "I love your big dick, Alpha... Especially when it's fucking my slut, tight Omega hole.." He bit his lip down and captured Tristan's lips for a second before the other fell on top of him, his hips never stopping impalling his body down to the bed. He managed to squeeze his cheeks around his cock and moaned even louder. "Fucking breed me... I want to feel your cum dripping out of my used hole..." He met his eyes. "I beg you... Breed me, Alpha..." TRISTAN: Tristan let out an animalistic growl when Kurt started referring to him as an alpha. That much was obvious to anyone with eyes, of course, but to hear Kurt outwardly admit it without an ounce of shame only worked to make Tristan absolutely throb with need. "Fuck!" He yelled, nipping at the nape of Kurt's beautiful, porcelain neck as he pounded him out and into the bed. "That's what I like to hear, little slut. You wouldn't feel completely owned without my hot come filling you all the way up, would you?" He asked rhetorically, the snap of his hips taking a more frantic, less controlled pace as he began to topple over the edge. "Fuck, fuck, I'm coming!" He yelled, holding Kurt flush against his sweaty, rock-hard body as he found his release, coming in harsh, erratic spurts right into Kurt's tight little hole. "Holy...shit." He breathed out as waves of arousal crashed through him. After a beat, he laid there on top of Kurt, catching his breath. "Your turn..." He breathed out through a smirk. "Since you were such a good fucking boy for me, I'll let you choose where you want me while you come - and what you want me doing." He added, kissing Kurt's neck to give the boy some time to decide how he wanted their scene to end. KURT: Kurt whimpered when he felt the way Tristan was pounding on him now, much harder and faster, and he could feel him throb and twitch inside of him, and that made it all that much hotter. He wanted to say that yes, that was what he wanted, everything he had ever wanted and that now he was getting and how thankful he was for that, but he was now at loss of words. Hiw body begun shaking in a way he knew he wouldn't be able to control, but he got to keep it together until he was told he could let go, and what a bliss would that be. He held onto Tristan's arm with both hands, his body going still at first when he finally felt his warm seed filling him out, and he pushed and squeezed his ass around him to help him ride his high.  He was still catching his breath when Tristan fell on top of him, spent, although his erection now pressed against the bed felt like it was about to explode. The soft kisses on his neck helped to ease him down, giving at least a couple of seconds longer.

Knowing that wouldn't be far too long, and that he was given the choice, he cleared hi throat and was finally able to speak again. "Holy shit is... putting it mildly, Sir..." he said with a soft voice, then he bit his lip down. "Okay" he said with a wicked little grin, then he used what little strength he still had on him to turn them both over. Without missing a second he pulled himself off Tristan, then turned around and sat on his lap again. He knew the man was already done, but he also knew he wasn't going to last long, so he wanted it to be that way. Reaching back he closed his hand around Tristan's cock, holding it while he sank on it, and with his head thrown back he begun to bounce on top of him, the fire that was still going through him soon sending him down the edge, that blessed point where he had wanted to get all day long. And with a single, strangled cry, he was soon coming all over his stomach and Tristan's, without touching himself once, only by Tristan's cock. Finally he too fell on top of the Dominant, breathless and with his heart about to jump out of his chest. "That was... fucking amazing..." he breathed against his neck. TRISTAN: Tristan chuckled quietly, kissed Kurt's neck again and gave the boy a second to consider his options, while also taking the moment to get himself together again, as well. Catching the boys little grin, he knew right away that Kurt knew just how he'd get off. Grunting, Tristan moved with the submissive, falling over onto his back and adjusting his position as Kurt climbed on top of him. When the boy gripped his still-hard cock, Tristan winced at the sensitivity, but quickly forgot about it when he was granted the sight of Kurt riding him. It was just about the hottest thing he'd ever seen: Kurt's slim, beautiful form, flush with arousal, bouncing desperately in his lap, his own cock hard and throbbing, rutting against Tristan's chiseled abs. Tristan looked up at Kurt with a heady gaze, wet his lips and started to tighten his body, flexing every muscle as Kurt drank in the sight underneath him, definitely aiding in how fast Kurt came shortly after. "That's right, baby. Come for me. Come for your alpha. Now." Tristan ordered - and with that, Kurt compiled, spilling himself with three or four loads worth of come all over Tristan's abs and pecs, all without even touching himself. It was impressive to say the least; and absolutely mind-blowing to say the most. Out of breath and overly sensitive, Tristan blew out a puff of air through his lips and wrapped his bulging arms around Kurt's petite frame. "You're fucking amazing." He corrected, sucking a kiss against the boys neck as he caught his breath. "And all this before we even finished dinner..." He said teasingly against Kurt's ear.

KURT: Kurt slipped his arms under Tristan's frame the best he could, wanting nothing more than just stay that way forever. A silly, romantic thought to have after being fucked out of your wits, and also something he didn't know if Tristan would want at all. But for a couple of seconds... it felt nice. Just to lay together like that. He looked at him and smiled. "We are" he said and winked softly, then chuckled. "Hmm.. Imagine all we can do- after he eat some proteins and get our strength back." He wiggled his eyebrows at him and giggled. "It's been the best night I've had in a long time. Thank you, Sir." He let the pad of his thumb to brush under Tristan's chin and smiled. TRISTAN: Tristan smiled softly, amusement dancing in his eyes as he took in the beautiful sight of Kurt's limp form regaining some composure against his solid, sweaty frame. He wrapped his strong arms around Kurt and held him close. "We won't have to imagine all that for much longer if I have my way..." He whispered against Kurt's lips, kissing him softly before pulling back to give him a little wink. "...and I always get my way." He breathed in deeply. "Now. We're going to lay here for a few more minutes. Then you're going to clean up the mess you made all over my chest...with your tongue. After I'm satisfied with your work, we'll move back to the dining room to finish dinner." He wanted the agenda to be clearly laid out. Once he was sure Kurt understood he settled again and buried his face in Kurt's messed up hair, breathing in the scent of something floral and feminine. "You're welcome, Kurt." He said, rubbing his hand up and down the boy's slender back, remembering how much he enjoyed hearing Tristan say his name. "The pleasure was, and will continue to be mine." He kissed his lips once more before he relented and started to relax, at least for a little while.

[robronvalentineexchange]

Perfect Moments

Inspired by the wonderful art by @scrapyardboyfriends: Champagne? Wow! That hotel has turned your head. From you Robron Valentine. Thank you for always creating the most wonderful art, you are invaluable to this fandom and we are so lucky to have you <3

Aaron doesn’t like champagne. He never has. It is bitter and too sparkly and he has never understood why people love it so much. He stares at the bottle in his hand and smiles wryly, before placing it in his bag along with some chocolate and other necessities.

Robert’s going to love this.

He has the whole thing planned out. Robert is going to come back from work Friday evening, tired and ranting about Jimmy never cleaning up after himself, and Aaron’s going to get him to shut up walk right back out of the door and to the car, which will be packed and ready to leave.

“But it’s not even Valentine’s Day, that’s next weekend!” Robert protests when Aaron marches him out of the door.

“Keys,” Aaron says, holding out a hand. Robert rolls his eyes, but he is smiling when he throws the keys to his new audi over the car. “I couldn’t do this on Valentine’s Day could I,” Aaron continues, “you always plan for a dinner at a fancy restaurant with at least three courses.”

Robert lets out a huff of laughter and gets in. “You’ve got other plans, do you?”

Aaron grins as he turns the car on and shifts into first gear. “I do, Mr. Dingle.”

The bag he packed also contains the keys to a small flat he has managed to snag for the weekend in Manchester. It is all he can do to contain his glee as Robert grows increasingly confused, scanning their surroundings as Aaron drives through the Yorkshire countryside.

“Aaron, are you kidnapping me for the weekend? If you do I need to call Vic and have her take Seb tomorrow,” Robert asks to force a reply.

“If you were being kidnapped you’d be in the boot,” Aaron says. “I’ve sorted it, so don’t worry.”

Robert presses his hands against his thighs and lets out a slow breath. “I’m not worried,” he says when a few seconds have passed.

“No?” Aaron asks, and when he looks over at his husband the late afternoon sun beautifully catches on his skin, making his smile glow.

“No,” Robert says. There’s a certainty to those words that sends a thrill down Aaron’s spine, even after years of marriage. “I’m not.”

Aaron drives on in silence, and Robert doesn’t say another word.

Robert’s eyebrows are quirked up as they pull into the parking lot close to the centre of town. Aaron pays for a 48h ticket and that has Robert smiling, eyes shining.

“What’ve you got planned?” he finally asks as they walk down the street.

Aaron bites his lower lip. “You’re so impatient.”

“I’m not,” Robert counters. He’s carrying his bag over his shoulder, knuckles whitening on the handle.

“You hate not being in control.”

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” Robert says, and it is laced with heat. Aaron can remember countless times where Robert has lost control, giving in to Aaron’s touch.

“Fine,” Aaron concedes. “We’re almost there.”

Robert laces his hand with Aaron’s as they walk.

“You’ve rented this place?” Robert asks. Aaron nods. They have settled in, placing their bags in the bedroom, and Aaron managed to pop the bottle in the fridge in the brief time it took Robert to go to the bathroom.

The flat is beautiful; all designer furniture and clean lines. The windows are wide, showing the view of Manchester; blocks of cement interspersed with Gothic spires, or at least that was what Robert said last time they were here.

“Where did you find it?”

Aaron shrugs. “I’ve got my ways.”

Robert barks out a laugh, wraps his arms around Aaron from behind and kisses him in the spot under his ear. Aaron can’t help but lean into it, place his hands on top of Robert’s, holding him closer.

“One of our business partners was so happy about our last deal that he said he owed me one,” Aaron admits.

“Ah,” Robert hums, lips still against Aaron’s skin. “So, since this is your plan, what’s next?”

Aaron turns in Robert’s arms and kisses him, softly at first but it soon grows hungry, desperate, a dance they are both all too familiar with to not know where it is going. Robert tugs at Aaron’s jumper, fingers slipping under the hem of Aaron’s shirt to graze the skin of his stomach, grabbing his arse and pulling him closer.

“I’m guessing you packed for this too?” Robert whispers as Aaron kisses him down his throat.

Aaron grins at him, and pushes him towards the bed. It isn’t long before all clothes are shed and both of them are panting against each other’s skin. Definitely how Aaron planned to start off the weekend.

Afterwards, when the sweat has cooled and they are lying under the duvet, arms wrapped around one another, Aaron remembers why he brought the champagne. Robert is already languid, limbs heavy and head pressed into the crook of Aaron’s neck; they are wrapped around each other completely, bodies intertwined and deliciously relaxed. If anything will make Robert relax even more, it is a glass of bubbles.

Robert protests as he shuffles out of the bed, but stops when Aaron walks naked out to the kitchen.

He walks back in a few minutes later, bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. Of course a place like this has champagne glasses on display in the cupboard.

“Is that -” Robert starts.

“It is.”

Robert sits up, a grin spreading over his face.

“But you hate champagne!”

Aaron smiles. “You don’t, though.”

Aaron shuffles under the duvet again, pulling it up so it covers his legs and lower stomach. Robert moves closer immediately, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder.

“You want to?” Aaron asks.

The ensuing grin makes all the trouble planning this thing worth it.

He takes a glass for Robert and deftly pours a respectable amount into it while Robert rests his head against Aaron’s shoulder, before he gets a glass for himself and does the same. Their glasses make a satisfying ‘clink’ as they raise them to their health and then, a sip. It is just as Aaron remembers it; despite everything he has been told about it, Aaron doesn’t like champagne. He takes a sip, containing his dislike as best he can but Robert starts laughing.

“You don’t have to drink it,” Robert says. “You know that.”

“We’re sharing,” Aaron says. “Plus, if you get a whole bottle you won’t be awake in an hour.”

Robert nuzzles closer, and Aaron lets him. “What’ve you got planned in an hour?”

Aaron grins. “Sushi… then sex, if you want.”

“I thought you hated sushi,” Robert says, eyebrows rising.

“There may or may not be some alternatives in there as well,” Aaron says. “But…”

“I love sushi?”

Aaron leans forward, pressing a deep kiss to Robert’s lips.

Champagne might not taste good, but the taste of it on Robert’s tongue has him desperate for more. It isn’t long before the glasses are placed on the bedside tables, and Aaron’s mouth is wrapped around Robert.

Aaron wakes before Robert does; he hasn’t done that in a while. Robert’s face is peaceful, his jaw slack and his hair tousled from the second and third rounds last night. It warms his heart to see Robert so relaxed and peaceful, especially after a stressful few weeks where Aaron has barely seen him outside of tea and bed.

Today he can’t stay in though, can’t wrap his arms around his husband and wait for him to wake up. Aaron has plans that are too important. moves the arm Robert has wrapped around his chest and quickly hops into some clothes, leaving the flat. The sound of the door slamming shut 20 minutes later must be what wakes Robert up, as Aaron hears a hoarse ‘Aaron?’ ringing through the flat.

“I’ve just got back,” Aaron says.

“Where’ve you been?” Robert asks as Aaron walks into the bedroom, groceries still in hand.

“Making a fry-up.”

Robert falls back into bed, a hand over his eyes.

“You really are treating me,” Robert says a few minutes later as he walks into the kitchen in nothing but his boxers. It is quite the sight to behold, even after all this time together.

Aaron shrugs. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Their eyes meet, and Aaron has never known something so fundamentally as the love that floods his chest for this man, the gorgeous mess of a man in front of him. Robert smiles, eyes more wrinkled than they were a few years ago, and Aaron shares it with him until it engulfs them both.

“Coffee?” Robert asks.

“You make the coffee, I’ll make the food.”

They move around each other seamlessly despite the new surroundings, years of routine kicking in.

While the sausages are cooking, Robert wraps his arms around Aaron, pulling him closer, bare chest pressed to Aaron’s back, hips pressed to Aaron’s.

“I’m cooking here,” Aaron says and makes a move to worm his way out of Robert’s grip.

“I’m not bothering you,” Robert counters, holding on.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Shut up,” Robert says into Aaron’s shoulder.  

By the time they get back to the village, the strain in Robert’s shoulder has gone, and he has a light in his eyes that fills his face with happiness.

“Thank you,” he says, leaning forward to press his lips to Aaron’s. They’re warm, soft, and Aaron presses close across the gear stick.

“You’re welcome,” Aaron says.

“Right, you unpack and I’ll sort some tea?”

Aaron smiles, leaning in again to nip at Robert’s lower lip and the kiss turns heated in seconds.

“Or… we can chuck the bags on the sofa and go upstairs?”

Robert grins.

“You are terrible,” he says. Aaron’s grins.

“You can bring up another bottle, if you want.”

Robert rolls his eyes. “You like it now?”

Aaron shrugs. “Maybe I’m learning.”

Maybe it is the dopey grin Robert gets after a glass or two.

It doesn’t matter. All that matters is Robert’s lips on his, the bottle forgotten as they lose themselves in each other.