#but does he secretly just want to toss his sister's baby in the air and make her giggle forever? maybe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whimperwoods · 4 years ago

Text

Part 8 of Gozukk and Anna.

In this installment, many names? Family lore abounds. Anna is only mostly the center of attention, which is probably for the best. I am honestly only partially sure this chapter even counts as whump, but I just needed a nice breakfast and some nice new friends and for Anna to get some new Gozukk context before she has to do more scary things like go talk to a doctor.

The masterpost is here and includes a cheat sheet with all the new names/characters.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past rape/noncon (barely referenced), tw: past abuse,

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Gozukk left a note for the half-elf, pinned to the inside of the tent flap, and let her sleep. He hoped she would wake for breakfast while others were still there for her to meet, but he also knew enough about her wounds, inside and out, to know she needed the sleep if she could get it.

He was talking to Azzor when her head poked tentatively out of the tent flap, glanced uneasily toward him and the others and the fire, and vanished back inside. His heart fell a little, though he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t expected the fear.

Azzor had noticed him watching something, and probably his face falling while he wasn’t thinking about keeping a front up. When he turned his gaze back to his best friend’s face, the general was already rolling his eyes. “Go on, it’s fine. You’ve gotten the key things from my report. I assume you’re staying around camp today?”

Gozukk nodded, looking back over at the tent, and trying to decide how offended he should be that Azzor wasn’t bothering to pretend he couldn’t read him like a book..

“This is that baby hawk all over again,” Azzor said, “Don’t be surprised when you find yourself bleeding even though you’re stronger than her.”

Gozukk’s face slid into a sideways grin. “Which baby hawk?”

“Exactly. It was like you liked having beak-sized gashes all up your arms.”

Something in Azzor’s eyes said he wasn’t upset, just wary, and Goz could live with that. “Anyway,” he answered, “This time, her wings are clipped. You have to acknowledge that’s different.”

“Fear is fear. You can’t expect something that scared and with that many reasons not to trust anther creature to decide you’re the safe thing.”

Gozukk scowled. “She’s not a something. She’s a someone.”

Az sighed. “I know, Gozukk. But elves can be dangerous, too. You know that.”

He did. He did. His face warmed over his cheekbones, and he found he couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes. “I know, Az. It’s just -”

“You’ve never seen a broken wing you didn’t want to splint.”

Azzor sounded resigned more than he did disappointed, something hiding in his tone that told Gozukk they were still alright. A wave of calm washed through him. It was clear, then. It was clear what he was doing, even if all the rest - wasn’t.

As Gozukk stepped away, toward his tent, Azzor reached out and gripped his forearm. “You know I’m only paranoid because someone has to be, right, Goz?”

Gozukk gripped Azzor’s forearm in return. “And you know it’s why I made you General.”

Azzor squeezed his arm before letting go. “Go on, Mama Bird.”

“Papa Bird.”

“You’re never winning that one.”

Gozukk made a vague, dismissive noise and tried to hold onto the hope of the morning. There was breakfast. People were well-rested. The humans from yesterday were still a problem, but nothing new was looming over today. It was going to be a good day. It was.

Anna was still just inside the tent flap when he opened it, and she immediately flinched away from him, hard, one hand moving instinctively upward as if she might need to protect herself from being hit.

He wanted to reach for her shoulder, but he shouldn’t, and his body stiffened as he resisted the impulse. She took a half-step backward, bobbing her head into a series of quick half-bows. “Oh, umm... I’m sorry Sir - Mr. Gozukk - I’m - I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” he said softly, “I knew you were here, just didn’t realize you were still at the door.” He reached forward and brushed her hair behind her ear, never quite touching her head, and was pleased to find the little bobs stopping, even if she didn’t seem much calmer.

He pushed the tent flap open farther and stepped inside, moving around her with a few extra inches space to spare.

As soon as the flap closed, blocking out the morning sun, it was harder to hold onto the hope that today would be better. But then, it didn’t have to be, did it? It just needed to not be worse.

He dropped down into a comfortable squat, rather than making her look up, and her eyebrows raised in surprised as he peered at her face from below.

Her hands fluttered anxiously in front of her. “Oh - I -”

He held his hands out, hoping she’d give him hers and stay standing, rather than collapsing again. It was worth a try, anyway, and if she did fall down to her knees, at least he was already close enough to make eye contact.

“Oh!” she said again, softer this time. She placed her hands tentatively into his, her cheeks brightening into a blush.

Her hands were so small in his, immediately swallowed up even by his loosest, gentlest grasp. The bandages around her palms did a little bit to camouflage the narrow palms, but couldn’t disguise the delicacy of the slender, shaking fingers resting against his palm.

He held her hands as gently as he could manage. “Anna,” he began seriously, “I need you to listen to me, and I need you to tell me the truth. We have time, and there is no rush. Are you ready to meet people, or would you like me to bring breakfast in here?”

Her breathing shallowed, and her eyes started darting around, frightened, but she didn’t have much of anywhere else to look, not with him squatting down to look at her from under her hair, and not when she couldn’t twist away without pulling her hands out of his (admittedly loose) grip.

She blushed harder. “I can do it, Mas-” she flinched, her eyes blinking closed for a second and then meeting his fully as she corrected herself, big and pleading. “Gozukk. I can do it . . . Gozukk.” Her voice trailed away to near silence, and he decided she’d been stressed out enough. He gave her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze and then stood back up.

“Excellent. We’ll get you some breakfast over by where Djaana’s sitting, so you’ll have a familiar face nearby. I’ll tell the kids not to bother you.”

“Th-Thank you . . . Gozukk.”

She still seemed to be struggling with his name, but allowed him to usher her out of the tent, holding the flap open for her.

The adults in the camp made a point of not staring, in spite of the curiosity in their passing glances, but the children gawped openly, and Anna shrank closer to his side, pulling in on herself.

It felt good for her to cringe closer rather than farther away, as much as he didn’t like watching her stay so afraid. Fear is fear, Azzor had said, and backed into a corner, he was right, but Anna was a person and not a bird, and he had to hope for better.

Djaana smiled at both of them as they approached, her youngest, still just a toddler, ducking behind her calves and peering out at Gozukk and the stranger.

“How’s your back feeling this morning?” Djaana asked, her tone casual, as though this were a normal morning chat. “Mukzod is back in camp if you’d like a healer to take a look. You can go with Dumul, when he goes to train.”

Gozukk’s oldest nephew raised a hand, waving in Anna’s direction. “That’s me.”

Anna dropped into a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.”

Dumul bowed back without rising from his feet, a deep polite nod. Gozukk’s heart warmed. Dumul and his cousin had both been a handful lately, insisting on taking new responsibilities and getting away from home, both of them only recently grown into their limbs, so that Gozukk still imagined them as lanky adolescents and was surprised when they came into view and weren’t.

Beside Dumul, Enzah rose to her feet, moving carefully and slowly toward him and Anna to avoid startling the girl, apparently having been briefed on the girl’s terror even though she’d been gone with the scouts yesterday. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, well-carved wooden comb.

“Hey, Anna,” she said gently, “My aunt told me about you. I went with some scouts yesterday to find the campsites the caravan used before, and I thought this might be yours.”

Anna backed up slightly, almost bumping against Gozukk’s side. “Oh! Um, n-no ma’am. I’m - that was - part of the cargo.”

Her face had paled a little, and Gozukk could feel her shaking just inches from him.

“Thank you, Enzah, that was kind,” he said, “Why don’t you keep it as spoils?”

She grinned, something in the expression reminding him painfully of his late brother as she did, but he needed to stay in the here and now.

“I’m not a very good medic yet,” Dumul said, “But if you’d like me to look at your hand before you eat, I can try a small healing spell. Elder Mazogga says I should focus more on slow medicine before I learn the fast way, but a little magic can’t hurt.”

Anna’s hand closed into a fist as she pulled her hand closer to her chest, almost as if on instinct.

Dumul held his hands up, palms toward her, “Or if you’re not ready, that’s fine, too. I know Uncle’s had enough battle wounds to dress them well.”

“Better than you,” Djaana commented affectionately, “You should have listened to Mazogga.”

Dumul nodded deeply, conceding the point, but they all knew they couldn’t really regret him choosing to do healer’s training first, before medicine. Enzah stretched, letting her shirt ride up to reveal the messy scar across her stomach where she’d nearly been disemboweled a few months ago, and Gozukk felt a familiar small spike of fear as he thought about the fact that she’d been allowed to go scouting again with the rest of her training cohort, even to a place as safe as an abandoned camp.

Mel had been peering out from behind her mother’s legs with more and more confidence as they all stood still, and finally tugged on Djaana’s hand, “I go Uncle Gokukk?” she asked in a whisper that wasn’t really a whisper.

“Why don’t you go see if Uncle Gozukk wants to see you?” Djaana answered back.

The girl’s eyes brightened and she took off running on her chubby little legs, closing the distance between them so fast Gozukk barely had time to squat down and open his arms to catch her. She shrieked with giggles as he scooped her up and tossed her into the air, only to catch her again and hold her steady this time, plenty aware that baby cuddles didn’t last forever.

Mel buried her face against his shoulder and peered sideways at Anna, who seemed to have calmed down a little, too.

“Anna, this is my niece Mel. Mel, can you say hi to Anna?”

The toddler looked up and waved at the half-elf, but then buried her face back in his shoulder, suddenly shy. He laughed. “Good job, Mel. Do you want to let Anna say hi, too?”

Mel turned her head to the side to look at Anna and the half-elf spoke quickly, still clearly on edge. “Oh! Hi, Mel. I’m - I’m Anna.”

He introduced her to everyone around the circle, explaining that Jak was off with a friend, but she’d seen him yesterday, and his brother-in-law was away on a long hunt, back in a few days.

Finally, he settled her down in a spot by the fire next to Enzah. Usually, he’d have said Dumul was the less intimidating of the two, but he knew Anna was wary of men. It was reassuring when Enz immediately started talking to her in a calmer, softer voice than usual, offering her food and fussing over her a little bit, more like Djaana than like her late father. He smiled softly and relaxed. She’d always been a good girl, and he knew he could trust her to try her best, even if assuaging people’s fears wasn’t exactly her strongest skill.

He moved around the camp, talking briefly with various groups of people, but with half an eye on Anna the whole time, never straying too far to get back to her quickly if he needed to.

By the time Mel was wiggling to be let down and he had to return to his sister, it was clear both that his family was happy to accept Anna, and that it was a little overwhelming for her. She’d eaten, though he couldn’t imagine Enzah hadn’t been a little harsh about forcing the issue if Anna had been as reluctant as yesterday. Her arms were back around her middle, and something in her eyes looked half-dazed, her body hunched small next to his niece’s casual lanky sprawl.

Sending Mel toddling back to her mother, he crouched down beside Anna, whose brown-green eyes met his immediately this time, half desperate. He brushed her hair behind her ear again, a quick gesture of reassurance. “One more stop, and then I think you probably need more rest. Djaana’s not wrong. A visit to the healer or the midwife wouldn’t go amiss, now that you’re settled in a little bit.”

Anna’s eyes teared up and she started shaking again, eliciting a glare from Enzah he could feel burning into the side of his face, as if there were anything he could do about this.

He patted his niece casually on the shoulder as he rose to his feet, then offered a hand to Anna to help her up.

She took it immediately, quick enough this time to surprise him, though not unwelcomely. He guided her to Mukzod’s tent without quite touching her elbow, aware even without making contact that she was trembling again, but this time as she walked close to him, she at least seemed to be staying close, rather than trying to disappear into his side entirely, which seemed like a good sign.

“Before we go in to the tent,” he said gently, “I need you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. Mukzod heals with help from the gods, and I can promise you he won’t call down any kind of magic to hurt you. But if you’re afraid, you don’t have to be healed at all. I just also want to make sure there’s no kind of tracking magic or curse on you. And if that’s all he does, that’s alright.”

Anna nodded, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes, looking down at the ground instead, and he didn’t know whether to believe her. Either way, it was best to remove the bandage quickly. He nodded back to her and called into the tent for Mukzod’s permission to enter.

#d&d whump #past abuse tw #past slavery tw #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #might make a masterpost and a family tree/character list #bc at this point that seems useful #i knew he had 2 nieces and 2 nephews but i did not know djaana's oldest was gonna be a doctor #what a nice surprise #dumul is an extremely good boy #also the cousins are 3 days apart so people were calling them 'the twins' even before her parents died and haven't exactly stopped #no one will ever challenge gozukk to take over leadership because he is a force to be reckoned with in battle #but does he secretly just want to toss his sister's baby in the air and make her giggle forever? maybe #his niblings keep growing up on him and it's tragic

29 notes · View notes

lcksndkys · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: JJK x reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst

Word count: ~8k

Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer.

Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman and @wwilloww for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3

There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days.

You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.

Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.

[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.

[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.

You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble.

[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill b home

You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man.

Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him.

You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love.

With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.

_______________________________________________

Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace.

Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance.

You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth.

Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window.

The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away.

Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits.

Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.

“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo.

Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away.

“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”

“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp.

His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you.

“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.

“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.

You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger.

“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn.

Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.

“Come closer” you plead.

When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.

His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him.

“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.

Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.

Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress.

When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you.

You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years.

Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook.

"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him.

"Listen" he replies softly.

You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.

“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?"

You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did.

You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.

"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall."

You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out.

"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it."

There's a few moments of pause.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly.

Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."

You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own.

Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.

Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you.

“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves.

“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm.

“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”

Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault.

“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp.

Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console.

_______________________________________________

After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass.

“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh.

“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink.

Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.

“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.

Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction.

You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?”

Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned.

You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.

Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.

You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”

Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”

You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.

“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip.

“But-”

“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”

You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.

“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”

You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.

When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again.

Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin.

“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”

You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.

“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.

Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants.

Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.

“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.

You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.

Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing.

As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.

“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.

Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.

“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.”

Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.

Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him.

Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.

“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.

“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.

He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.

“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.

Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine.

You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.

“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation.

“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.

“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you.

You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.

You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.

Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs.

“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch.

You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately.

“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.

Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts.

“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.

Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.

Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.

“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most.

Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.

Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy.

The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking.

“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy.

You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection.

“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.

“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat.

You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans.

“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour.

“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release.

“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.

“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential.

“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.

“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.

Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs.

You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air.

Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat.

“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.

No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.

“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm.

Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.

Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.

“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs.

“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him.

Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes.

Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare.

“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.

Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.

Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep.

Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours.

He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart.

“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”

“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street.

“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either.

“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”

You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.

“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.

Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria.

Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure.

“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end.

“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high.

Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.

“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.

Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble.

Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.

It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far.

“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.

Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms.

_______________________________________________

When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower.

You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.

You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence.

"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.

#Jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #jjk x reader #drummer jungkook au #husband au

983 notes · View notes

wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

Text

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield,

Brother!Parker Holland x Sister!Rosie Holland

-Warnings: Blood, language, angst, fluff, sadness, possible death

-Words: 2.5K

A/n: I’m sorry its short but, I ended it where I feel like I needed to end it to make people wait.

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Words: 2.5K

All that could be felt was immense pain. A feeling of death. Tom’s head was throbbing as warm thick liquid streaked across his forehead. His head collided with the door as the copter tossed and turned.

He awoke to the thick, pungent smell of gasoline and to you, paralyzed next to him. It took a minute for him to gather his bearings. The pilot was missing, either he flew out when you crashed or went for help, who knows. Everything started to come back to him, the moments before you both crashed replaying in his head.

The pilot shouting, “MAYDAY! MAYDAY! DOES ANYONE COPY! This is flight number 514 and we are going down.”

“Tom!” “Y/N!”

And you screaming “TOM? WHAT'S HAPPENING?” “I don’t know.” He said pulling you into his arms.

It all happened so fast. First, alarms started going off within the cabin. Then, the pilot started to loose control. Twisting and turning the wheel. The helicopter did somersaults through the air. Tom could see the look on your face, a look of pure terror as the engine started to give out. You all quickly lost altitude and braced for the impact.

You and Tom’s last words were exchange of “I love you”s.

There was no soul in sight for miles, except you. Only the bright blue sky and the mountains of Montserrat. Tom didn’t know why the copter’s engine gave out 17,000 feet in the air. All he knows as you were stranded, with no sense of getting home.

The windows to helicopter were smashed, glass shards littered the floor of the cabin and the blades were deep into the ground. He was lucky the pilot didn’t fly straight into a mountain. There was no sign of the pilot, maybe he parachuted before you crash landed leaving you and Tom to your deaths. Tom didn’t know what to think. His only focus was making sure you were okay.

If it weren’t for the current predicament and the blood dripping down your face, he would have thought you were only sleeping, you looked so peaceful.

He tried to pry himself out of his seatbelt, eventually ripping it so he could get to you. Urgently checking for your pulse. Pressing two fingers below your jaw and against your neck. He was able to breathe again, once he found the faint beat of your heart.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Wake up, darling.” Tom yelled, shaking you violently.

“Tom? What happened?” Your eyes opened abruptly, confused by your surroundings. “Our helicopter crashed—.”

“Tom, you’re bleeding.” “Not as bad as you. We have to get you out of here. Here, I’ll carry you.” You only nodded in response as Tom tucked his arms under your knees and pulled you close to his chest.

Laying you down near some rocks as far away from the ticking time bomb, the helicopter. It could blow any second, but it never did. The smoke would create the perfect signal but to no avail.

“Tom, your leg!”

“Like I said, it’s not that bad. Oh my god… your stomach” “My what… oh.” You said as you stared at the gapping puncture wound in your right side.

“Is there a first aid kit?” Tom asked. “I think it probably got lost while we were flying.”

“What happened to the pilot?” You questioned. “I don’t know. I can’t find him.” Just nodding in response. Trying not to cry at the situation. You were stranded with no sign of help any time soon.

“Y/N, I need to stop your bleeding… I have an idea. Where is your carry on bag?”

“I put it under my seat” you called out, as Tom searched for it. Opening its contents in search of fairly useful items.

Tom found a hoodie, make up remover that was 70% alcohol, antibacterial wipes, a handheld mirror, and a bunch of makeshift medical items. Your phones had been thrashed, barely working even though there was no signal. He tore the hoodie up and wrapped the pieces around your torso, almost like a tourniquet and bandage to keep pressure and stop the bleeding.

“Ahh,” you screamed, the pain unbearable as he tied the cloth tightly. “I’m sorry,” Tom apologized profusely.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Now, I have to take care of you,” you said, wiping the blood off of Tom’s.

“No, you need to rest. The kids need you alive more than they need me.” “Don’t say that. They love you and they need both of us alive and well, so let me take care of your leg.”

“Alright, even after a helicopter crash you are still bossy” Tom said chucking.

“Not trying to pick a fight here… I’m sorry but this is gonna sting,” You explained, about to clean his gash.

“It’s ok… aahhh” Tom hissed at the stinging sensation from during makeup remover on the cut on his leg.

“Bet you loved that. A way to get back at me for whatever I did that made you so mad at me,” Tom jabbed.

“You know what you did.” “Y/N this is not the time or the place for this discussion and no I don’t.”

“Let’s just get home alive and then we can resume our fight.”

“You said I love you,” Tom mumbled.

“What?”

“When we were going down… you said I love you. Did you mean it?” “Of course I meant it, Tom. We’ve been together for almost 17 years. How could I not love you?” You cried as Tom pulled you into his warm embrace. Even with the harsh breeze he was still warm to the touch.

“I love you too, darling. We will get out of this, I promise.” Tom asserted and you nodded, trying not let the tears fall.

What killed Tom was the uncertainty of it all. He had to have hope, something you were lacking. He had to have faith that you both would be rescued. That you would get to hold Parker and Rosie in your arms again.

Tom knew you would be okay and rise out of this like a Phoenix from the ashes. Overtime, Tom grew to believe you were indestructible. Everything that you had survived was a marvel. Surviving being tortured by a rival mob, almost dying in childbirth, and now a helicopter crash. There was no, if. You had to survive this. It was hard to have hope when he saw how fast you were deteriorating.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tom asked. Concerned as he noticed your breaths becoming more and more labored.

“I think so, my chest hurts though. It’s getting harder to breathe.” You said, before breaking into a fit of coughs, coughing into your hand. Panic started to arise as small increments of bloods stained your hand.

“Baby, you have to stay with me. Think about Parker and Rosie,” Tom whispered.

“Y/N, we both need to stay awake,” Tom pleaded. “I know, it’s just getting harder to,” you said, your eyes begging to close.

“I know baby. But, Parker and Rosie are waiting for us to come home. They need you Y/N, just like do,” Tom said, cupping you cheek and moving towards you, so you were side by side. Allowing you to rest you head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. For the past weeks, I’ve been so lonely in our bed without you. I’m so sorry that I accused you of cheating.”

“I am too, love. Never in a million years would I cheat on you. You have to know that. I’m so lucky to have you. I never slept with or even kissed Jazz, there’s been someone killing my men at the mob —.” He said, kissing your temple. This kiss was one of longing, he just wanted you to be his again.

“Shh, it’s ok. I don’t want the last words I ever hear to be an explanation of your supposed infidelity.” You said, using the last of energy to let out a strained laugh.

“Y/N, baby you’re not dying ok? You can’t die. Just promise me, you’ll stay awake until help comes,” Tom begged. He couldn’t lose you, not after everything that has happened. He needed you and he always will. “You know I don’t like making promises I can’t keep” you whispered, trying like hell to stay awake as a few tears fell.

It felt like hours, the waiting. The sun had set. Tom had a plan to get you both rescued, when a plane or helicopter flew overhead he would use your compact mirror to reflect the sun. Granted it was a brilliant idea when the sun was still out. If you wouldn’t succumb to your wounds by morning the temperature would certainly kill you both. You had lost all color in your face, looking like a ghost.

You weren’t unconscious but you weren’t very talkative either, which scared the life out of Tom.

Each hour Tom’s hope would fade. He never wanted it to end like this. He demanded he be the one who went first. Tom couldn’t imagine what a world without you would look like.

If it had to be this way, killed, both your prime at least he was holding you in his arms. He was close enough to the point where, if it happened, he could hear your breathing stop along with the beating of your heart. Feeling you tiny labored breaths against his neck.

5 hours, Tom had been holding you, praying you survive, praying he survives along with you.

5 hours and he was ready to give up as he saw you drift off slowly towards a deep sleep. “I’ll see you on the other side, darling” he whispered before letting his eyes flutter to a close.

Back home, everyone was secretly panicking inside. Nikki couldn’t imagine losing her eldest son, neither could Harry and Sam losing their brother. Harry had left to be a part of the search and rescue team. As soon as Paddy got word, he was on the first flight out of Monte Carlo. Dom and all the boys were really trying to keep it together for Rosie and Parker’s sake.

They all had left the news on, praying that it would be announced that you and Tom were found, alive and well. Most of the news updates were irrelevant to the Hollands. They had already known, there was a pilot, even though Tom had been taking flying lessons for years and was skillful at it. They also already knew you were on a business trip. Nothing was really news to them anymore.

“I’m going to make some tea. Anybody want a cup?” Nikki asked, needing a distraction from the chaos. “Yes,” replied Rosie. “Please,” responded Parker. “That’d be wonderful darling,” said Dom. “Just what the doctor ordered. Let me help you with that,” said Sam. They were all big fans of a cup of tea. What couldn’t tea fix?

DING DONG

Rang the door bell. Nobody was really up for visitors but, I would be rude to not answer. Hoping it not some nosy reporters trying to get a story from broken family members of you and Tom.

“Rosie could get that, please?” Nikki called from the kitchen.

“Sure Grandma,” Rosie replied somberly. Opening the door to the last person she expected to see but the first person she wanted to see. After her parents, of course.

“I just came to see if you were okay. My dad is doing everything he can through the business side… I know you need your space. This was a mistake, I’ll go.” Henry said, staring at the ground. “Please, stay,” Rosie muttered, teary-eyed from all the crying.

“You mean it?”

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Hey, come here. They’ll be okay.” Henry said, wrapping his arms around her. Oh god, how missed comforting her.

“Henry, I’m so scared. What if we can’t find them?”

“Roo, we will find them. You have to have hope.” “I keep thinking we find them, but they’re dead.” “You can’t think like that,” he said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“I missed you. Thanks for being here, you’re a nice distraction” “I’ll always be here,” he whispered, cut off by Rosie’s lips against his. It didn’t take long for him to kiss back. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to miss it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Rosie said, pulling away.

“No, I’m sorry. I really screwed up. I never should’ve broken up with you. I love you too much, Rosie Louise Holland. Take me back?”

“I’ve always loved you, Henry Maxwell Osterfield. Of course,” reassured Rosie. Capturing his lips once more in a more passionate yet gentle kiss. “Wait, I have something for you,” Henry stopped, pulling out something from his back pocket.

“That is, if you still want it,” he explained, holding you the silver charm necklace adorned with a H and a R. “Duh, div. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rosie quipped as he clasped the necklace together. “There. Now it’s back in its rightful place,” she said, the biggest smile adorning her face. “Rosie, get in here! There’s an update,” called Parker from the living room.

Rosie pulled Henry through foyer and to the family room for the news. She tensed at the thought of the words “2 DEAD” displaying across the silver screen.

“We’ve just got word that both Tom and Y/N have been found. We are unaware of their condition. They are being airlifted to a hospital in Barcelona. Hopefully we can update you on that once families members have been informed. The pilot is still missing. Please stay with us as we continue to update you on this story,” announced the newscaster. Everyone rejoiced, there were no longer sad tears only happy ones. They were all on the first flight out including Harrison and Henry.

It was miracle, they found you when they did. Harry was part of team in rescuing you and Tom. He refused to sleep until he brought you both back home.

“We found them!” A loud speaker sounded from the chopper flying above. The rescue was eminent, you and Tom were found.

“Get two stretchers over here,” called one of the rescuers.

“Tom? Can you hear me? It’s Harry,” Harry said, trying to wake Tom.

“Harry?” Tom whispered, slightly stirring awake.

“Yes, you’re saved. We got you and we are on our way to the hospital.”

“What about Y/N? She’s lost a lot of blood. Please tell me she’s ok,” Tom pleaded, eyes barely even open.

“They got her in the other chopper. She’s gonna be ok, I promise,” Harry stammered.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom whispered before being consumed by darkness.

A/n: I just want to apologize here, I'm sorry. I'm so in love with this chapter and couldn't wait to share it with all of you.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist:@thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom x reader #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x mob!reader

69 notes · View notes

1zashreena1 · 4 years ago

Text

Angst Fluff Whiplash -14

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: What does an apex predator do after confessing undying love? Princess is about to find out.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Non-descriptive sexytimes, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, This one is all feels and

I Am So NOT Sorry.

THE TIME HAS COME

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

"I don't know, Lisa. He won't tell me. Not until this weekend apparently? We're supposed to go shopping."

"Honestly, I'm scared. I mean, there's the whole how did he get a passport FOR me dilemma. Then the part where he knows I don't like surprises. And he said he was calling my sister!"

"Oh my God, she could tell him anything! Please don't tell him about the Backstreet Boys phase. I'm going to have a panic attack."

"Of course he would tease me about it for eternity!"

"What? Watch what words? What are you talking about?"

"Do not hang up this phone! Do you even love me?!? Lisa? …. Hello?"

You toss your phone down on the bed and heave a huge sigh. Your very own BFF, abandoning you like that. Luckily its your own phone and not the insane cell Diego got you because it bounces off the other side of the bed and smacks into the wall before admitting total defeat to gravity.

You stand there staring at your open suitcase. Your typical items are in there already. You don't need any toiletries. Or makeup, now. Or bras. Or underwear. Fucking hell, its like I already moved into the penthouse with him.

�� Could I do that? He already basically asked for it. He keeps telling me to quit my job and let him spoil me for real. You wring your hands together while rubbing your lips against each other and being bombarded with intrusive thoughts. Yeah. Until he's done with me and then I have to start all over. At 35.

But its been almost a year now that you've been seeing Diego. What does that even mean, "seeing" him? You think about how the last few months have been so… easy. He practically lives in New York now, their territory split. He opted to control the East Coast and let his sister deal with the logistical nightmare of receiving the imports.

He has been a lot looser since then. Faster to laugh, quicker to goof around, less likely to do anything as hard as he used to do. The distance from Alicia has allowed him to really flourish in every aspect. And he's beautiful with it. The laugh lines and the soft brown eyes wreck you every time.

He says he wants to keep you. Take care of you. You finally believe that he loves you. He has made so many improvements in communication. Hell, he read books on how to be with someone on the spectrum. Do you understand it? Hell no. Are you going to take it and run? Fuck yeah dude. I love him and I want to keep him.

And now he wants to take you on a trip. A surprise destination. Out of the country with a mostly legal passport. You don't doubt that you'll be safe with him. Your parents were a little concerned when you told them since they've never even met him. And they saw him on the national news that time he got arrested by the Feds, so that really inspires confidence.

Your middle sister Lynne and niece Halley accidentally met him that one afternoon about a month back. And they have not shut up about it since. Diego this, Diego that, blah blah blah, paid the restaurant bill in cash, yadda yadda, took us all shopping to a Coach store and then got Halley some crazy new sold out Nikes. Diego had been delighted to be surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls enjoying his spoiling attentions. Just like always, Diego went to the max and charmed them silly.

It was like having an out of body experience to see Diego with them. You couldn't really fault them, he swept you off your feet with no problems. He was grinning and joking the whole time, making raunchy comments with your sister and encouraging your niece to be assertive (unnecessary according to her soccer coach and the 'Most Aggressive' trophy). He fit right in with them. Afterwards he had asked if that was what it was like to have normal siblings and your heart broke thinking about what his childhood had been like with his sister.

Which brought you back to the here and now. He had mentioned off hand that he was going to call your sister. Maybe you should text her. She might know something.

Maybe you should just pack your bag and trust him.

Your Diego Cell chirps and you dive for it on the nightstand. Is he okay? Please don't be hurt.

Its a pic of him. In the shower. With his own hand wrapped around himself. You choke on air and have to sit down.

I miss you Princess

Holy. Shit. Its been almost a year that you have had unrestricted access to that incredible body and your reaction is still the same. Before you can respond another text arrives:

SOON

The attached pic is just from squinty eyes up.

You burst out laughing at him. You love that he is secretly a nerd about internet stuff. His appearance would never give that away. Time to be ridiculous right back.

Don't make me lick your eyeball

You are a crazy person laughing to yourself alone in your bedroom.

You are so weird

Yet there you are, lusting after this weirdo

You shoot back.

… Am I the weirdo??

No. Still you.

I would threaten to bite it.. but you would like that

Well now you have to

Oh my God. You're fairly certain you could do anything to this man and he would think it was sexy. Its a novel experience.

Can we eat dinner at home tomorrow? I don't feel like wearing a real bra

You know the answer to that.

YES. NO MORE BRAS EVER AGAIN. BE FREE

… no panties?🙏🥺

You can see the hopeful puppy dog eyes clearly.

A for effort babe. One of these days you might get your wish lol

...Are you panty free right now?

Wow. He is really trying here.

I'm packing.

Your pic is a heap of tangled thongs dumped on top of Tiny Murder Panther.

💜🔥😛

He would find that hot. Fucking nympho.

Lemme finish this so I can go straight to the airport tomorrow

Fine. But I am pouting

You do not doubt that.

Don't care. Still love your stupid face

You cannot believe you just sent that.

Princess.

Mi amor.

Diego's good little girl.

You shudder with the praise. You can hear it in his voice, as if he were right here with you.

I love you

Dream of me?

Oh baby, if you only knew. You sigh wistfully.

Always, baby

---------------‐---------

The flight is uneventful, thankfully. Your maxidress with a built-in shelf bra is stupidly comfortable and you actually take a nap.

The plane has barely come to a stop and you already have on your silly lambswool lined Ugg flip flops. You had argued with Diego about these (Why would flip flops need a warm fuzzy lining??) but he had won by sticking one in your face and ordering you to feel. It didn't take a full second for you to snatch them both from him and cuddle them to your chest. His pleased smile full of dimples was worth all the subsequent teasing.

You slip on one of his previously stolen shirts in a metallic lilac color and roll up the sleeves so you have use of your hands. Bending at the waist, you flip your hair over and fluff it back up from the nap. What was that he had said? Oh yes: Wild and thick, just how I like it. The memory makes you bite your bottom lip and smile.

Bastian is waiting for you on the tarmac. He takes your bag and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. "Hey, sweetie. Nice shirt, is that new?" His knowing grin is infectious.

You nuzzle into the collar with a laugh. "Thanks! My boyfriend gave it to me."

Bastian chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you. "Oh, honey. That is not all he is going to give you." He closes the door while you roll your eyes smirkingly.

The ride to the penthouse is uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Friday evening rush hour traffic can be in New York.

Bastian waits until the song is over before lowering the stereo volume. "We're supposed to pick up dinner. Any requests?" He drums his fingers on the steering wheel while you sit at the red light.

You ponder the options. "What kind of a day has he had? Meetings? Tours? Disciplinary action?" You ask Bastian thoughtfully. Sometimes when Diego has a bad day he likes comfort food. Mostly a giant heap of rice and beans next to homemade tortillas, he isn't so picky about the variety of meat.

Bastian glances at you out of the corner of his eye before warily answering, "There was a… termination… at a construction site this afternoon that took longer than expected. That's why he didn't come to get you, he wanted to shower first."

You keep your eyes focused forward to look out of the windshield. "Okay. How about Jalisco's then?" Comfort food it is.

Bastian nods and adjusts course to obtain those tortillas.

‐--------------------

The instant the elevator doors ding open Diego pops up from the sectional and comes straight at you. Your giant sidestep to let Bastian pass is barely completed before Diego is slipping those big hands under his own pilfered shirt to crush your body to him. Your arms go around his neck like a reflex, like this is their natural resting place. He leans his forehead down onto yours and kisses you so very gently.

"Mmmm. Hi." You murmur softly into his beard. Those bottomless brown eyes look over your entire face before coming back to your own. His smile is huge, those dimples make your pulse trip. He blinks slowly down at you, just like the big cat you nicknamed him after.

"Princess. How was the trip?" He always asks you this. You still aren't sure if its just culturally specific manners or if he is requesting a review of the flight crew's performance. Either way, your answer is always the same.

You pull him back down so you can cuddle into his neck. "Its better now that I'm here." He rubs his cheek against your own and purrs directly into your ear in response. Your body's reaction is immediate and decisive. You shiver in his arms and your nipples peak to full attention.

Except this time is different. With only a bralette and the dress's shelf bra Diego can clearly feel what just happened in real time. His eyes are comically round as he peers down at your cleavage in pleasant wonder.

"Oh. I like this outfit." His hands rise up your back to crush you further into him. You chuckle and rub your chest on his firm pectoral muscles. He watches hungrily as your compressed decolletage rises higher yet from the added pressure. "New rule to match the bedroom pants bar, no bras in the penthouse. Fucking magnificent, bonita." He licks his lips after making this proclamation.

You throw your head back and laugh joyfully.

‐----------------------

As it always does the weekend passes too quickly. Its already 1:00pm on Saturday when you two finally come down from the bedroom.

Diego is delighted to hear that your time-off request was approved for the trip. You had told him not to worry about it, your boss always kept her word about this stuff.

That’s when he pulls a ridiculous pith hat out from under the couch. It looks like it came straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon about a big game hunt on the African savannah. You lose your entire shit and laugh until you do that silent clapping seal move.

Diego keeps repeating, "Wait, stop laughing. Stooooop." But he isn't faring much better. You finally wipe the tears and calm down enough to take it from his limp fingers while he chortles a few last times.

"Baby. What. What the fuck. What fucking is this??" You plunk the hat on your own head and Diego collapses facedown into your lap to gigglesnort uproariously. "Stop. Stop laughing. Stoppit!" You smack the back of his head lightly until he comes up for air.

He closes his eyes and composes himself. You take the opportunity to plop the hat on his head.

"Oh my god, that is so sexy!" You declare in high dramatics.

He grabs your hands and leans in very close to explain. "You need this hat for our trip." Your eyes narrow in suspicion. "You will wear it for our safari quest…" he pauses for dramatic effect and your lips twitch in suppressed amusement. He leans closer yet and captures your stare. His face is hilarious, you can tell he is biting his cheek to keep from laughing. His eyebrows are drawn down in concentration but his eyes are widened in mock excitement. He sucks in a deep breath to exclaim, "To locate palm trees in the wild!"

He laughs as he puts the hat back on you.

You blink a few times in shock. Palm trees? You're going somewhere with palm trees? A tropical locale. Palm trees. Beaches. SWIMSUITS. Your sudden panic must show on your face because Diego's laughter dies off.

You blink furiously, but its too little too late. The tears burn as they well up in your eyes and spill down over your cheeks.

He reaches out to cup your face. "Princess?" His tone is an even mix of concern and fear. "Bicki? What?"

You shake your head 'no' and throw yourself into him. Diego catches you and hauls you into his lap. You curl up against his chest and sob quietly. He pets over your hair, open handed strokes so his fingers don't tangle in the curls, and soothes your back while you shake. Rubbing his nose against your temple, he kisses your cheek and whispers, "Do you want to write?" His gentle care only makes you worse. "...so that is no." He looks crestfallen. He buries his face in your hair and breathes heavily.

Your tears are slowing and your chest is finally beginning to loosen. "Dieg-" you hiccup, wrapping both hands around his forearm. You wheeze a few times before trying again. "I. I. Where? Where are we g-going?"

He sighs deeply before answering. "Nowhere. I won't take you somewhere you don't want to go. I should have known better. I-" He snaps his jaw shut so fast that his teeth click together.

Tilting your head back, you try to catch his eyes. Diego won't look at you. "H-hey, please." You cup his jaw and pull him down to you. He comes, but the motions are stilted. "Look. Please, baby. Let me s-see you."

When he finally meets your eyes it breaks your heart. That chocolate gaze is disappointed, hurt, frustrated even. You wiggle around until you're straddling his lap. He just holds his hands out of the way, not hindering you but certainly not helping either. Standing up on your knees to lean your forehead against his, you reach for his hands and bring them to your chest where you lace your fingers together.

"Baby. I want that." Your nose rubs against his as you speak. "I want to go everywhere with you. I never thought I would ever get a chance like this. To travel? To go somewhere tropical? To have someone who loves me enough to do this for me?" You're crying again. And so is Diego? A little??

He brings your joined hands up to tap your chin. His face is adorably conflicted when he speaks, "You… want to go?" You nod slowly. His eyebrows lower as he tries to make sense of this. "Then why do you cry? Are they, the uh, is that 'happy tears' ?"

Your hands shake in his. "Yeah. Happy tears. I just. I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." He huffs out a sigh. You continue, "Its almost like the super intense emotions short circuit my responses and I guess my default is panic crying? I don't know."

Diego huffs at you again. "Please stop that. I'm going to have a heart attack." There is a hint of real annoyance in his voice but his lips curl up at the corners.

You free your right hand to reach up and brush his wet lashes. Why did something this little bring him to tears? "Baby, is everything okay?"

He leans into your hand, then turns to kiss your fingers. You giggle, you can't help it, his beard both tickles and delights you. He smirks at you, "It is now, Princess. You should get dressed so we can go."

But you're not done here yet. "Where are we going on the trip? A place name, not foliage that may or may not be present."

His Cheshire cat grin is intriguing and mildly worrisome. He gives you one word, "Xcalak." And then watches while you access your mental map and pinpoint the exact location.

It takes you a moment but you find it with a gasp. "Costa Maya? Like Caribbean-sea side of Mexico??" He nods and you immediately start in with 20 Questions. "Are there cenotes? Is the water really those unreal colors? Is the food amazing there? Can we see ruins?"

Diego cups your face to stop you. "Whatever you like, little girl." With a kiss to your nose and a smack to your ass he ushers you upstairs to get dressed.

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

The shopping is less traumatic than normal for you thanks to Diego making enthusiastic innuendo nonstop and feeding you between stores. You find sandals, and flip flops, and little slip-on sneakers. All kinds of flowy maxidresses and flouncy skirts paired with new tank tops in buttery soft fabrics. Cover-ups and kimonos and huge airy loose knit sweaters get rung up with linen pants and shorts you actually feel comfortable wearing.

But swimsuits? A disaster. Everything that fits your hips is way too big for your ribcage. Tankinis big enough to go around your middle are about a foot too wide around your chest. You try some maternity stuff… amazingly there isn't any chest support. That confuses both of you for almost 20 minutes while you discuss it over croissants and various iced beverages (coffee for him and some kind of hot chocolate slushie for you).

Then you look across the street and inspiration hits. One of the stores you order bras from is right there and has bra-sized swimwear in the display window. Diego turns to see what stole your undivided attention from him and slaps his hand down on the table in celebration.

You aren't sure which one of you is more excited to get into the store. But while you run around exclaiming at all the things that come in your size Diego stands in the doorway and gawks. When you circle back to check on him he just points to one display wall.

There is lacy, frilly, corseted lingerie. In. Your. Size.

He demands one of everything that fits you and isn't red, brown, or yellow. You don't even argue.

The store does alterations and makes very good recommendations. The sales clerk is impressed with Diego's input, she comments that he really does seem to know your body well. You flush with it, glad that he isn't close enough to hear that. You leave with three bags and seven personalized swim outfits under construction. One is ready to wear and you keep reaching into the bag to touch it in wonder.

Diego notices but just gives you a raised eyebrow.

"This is the first time I've ever felt good about how I look in swimwear." You confess quietly.

Diego wraps a massive arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side while you continue down the sidewalk.

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

Sunday is a mess as you try to make pancakes and Diego tries to remain physically attached to you like an excessively attractive barnacle. The pancakes are either burnt or still batter in the middle. Leftover carnitas and tortillas to the rescue. Diego teases you about the kitchen failure all day because this is the first time he has witnessed such a thing.

You doze on the couch under the pretense of "reading". Diego rotates through his laptop, cell, and the soccer match on ESPN+.

Until his phone rings.

You both tense up. Only one person calls him instead of texting. He takes the phone into the office to answer his sister. You wait on the couch to see which Diego you get back: silly tickle fight Diego, sad puppy dog eyes Diego that requires cuddles, or angry Diego that needs to fuck you through the nearest horizontal surface.

The elevator dings and Julio comes in with a tray of coffees. "Ay, Gordita. Buenas tardes. I got you the hibiscus thing you like." He greets you with a big smile, then looks around when he doesn't see Diego on the sectional with you.

Hopping up to help him carry stuff, you point to the office in indication of Diego's location. Julio makes a face, "Hermana perra?" and you simply nod. Julio takes Diego's iced coffee and bites the bullet for you. The door closes softly behind him.

You munch plantain chips and slurp hibiscus lemonade until they come out. Diego just looks tired when he comes back to you on the couch, coffee in hand. You open your arms in invitation and he plops next to you with a sigh. Cuddly Diego it is.

He doesn't tell you anything and you don't ask. Everyone watches the match mindlessly. Diego snores softly in your lap while you pet his hair.

He rides to the airport with you but you forbid him from coming onto the plane with you. He is already making this harder than it has to be with his big brown eyes and clingy hands.

"Baby." You breathe into his hair while he snuggles into your neck in the backseat of the SUV. "Its only a week. We do this every week." You pet down his bicep and immediately regret it.

"I know." Diego huffs into your skin. "Why don't you just quit? Let me take care of everything." You go through this almost every week now, too. He nuzzles you, the sensation makes you reconsider his proposal. You pull his head up by a fistful of soft hair and look him in the eye. He blinks guilelessly at you.

"Number one: No. Number two: Stoppit." He laughs at your fond exasperation. "Okay. I'm gonna go. You stay on the ground."

"Fine." He whines. "But I am going to send you a dick pic the moment that plane takes off." He crosses his arms as if daring you to tell him no.

You cup his stupidly attractive face in your hands for a kiss. Okay, several kisses and 27 minutes later, you respond, "Send me one every day. Its my favorite dick." His startled laugh makes you feel very pleased with yourself.

He pulls you into his arms again to kiss you one last time. His beard scratches and you sigh into him. Finally that tongue retreats and he rests his forehead on yours. His voice is low and rough, his hands squeeze tight on your hip and thigh, "I love you, Princess."

Will that ever stop hurting? You close your eyes against the burn of tears but smile with happiness. "I love you, Diego." You pop the door handle before you open your eyes to see him watching you, jaw tense. You stick your tongue out and he breaks into a smirk. With a laugh, you slide out of SUV and walk to the plane, determined not to look back.

When you get up the stairs the pilot greets you, but his gaze shifts behind you. Turning around, you see Diego standing outside the SUV, arms crossed and trying to look so not soft. You smile and mouth Bye baby, he gives you a short little wave. You duck into the plane before you can start crying.

The wheels are not, in fact, off the ground when the phone chirps.

‐-----------------------

The trip is a few weeks out and there is some kind of emergency at the San Diego docks the next weekend. So. You don't get your Murder Panther fix.

And your coworkers notice. They spend all day Monday strolling past your cubicle, straining their necks to see if you're wearing new shoes or some fresh bling. Finally someone has the nerve to ask how your weekend was.

You find yourself blinking back tears. I miss him so much. This is ridiculous, he just texted you at like six this morning. But its not just the conversation you miss, now is it? You miss that big body crowding you into the corner of the couch. His soft curls under your hands. That beard on literally any inch of your skin. Draping yourself over shoulders wider than your hips and knowing that not only can he take your weight, he likes it.

He says he wants to keep you and you desperately want to keep him. Why do you fear this? Is it just his profession? The risk? Oh god, how do you even go about introducing him to your parents??? Diego can be all kinds of charming but he can be a real asshole, too.

And they know what he is: A criminal. For your boomer parents he is the living embodiment of Public Enemy Number One.

Grand Theft.

Money Laundering.

Arson.

Murder.

International Cocaine Trafficking.

HE IS A LITERAL DRUG LORD.

You lay your head down on your desk and try to keep it together.

Your Diego Cell chirps.

Your laughter bubbles up until it comes out of you without your consent. It turns hysterical and you realize you need to leave the office suite. Now.

In the bathroom you stare down at the phone as it lights up again with another message.

Miss my Princess💔👑

How? How is someone who can do all those illegal things so nauseatingly sweet to me?

And then it hits you. Illegal. You didn't use the word immoral. Illegal. You think back to how everyone you see working directly for him is well into adulthood. No children. There are a few women but they are not being sold by him, they are there by their own free will. And he has never laid a hand on any of them, they're just as comfortable around him as the men are. No sex trafficking. You saw someone give their resignation last month. The dude walked away with a suitcase of cash for a decade of trustworthy service. Its a better retirement plan than what I have.

Have you seen him assault people? Yes. You've seen him stab people. Carve off someone's ear because they weren't listening as assigned and it cost the Jimenez Cartel a shipment. You've seen him push an informant down an empty elevator shaft. Choke a man into unconsciousness with his bare hands when you were disrespected.

And you still love him. Not a single one of those incidents weighs on your conscience. Your morality is a dingy grey 12 year old men's undershirt that you should just throw away but you're definitely going to cut into rags to keep for cleaning when it comes to Diego.

The cell lights up again.

Mi amor 💞😍🍑🏝✈⏲👙

You don't know what's worse: His excessive and ridiculous usage of emojis or the fact that you understood.

Look what came

The attached pic is a few pieces of your new swimwear. They look gorgeous, you can't even tell where the alterations were done.

You have to try on all of them. And show me

Of course he wants his own personal show. You feel desire burning low in your belly. Its been a year and not once has he ever shied away from your stomach rolls or hinted at weight loss. He never questions the food you order. And while the two of you have chuckled about shapewear he has never mocked you for using it. Or seemed disappointed when you opted not to wear it. He tosses you around like its nothing and prefers for you to sleep on top of him. Its not that he loves you despite your weight, he loves it as part of you.

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

Its now Thursday and the desk drawer where you keep your purse at work is vibrating. He knows I'm at work. If he calls right back I'll answer him. You try to keep your Diego Cell out of sight at work or you'll never get anything done. Plus your coworkers are always dying to catch a peek of your infamous sugar daddy/boyfriend.

Yeah. Boyfriend. Keep practicing that. It feels good.

You finish the insurance call and hang up your headset when the vibrating starts again. Your next door cubicle neighbor pops around the divider to advise you to answer that before he comes down here and abducts you.

What deity should I pray to for that??

You snatch Diego Cell and march out to the hall. Poking the green button, you answer the call.

"Baby. You okay?"

"Princess! I… yeah. I'm not hurt."

He sounds odd. There is definitely something going on here.

"What's up? You need me?"

The silence stretches.

"Yes. Please?"

Diego sounds very uncomfortable. It causes you physical pain.

"Well, you have me. What is it?"

You can hear him swallow and in your mind you picture him looking away, hiding some soft emotion shining in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Here. I am here. I just. I just wanted to hear you."

Something is very wrong with my Murder Panther, you think.

"Babe," your voice is soft, you're trying to ease him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He huffs and you can hear him scrape a hand down over his face. "I know you are at work. And I should not have called. But."

His voice trembles, even over the phone you can hear it. He's afraid.

"Diego. If you need me, then you have me. Tell me, baby." You try to be reassuring but you also really need to know what is wrong.

"I would like to come down there." His declaration is overly formal. You wonder who he is trying to impress. Its certainly not me.

"You… want to come down here instead of me going up there this weekend?" You're trying to make sense out of any part of this conversation.

"I…. grrrrrrrrr." He growls in frustration. Between English being his second language and your sensory processing issues, this is not an uncommon occurrence. He sucks in a deep breath and charges forward in an emotional rush. "I know you're working, but I want to come down there because I miss seeing your face." Before you have a chance to answer he adds, "Pick me up? At the airport, after work? Please, Bicki." His voice cracks at the end and his inhalation is ragged. Your heart implodes.

"Diego. Baby. Of course. Of course I will. I can be there by six." You have a mental flash of how dirty your bathroom is, all the clothes you have laying around, and the vacuum you haven't touched in over a month. Diego needing me is more important.

"Good. Good. Yes, I. I will text you. When I land." His voice is raspier than ever, low and gravelly.

"Sure. I'll be there." I'll always be there.

"Okay. You… you should go." You can hear his determination. You can visualize him squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, taking on the Jimenez Cartel persona.

"Hey." He grunts in acknowledgement. "I love you." You blurt it out before you have a chance to talk yourself round in circles. You can hear voices in the background.

"And you. You as well." The call ends, but you know.

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

You're sitting in your car at the little regional airport second guessing the coffee you got when the phone chirps.

Here

Springing out of the car, you wave to the security guard as you trot past. "Hey Jim, I just have to grab someone real quick. That's okay, right?" You wave vaguely back toward your car parked in the fire lane. There are only four security guards who work here and they all know you at this point.

Jim laughs but waves you on. "Go get 'im, sweetie." Jim must be pushing 90 by now, he doesn't care about traffic laws.

You enter one of the two sets of automatic doors on this entire building and cross through the tiny lobby. There. You can see his dark hair and ridiculous shoulders over a completely unnecessary row of potted plants. He must hear your echoing footsteps because his head whips around in alarm, but his face relaxes into a wide smile. He lengthens his strides to come around the stupid plants, hands automatically reaching out for you.

"Diego." You laugh breathily and fling arms around his neck. He smells so good.

He crushes you to his chest and buries his face in your neck. "Printhesss." He murmurs into you, slurred because he refuses to remove his mouth from your skin.

Turning your head to kiss his cheek, you moan shamelessly for him. He surges back upward to capture your lips and kiss you with mild desperation. That devious tongue sweeps over the roof of your mouth before curling up behind your top front teeth.

Your entire world narrows down to Diego. Chocolate. Tastes like the smoothest Belgian chocolate in existence. He smells perfect, clean but definitively male to you. His silky button-down is smooth under your hands, stretched taut over muscle. Those massive hands gather you closer, molding you to that big, solid body. His beard scratches your face in soft tickles when he alters the angle of the kiss just so.

"Goddamn." A woman's voice exclaiming somewhere behind you catapults you back into the here and now. Which is a dinky little regional airport in rural central Pennsylvania. You know, a very public location in a very prudish area of the country. Fuck.

You pull back and Diego's hands shoot up to the back of your head. Holding you in place, he leans his forehead against yours with a contented sigh. He rumbles softly to you, "Take me home."

You feel so silly seeing Diego in the passenger seat of your Corolla, he just seems so out of place. "You can adjust the seat however, nobody really sits there. I just put it all the way back to make sure you can get in without cracking your head." You sound nervous even to your own ears.

Diego turns to you with a response but his attention is captured by the cup holders in the center console, specifically the Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup. He points to it, then looks up at you with a slow grin. "Princess. Is this for me?"

You flush but can't stop the embarrassed little smile so you cover it with sass, "Well, it sure as hell ain't for me." You start the car and give Jim a little wave. He winks and gives you two thumbs up. Yeah, I'm aware that you saw that kiss too, old man. Everyone saw that shit.

When Diego reaches for the coffee his fingers brush your hip. The contact burns and you suddenly remember that you have not touched this beautiful man for well over two weeks. Apparently he remembers, too, because he wraps that huge hand around your thigh with rather a lot of force. Right hand slapping down to cover his, your heart rate jumps through the roof. Did I take my blood pressure pill this morning?

"Don't." You choke out.

He rumbles softly next to you, purring with conceited pleasure. "Did my Princess miss Diego?" He asks you with an incredibly pornographic voice.

"Oh, fuck you." Your answering groan is also obscene. So glad the windows are up.

His hoarse chuckle makes your thighs tremble. "You're Diego's good little girl, you will." He's right and you both know it. You would ride him right here in your own damn car if he demanded it. You have a problem.

He lets you redirect his hand to the coffee with only a little resistance. "Focus." You hiss.

"Me or you?" Diego quips.

"Yes." You declare.

Diego's guffaw is contagious and you don't even try to hold back.

Your apartment always seems like an adequate size until Diego is inside. No, bad Bicki. Do not say it like that. His presence just sort of… lounges about in a vaguely threatening but highly attractive manner. Much like the actual man on your couch. You tried to pick up dinner on the way but he just wanted to 'go home'. You are disgustingly happy that your place feels like home to him.

Diego had flopped on your couch immediately and hasn't moved since. Something is very definitely very wrong. There were bursts of your Murder Panther in the car, but he has been just subdued overall. He had turned your stereo up and smiled faintly, watching you sing along. He had also complained that the stereo in your car sucked (Agreed) and this was unacceptable. You're sure he'll do something ridiculously extravagant to remedy this.

You try to give him the remote, he takes it but doesn't do anything with it. You offer him food, both junk and something home-cooked, all you get is a shrug. You putter around for a while, picking things up and sighing before putting them down somewhere else. His dark eyes watch you, unfathomable.

Finally you disappear to the bedroom only to return in your pajamas. This he likes, perking up and blinking rapidly. "Okay, I know you brought something softer than those jeans, so get comfy so I can order shitty pizza and cuddle you."

His jaw drops in momentary shock. Then he scoffs, "I do not cu--"

You cut him off, "Yes, you do and yes, you're going to. Up. Now." This has to be hilarious. This short little woman in overly long pants barking orders at the massive man who heads an international drug cartel. Well, its either hilarious or fatal. I'm about to find out.

Diego looks around, as if someone else might secretly be here to witness him be a little bit submissive and moderately soft. He raises his chin in a tiny show of defiance. "Fine. But I am showering first." He glares with this proclamation, daring you to contradict him.

You throw your hands up in the air. Why the fuck would I have a problem with that?? His eyes follow your hands, like a cat when you try to point out a bit of food but all it does is rub your finger. You sigh, resigned to your fate. "Of course that's fine, Diego. You know where everything is, have at it."

You watch his butt as he walks away to the bathroom.

The pizza actually isn't shitty and Diego eats half of it by himself. When you offer him the cinnamon dessert sticks he shoots you a calculating look. You split the contents, pulling two sticks over to yourself and piling up the rest in front of him. His delighted grin is decidedly not calculated and you lose track of time watching him enjoy dessert.

He's beautiful like this. He wears a soft, silky t-shirt that is tight enough to help you get through the nights you spend alone. His hair is a riot of fluffy curls, free of product and clearly trying to break free of gravity, too. He hasn't shaved for at least a few days and that salt and pepper beard is filling in nicely. His face is unguarded, expression open, those laugh lines and dimples you love make frequent appearances.

After dinner you lay all over each other in some weird we-have-intimacy-issues approximation of cuddling. It works so you don't question it. He has his laptop and you have your tablet and together you have sporadic conversation. Its comfortable.

Until Diego asks you a seemingly innocuous question that you know is very nefarious:

"What color do you like in cars?"

Your eyes narrow so much that you have trouble seeing. "...Why." Your low tone might be frightening to anyone else.

He looks at you over the laptop screen, brown eyes innocently wide. "Just curious. Your car is green. Do you like any other colors?" He slowly pulls the laptop closer to himself to subtly cover the screen with his bulk.

"Diego." You slowly put down your tablet and start leaning toward him. He has nowhere to go, propped up in the corner of the chaise end of the sofa. "What. Are. You. Doing."

"Will you let me take care of you? Just in this one way right now?" He licks his lips, brow furrowed in concentration. Building desperation shows in his eyes and you can't fight that. You don't want to win this.

"Let me see, baby." Your sighed acquiescence has an instantaneous effect. Diego drops the tension from his shoulders and opens an arm to you in invitation. You crawl up him to cuddle into his chest, wedged on your side between all those muscles and the back of the sectional. From here you are stationed directly in front of the laptop screen.

He is looking at cars.

Armored cars.

Armored, bulletproof, explosive resistant cars.

What. The. Fuck.

"Diego, what the fuck is going on?!?" Your apprehensive demand sets him right back on edge. You can feel him go tense underneath you. The laptop gets shoved onto an empty cushion as you throw yourself over him. Tiny hands land on those broad shoulders with extreme force as you use all of your deadweight to trap him. Below you, Diego shakes but you can't tell if its from anger or anxiety because his eyes are scrunched closed tightly. "Tell me why I need a fucking bulletproof car!"

He surges up into your face to match your volume, "She knows! Mi hermana perra knows about you! Alicia found out about us!" You lurch back in shock, but the steel hands on your hips stop you from retreating. His voice is hoarse, louder than you've ever heard him, and its terrifying. Your fear must show because he releases his grip on you like it burns.

"WHAT?" The ramifications here could truly be lethal. Alicia has already tried to set Diego up to take the fall when they were arrested almost four months ago. You know she has scorned Diego's familiarity with his men in the past, that is why he handpicks them personally. To Alicia, everyone is disposable, even her own brother. Her only loyalty is to herself.

Diego's hands come up in an aborted reach for you. You're still too shocked to move. His face crumbles in agony and he blinks furiously, hands balling into fists. "Everything I have ever wanted she has ensured I never got. She, she manipulates me into destroying everything I touch. I will not let her hurt you! I refuse to allow her to break us, mi amor!!" His volume has steadily escalated until he is yelling.

He's afraid. He is afraid that he will lose me. The realization emboldens you enough to take his hands in your own, bring them to your chest, and press them close to your heart. You trust that he won't hurt you in his rage. You don't fear him, this dangerous, powerful, ruthless man that you love.

His hands open to slide up your shoulders, curl around your neck, and his thumbs glide over the pulse point under your ears. He brings your face to his own, his expression twisted up with fear and anger and possession and love.

"You are mine! And I will keep you!"

You realize everything that you have been debating with yourself, all of your pro versus con lists, your stupid little dry erase board covered in sticky notes with your fears, your scribbled timeline of events and possible future predictions, none of it matters. All you care about is the man in your arms. Diego is the most important thing in your life and you can't imagine a life without him. If you had to give up everything to keep him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Your hands grip tightly around his wrists and you consciously straighten your spine. Expression hardening, your eyes open to meet his anguished gaze.

"I want black."

The armored 2020 Camry is delivered that Sunday. You thank him for finding something inconspicuous with an upgraded JBL sound system and he compliments your understated color choice of Black Sand Metallic. By the time you drop him off at the airport that evening you've managed to replace the new car smell with something better and you're thankful that the leather seats just wipe clean. Monday morning in the parking lot at work, however, is a literal ordeal.

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

The next two weeks feel like they’re seven months long. You clock out at noon on Thursday to a chorus of your coworkers making vaguely lewd remarks and howling with laughter about your vacation. 'Two whole weeks on a beach in Mexico with an absolutely loaded hottie' is what they've been repeating gleefully all week.

You turn around and walk backwards to give them finger guns, "Yes," then you reach down to adjust your pants, "And YES." Their squeals are contagious and you're still laughing when you burst out the front doors to drive home.

You turn the volume waaaay too high in the car so that your teeth vibrate and it feels like you're having heart palpitations. I love this fucking car and I love that man.

There is a rental Tahoe parked in the grass next to the huge gravel driveway at your farmhouse, but he left the second assigned parking space next to your Corolla open so you can park The Beast (as you have affectionately named your new ride) appropriately while away. When you get out of the car you glance up instinctively, Diego is standing outside your front door on the small third floor balcony laughing.

"Are you deaf yet, Princess?" He hollers down in amusement.

You flip him off with the middle finger that wears the gemstone ring he gave you while yelling back, "WHAAAAT??"

His laughter fades as he disappears inside, leaving the door wide open to let out all the cold air. Were you raised in a barn?? Close the door, the electric bill-- You cut off your own thoughts when you suddenly remember that you haven't been paying that electric bill for the last six months. Nevermind.

Before you can start up the stairs, Sara, your first floor neighbor, appears on the porch with their toddler. "Hey stranger!" Sara waves with a big smile and the kid does the same but with some kind of unidentifiable kitchen utensil in hand. "That is your boyfriend, right? He had a key so I didn't think it was your ex but I wanted to make sure. I mean, from what I just saw it is your boyfriend. Also, holy shit, that's your boyfriend?"

If she says the word 'boyfriend' one more time I'm going to spontaneously combust.

"Uh yeah, definitely not my ex. Sorry, I forget that you guys haven't really seen him before, I meant to tell you he was coming." You can feel your face burning and it isn't from the August sun. Sara fans her own face with a hand while mouthing 'he's hot' like you're somehow unaware. You forge on before she can start gushing aloud. "We're actually leaving on a trip tonight so I'll be gone for the next two weeks."

Now Sara drops the kid and scrambles over to whisper fiercely to you, "Oh my god, seriously? Where are you going? Wait, this is the same guy you've been going to see in New York, right? How long has it been, like a year? Is he taking you on a trip for your anniversary? I don't even know his name. Oh my god, that is so sweet!"

Okay, down girl. You're not sure who you're trying to will into being chill, Sara or yourself.

"Um, we're going to Mexico. And yeah, he's the guy in New York. It's just a vacation." You don't even touch the relationship questions with a ten foot pole. You glance up but Diego is still inside, Thank fuck.

Sara hops a little in excitement. "I'm sooo jealous!" She squeals. "You have to take a ton of pictures! I need to see! Oh my god, I bet you guys are such a cute couple!" You nod and start backing away, trying to wave goodbye so you can climb the stairs and then climb Diego. "Ooh ooh, wait, what's his name?" Sara hisses conspiratorially. "Does he speak Mexican? Is he Mexican!?!"

You suddenly remember why you tried to move away from this area. Repeatedly. "Yeah, he's Mexican and yes, he speaks Spanish." You sigh. Sara nods but continues staring at you expectantly. Fine. "His name is Diego."

Sara makes a stupid face like this is a rom-com movie. I cannot take anymore, you must shut the fuck up. "Okay, okay. I won't hold you up. But seriously, we can have a 'pics and wine' girls' night when you come back!" She waves maniacally before snatching up the kid and skipping back inside.

I can't think of anything I would like less. Oh hell no.

You climb the stairs in record time before she can come back outside and start talking again.

Bastian, Julio, and a third man you don't know are in your living room. You do not care and your vague wave shows it. You can hear Julio's warm 'Gordita!' greeting as you spin around and march to the bedroom.

Diego is standing at your bed, tucking TMP into your small duffel, when you burst through the doorway and continue at full speed directly into him. He laughs breathlessly but holds steady against your weight. "Princess. Are you ready?"

You take overflowing fistfuls of his shirt, bury your face in his chest, suck in a huge lungful of air, and shriek at full volume.

"Uhhh...that is a yes, si?" He mutters uncertainly above you.

You rear back to look up at him with a smile so wide it hurts.

"Oh good." His hands come to your shoulders while those beautiful brown eyes sparkle. The dimples and laugh lines come out as he absorbs your infectious excitement. Your hands shoot up to his hair to yank him down so you can crash your mouths together with bruising force.

The effect is immediate. He moans loudly and crushes you against him. You dig nails into his neck and you lick your way into his mouth, his hands snake down to your ass to hold tight. Your left leg comes up as you try to wrap it around his hips. With a pained groan he rips those lips off of yours and pulls back. Undeterred, you move on to assaulting his now bared throat, moaning like porn come to life.

"Princess," he gasps, "You have to sto-- uhhh, yes, bonita. Your fucking tongue." You're too busy licking his adam's apple to pay attention to words right now. "Nooo, mi amor, please, lo siento, stopstopstop." You get in one last nip of his collarbone as he pulls your head back via a handful of ringlets. His pupils are blown wide and he's panting hard. You stare longingly at his delectable mouth while making pitiful whines.

"Please, baby, pleeeease. You're all I've thought about for days. I need you!" You try shameless begging, you're certainly not lying. Petting over his shoulders and down that solidly muscled chest, you shudder and try to pull yourself back to him.

He closes his eyes with a grimace. "Flight! Fuck you on the flight!" He croaks, then yanks your hair harder than you like. The pain clears the fog just enough for you to blink back to awareness. You nod jerkily and step back. "Have to leave now to get there before dark." He explains in a rushed huff. You blink as you remember how time works.

"Right. Yeah, right. Okay. Okay." Straightening to attention you yank off the cardigan you wore for the air conditioning at work, leaving you in a tank top and ready to be productive. Focus on not-dick.

Diego shoves your favorite notepad in your face so you can see your packing list and not him. The distraction works. He has checked off every item in each categorized list but left the strike through action for your completion. You lower the notepad until you can make eye contact with him and intensely whisper, "You know I fuckin' love you, right?"

He laughs so hard he has to sit down on the bed.

You go through every bag, touching each item and crossing it off your list one at a time. He did it. Everything but you.

"You know I don't need TMP, right?"

"Why?" He squints up at you from where he lounges across your bed.

Your face heats up and you clear your throat. "Well, its, I'm. I have, uh, you. So I don't need anything else." The realization of how true that is in every sense gives both of you pause.

Diego surges upright to cup your face and bonk your foreheads together just a little too hard. You giggle and he huffs.

"Mi amor…" he sighs for you, eyes closing in pleasure. You 'mmmmm' in response. Then his eyes snap open and he growls an order, "Get changed so we can go!" And punctuates it with a stinging slap to your ass.

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

You spend the flight with your face pressed to the window, vibrating in excitement, except for a brief intermission of seven orgasms in the bathroom.

The unknown third man is Joey, Bastian's boyfriend. Joey is even quieter than Bastian and just as cute. They're not overly demonstrative but clearly comfortable moving around each other. Joey works in "Packaging" and does an admirable job of ignoring his cartel drug lord boss being snuggly. Julio naps.

The customs agent at the Cancun airport looks you up and down with wide eyes but stamps your passport with no questions. Its a five hour drive to Xcalak but Diego is adamant it can be done in three. You give him an eyebrow question which he dismisses with a vague wave, "They paved the road all the way to the southern border last year."

Uhh, they what now? You understand soon enough. The drive drastically changes outside of Cancun. The scenery is both beautiful and heartbreaking. There are occasional mansions with armed guards, high fences, and SUVs like your own current ride. Mostly though, its shacks and people on foot or riding bicycles, weaving to avoid stray dogs and huge iguanas. Could I handle this as my daily reality?

The first time the road sidles right up to the ocean you have a small meltdown.

"Is that what I think it is?" Your soft whisper is accompanied by a shaking hand pointing to the left. Diego, crammed into the middle of the backseat between yourself and Julio so you could have an unobstructed view, indicates an order for Bastian to pull over. He reaches across you and pops open your door. You slide out with his hand on your lower back and take about a dozen steps to the lapping water. Diego appears to your right, watching you intently.

"Its gre-e-e-en!" Your stuttering squeal is accompanied by happy tears and you fling yourself into Diego with joy. He laughs at you, but hugs you back just as tightly.

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

The first week passes in a blur of amazing food, warm green sea, fruity drinks, and shirtless wet Diego. And so many orgasms that you can't keep count. Diego is all over you non-stop, more than he ever has been before (Astonishingly). Its incredible and you feel like the only person in the world. If he's not molesting you then he is at least touching you; keeping you in his lap, holding your hand, cuddling and petting and snuggling like a man obsessed.

You love it. You love him. You love this life.

On Saturday he lets you lead him through the tiny town, your Spanish improving by leaps and bounds as you try to navigate the streets and alleys and shops. The four years of high school Spanish actually prove useful as you manage to complete a purchase all by yourself. Your playful mock smugness evaporates under the blazing desire in his eyes.

He drags you back to the casita in a much shorter and more direct route than you took upon earlier departure. You're marched directly to the bed and he puts one massive hand in the middle of your chest to gently push you down onto your back. There is something different about this, something important in his eyes. Your voice is high and soft, "Diego?"

He climbs up between your legs and leans down to kiss you senseless. It goes on forever; soft lips, scratchy beard, silky tongue, and nothing but the taste of Diego. Your moans and sighs are mixed together, there are moments when you can't tell who is making what noise. His hands are shaking as he strokes every inch of newly bared and sunburnt sensitive skin while undressing you.

It takes repeated attempts, but you finally get him naked, too. The sight never fails to take your breath away. All that soft, and now freshly tanned, skin is like velvet to your touch. You're mesmerized by his muscles flexing and then evening out as he moves above you. He finally gets your linen pants untangled off your left foot and flings them across the room with unnecessary force. Your soft peals of laughter light up his face and it brings tears to your eyes. You reach a hand out to him, "Diego. Baby."

He comes up over you, threading fingers into your hair, kissing you slowly and thoroughly. You can feel him against you, fire hot and mouth wateringly hard, but he makes no move to take you. Your eyes open in hazy confusion as the kiss ends. Diego is watching your face, blinking back tears.

He is holding your head still, hands like steel. Whatever this is, he needs it. And you want to give him everything he needs. Forever.

You're captured by his eyes, bottomless, soulful, and hungry. His raspy voice is soft and trembling with desire. "I love you, Bicki. I want everything. Forever, Princess?"

Your chest compresses and your heart implodes. Scalding tears escape when you blink and you're nodding before you even know it. "Yes, Diego. Yes, baby, I'm yours."

Your back arches off the bed as he comes home and brings you with him.

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

You wake up crushed under Diego. The sun is still up so you might be able to talk him into going out for dinner. You rub your cheek on the huge bicep doubling as your pillow and Diego sighs directly into your ear from where he is spooned up behind you. Oh yeah, we should have done this waaaay sooner.

He nuzzles your neck just to incite squirmy giggles and you don't even fight it. "I have something for you, Princess. Stay here." He pulls away and you whine about the loss of your pillow. His low chuckle burns you alive with want. "Stay like that. Do not move." You obey while you listen to him rummage around behind you.

He comes around to your side of the bed, still completely and unabashedly nude. Hell. Fucking. Yes. You love it. He hands your glasses over and you slide them on to take in the now high definition view of naked Murder Panther. The view disappears as he kneels down next to the bed so you're on eye level. His expression is very peculiar.

His hands slowly come up to reveal a small box of black velvet. Time slows to a halt as he opens the box and presents it to you.

Inside is a ring. Gleaming in platinum and sparkling with three tastefully large princess cut diamonds.

Its an engagement ring.

Diego is proposing.

He swallows hard and rumbles gruffly, "Now remember, you already said y--"

You cut him off with a shriek. "YES! YESYESYES!!"

In the time it takes him to blink twice with surprise you're on him. Arms around his neck, you throw yourself into his lap. He topples backwards and you ride him to the floor, already bawling hysterically.

He stares up at you in shock as you nod furiously and cry all over him. "Princess. You… you are certain?" If this were any other time you would be howling with laughter at his huge eyes and lax jaw.

Your answer is stuttery but determined. "Y-y-yeah. Put it-t-t-t on me already!"

He laughs in delight at your order and the imperious presentation of your shaking left hand. The ring glides on easily, a perfect fit. It gleams up at you blindingly. After a moment of admiration you lace your fingers with his and sigh at the union. His other hand comes up to roughly brush away your tears. "I know you do not like labels so much… but, you will be my, my married... Person. Thing?"

You stroke his bearded cheek in return, thumb lingering on that dimple. With a hard gulp you dive in head first. Fuck it.

"Yes, Diego. I will be your wife."

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

The next time you wake it is dark out. You reach for a phone on the nightstand to your left and jump when you find one with a loud crack. Diego pops upright behind you, instantly on high alert. "Princess?" He hisses while covering your body with his own.

You gigglesnort, then meekly answer him, "I forgot about the ring and whacked a phone. Everything's okay, baby."

He sighs so deeply that his breath ruffles your hair. "Jesus fucking christ, woman. You are a menace." He flops down on top of you and snuggles back into your warmth.

You reach back with your left hand and grope blindly for his face. He licks your fingers as soon as they're in reach and you stuff them into his mouth as retaliation. He just sucks languidly.

"Mmmmmm, I'm your menace, baby. And I have to pee." He nips your fingers but rolls over to free you. You slide out of the bed and stretch your arms high while arching your back. Diego groans painfully. "What?"

Diego rises to all fours on the bed while the sheet slithers off of him. "You forget that other people can see without glasses, huh?" You cock your head and realize that you have a shadow.

It's a full moon. And I just stretched naked in front of a sliding glass door. "Oh. Huh. I guess I do forget. Oops. I'll be sure to keep that in mind now." Your seemingly tame answer is directly contradicted by the exaggerated roll of your hips that makes your butt bounce when you walk off.

"Fucking menace, woman." Diego growls as you push the bathroom door shut with a trill of laughter.

You never do go back to bed but you do wind up on the beach in front of the casita to watch the sunrise. Julio finds you both snuggled together late the next morning, still asleep on the covered daybed under the palms while the rising tide comes ever closer. At least Julio has the decency to cover your bare ass with a beach towel.

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

By the time you think to check your phone gallery you have… 1,792 pictures. WHAT THE FUCK.

You scroll through the pics, there are a lot you do not remember taking. Was I that drunk or did Diego take some of these? One is a close up of your ass from below wearing a string bikini, I knew I wasn't that drunk. The next pic is Diego asleep on a lounge chair, one arm curled up above his head, muscles glistening in the sun, and swim trunks so low on his hips that it's almost obscene. Immediately following that is the same pic but with your own face photobombing about three inches away from the camera and giving a thumbs up with your left hand so your engagement ring is prominently visible. Oh yeah, I remember that one.

There are videos, too. The first one is Diego making lewd comments while you twerk in the ocean for about ten seconds. Okay, that's par for the course with us. Next is you successfully backflipping off of Diego's shoulders into the green water to everyone freaking out. Shit, even I'm impressed with myself. After that is video of you gagging through a dish of octopus at some restaurant. Both of you are clearly visible in the shot so Julio must have had the phone. Betrayal.

There are tens of dozens of the two of you in various poses and outfits, both disgustingly happy and blatantly in love. There's even a role reversal shot of Diego sprawled across your lap, one enormous arm wrapped around your neck and his knees over your own arm while you grimace and he laughs hysterically. The table to your right is covered in empty bottles and mostly finished drinks. An entire subsection depicts you asleep like you have a stalker. You count no less than 29 of you two trying on increasingly ridiculous hats in random stores.

You can't even keep count of all the close ups of a smoldering Murder Panther. You feel no guilt. Aren't you supposed to be ridiculously attracted to your fiancé??

Fiancé.

You have a fiancé. Your fiancé is Diego. You are engaged to Diego Rafael Jimenez.

I have to explain this ring to everyone. They'll have questions about him. People will want pictures. How do I explain what he does?? Oh my god, there's no closet here. I have to… find somewhere. And I can't I can't. Its-

Your head jerks upright when something touches your hair. Its Diego. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, he has unfurled a sheet over you to block out everything, and he waits there, watching you. Before you realize it your hands are reaching for his shoulders, just the feel of him, warm and solid under your hands, calms you.

Slowly, his right hand comes up to cover your left. "No closet, Princess." His huge fingers grip yours tightly. You nod a little. He just watches you, eyes guarded.

"Ask. Go ahead." You mutter. You can tell from his posture that he is uneasy, apprehensive.

He locks eyes with you and his gaze is intense. He curls all of his fingers around your left ring finger. "Still yes?"

The fear in his eyes breaks your heart. Your voice is shaky but determined, "No. You can't get rid of me. I'm your problem now, baby." His expression would make a meeker woman cower in fear, you laugh weakly.

He settles down on the tile floor in front of you, with the sheet over both of you. Its like four in the afternoon and I am sharing a blanket fort with my cartel boss fiancé while on vacation in Mexico. What even is my life? His elbows are on his knees, chin in hand. He studies you for a minute, you stare right back. He raises one eyebrow and you sigh in capitulation.

"I don't know how to just be happy. I suck at it." You shrug but reach for his face. Diego nuzzles into your hand while you stroke your thumb over his beard.

"Habby isz nawt a berb." He slurs into your palm with a soft kiss.

The epiphany is like a cinder block to the brain.

He's right. I don't have to 'do' anything. I'm happy right now. I've been happy every time I'm with him. And no one had to exert any effort.

People can define themselves. People can define their relationships. Why can't they define their own normal? I can make my own rules. Especially with someone like Diego as my partner.

His one eyebrow slowly rises as he watches your thoughts play out across your face. "You back?" He asks with a hidden smirk, you know its there from the way his eyes crinkle with laugh lines.

"Yup!" Is your decisive answer. Diego licks your palm. "I got better places you can lick, baby." You answer his smirk with a waggling eyebrow.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of play wrestling and inappropriate noises.

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

You do, in fact, go on a safari. Of sorts. Tours of ruins and jungle and cenotes, lots of side quests because the both of you are easily distracted by pretty colors. You probably added another thousand pictures of various palm trees to your gallery. The hat makes multiple appearances.

Diego has to ship a crate home to New York because he bought you too many souvenirs. You laugh and tease him when he wants to pick out things for your middle sister and niece, until you hear his logic.

"They were nice to me." He murmurs with a little half-shrug, "It was like being in a real family for a little bit." He studies the bins of painted shells on display in the little store with way too much focus.

You spend a moment deliberating before you decide to reach out and touch his elbow.

"Hey," your soft voice brings his gaze your way momentarily before he goes back to ceramic turtle magnets. You take his hand with your own right and rest your left hand on his chest. Diego looks down where your ring glints in the light, then up to your face. "You know you're going to be part of that 'real' family, right?"

Diego's boyish little smile is heartbreakingly adorable.

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

The flight home is much shorter than you want it to be and you spend most of it asleep on Diego. At one point you wake up to see Bastian and Joey cuddled up together napping. When you look up from where your head is resting in Diego's lap he is already looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You whisper softly. You stifle a yawn and blink repeatedly.

Diego strokes one big hand over your hair and grips your jaw firmly. With a huge toothy grin he answers, "Mine."

"Uh huh. How many times you need me to say yes, baby?" You smirk up at him with an arched brow. He seems to be reveling in hearing you readily admit your commitment to him.

He considers your question carefully while his other hand trails down the front of your body under a blanket. I don't remember having a blanket earlier. Finally, Diego settles on "Every day. At least seven times. Seven is a good number, right Princess?"

Your body jerks as his fingers press between your thighs with steady determination. Your eyes flick over to Bastian and Joey, still out cold. You make a show of wiggling around to get comfortable, and, surprisingly, that involves spreading your legs. "Yessss." You hiss up at him.

Julio reclines his seat and exaggeratedly covers his face with a new hat.

Seven is a very good number.

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

Your first day back to work is a circus. You don't think twice about your normal greeting as you enter the office suite. You swipe your badge with your right hand and pop the door, then wave 'hi' to everyone. Like usual. With your left hand.

There is an excessive amount of squealing that makes you second guess going into a female dominated field. The whole day is a wash because you have a steady stream of people passing through your cubicle. You're glad you had the forethought to curate a photo album of appropriate images to show your coworkers despite Diego's repeated attempts to sneak a dick pic in there somewhere. You most definitely included the glistening swim trunks lounge chair picture. Squealing intensifies.

Everyone comments on the hat and you're forced to tell the story of the hat. How you once told Diego that you wanted to see palm trees, 'But like, in the wild.' And Diego had laughed so hard that he fell off the bed only to pop back up wheezing about a 'Palm Tree Safari' until you smacked him in the face with a pillow. Your coworkers think it is just disgustingly adorable that he never let you live that down.

Your coworkers have questions:

When is the wedding?

Where are you having it?

What kind of dress do you want?

What are your colors?

Are you going to do flowers?

What about the cake?

Who is your maid of honor?

How did your family take the news?

What about his family?

Are you going to New York?

Will you take his name?

Oh shit. I forgot about the whole 'wedding' part of this.

#damnit diego #murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #zash writes #all the feels #so gross #soft murder panther #melty princess

25 notes · View notes

ascottywrites · 5 years ago

Text

The Angsty Post

Where Happy Endings come at the slowest of paces.

*Or, you know, sometimes not at all.

Rewriting the future by Synesthetic (Complete: 28/28| 106,631) --Steter

Two days before their planned bonding, alpha Derek Hale runs away with his secret beta girlfriend, leaving Stiles heartbroken. With the demands of his omega physiology forcing him to bond with someone before his first heat, Derek's uncle Peter steps in and offers a solution.

Backstage is Full of Parasites by Falln_Grce (Complete: 14/14| 61,346) --Steter

A little tweak to the Teen Wolf universe where Stiles learned to take care of himself from a young age. And despite going through trauma as a child, he's 17 now and has adjusted to the new normal as well as he can. With a soulmate-AU just to keep things interesting.

What if the Sheriff didn't turn to alcohol when his wife died... What if he focused all of his attention on helping a seven year old, recently removed from an abusive home, Isaac get settled into the Stilinski household... Where would Stiles fit into that world?

How I Long For Yesterday by sweetbutterbliss (One-shot| 6,017) --Sterek

Stiles blinks, his throat going dry, and he moves his thumb without thinking - liking the post. He feels a surge of petty satisfaction. At least the fucker will know he knows now. He stands up, his body feeling too heavy, and he blows out the already guttering candles. He lets out a sob of frustration when the last one won't fucking blow out. But he sucks it back in and bites down on his tongue, using his thumb and forefinger instead.

He throws himself into their empty bed without undressing. He lies there repeating the words 'Derek blew me off for Isaac' over and over. He tells himself to shut up while rearranging his pillow violently, but he goes to sleep with the refrain continuing its painful loop.

You're Not Who I Thought You Were by halcyon1993 (Complete: 21/21| 84,549) --Sterek

Stiles is lonely. The only person who really talks to him is his best friend, and even Scott seems eager to ditch him whenever someone better comes along. Following a stupid decision made late one night, his small world opens up as he discovers things he never before thought possible and he meets a mysterious man who could be the answer to all of his problems.

In Word and in Deed by lielabell (one-shot| 7,778) --Sterek

Stiles has stopped saying "I love you." Derek wants to know why.

(Once in a) Blue Moon by clarkoholic, skywardsmiles (Complete: 14/14| 60,051) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek are getting along, but they’re not a family, and they’re sure as hell not mates. Christ, they’re basically just two stupid guys who happened to get pregnant because of a full moon and sheer dumb luck.

We Are Made of Our Memories by JenyaKeefe (Complete: 9/9| 12,441) --Sterek

"I don't have amnesia." "Um, clearly you do. You're under a spell that's taken a year's worth of memories." "No. I've wakened from a spell."

Lost on you by devilscut (Complete: 7/7| 51,322) --Steterek

A deadly encounter with an Alpha changes Stiles' life forever - kicked out and betrayed by his best friend and brother, Scott McCall, he leaves Beacon Hills, but much to his surprise not alone. Ten years down the track, living a life he never dreamed possible, a chance meeting brings back memories of that night - the good and bad mixed with a whole lotta WTF that even now still has him scratching his head as to what happened.

In Treatment by tzzzz (Complete: 22/22| 166,937) --Sterek

Derek hires Stiles, a professional alpha sex therapist, to help him through his heat.

The New Normal by midnightcas (Complete: 27/27| 63,392) --Sterek

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc (Complete: 12/12| 35,380) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...

Beta read by the amazing Splash_of_ bi! Cannot thank you enough!!

Jokingly I'm adding this WARNING after having two separate comments talk about heart palpitations and others stating they are physically shaking or experiencing high blood pressure after reading the first few chapters.... WARNING: read with caution if you have a pre existing heart condition, Derek and the Pack may cause you to be upset!!

If We Could Match by forestofbabel (Complete: 9/9| 23,455) --Sterek

As Stiles waits behind the camera during an interview, he thinks he should maybe quit. Because, in all honesty, despite the charming smile the actor is pulling out for EW, Derek Hale is kind of a jerk.

Your Heart for My White Fences by zgdtx (Complete: 10/10| 29,444) --Sterek

At first, Derek was the one night stand that he could not pry himself away from. Before he knew it, Derek was the married man Stiles had fallen in love with. Then, Stiles was the little lamb being tossed into a pit of wolves, helpless and alone. There was not much he could do, no, not much at all. Dark AU.

Call in the Air Stike (Tell Them to Make the Drop) by WednesdaysDaughter (Complete: 2/2| 5,126) --Sterek

"How do you tell your best friend that the guy you were slowly falling in love with flat out said you were nothing but a waste of space, and you’ve secretly felt that way about yourself once or twice on a bad day? The answer is, you don’t."

Twyla Hale by FiccinDylan (Complete: 13/13| 37,123) --Sterek

After the formula of their go-to product changes, "Hair Day" becomes "Hell Day" in the Hale Pack household. It's time for Derek to call in the pros, imagine his surprise when he's presented with a wicked tongued white boy with honey brown eyes.

***sure there’s some stuff that happens that’s not fun but i think I would characterize this as light angst in comparison to the inherent possibilities of this fandom lol

Baby You're Beautiful by supernaynay (one-shot| 1,089) --Sterek

“God you’re beautiful.”

Derek hadn’t even realized that the words had left his mouth until the whole room went silent, including Stiles, who until about five seconds earlier was busy yelling at him for putting himself in danger yet again.

I want to do this for you by Late_to_the_fandom (Complete: 17/17| 19,323) --Sterek

“You must be delusional,” Derek deadpanned as he stood abruptly and stalked away indignantly to throw the broken shards of his cup in the garbage can. “In what harebrained scenario of yours did you think I’d say yes to this?” His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Nothing good can come out of this and you know it.” He paced angrily, his hands fisting then uncurling as he tried to rein his emotions. He stopped suddenly, his glare piercing and his words cutting, “I would never let you use me like this.”

There's Something About Love that Breaks Your Heart by Stereklover11 (Complete: 5/5| 7,835) --Sterek

"I love you," Stiles said.

Derek didn't answer right away. Then he said:

"I'm sorry Stiles, but I don't feel that way about you. Or any guy for that matter."

The one where Derek is bisexual but doesn't know it and refuses Stiles' love...at first. ;)

Baby Daddy by DiscontentedWinter (Complete: 25/25| 55,369) --Sterek

Laura Hale decides it's time to expand her pack. And Stiles could really use the money. And Derek... well, that's when things get complicated.

Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by butyoureyessaidyes (Complete: 19/19) --Sterek

It’s 6:18 A.M. on a Monday, and Stiles is using his thumbs to shape the fondant butt of a Winnie the Pooh sculpture. It’s the most action he’s seen in a long time.

Or the one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn't know he's part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

Kill Me Once, Shame On You by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle (wip: 15/?| 46,512) --Sterek

In the aftermath of their final bout with Gerard, things kinda went to shit. Yeah, they won. But Scott had violated some major boundaries. Jackson was still an emotionally constipated douche. Erica and Boyd were missing. In general, everyone was left missing a piece of themselves in one form or another. There was also the fact that there was a literal pack of alphas bearing down on them. Stiles was really getting sick of this shit.

(There's) Sulphur in Our Blood by WonderWolf (wip: 19/21| 186,356) --Sterek

"Harris put you on a recon mission with Derek. You. Alone with Derek. On a mission. Together,” Scott says, slowly. “Does Harris want you dead?”

“I believe so," Stiles says gravely.

(Secret Agent AU where Derek blames Stiles for his sister’s death and Stiles is pretty sure that Derek’s going to murder him. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, Stiles’ familiar keeps having public breakdowns.

Oh, and there’s a mole in the agency, so there’s that too).

193 notes · View notes

thatshithurted8 · 6 years ago

Text

When You Grow Up (III)

Summary: As Y/N’s wonderful day comes to an end, Tom seems to ruin it by asking questions that need to be answered.

Length: 2,259

Series Masterlist

A/N I’ve decided that this is going to be a series!!

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

When you first read the message Tom sent, you simply turned your phone on silent, rolled over and tried to go back to bed. Tried is the key word. You wanted to answer him in the morning when you are well rested and are thinking clearly, but your body had other plans.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable again you groan out of frustration and pick up your phone. As you type away you delete, rewrite, delete and rewrite the message over and over again. You finally send a text back, deciding to keep it short.

Y/N: Marv’s diner tomorrow (technically today) at 1?

Almost instantly Tom responds.

Tom: See you then :)

His quick response makes you wonder what is he still doing up at this hour? Then it dawned on you, he was partying and he was drunk texting you.You grumble as you slam your phone down annoyed, that your ex woke you up from texts he won’t even remember in the morning.

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

“Where the hell are we going?” You ask your sister, Faye as you waddle down a long hallway in a hotel near your house. Faye woke you up early and decided to take you out on a girls day. The first thing you two did was go out for breakfast at your favourite restaurant. Then the both of you guys got your nails done, you opting for a shade of light blue. And now you were in a hotel you’ve never stayed at following your older sister with confusion evident on your face.

“You’ll see in a sec.” She says stopping in front of two wooden doors with a smile on her face.

“Well go in.” Faye says looking at you expectantly once you catch up to her.

You follow her orders and as you open the door family and friends pop up yelling, “Surprise!”

You jump slightly in your spot as your right hand flies up to your heart, a shocked smile forming on your face. You were at a loss for words as you look around, Faye threw you a surprise baby shower.

As the party commences you stand in the same spot, shock still on your face as your mom and dad walk up to you and your sister. “Surprise!” Your mother says, placing a blue flower crown on your head.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Ever since you were little you dreamed of what your future baby shower would be like, but now that you’re a single mother you decided that spending money on a baby shower wasn’t worth it, when you could be buying Alexander necessities. Your family knew you were secretly disappointed at the fact you weren’t having one so everyone secretly chipped in to fulfil your dream.

You and your parents exchange hugs before you start to walk around the medium sized conference room, greeting friends and family. As you walk around music starts to play and you marvel at the decorations around the room.

When you first walk into the room the first thing you see is a table set up at the wall directly in front of you. On this table are two flower arrangements at each end and the table itself is filled with cake and sweets. Above the table hangs a white stuffed bear holding onto a bunch of blue balloons to make it look like it is floating away. The second table on the other side of the room is filled with refreshments, snacks and games. The third, and last table is stacked with presents on top. There’s blue balloons scattered around the room and a make shift photo booth area could be found hidden in a corner.

To your dismay the party flew by in what seemed to be minutes with all of the fun you had. This is the most carefree you’ve felt in awhile and if you were honest it felt refreshing. You make sure to say goodbye to all of the remaining guests before leaving yourself.

Faye and your parents told you to go home, that they will see you there in an hour or so after cleaning everything up and putting the gifts in their car. You wanted to stay and help after all, they just threw you a baby shower, it’s the least you could do. However, they persisted for you to get some rest.

So currently you found yourself turning into the driveway of your childhood home. Once you shut off the car you remain seated for a few minutes as you lean your head against the steering wheel of Faye’s car with a giant smile on your face.

As you finally get out of your sisters car you clutch your prominent stomach and hum while you walk up the stairs of the porch, looking at your belly. Once your eyes look up they instantly land on a figure sitting on the wooden bench your dad built.

Your smile instantly disappears and you can feel your happy mood diminish when your brain registers who’s sitting on your porch.

It was Tom.

He didn’t look happy as he looked up at you from his spot. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Well I was at Marv’s diner waiting for you, but you never showed up.”

Your eyes widen at the statement Tom made. “Tom I thought you were drunk when you texted me.” You say with a sigh.

“I wasn’t drunk Y/N.” He says while standing up. “What made you think I was?”

You roll your eyes at the man in front of you. “I don’t know, maybe the fact partying and getting drunk is your favourite past time.”

“I was at a party, but I wasn’t drunk.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and a hand on your hip.

“Because after Chelsea and I saw you yesterday I realised how much I miss you.”

You could feel your heart wince at this. This can’t be happening, after months of getting used to being on your own he has the audacity to come back and say he misses you? After all of the emotional and mental turmoil he put you through?

“You should’ve thought about that before telling me to abort Alexander and leaving.” You say with venom laced in your voice. Tom was clearly hurt at what you said, but you didn’t care after all, does he think everything is going to go back to normal just by saying he misses you? He has a girlfriend for fucks sake.

As Tom stands in the same spot you turn towards the front door and insert the key and open it. While you take a step to walk into the house Tom grabs your hand and says, “Wait!” A little too loudly, making you have deja vu to Target.

You turn around to look at him, but you look down at your connected hands, trying your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Tom notices you staring and instantly disconnects his hand from yours.

“Can we please talk?” At first you were going to say no, but then you thought about the precious baby boy growing inside of you. Maybe this chat can benefit him.

“Fine, but you can’t stay long.” You say walking into the air conditioned house with Tom following behind you. Both of you take off your shoes and the brunette follows you up the stairs towards your bedroom.

When you guys walk into your room Tom is taken aback at how much it’s changed. While you guys were semi-dating Tom came over to your family home numerous times, especially since it was so close to your apartment on campus.

Once you reach your room Tom watches as you grab a few articles of clothing from your dresser. “I’ll be right back I’m going to get changed.” You say before exiting your room and walking down the hall to the washroom. As you change Tom takes this time to look around your new and improved room. He notices how you got rid of most of your teenage stuff and replaced it with items that were appropriate for your age.

Instead, of keeping the purple walls from your teenage years your room is now beige. You got rid of your bean bag chairs and replaced it with a grey rocking chair. Tom noticed how you moved your dresser to the other side of the room and on top is a changing pad. Beside the dresser is a small bookshelf filled with books from your childhood and framed pictures of Alexander from ultrasounds. On your bed is a giant pillow that Tom thought was a person at first, but in reality it was your pregnancy pillow. The last thing Tom’s eyes land on is the light brown crib beside your bed.

As Tom inspects your room he can’t help, but to pick up one of the framed ultrasound pictures and walk over to the crib. He didn’t realise he was doing these actions it came naturally.

He looked down at the black and white picture in awe before looking into the crib and seeing stuffed animals along one side and a fuzzy blue blanket. He looks up and see’s a baby mobile hanging above the crib. Tom reaches up and touches one of the animals attached to the mobile.

He could already tell his son was already loved so much. So why didn’t he love Alexander the same way as you did with the same intensity when you told him?

“What are you doing?” You ask as you stand in the doorway of your room.

Tom instantly turns around feeling adrenaline course through his veins as he didn’t expect you to catch him. “I-I don’t know.” He chokes out as he takes in your appearance. You took your make up off from earlier, had your hair up in a messy bun and were wearing black leggings with an over sized shirt with the name of your college on it. Despite, the shirt being oversized your stomach still stood out. Tom loved it when you dressed like this and seeing you wear this particular outfit is making the brown eyed boy be reminded to when you two were together.

You simply shrug your shoulders while putting your dirty clothes in a hamper and walking over to your bed. Tom puts the picture back where he found it as you do this. You climb into your bed, getting under the covers, while leaning against the headboard of your bed. You simply nod over to the rocking chair in the corner and Tom silently understands what you mean.

After Tom sits down in the grey chair you speak, “So what do you want to talk about?”

“I think I want to be in Alexander’s life.” He breathes out.

“You think or you know?”

“I-I know. I know I want to be in his life.” Tom stutters looking around the room before finally meeting your gaze.

“Why?” You ask as you fold your arms over your chest.

“What do you mean why?”

You sigh. “Well there has to be a reason right? Just a few months ago you were adamant you didn’t want him and now all of a sudden you do. What changed?”

It took Tom a few minutes to gather his thoughts before he spoke, “When you first told me I was scared and I’m sure you were too, but at that moment in time I didn’t even know if I liked kids, let alone wanted them and then I find out you’re pregnant with my child. I was so shocked and scared that I acted immaturely and said some really stupid things Y/N and I’m really sorry for that.” He pauses looking at you in the eyes and you could tell how he truly sorry he was.

“I’d be lying if I said every day away from you I didn’t think about you because I did. I thought about you and the baby all of the time.” Tom’s statement causes a blush to creep onto your face and you hope that he doesn’t notice it. “I wanted to reach out to you I really did, but I was scared that you’d shut me out. And to be honest after our last talk I thought it would be impossible to fix things.” Tom says looking at your hands caressing your stomach then back up to your eyes.

“But then Chelsea and I saw you at Target and once my eyes landed on your bump I felt ashamed. Ashamed for what I put you through, ashamed for letting you go through this pregnancy alone, ashamed that I missed watching Alexander grow along with your belly. So please Y/N can we do this parenting thing together? I’ve already missed so much please don’t let me miss anything else.” He asks - begs you.

You sigh as you gather your thoughts. You know you can’t let your emotions get in the way for what’s best for your son, but a part of you is scared that he’ll leave again. No matter what your answer is it won’t fix everything, you know that for sure, but if it will have a positive impact on Zander then you’re all for it. However, you will never forget what Tom did.

You chew on your bottom lip knowing what you’re about to say will make or break yours and Alexander’s future. “Yes Tom we can do this parenting thing together.”

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

Tags: @livasaurasrex @bellamyblakemorley @mutuallynotmutual @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @badgalll88 @ilyholland @bangtan-serendipity @itsbebeyy @ghostinparker @onelovesr @newleta

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #frat tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #Avengers #marvel

382 notes · View notes

lowkeyhockey · 5 years ago

Text

(sugar, we’re) going down swinging - miro heiskanen (part i)

Pairing: Miro Heiskanen/Reader; Reader is Tyler Seguin’s sister

Mentions: Tyler Seguin, (brief mentions of) Jamie Benn, Roope Hintz

Warnings: Mentions of past underaged drinking, sexual connotations, cursing

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Miro Heiskanen has a sweet tooth. TSeg’s sister has a coffeeshop and a knack for putting new twists on familiar recipes.

The writer has previously made a promise for a fake dating trope, but that’s coming in the next part. In this part, pls enjoy the coffeeshope trope, because we’re seeing how many tropes this baby can fit.

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

"Iced mocha for Tyler Seguin," you call out to the half-full coffeeshop, mostly because you know it would piss him off.

It works, too - Ty only wants attention when he feels like it, and the dumbass is way too used to getting exactly what he wants - and you grin as you watch Miro Heiskanen make his way over to you at the counter, while big brother glares at you from the table they'd claimed in the far corner.

He's wearing a pair of sunglasses indoors like the douche that he truly is, but still. You don't need to see his eyes to know that he's glaring. He's either trying to go incognito or trying to survive a hangover, and he's never fun while doing either things.

So you focus on Miro instead, and you focus on annoying him. The kid really is too sweet for his own good. You'd practically be doing him a favour, if you get him to lose his cool for even a moment or two.

"Baby, you're not a rookie anymore," you coo at him as he gets closer, mostly because you know it would make him blush, and that works, too. He makes no move to take his hands out of his pockets, though, and you wonder idly how he plans on bringing the coffee back over for Ty.

"You don't have to keep letting my brother boss you around," you tell him after a pause, only-half to remind him that he should maybe get to it now that he's already given in, and he gives a shrug - which is probably about as expressive a reaction as he's physically capable of.

"Kinda do, he's still got the A," Miro says, and you're just about to protest when you spot the smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Point to Miro.

As reward, you move away from the cashier counter to the display case right to the side, filling a plate with an apple strudel you know he likes to treat himself with and a small cheese tart. It's a Japanese recipe, adapted where and how you'd felt like it because peanut butter's awesome in pastries and recipes in general are for squares, and you'd been looking for a guinea pig to try them out on.

Preferably before you eat the whole batch.

He follows you as you move, looking only mildly intrigued, though he fully raises an eyebrow - that's, like, 1.5 expressions in one day! - when you set the plate down in front of him.

"You sass my brother, you get a treat," you explain to him, grinning, and it takes him a moment before he smiles back.

Point to you.

"Okay, sure, thanks," he says, like a free pastry's gone and made his day, and it's so sweet that you think he's trying to give you cavities. Or maybe he's trying to sweet not-talk you into giving him more pastries, and thus the cavities.

"You trying a new recipe with the tart? I haven't seen it before, I can tell you what I think about it after," he says, because of course he knows your routine by now, and you almost reach out to pat his head - he's too cute.

"I'll give you a couple extra if you like them," you promise, because A) he likes almost everything, B) customers at the coffeeshop rarely try a cake or pastry they haven't seen in the display case a couple of times, out of a healthy fear of your more creative recipe-redesigns, and C) you know your brother's good for it.

But Miro nods, looking pleased, as though you haven't just done a whole cost-benefit analysis in your head, and you decide to throw in a couple of strudels in his to-go bag later either way.

You watch him as he makes his way back to his table, noting that yours isn't the only female head turned in his direction. That's what you get for opening a coffeeshop in a university area, you guess.

You know you should be getting back to work, and you tell yourself that you know — but you don't actually do it until you see Miro taking a bite out of the tart. You don't really see how he feels about it, but you do see him smacking Tyler's hand away when Ty reaches for the strudel, and as you turn back to work you're feeling inexplicably pleased.

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

"Please make more strudel, more cheese peanut butter tart," the note in your suggestion box reads. When you'd opened the note a ten dollar bill had dropped out, which you'd always found funny - Miro understands the concept of tipping, kinda.

But he'd always include a tip with his suggestions, and it always makes you feel like he's trying to bribe your into making more of whatever it is that he wants.

Usually it's the apple strudel, because it's insanely popular and he'd come by after practice a couple of times to find that you're sold out. Those days, he usually leaves in a sulk - and it's funny to you, that you know what Miro in a sulk even looks like.

Sometimes it's about one of your new recipes - a comment of critique, or just asking you to keep making more of exactly what you just did. He's a surprisingly good taster, capable of figuring out if you'd tweaked your recipes even the tiniest bit, and he's not shy about making his feelings on the changes known - at least in writing.

Sara, your assistant-slash-boss reads the note over your shoulder and snorts, dancing away before you could swat at her.

"Just give that boy a trial run and get him the fuck over it, you'd be doing him a favor," she tells you, ducking before the plastic takeaway dessert fork you tossed at her would have hit her. "I'm not kidding, babe," she tells you, popping up again like a demented prairie dog, and you would roll your eyes at her except she's looking uncharacteristically serious. "Does he not understand the concept of cheat day? It's not called cheat coffeeshop."

And you roll your eyes at her after all, even though she's not wrong, exactly. But you can't bring yourself to complain about how often Miro swings by, whether it's with Tyler or Jamie or the rest of the Finnish mafia. Sometimes he swings by alone, too, and you secretly like those days best, because he usually spends those visita hovering around the counter or in the kitchen or in your office with you - eating slowly, almost delicately at his pastries, and pushing your hands away whenever you or Sara try to steal a taste of whatever he seems to be enjoying so much.

He visits way more than anyone else on the team, even Tyler, and Ty visits often enough that your coffeeshop's kinda known for him. Your coffeeshop - his - Sara's, whatever you want to call it. The coffeeshop started out as Sara's, a modest and kinda rundown little place until you and Tyler had decided to sweep in.

The thing is, you're known in your family as being a little flighty - a reputation you can't even make any arguments against while still being honest and fair. And you like to think you're almost always honest and fair. But there's just so much of the world to experience, and so little time to experience it all in - it drives you crazy, sometimes, all the things you're not doing, and your family understands that.

Even supports you in that, maybe a little more than they should. But hey, Ty could definitely afford it.

When you announced to your family that you're dropping out of pre-med and going to baking and pastry arts school, your mom had protested for about a week until Tyler had called about this - Sara's coffeeshop, a little rundown but it's been around for about as long as time, a local no-frills favourite in downtown Dallas and if you wanted to go to school you can damn well make sure you like what would be waiting for you when you get out of it first.

He bought out a fifty percent share of the coffeeshop, and let you know that it's a loan - a gift only if you follow through with it. He let Sara know she's in charge of the business as a whole, while you're in charge of the kitchens - more specifically, the pastries and whatever hot menu items you decide to add on.

Before you and Mr. Moneybags had joined the staff, the coffeeshop had been seriously no-frills - it sold coffee and cold sandwiches and that was about it. Some of the regular crowd had stayed around for your menu overhaul, but you'd brought in a younger crowd, too, students and hipsters and puckbunnies (though you've yet to call any of them that to their faces).

That was about two years ago, so you think you have a pretty good track record - two years of balancing school and working on your own recipes and prepping pastries to be sold and learning how to balance the business's books, because you'd learned that that's something you need to get used to (inventories, dealing with receipts and regular payments to suppliers and so on) and if you try to add business classes on top of everything else you might die.

(So much for wanting to try and do everything all at once.)

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

Two years of working at the coffeeshop, at building it from the near-ground (sorry, Sara) up has matured you - at least, that's what you tell Tyler right before you slam back two shots of vodka, one coming neatly after the other, waiting for the burn to die down before you punch an arm victoriously into the air.

"You could pretend that was your first drink," Jamie says to you from where he's leaning against the counter - even with you perched on top of it, ankles crossed as neatly as anyone could possibly want, you don't have to look down much to look him in the eye. His eyes are crinkled with amusement, his voice low and easy, and you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead - beaming at the perfect imprint your red lipstick leaves behind.

"Why start my first night as a twenty-one year old with a lie?" you ask him, grinning wide, and he's laughing up at you one moment and pushed away the next, Tyler's beaming face replacing his as he lifts you off the counter and sets you on the ground. The crowd cheers at that, for some reason, the party a mix of your bakery school friends and some loyal customers and some of Tyler's teammates, and you let big brother lead you to the cake you'd baked yourself.

No one else would know exactly what you'd want, you'd said, and Miro had shot back a quietly sassy. "that's because no one else would think to put that much rum in a cake," which.

Point to Miro.

But you can see Miro's face across the cake, smiling at you in the candlelight after the lights are switched off and everyone is gathered around to sing you happy birthday, and if he's willing to die by alcohol poisoning by birthday cake then that's alright by you, too.

"Make a wish," Sara shouts, sounding like she doesn't need the cake's help, and after catching Tyler's gaze you close your eyes - so no one knows that you'd wish for exactly this - before leaning down to blow out the candles.

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

Two hours later, you're perched on the counter again, legs swinging idly as you watch Roope dance on one of the nearby tables. You're wondering, in a purely academic kind of way, how many gyrations it'll take before the table comes crashing down - it's a lucky thing you and Tyler had renovated the coffeeshop and swapped out all of the furniture, or that would definitely have happened the moment he'd climbed on.

And then you'd be short one extremely important scientific study.

You're distracted from your research by Miro coming in close - too close, standing between your legs, his waist is slim, you realise, when you realise you can comfortably sit with it between your knees. The knowledge makes you warm all over and you want to say that you don't know why, except you do.

"Water?" he asks, as though you're not clearly thirsty for something else, and you're blinking at him to confirm you'd heard right. You get a little sidetracked by his grin, but then you follow his nod down to the glass in his hand, taking another moment before you accept it.

And sip, closing your eyes again because you can feel his gaze on you, feel the warmth of his hands on your thighs, just above your knees but under the hem of your dress. You don't put the glass down until you've drank about half of it, and when you do, it's to rest both your wrists on his shoulders, like a parody of a slow dance.

Or like you're putting the two of you in some private circle, away from the noise of the crowd. His eyes are gorgeous from this close - and he's flushed, but they're too clear, watching you with something between wariness and want.

"You're sober," you say, and the word comes out like an accusation, and Miro blushes even harder - before his eyes narrow at you. "I'm twenty, I don't really drink when I’m here - you're not?" he asks, and in the same heartbeat his hands are off you, resting on either side of your legs on the counter instead.

He looks genuinely concerned, it's adorable, and you lace your hands together behind his neck before he could escape completely. "I'm not, like, wasted," you tell him, and when he looks unconvinced, you lean down to press your forehead against his - so at least you wouldn't have to see it.

"Promise I'm not, baby," you say, the endearment coming as easily to you as it always has, and you wonder if his shoulders always tense when you say it. His hands move, slow and uncertain, to rest around your waist, and you smile a little. "I'm just a little tipsy, a lot happy. Did you see Roope dancing on the table?"

"Yeah, that's why I brought you the water. Didn't want you getting any ideas," he says, and you laugh a little.

"I'm not going to ask why you're worried about me," you tell him, pulling back to look him in the eye again, and he's not looking uncomfortable now - just a little curious, just a lot fond.

"You think you know why?" he asks, and he's tilting his face up just right - you have your hands holding his face steady for you in the next heartbeat, you're pressing your lips to his like you'd been wanting to for months now, you feel him kissing you back, then deepening the kiss, confident and needy and sure -

and then he's gone.

And this time Tyler's not even to blame - you look around a little dazed, wondering if he'd spotted the two of you and came over, pushing Miro aside like he'd done to Jamie, wondering if you're more drunk thank you thought.

"Finish the water, Y/N," Miro says, because Miro had decided to pull away all by himself, and he's looking at you with - you don't even know. "I'll get you another glass, and then I should probably go. Happy birthday again, thanks for the - birthday kiss."

And then he really is gone, pushing his way through the crowd, and then you start wishing that you are drunk.

#nhl imagine #hockey imagine #miro heiskanen imagine #miro heiskanen #lyss writes hockey #dallas stars imagine

138 notes · View notes