#for singing loudly and not being able to carry a tune

[gwenlena]

people who complain about people singing at concerts are so annoying if you only want to listen to the artists thats what listening at music at home is for. concerts are a social experience you go there to be with other people who like the music as much as you do, you dont get to stop them enjoying it because you dont know what a concert is

[dandelion-wings]

Still thinking about this particular Gunnhildr family tonight, and I've had this scene floating around in my head for literal years by now, so:

---

It's been two hours, and Alba won't stop crying. Jean has fed her, and changed her nappies, and bounced her, and rocked her, and whispered soft soothing words even though she herself wants to scream just as loudly as her daughter. None of it works. She's been up since four this morning, and it's nearly eleven at night, and all she can do right now is sit on the chair in the nursery and stare at Alba's crib, where her daughter lies wailing, because Jean doesn't trust herself to hold her any longer.

How did her parents do this? How does anyone do this? Why did Mother take that trip to Liyue and abandon Alba to Jean, when she has no idea what to do?

That last is unfair. Her mother has affairs of her own (personal affairs, that Jean is carefully not thinking about in detail) that she deserves to be able to take care of without being weighed down by the task of watching her granddaughter. And Jean does know what to do; she's watched her mother carefully, and heard advice from her father and the sisters of the Church and half the knights of the Ordo. It's just that none of it is working.

Over Alba's wails, she doesn't hear Kaeya come up the hall until he's slipping into the room.

"There's my little Gunnhildr," Kaeya croons, sweeping Alba up out of the crib and bouncing her on his shoulder as he turns to Jean. "I would ask if she just woke up, but as you look like you haven't slept…."

"She's eaten, she's changed, and I've tried to put her down, but she's been crying like this for hours." Jean is ashamed to hear the frustration in her voice. "I even sent for Sister Jilliana, who said she isn't colicking or teething. I don't know what else to do."

"I'd say you should start by getting some sleep. I'll take her downstairs to the kitchen and see what I can do. If I'm lucky, I can calm her down, and if I'm not, at least your room should be quiet enough for you to get some sleep."

"You just came in-"

"And I can sleep in tomorrow. You have a morning meeting with Varka and the Inazuman delegation."

That she can't miss. That's been preying on Jean, too. It's why she nods miserably instead of arguing further, and leaves Kaeya to carry their daughter away while she makes her way to her bed.

As far across the house as Kaeya can get, she can, indeed, barely hear Alba's crying, muffled by floors and doors and walls. The sound is so faint she could almost imagine it an echo in her own head. Jean still hates to hear it; her daughter is upset, and she should know why and be able to fix it. That she couldn't makes her want to shrink with shame. With tomorrow's duties in mind, though, she lies back and tries to relax into sleep.

Gradually, Alba's wailing fades into silence. No--not silence. Snatches of sound still come from below, coming and going, but they're soft and slow. Jean, pulling herself up out of the unhappy half-sleep she'd been hovering in, listens more intently, her curiosity as strong as her relief. It's Kaeya, singing, the tune drifting in snatches up from below. The music itself is the simple strains of a lullaby, familiar in form even if she doesn't recognize the specifics of the song. The language… sounds almost hilichurlian, but it's softer around the edges, their choppy cadences smoothed out, words and phrases longer and more complex.

Jean has never heard Kaeya speak Khaenri'ahan before.

It isn't particularly beautiful singing. She had been enough of a singer as a child for her father to give her lessons, Barbara listening wide-eyed at her side. Diluc and Kaeya have a classical aristocratic education just as she does--maybe more so--but she doesn't recall either of them having any musical inclination. Kaeya's singing is inexpert, shifting in and out of key, and the eerie similarity to hilichurlian makes it seem even more inelegant despite the flourishes. But there's a gentleness in it that makes Jean want to cry.

She falls asleep, instead, lulled at last by the relief of silence and intermittent bars of Keaya's song.

Kaeya lets her sleep until only an hour before her meeting, and so Jean can do nothing more in the morning than thank him for the sleep and scold him for the late waking in the same sentence and glance into the nursery. Alba is asleep at last, and Jean isn't going to wake her up, so she foregoes a goodbye kiss and rushes to get to the Ordo in time.

Then her day turns into the usual routine of work, one meeting followed by another, interspersed with inspections and reports and a patrol of the guard stations around the city, because rumors have been floating around about Abyss Mages again. Kaeya arrives shortly after noon with the reassurance that he'd handed Alba off to her father and sets off on a brief mission with his company that keeps him past when Jean finishes with her day and goes up to the Cathedral to retrieve her daughter from her father and the sisters' doting care.

He catches up with her an hour or so after she gets home, managing to make it while dinner is still warm. Alba is fed and, thank Barbatos, happy, cooing in excitement when she sees Kaeya come through the door. After a few minutes of playing with her, he serves himself a plate of bolognese and runs through a brief overview of the mission as he eats. The description of one unfortunate knight managing to fall halfway off and tangle herself in her stirrup leather is likely exaggerated for effect, but Jean giggles anyway.

"And my official report will be on your desk when you get in tomorrow," he concludes, rising to rinse his plate. "Are you and Lisa still on for your date tonight?"

"I can stay home and let Lisa know I'm unavailable, if you'd like. I don't know how late Alba kept you up last night."

"No later than the trail I was hoping to pursue at the Cat's Tail would have if it had played out as I'd hoped." Kaeya shrugs. "I did get her to sleep eventually."

"I noticed. I heard you singing," Jean confesses. "That was Khaenri'ahan, wasn't it?"

Kaeya's cheeks go dusky. "You have good ears."

"If it was private, then I am sorry. I wasn't trying to overhear."

"No need to apologize. There's no reason for it to be private. I… don't speak the language often any more, but it's hardly a secret. Not to you." Kaeya is still blushing, not quite meeting her eye. It isn't the Khaenri'ahan he's embarrassed by, Jean realizes. It's the song.

"It sounded lovely," she offers him. "What is it about?"

The question only makes him even more reluctant to meet her eye, hesitating to answer. When he does, it's with a shrug and a sheepish chuckle. "Not to disappoint you, it isn't nearly as nice as the tune makes it sound. It's telling a child to be quiet and still, because if they make too much noise, or cause too much trouble… well. The riftwolves will come and carry their family off."

"Oh." Jean is embarrassed herself now for prying. "That isn't that strange, though, is it? Some of Mondstadt's nursery rhymes are just as unpleasant when you really listen to them. That one about the mockingbird is said to relate to a curse by an ancient witch, and the rhyme children sing in that circle game is about a plague in Decarabian's day."

"Huh. That's true." Kaeya looks over at Alba, who has wriggled partway under the table and is happily banging one toy against another. His blush has faded to a fond considering look. "There certainly aren't any riftwolves in Mondstadt to steal her away from us."

"No. And if they ever come, she'll have us to defend her. Lisa and Barbara, too, and Mother, and Father, and Grand Master Varka…."

"And no doubt half the Ordo as well. She doesn't need to fear anything, does she?" Kaeya sounds faintly wondering, as if this is a revelation that's only just occurred.

Jean is hardly going to remind him of all the things their daughter does need to fear, from falls down steps to clumsy drunks to Jean's own political enemies. She suspects she knows what that 'anything' encompasses for him, and she's as glad as he is that Alba is safe from the nightmares of his own childhood. Instead she comes to stand beside him, bumping his shoulder companionably as she watches Alba play.

He throws her a quick smile. "You're going to be late if you hang around any longer. I don't particularly want to face Lisa's wrath, so you'd better hurry up."

"Thank you," Jean tells him, bumping his shoulder again as she turns to go. She pauses in the doorway, glancing back once, and smiles to see him crouched down and carefully examining an offered toy. Then she heads out to meet with Lisa, leaving the two of them in the safest home she knows.

[ramblingoak]

I’m Proud of You

This is for @ghooflette 

(A short snippet where @ghooflette is stuck wrangling a drunk Dewdrop, Aether and Cirrus around.  Fluff and some mild humor.)

You stumbled a bit under under Dewdrop’s weight and barely managed to keep you both from crashing into the wall.  Not that he was all that heavy, you were pretty sure you could carry him princess style if necessary.  But he was very very drunk and making zero effort to help you on your journey to his room.  Somewhere behind you Cirrus and Aether were singing loudly and horribly out of tune.  You were pretty sure it was “No Scrubs” by TLC but they were far enough behind you that you couldn’t really tell.

A slender finger tapped the tip of your nose and you huffed and swatted the hand away.

“Boop,” Dewdrop cackled and reached up to do it again but his uncoordinated movement caused you both to sway dangerously.

“Damn it Dew, come on!  This isn’t in my job description, ok?” You paused and jostled him around a bit to get a better grip on his waist and the arm slung over your shoulder.  Seriously what the hell had happened to your life?  When Papa had asked you to become somewhat of an assistant to his ghouls you had been excited.  Thinking that you were finally moving up amongst the other sisters and brothers.  You dreamed about helping the ghouls during practice and following them on tour.

Instead you basically spent your time babysitting a bunch of stray, feral cats.  Who at the moment were very drunk.  And Aether and Cirrus were definitely yelling about how scrubs weren’t going to get any love from them.

“Oh hey, shhhh little buddy it’s ok,” Dewdrop stopped cooperating completely and you shoved him against the wall to catch your breath. You put your hands on your hips and looked towards the ground, silently praying to Lucifer for the strength to not throttle the little ghoul in front of you.

Aether and Cirrus had caught up to you, arms around each other.  They had apparently given up continually chanting the chorus to “No Scrubs” and had now moved onto Shania Twain.  Aether was proudly singing about how he felt like a woman and you were pretty sure the whole floor was able to hear it. Cirrus was providing backup vocals.

A hand appeared in front of your face, the fingers snapping for your attention.  You pushed it away and glared at him.  You hated letting your frustration get to you but shit, what were you even doing with your life?  Maybe you could transfer back to the kitchens.  Maybe you shouldn’t bother trying to move up.  Peeling potatoes is a respectable job.  Probably.

You were forced from your thoughts by Cirrus violently hip checking you as she wiggled around you and Aether while he played air guitar and sang his heart out.  Satan give you strength.

“Psst! Hey, hey buddy,” Dewdrop once again stretched his hand towards your face, his pointer finger stretched out, “I’m so proud of you”.

Your eyes widened as he repeated himself, sounding far more sober, “I’m really, like really fucking proud of you.  You’re the best assistant we’ve ever had.  I’m going to give you a raise.  And a boat.”

Dew’s eyes met yours and he smiled at you.  Your heart melted a bit, because even though he had consumed an unholy amount of alcohol he sounded completely sincere.  His gaze was probably the softest you’d ever seen.  He moved his finger closer and stopped it right before your nose.

“Boop!” You grunted as he smashed your nose down and then his hand dropped to his side and you saw his body straighten against the wall.  He giggled a little and then abruptly passed out and dropped dramatically to the ground.  You didn’t bother trying to catch him.

Aether slung his arm over your shoulder and looked fondly at you, “You know what?”

“What Aether?” You watched as Cirrus grabbed Dew’s ankles and started dragging him down the hall.  Well shit, you could’ve done that.

“Do you wanna know the best thing about being a woman?”

(If you’ve never listened to “No Scrubs” or “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” you should definitely do so.  Loudly.  Anyway I wrote this really quickly so I hope you like this @ghooflette 💙💙💙)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

My Masterlist

My Ao3

[thebandcampdiaries]

An interview with Nic Nassuet

We had the opportunity to ask singer-songwriter Nic Nassuet a few question. Keep reading, as he explores his unique way to combine punk with folk and dark aesthetics!

“Your music has been described as a unique blend of dark and haunting aesthetics combined with folk roots. How did you come up with this distinctive style, and what inspires you to create such genreblending music?” Great question.  The short answer is that I didn’t come up with anything.  I didn’t even know that I could write music, but sometimes things show up in my head and emit this almost inaudible neonatal cry to come into being.  I hear songs in my dreams, mostly, but I also hear them throughout the day at random.  I have to stop and hum them into my phone then figure out what instruments they are and how to play them later.

“She Rides Moonlight” is a good example.  I had never even touched a mandolin before but ordered one because that’s what the voice said to do.  When it arrived it was in tune and “She Rides Moonlight” immediately came out of my hands as I unboxed it.  That’s what the music wanted.  It needed a mandolin to make that song come through me even though I don’t know the first thing about the instrument.  I don’t know where it comes from.  Sometimes it can remain silent for years.  Those can be dark years… “Could you tell us about the creative process behind your track 'Pact'? What motivated you to explore its particular theme?” Pact just fell out of the guitar one afternoon, and the lyrics flowed from there.  During that period lots of things were coming to me.  I don’t believe in ghosts, and I don’t disbelieve in them either, but I was sitting on the bed one day doing something on my laptop and a presence, as clear as sunlight, showed up and started singing her story in my head.  I wrote down what she sang about being entombed in a stone wall on her wedding day as her mother leapt into the sea out of grief, then I went to the guitar and immediately found the chords.  I’ve never played those chords before.  I wouldn’t know how to find them if you paid me to.  I don’t know notes and chords.  That song was “Immured” and it did really well.  I hope to re-record and re-release it pretty soon.  I have some great Grammy nominated string musicians on board. Pact wasn’t as clear a presence, it was sort of like catching scents in the air.  You sit there, and the sounds appear in your mind, and if you relax your critical ear and just accept that it is happening, and listen in a relaxed state, those sounds form words and then you realize the theme of the piece.  Sometimes it is a real surprise to me.  I can’t sit down and say “I’m going to write a song about this topic,” and have it work.  Every single time I have done that it has been just awful.  I wish I could do that, like composers do.  “Your covers of Misfits classics, like 'Die Die My Darling,' showcase a fusion of punk and folk influences. How did you discover your interest for both genres?-

I’ve always loved the sound of acoustic guitar.  My mother used to play and sing for me as a child, and I wanted to be able to do that, too.  I’ve never been into folk music, to be honest.  I love some of what I hear in that genre, it just isn’t what I put on my playlists.  I found my love for punk as a pre-teen.  I hated school, and teachers, and the entire concept of being “moulded” by this hallucination called “society” into what someone else thought it was best for me to be.  Punk was irreverent back then.  The Misfits were especially irreverent.  These were themes that I would have been grounded or suspended for discussing at home or in school, yet they were singing them loudly and it sounded like damn good rock and roll!  I was hooked.  I guess that when you have an angry anti-conformist heart, and an acoustic guitar, this is sort of the end result, LOL. “Your vocals in 'Pact' carry a strong storytelling quality, akin to folk and blues traditions. When writing songs like this, do you come up with the music first or do the lyrics come first?- Thank you.  The music almost always arrives first.  I hear that, then sometimes I get other parts or pieces of the song later, sometimes months later.  Often some vowel sounds, or a phrase of a chorus will come through on the music and then the lyrics kind of build themselves around that. “The connection between 'Pact' and the old House of Blues on Sunset Strip, along with Robert Johnson's legend, is intriguing. Could you delve deeper into the significance of this connection and how it influenced the creation of the song?"- If it had influence over the creation of the song, I don’t know that I should really be talking about it. I didn’t know that the house of blues was made from steel taken from the intersection where Robert Johnson sold his soul.  I didn’t even know who Robert Johnson was..  Pact had come to me a few days before that first show at the House of Blues and I was hoping to premiere it to its first audience somewhere cool.  We were invited to play in the foundation room at the House of Blues, which was a private club that cost thousands a year to be a member of.  I had been there once before on invitation of the owner back when I was an 18 year old private investigator and it was wall to wall celebrities back then.  I was excited to return as a musician.  It felt really meaningful. I didn’t know that it was the opening night of the Sunset Strip Music Festival, or that the House of Blues was the opening venue for the Festival, so we were surrounded by big names doing professional things and it all came as a total surprise.

Out in front there was a sign that said “This House of Blues is made from steel taken from the intersection where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil,” or something like that. I took a picture of it that I’ll send to you.  The sign, and building are gone now. I had come prepared with a song about soul selling at the crossroads, and that song carries instructions in the Hoodoo tradition if you listen closely to the lyrics.  The instructions in the song “Pact” are to take a song with you to the crossroads as an offering to make the deal, and unbeknownst to me I had arrived at the most infamous crossroads in music history on the most devil beloved street in rock music history along with my song-gift.  I guess it was prophetic in a way. After that show we ended up taking our first red carpet pictures right where all the big names had been.  Over the next few months my dear friend, who was a guitar tech to the biggest names in the industry, said “I’ve never seen any indie artist blow up as big as you did after your first release.” Do you have any plan to tour in support of this release?

I didn’t have any plans for it, but it looks like something is brewing.  I’ve got a release party for “Pact” at this awesome spot in Topeka, Kansas called “Two Wolves”.  It’s a really groovy art collective that attracts some ridiculously talented musicians.  We’re going to throw a fun early Halloween party and bring in some special guests.  I was invited to perform at a benefit on October 27th, the Friday before Halloween, and I’m completely blown away by the fact that I just found out that I’m playing a gig with the former singer of the Misfits next month.  I haven’t played a show since the Pig and Whistle on Hollywood Boulevard the night before the pandemic shut down all of the venues for a couple of years, so it’s a bit overwhelming.  I guess that the music wants a tour and wherever the music leads I have no choice but to follow.  Everything collapses and degrades when I ignore the voice, and it seems as though every impossible wish is granted when I listen to it.

Thanks so much for your time and for listening.  You do great work.

https://www.instagram.com/nicnassuet/?hl=en

[upmala]

late night snack & read // early morning tea & music stream.

a few words on the car: i’m camping out in the car over midsummers, and when driving over to the camp spot, i realised how having a car for the past half year has had a positive influence on me as a person. like, i don’t even live in a country where it’s necessary to have a car - it’s a small country, regional busses are very popular, cheap and well-maintained (all of them have wifi! idk if this is normal in other countries, but i think it’s awesome!) and every single city is walkable and bicyclable.

but being able to go anywhere at any time without relying on anyone’s help, without worrying about schedules and how to get back, and how to optimise backpack weight, it’s unexpectedly freeing. i couldn’t take overnight camping trips before, because of all the stuff i’d have to carry with me - and i’m not that into it to spend loads of money on professional lightweight camping gear. heck, i wouldn’t take spontaneous daytime hikes either - i’d have to carefully plan out the bus schedules, purchase food beforehand and just generally there’s a much bigger number of things that can go wrong.

now it is simple - i can lug whatever i want with me, i can sleep comfortably in the car, i can go to any gas station at any time if i get hungry, i can decide to go home whenever i want, etc, etc.

and unexpectedly, it’s boosted my confidence as well. driving through the beautiful countryside, loudly singing along to my favourite tunes, there is something filmlike and awesome about it. it makes me feel good. so yeah! very grateful for this period in my life.

[lewisdiary]

Amber Lounge

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

WARNING: 18+, NSFW, explicit, alcohol, drugs, unprotected sex.

Word count: 3,600+

What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a club all by herself?

Another party, this time in Monaco. Your glass, filled with what seemed like a very expensive gin, vibrated to the the loud music playing in the club.

Let loose. You thought to yourself slightly lowering your body-con black dress and searching for familiar faces.

You looked around the VIP party you had been invited to. Ever since your dad's business put him on the "Forbes Richest" list your reputation had skyrocketed along with it. You were an A-lister yourself at this point, everyone longed for your appearance at their events, and as if your life depended on it, you attended. Your social media and events presence had helped you befriend the hottest models and richest rappers in the game and you quite enjoyed the lavish lifestyle.

You and your dad had flown down for the Monaco GP weekend, courtesy of the team principal of the most popular F1 team, Toto Wolff. Surprisingly, it was your first Grand Prix, and probably your last. The hospitality was, as usual, amazing but you found watching cars go around in circles slightly boring.

You took a rather large sip of your gin and started to tune into the beat, your body processing the large quantities of alcohol you had decided to ingest.

Because you hadn't been invited to the Grand Prix by a driver in particular and had failed to engage with any during the "boring" weekend, you found yourself attending the party and having to fit in all by yourself. Making your way through the club you encountered a few drivers, whom you recognised and recognised you, and their respective guests. You knew you weren't an easy face to forget, so it didn't take long before a few people started commenting about your presence.

Making yourself comfortable around the younger squad of drivers, your body swayed to the loud music that hit your ears. Your eyes shut as you engaged with the environment, allowing the melodies and strong base to sway you in.

"You're a Mercedes guest, aren't you?" A familiar voice rang through. Russell. Your eyes opened to look at the briton who stood very close to your ear, making sure his words were getting to you just fine. You nodded quickly, downing your drink before replying to him "Well, my dad is. I just tagged along"

His lips turned into a small smile as he took a good glance at you, leaning closer again he chatted a bit more; "and what did you think of it?"

"Not my vibe" You shrugged jokingly. "This though, is!" You put your empty glass down in a nearby table and pulled George into what seemed like a circle of people dancing, as In Da Club by 50 Cent started playing.

You both started dancing to the song, George's friends joined, and in no time you set yourself in the party ambient, drenching yourself in alcohol as more bottles were brought in at the request of Russell, Latifi, and a few other younger drivers you hadn't gotten your way around.

0 To 100 / The Catch up - by Drake came through the speaker.

This DJ knew his set you thought, before excusing yourself from the crowd that had embraced you. Feeling the need for a switch of environment you made your way to the bar. On your way, you drunkly greeted a few familiar faces, Bella Hadid and what looked like some actors who had come down for the Grand Prix.

Sitting on an empty stool at one of the bars in the Amber Lounge you asked the bartender for a glass of your favourite, gin. Your head nodded to the beat, it pounded hard. You knew you were more than tipsy at that point, but there was no sign of slowing down.

"Ayo! Bring us a bottle of your most expensive Prosecco!" You heard a voice yell through a line of people standing at the bar. A familiar voice.

His voice sang along to the lyrics, you were tempted to turn around to check who was yelling right behind your ear but your motion to turn was interrupted by the glass of gin you had requested being brought to you.

As you fiddled with the purse that hung around your shoulder, looking for your card, the familiar voice spoke again: "I've got that for you. On my tab, Mikey!" This time much closer to you.

You turned to your left, wanting to finally put a face to the voice your alcohol-filled brain didn't seem to recognise. Looking at the 5'9 figure standing next to you, it hit you that: you had failed to engage with any driver during the Grand Prix except for one.

It was more than obvious that you weren't going to be at the Mercedes garage and not meet their prominent stars. Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. It was Qualifying day and after an amazing performance from both drivers, Toto, at the request of your dad had introduced you to his prodigies. You had gotten the chance to meet the drivers and congratulate them both for their front-row quali positions.

Bottas was the quiet one, after meeting you and your dad he excused himself to his driver room. Lewis was more of a personality, he knew your dad from reading about him and their conversation seemed to flow from F1 to business to possible future lunch meetings. He glanced at you from time to time, the conversation didn't interest you but he somewhat did.

You knew Lewis was quite the party boy and a ladies man, it suited his champion attitude, so seeing him at the club did not surprise you at all. He had won the Grand Prix you remembered, your mind doing a little backflip to being at the back of the garage and giving him a quick hug after your dad had burst into "here's the man of the evening" compliments.

Your altered system forced you to bite your lip at the thought of Lewis Hamilton standing in front of you.

"Hey, it's you!" His eyes widened at the realisation, his breath smelled like nothing but expensive alcohol. He was drunk as a skunk, and to your liking, he looked extremely hot.

You widened your eyes jokingly, following his cue. "It is I!" you laughed slightly, trying to mock his accent.

"I met you on Saturday, no? Your dad is Toto's friend. What's your name again?" He grabbed the Prosecco bottle that had been handed to him and moved an inch closer to you.

"Yep, that's my dad! Y/N!" you yelled through the gap left between the two of you.

"And what's a beautiful girl like you doing in the club all by herself?" He asked before singing to a few lyrics of the song that currently burst through the speakers that were placed at the bar.

"Enjoying herself." You grabbed your glass and, nodding at him as a thank you for the drink, you stepped down the stool and made your way to the dance-floor. Nervously nibbling on your bottom lip at your choice of words you wondered if a little mystery was enough to keep Lewis interested.

Your hips moved at the sound of Ginza by J Balvin and almost immediately, you felt a body swaying along with yours. Him.

Lewis took a sip of the Prosecco bottle he was meant to take back to his group of friends as his own hips fell in somewhat of a sync with yours, his free hand grabbing your left thigh pulling you closer to his body. His motion felt like a cue for you to bend slightly and begin to grind on the "man of the evening", he deserved a little fun after the hard-work he put out on the track.

Eyes started turning to you two, as your bodies got carried away by the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. You shrugged out the thought of being watched. If Lewis was comfortable, you were too.

"Y yo hoy estoy aquí imaginando. Sexy baila y me deja con las ganas" Lewis sang along to J Balvin but he sang it so close to your ear, he knew it was meant just for you to listen. His raspy voice sent chills down your spine, you didn't know what the words meant but he made them sound sexy and it empowered you. You chewed on your bottom lip as the DJ switched songs and moving away from him you sipped on your gin, cheering at the former drivers that had put you in the mood to party, who shot you back just as happy glances.

"Come to my table! Let's have some fun!" Lewis' drunk voice echoed through the pounds of your head. He was quick to grab your arm and pull you through the crowd to a more secluded area.

"Y/N everyone!!" He yelled once you approached a group of what looked like more mature and older people. Everyone turned their heads at the two of you and cheered loudly at Lewis' introduction of you, almost as if they were celebrating you tonight.

Daniel Ricciardo. Winnie Harlow. Neymar Jr were some of the faces you were able to recognise at first glance, everyone seemed as slapped as you, some of the girls were high as kites twerking on anything they could put their asses to. Now this was more your vibe.

As the night went on; more drinks came, you danced and enjoyed yourself. Sexual tension between you and Lewis had become hard to ignore and the amount of alcohol in your body had you craving him... all over you.

It's now or never you thought to yourself.

Downing your, God knows what number, cup you looked at Lewis who found himself having fun with his mates, his smile widely spread across is face, revealing his perfectly sharpened canine teeth.

If anything, we blame it on the alcohol.

You mentally thanked the Dj as Wild Thoughts by DJ Khaled started playing. Lewis' eyes darkened as he noticed you approaching him. Your dress hugged your body perfectly, making your figure hard to look away from. In a blink of an eye you had found your groins against one another's grinding on each other to the beat.

As the song went on, Lewis spun you around, having you against him drove him crazy. His hips thrusted your back, his fingers digging the skin on your thigh. He licked his lips at the thought of you, and almost as if he had been waiting for this moment the whole night, his lips met your bare shoulder.

Without ungluing his figure to yours, his tongue slowly traced your neck, sending chills down your spine. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He mumbled in between kisses on your bare skin. He didn't have to win you over with compliments, he already had you.

You could feel death glares from Lewis' female guests because of the moment you and the world champion were sharing. You used the uncomfortable stares as your cue to leave, turning to Lewis for the first time in what seemed like a long night, you stared into his - slightly droopy from the alcohol - brown eyes. Your arms automatically swung to his neck, he had yet another bottle in his hand but did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I don't think your friends are enjoying this little show we're putting on" You mumbled, signalling to the ladies who stood in the corner. Your eyes went from staring into his to looking at his lips, your breathing had become intense as you felt Lewis's body awfully close to yours, his member slowly caressing your upper thigh. He licked his lips, noticing how badly you stared. At that point of the night neither of you could contain how much you craved one another.

"They don't have to watch" Lewis whispered, shooting a quick glance at the models who seemed rather upset with his lack of attention on them; back to you, before grabbing your arm and pulling you through a back door that was close to the VIP area you were in, he mumbled: "I know a place".

You found yourself stumbling through the front entrance of a rather fancy building. Lewis lived conveniently close to the Amber Lounge, and in no time, his body guards had escorted the two of you to the penthouse.

Thanking his driver, you made your way into the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut close, Lewis had you pinned against the back wall. His eyes darkened again, his breathing hard over your lips.

Even drunk as a skunk, he looked and smelled amazing.

You watched him bite his lip as he leaned closer, making you crave his lips on yours even more.

It felt like heaven. When Lewis finally crashed his lips on to yours, his body weight causing you to lean further against the wall... it felt like heaven.

You groaned as the kiss didn't last as much as you wished to, the ding from the elevator interrupting it.

You were given no time to take in the surroundings of Lewis' perky home. He placed his arms on your hips and you automatically straddled him, the heat was back like it had never left, your lips were on his yet again. He kissed you so passionately you thought he was compensating from not doing it earlier. He knew his way through his home, and as your tongues met, he quickly found his way through his living room to his astounding suite.

Lewis dropped you on his bed, his eyes filled with lust and hunger. Behind him, the view of Monaco’s nightlife and beach shone through his large windows, the moonlight setting the perfect ambiance for what seemed like an exciting night for the both of you.

Your thoughts were distracted by Lewis’s touch. He had quickly removed his shirt and tossed it aside, his fingers now rested on top of your wet panties, his thumb caressing your clit. His body hoovered over yours, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, allowing your body to feel Lewis’ movements on your area.

“Look at me” He demanded, his voice as deep as you’d ever hear it. “You’re so wet” He mumbled once your eyes obediently met his. Starving for him inside of you, you pulled your dress up your waist not once breaking eye contact, which caused Lewis to smirk. He attacked your neck, sucking and nibbling on your bare skin, his fingers slid your panties to the side, and with a small bite to your neck he inserted two fingers into you. You gasped at his sudden movement and your walls clenched in pleasure.

“Fuck!” Lewis muttered as he felt your juices coating his fingers. As instinct your knees bent, allowing Lewis to get a better grip of your inside walls. He picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. As your moans started getting louder, you feared Lewis had neighbours so you instantly bit your lip trying to contain your pleasure-filled screams.

“L-Lewis” you stumbled on your words, he knew just how deep to thrust and how much to curl his fingers. You longed for him inside you, your fingernails digging his tattooed back and your head titled back.

“Yes, baby?” He was enjoying watching you squirm in pleasure, his member hardening at the sound of your voice in his room.

"Don't make me wait" you pleaded, not being able to contain your hormones any longer. You wanted him inside you: “I want you. I want you to cum with me”

As if your wish was his command, Lewis’ drunk figure moved his hand away, he stood in front of the bed, and you took the moment to remove your dress, revealing your perfectly shaped and tanned body. Lewis, on his turn dropped his jeans. Both of you stood in awe of one another for awhile, hunger rising. He observed your breasts, and you engulfed the length of his now erect shaft.

You slowly removed your panties and dangled it in front of him, teasing the man that was going to eat you alive, the room smelled like expensive cologne and Prosecco. Lewis jaw hardened, his tattoos made his muscles more prominent... You just wanted to dig your fingernails on his biceps at that stance. He grabbed the panties off your hand and threw them to the side along with your dress and swiftly made his way on top of you. Cupping your breast with one hand, his thumb played with your nipple whilst the other filled his mouth. You lowered your hand and began to stroke Lewis’ cock; as soft and deep moans leaving his throat, your spine shivered.

“I want you so bad” You whispered, placing Lewis right at your entrance, the tip of him rubbing against your wet and now throbbing clit.

“How bad, baby?” He asked, pecking your lips. With his voice in a demanding whisper, you were quick to realise how much of a tease Lewis was, he enjoyed making his victims beg for him. He knew how good he was.

“So… so bad” You moaned into his lips. Just as much as Lewis, you knew what you wanted and you too knew how good you were. Not wanting to waste another second you took charge, placing his shaft at your entrance you helped him penetrate you. Lewis broke the kiss he had engaged in with you, a loud moan leaving his mouth once he felt how tight you were.

It took you a second to adjust to Lewis’ length as he made his way in and out of you, although intoxicated, he noticed your slight discomfort: “Are you alright?” he questioned, his furry brows tightening.

“Shh… don’t stop” You reassured him. With your hand around his neck you brought his head down to yours, you had grown to love his soft lips around the flesh of your neck. At your call, Lewis lowered his weight on to you and steadily picked up the pace. Every thrust brought you closer to an orgasm, his cock rubbing on your perfect spot.

You clenched your walls, digging your nails through his tattooed back. “Fuuuck!” You heard Lewis scream in absolute pleasure at the tightness around him. Lewis’ thrusts became deeper and faster, his forehead had grown sweaty, the room steamy. As he picked up his pace, all you could hear was small grunts from his perfectly sound voice and the clapping of his thighs against yours.

“I’m gonna cum” He moaned through shortened breaths. His warning brought you to your dominance senses. The thought of having Sir Lewis Hamilton begging you to cum extolled your ego. Without thinking twice you shifted your weight to the side, motioning what was well understood by Lewis. It was your turn to be on top.

Lewis, at the realisation that he was sleeping with a woman who knew what she wanted, eagerly obeyed and placed himself closer to the headboard of his king sized bed, not minding that you had interrupted his almost-orgasm.

Feeling good about impressing the seven-time world champion you slowly crawled up to the man that looked at you so hungrily, lust in his eyes only becoming more and more visible. His jaw clenched again as you straddled his waist, his now, thanks to you, cream-full cock entering your threshold again. Another loud moan, this time from the both of you. You bent over slightly, placing your hands on Lewis’ shoulders for support as you started bouncing on him.

“Just like that baby” He sang to you, one hand was tightly wrapped around your neck, and the other slapped your ass as hard as he could bring himself to. It drove you crazy, it made you want more of him in you.

Your breathing had gotten harder and your forehead had met his. “I want you to cum for me” You demanded. Lewis knew he was close to his finish line, but wanted you to finish with him. As you seemed to enjoy, he kept his veiny and robust hand around your neck, giving it light squeezes every time he felt you really deep.

His free hand moved to your clit and you shot your head back in utter pleasure.

“Right there… Keep it right there” You begged, knowing exactly what was going to happen in the next thirty seconds. Lewis, in satisfaction, rubbed on your throbbing bud whilst his own hardened at every movement of yours. His teeth met his bottom lip and his eyes fell shut. You knew he was ready to release, but you weren’t going to let him off easy.

“Look at me” You called. Your ego growing with every sign of obedience from Lewis. His eyes watered a little, you knew you had him, and every thrust brought you both closer to your orgasm.

“Baby…” he whispered, his hand still in circular motions around your clit, his grip becoming weaker “Please” he begged, at no point breaking the eye contact you called for. Pleased with his submission, you mumbled: "Don't stop", and he understood the assignment. You both picked up the pace, his finger on your wet clit in circular motions and you on top of his cock, bouncing up and down.

Before you could say knife you felt your legs shaking, your whole body trembled as you released all your juices on Lewis' hand and cock, a loud moan leaving your throat, your voice echoing in the penthouse.

Sorry neighbours.

And with no time to digest the wonders that Lewis had done to your body, he quickly pushed you off him and you obeyed, his pulsating cock releasing right then and there, on his six-pack filled torso.

You were both breathing heavily, laying on your backs. The comfort of Lewis' bed took you in, your head pounding again from the intoxication, the large amount of alcohol still in your system. He chuckled slightly at the turn of events of that Monaco GP Sunday, his gaze never leaving his ceiling.

Eager and starving for more of you, Lewis found in his deep breaths strength to ask: "When do you leave?"

[67impalaandwhisky]

Get Some Rest

Daryl Dixon x Wife

Rating: 18+

Chapter 6.

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst

Warnings For This Chapter: Mentions of Carl Being Attacked, Fellatio, Praise, Cum Swallowing, Protected Sex, Daddy Kink, Love Making

You never really knew just how sneaky Daryl could be. 

For someone that's gone pretty much his whole life thinking that he's nothing, he's gotten pretty damn good at getting places unseen or unheard of.

You've been trailing these pieces of shit for days, ending up big trees at night time to avoid walkers or being seen.

To watch this group of men so avidly, you've become repulsed with how they behave. They have no dignity, no class and they're all nothing but animals in a skin suit.

Your boyfriend constantly keeps you behind him, he doesn't wanna know what these animals would do to you but he could only imagine.

It's easy to know where they are at all times, they make killing walkers a game and they whistle so loudly it's like being able to pinpoint them in this large forest. 

While Daryl finds it easy to try and ignore them, you're always on the lookout.

"Hey," your boyfriend whispers, handing you a piece of cooked squirrel.

It's been like this for a few days, cook quickly and burn out the fire, take one maybe two sips of water a day and stay as quiet as possible until they catch up to whoever in your group they're threatening.

You hope that they're looking for Carl and Rick, maybe even Michonne and Maggie -- even though that sounds so fucking terrible.

"How are we gonna save them?" you murmur into your boyfriend's ear when the birds decide to sing a sweet tune for the morning sun.

He slowly looks over at you, shaking his head in reply as if he doesn't know what to say.

Well you're both gonna have to think of something at some point, you can't just fly by the seat of your pants forever.

"Okay," you breathe, taking a bite of your squirrel.

"We got a live one, boys!" 

Daryl tugs your head behind his back, slowly picking his crossbow.

He waits a moment, trying to decipher where they're coming from. You can feel his heart racing like a horse through his back and it makes your palms sweaty.

"Got a little boy, a white man and a black lady."

The words are carried on the wind and through the thick trunks of trees to bless both you and Dixon's ear.

You turn to each other with wide eyes, your heart starting to beat with cacophonously loud joy.

They're alright! 

Until these savages get to them anyway.

"We'll hit them at night fall. Let's just take the day." 

Daryl slings his bow over his shoulder. He holds up a hand before keeping his index and middle finger up. He waves his digits towards your right and you slowly begin to move.

You know what he wants to do.

He wants to go around them to get to the group first to warn them.

Daryl takes the now empty red handkerchief from his back pocket, he ties it to your belt loop and then to his loosely. It's so you don't lose each other and even as shot and frayed as your nerves are, your heart sings.

Never has there been a man who's so rough around the edges and yet so soft like your boyfriend.

You trek through dirt, mud, dead animals, even killing a walker or four as silently as possible.

The both of you took a large, long roundabout as per Daryl's orders. You know he doesn't want to mess with these people, they're dangerous by the sound of it.

It's taken you all day and you're so close when the night turns dark.

Crickets chirp and nocturnal animals howl the sounds of the evening when you finally reach a road. 

Daryl pulls you down into some bushes, slowly relieving his back of the crossbow.

You can see Michonne and Rick sitting before a fire and your heart is overjoyed at the sight.

You want to rush out to them, hug them, kiss them but your boyfriend holds you firm with his hand around your wrist.

"We take them out when they roll up on 'em, we're quick shots. We can take them," he breathes, kissing your temple to steady your nerves. 

"Where's Carl?" you whimper, narrowing your eyes at the sight.

Daryl nods his head to the car and you can see the young boy sleeping in the passenger seat.

"Oh thank God," you hiss, pulling the rifle off your back.

When Rick goes to stomp out the fire, all the men emerge from the forest behind them.

You know that your boyfriend is sizing them up, trying to make sense of who's the most dangerous.

"You take the right, I'll take the left." he mumbles into your ear.

With a definitive nod, you begin to slowly make your way around the bushes.

You're so focused at the task at hand that you can barely hear what Rick and the other group leader are squabbling about. 

You tiptoe behind the car and when one of the men pulls Carl out of his seat and begins to unbuckle his belt, you see red.

Training your eye on him through the gun sight, you pull the trigger.

The gun shot is so loud that it allows Rick the time to head butt the man behind him.

"Y/N!" Carl sobs, rushing over and giving you a hug.

"Get down, doll," you whisper, kissing the top of his head and shooting two more men. 

Carl slinks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist like the frightened thing he is and it tears your heart to shred.

"You're alright." you promise, turning back to him when the situation has been taken care of.

Michonne wraps you into a big hug, pressing her forehead to yours and you both give each other the typical wink that's become routine throughout your sister-like relationship.

"Baby? You alright?" Daryl inquires, hugging Rick.

"Yeah, we're good over here," you call back, opening the car door and ushering both Michonne and Carl in.

"Y/N? Saving my life? I'll be damned." Rick muses, hugging you when you walk closer.

"You're very funny, Rick. Might have a job as a comedian if we ever get out of hell," you chirp, knocking him with your hip.

"How the hell did you find us?" he asks, slipping off his coat and throwing it over your shoulders.

"We were trackin' you for a few days and then we caught up with these nasty sons o' bitches. Knew they were taking us right to you." Daryl replies, slinging his crossbow over his back.

"Go in the car and get some rest. We'll take first watch," you promise, running your hand soothingly over Rick's arm.

He gives a small nod, shaking his head at the men around him that now lay on the ground. He's covered in blood, completely frazzled by the look in his eyes and it hurts to even see him like this.

The leader begins to walk away before stopping short and turning around. 

"You're my family, I just want you to know that. You're my brother and my sister. Having you back… it's everything." Rick announces.

You give him a small smile, feeling Daryl's arm wrap around your shoulders.

"We missed you," you reply and your boyfriend simply nods at the truthful statement.

You both stay silent as Rick rounds the car before entering it.

"Told ya we'd find 'em," Daryl quips, kissing your forehead.

"You were right, as per usual," you giggle, helping him pick up some strewn clothes on the floor.

"Get a pen, I want that in writin'," he teases. 

You throw a shirt at him with a laugh and he gives you a smirk that lights your heart with adoration.

"Come on, let's cover the car so that they can sleep," he whispers, tossing the shirt back at you.

"Don't tell the next part," you interrupt your husband. 

A knowing smirk etches itself onto his expression and he raises an eyebrow. "And why not? I thought you wanted all the stories to be as authentic as possible." 

"You don't need to tell our baby about… that," you hiss, smacking his arm with the book in your hand.

"It's an unborn baby, it's not gonna remember. I'm tellin' the story, let me tell it." he quips.

Rolling your eyes, you open your book back up. "Fine, but don't be overly graphic." 

"No promises… Right, me and your mama travelled with your aunt and uncles for a good few days before we found a clear village. We decided to stick around for a bit, scavenge what we could, maybe find somethin' to eat…" Daryl begins, laying his head down on your lap and drawing imperfect shapes onto the skin of your belly.

"It's quiet." Michonne announces, looking at the area.

"Maybe we'll find some food," you suggest, holstering your knife.

There are two houses, side by side that look pristine and you nod to them which Rick agrees with. 

Turning your head back to Daryl, you raise an eyebrow. "Go on, show me your skills, girl." 

"If your house is safe, I don't expect to see you till tomorrow morning," Rick quips to your boyfriend who shoves him gently with embarrassment written all over his face.

Daryl's never been forward about anything sexual, he doesn't really need it.

He's never understood women in his whole life and the one woman that might have taught him something disappeared with her Virginia Slims when his childhood home caught fire.

The good thing about the apocalypse is that everything is simple and straightforward. There's no "what are you doing next Saturday night" or "come here often?" It's just backstory and what you have in the present.

Daryl knows he's loved you since the second he saw you, he knows how much he's changed since you came around but there's still that underlying anxiety of 'well, what do I do now?' inside of him.

He's never been a ladies man, he's never been on dates or even flirted with a woman too much before he thought he was coming off creepy.

He's not a virgin, he knows how it all fucking works thanks to Merle and twenty dollars down at Loose Fillies in Decatur but he's no expert.

"Maybe one house w-woul-" he begins.

"Naw, I need my space," Rick quips, patting him on the back with a laugh.

"I didn't know that," you muse, cutting off your husband.

"What?" Daryl mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck.

"That you lost your virginity at a 'Loose Fillies' for twenty dollars. I gave you my last can of beans which was worth at least a hundred bucks. I overpaid," you gasp playfully.

"Shut up," he chuckles, crawling up the bed and knocking his forehead to yours softly. "I was seventeen and never even saw a girl naked. She scarred me." 

"Oh, I see. So that's why it took you so long to get with me? Because of your prostitute PTSD?" you quip.

He nips at your shoulder playfully, kissing the skin the moment you gasp loudly.

"You gonna let me tell my story? Or are you gonna keep interruptin' me to get out all your good jokes?" Daryl inquires, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I have a few more," you giggle.

Rolling his eyes, your husband kisses the crown of your hair. "Anyway…"

Opening the door, you smack the butt of your knife against the doorframe.

Daryl stands opposite you, keeping his crossbow up for any dead that might come out.

You wait another moment, smacking your hand to the doorframe louder and you shrug when nothing comes out to greet you.

"We clear it room by room. Don't go gettin' all heroic," your boyfriend insists, stepping into the house first.

When you shut the door, there's no low growl or thumping or scraping of any kind, there's just silence.

You can hear birds singing from the tops of maple trees around the property and it fills you with a sense of hope, even if it's just for one evening.

You step around the house, putting one foot in front of the other to silence your steps. 

The people that lived here didn't look like they were in a hurry, nothing is strewn onto the floor and there's no garbage around to speak of.

It looks like these people haven't been home for a long while. 

"Clear," Daryl breathes, peeking over the stairwell banister.

"Same," you reply, opening up the back patio door.

Your eyes widen at the detached water system and you can practically cry with the thought that you might be able to take a shower today.

"Y'all got a shower too?" Rick calls, opening up the next door patio door.

You nod happily, pulling up the lever and smiling at Daryl who widens his eyes at the loud clunks the pipes begin to make.

"Check your food, we got some if you don't," the leader breathes, winking at you.

Heading back into the house, you peek into the once clean kitchen only to see it being picked apart by your boyfriend.

"We got pork rinds, canned veggies, s'gehtti o's, soup, one can of beans and somethin' called 'vegan bites.' Whatchu want, girl?" 

You squeal loudly, hopping up onto the island counter and grabbing the beans and a can of mixed vegetables. 

"Them beans were mine," Daryl quips, reaching for the can.

When you hold it up and back away from him, he squeezes between your legs to try and grab it.

"Come on, give 'em up." he grunts, jumping to grab them.

"No!" you laugh, setting them down behind you.

He reaches forward, eyes on the prize and when his head gets close enough you kiss him softly.

His hand stutters in the air, slamming down to the marble island with a thump.

The kiss is slow and gentle until his hands grip at your hips to pull you closer. You whimper into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His fingers twist into the hairs at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer and closer until the kiss is ablaze with searing passion.

"D-Daryl!" you gasp, letting your head loll back when he kisses along your jawline.

"I gotchu, baby girl. Come on, we're goin' in the shower," he whispers, lifting you off the island and putting his hands beneath your backside to steady you.

He makes his way up the stairs, down the hall and to the bathroom quickly all the while keeping his lips trailing over whatever skin he can find.

When you turn on the water and peel off your clothes accordingly, Dixon can feel his heart thudding in the recesses of his chest like a man possessed.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he curses, stripping himself of his clothes.

You let his gruff words shroud you in a cloak of love and the sigh you give when the water begins to trickle over your grimy skin makes him follow you in immediately.

He has his hands on you in an instant, coursing his fingers everywhere he can just to know what your soft skin feels like within his grasp.

You're both teetering on the edge of whether to just enjoy the shower or enjoy each other's company at the moment. 

The water turns brown with how much soot you have on both of your bodies and you take a minute to dance your fingers over the deep scars on his chest.

He follows your gaze, pulling away from you when he catches your soft stare.

"My dad… he, y'know, I've told you before." Daryl whispers, looking up at the ceiling as if it'll make them go away.

Grabbing the body wash from the shower rack, you squeeze some onto your hand and you quickly get to work with cleaning his dirty skin.

You make it your mission to have him sparkling clean and when you cup his balls, he groans so loudly that it feels like the walls are reverberating with it.

Dixon hasn't been touched in a long time… he hasn't even touched himself. There's nothing sexy about killing up to fifty walkers a day. 

"Oh fuck," he seethes through his teeth, pushing his hand up against the wall to keep himself upright.

When he's clean of soap, you begin to kiss down his chest taking the time to stop over each scar.

His hands clench uncomfortably and his eyes squeeze shut at the unfamiliar kindness he feels through your lips.

"Baby," he whispers breathlessly, running his free hand over your head. 

And when you kiss lower… his breath seems to stop altogether. 

You kiss over the long length of his shaft, adoring the gentle gasps and groans he emits. 

"Y-You don't have t-... Fuck!" he cries out, throwing his head back when your tongue swirls around the head before bobbing down.

Your hands grip onto his thighs and you fuck his cock into your mouth diligently. 

You want nothing more than to please the man you love. You want to shower him in pleasure and show him just how appreciated he is. 

You swallow around his length, gasping and choking on the thick girth. Daryl tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to quiet the moans that threaten to spill forth past his lips.

When he looks down at you with lust hooded blue eyes, he's surprised to see you looking back up at him.

He can see the love you have for him, he can feel the passion and wanting through you and he gets just that much closer to relief.

His fingers card through the wet tendrils of your hair and he can't help the words that leave his lips.

"Oh shit, I love you. Fuck, I love you, baby." he cries out, coursing his thumb over your cheek.

You hum in agreement, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure he feels.

He's never had many women, he's never done dirty talk but he just can't help the praise that he speaks.

"You look so fuckin' good with my cock in your pretty mouth. Feels so good," he purrs, whimpering softly when you take him deeper into your throat.

You fuck his cock faster into your mouth, not caring that his precum and your spittle are seeping past your lips like some horny animal.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" he hisses, hooking his hand around the back of your head and thrusting.

You squeeze his thighs tightly, adoring how he keeps his gaze locked with yours.

"Fuck, swallow it, baby girl. Swallow it all. Oh fuck!" he gasps.

You can feel his cock thickening and throbbing within your throat until the gentle ropes of relief hit your tongue.

You swallow his cum diligently, whimpering at the soft whispers of pleasure.

"Goddamn! You're incredible! You're so fuckin' amazin'." Daryl whispers, throwing his head back. 

You give him a moment to come back down to Earth, taking the time to now wash your body until it's clean. You shampoo and condition your hair and when the last drop of soap is out, Daryl is wrapping his arms around you and shutting the water off.

"What're you doing?!" you squeal.

When you wrap your legs around his waist, you can feel his cock hard again by your inner thigh.

"I'm takin' you to bed. You look tired," he quips, walking down the hallway to the master bedroom.

When you enter the bedroom, you take the amount of framed football jerseys and with a thump, your body lands on the comfortable bed.

"Some douche," Daryl muses, looking around the room.

Reaching over to the side table, you pull open the drawer only to find a couple of condoms nestled into the drawer.

"Thank you, jock douche," you sigh, tossing him one with a wry smirk.

Finding the space between your thighs, Daryl coasts his hand over the length of your leg.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he breathes, kissing down your neck.

"Oh, yes. We do," you whine, carding your fingers through his hair.

His lips continue their trail downward, stopping at the mounds of your breasts.

He sweetly suckles from one to the other and with breathless moans, you rip the condom packaging.

Rolling it onto his long length, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss.

He shudders against your lips, pressing the tip to your entrance. 

Daryl runs his thumb over the apple of your cheek and his eyes are speaking a thousand heartfelt words that he could never say aloud.

It's been so long since you've been filled, been stretched, like this and with every inch that he slowly enters into you, it's like you're being consumed.

Your boyfriend groans lowly, burying his face into your neck and you know this won't be one of those rough fucks that leave you wanting more after just a few simple moments.

He waits patiently allowing your muscles to welcome the intrusion and he kisses you languidly to shower you in adoration.

"Daddy," you preen softly, letting your head loll back to the pillow.

Your boyfriend chuckles wistfully, suckling at your skin until you've been marked his and his alone.

"I'll fuck all those daddy issues right out of you, baby girl," he breathes, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

Your nails claw at his tan arms, feeling the muscles become terse beneath your touch. 

"Holy shit, you're so fuckin' tight," Daryl hisses, snapping his hips rougher to yours.

With each thrust and each suckle to your skin, your body sings with euphoric praise.

"Fuck!" you sob out, lifting your hips higher for more.

The sounds are practically pornographic of skin slapping skin and loud moaning that ricochets off the bedroom walls.

Getting to his knees, your boyfriend pulls your ankles over his shoulders. 

"Shit!" you both curse at the same time.

Your back arches off the bed and your vision begins to haze when the head of his cock begins to brush against the soft spot within you with each thrust.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out, gripping on to the bedsheets on either side of you.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so beautiful," he whispers, groaning at the way you clench around him.

His hand reaches down, rubbing fast circles to your clit and your chest heaves at the explosion that's impending within your loins.

"I-I'm gonna cum!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

That's all Daryl needs to hear, he thrusts harder, purposefully rolling his hips to fill you up with every inch he can.

"Yeah, shit. Give it to me, baby girl!" he hisses, pulling your ankles off of his shoulders to press your knees to your chest.

"O-Oh my God!" you squeak, feeling the tightening within you snap.

Your ears are filled with white noise, your mouth has gone bone dry and your body is lifeless and heavy beneath your boyfriends.

Daryl curses deeply, fucking into you faster and faster until his cock stutters within your spent cunt.

"Y/N," he moans softly, burying his face into your neck as he cums into the condom.

"Jesus," you murmur, allowing him to pull you to his side when he lays next to you.

There's comfortable silence for a while and you can hear how erratic his heartbeat is through his chest.

"I love you," he whispers, brushing your hair off your shoulder to kiss at your skin.

"I love you too," you reply, drifting your fingers over the gnarled scars across his torso.

"Yeah? If you love me as much as you say you do… you'll give me them beans." he quips.

Lifting yourself up on your elbow, you slap his chest playfully.

"I need the protein, I'm a growin' boy," he teases, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"Fine, but it's only because you gave me one of the best days in my life," you sigh.

"How many condoms did the douche have? I'll give you more best days," he breathes, opening up the drawer.

With a smirk, you sit up and he pulls out the string of condoms with a chuckle.

"Many best days," he quips, sitting up and kissing your cheek.

"Where are you going with the story next?" you inquire, sitting up and slipping on your shirt.

"The only place I can… Terminus," your husband breathes.

Flinching at the memory, you nod. "Yeah, that fucking place." 

Next Chapter ----->

Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmax, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad, @riverscyberwife, @gnocchey, @fuseburner, @lightning-butterfly, @inthewindsomehow, @rayneill

[biderboy]

I Miss You || P.P + The Marauders

description- peter reminisces in what he had before the war

tw - mention of death, violence, and abuse

-

November 3rd, 1981

peter laid on his back, staring at the old, battered ceiling above him. there were rips and tears, holes covering most it.

he was alone, not that surprising. he’d been alone for awhile now, even before that night.

he winced, closing his eyes before the tears had a chance to surface.

it’s been 3 days.

he could remember the way james’ eyes filled with regret, swirling with the disappointment he no doubt felt the moment he caught peter’s eyes.

he could remember the way he frantically deserved for his wand, but peter knew it was too late, james’ wand laid heavy in his pocket, and peter’s hands shook as he watched his best friend call out to the love of his life, his dying breath begging them to run.

peter winced, he didn’t deserve to call james his best friend, not after what he did.

but he could remember the sickening sound of james’ body hitting the floor, he remembers the flash of light, the laughs surrounding him as his blood rushed to his ears and he struggled to breathe, as if he was the one hit with the killing curse.

and when he walked past, james was clutching onto a necklace he was wearing. peter had to will the tears out of his eyes, that was their necklace.

each marauder had one, a necklace enchanted with their magic, just like the map, so none of them were ever alone.

even remembering it now, peter felt a tear fall from his face. james died clutching that necklace, and peter didn’t even deserve to be thinking of him.

peter didn’t deserve to be thinking about any of them, yet for the past 3 days it was all he could do.

sit in this room, in some abandoned house in the woods, laying on this bed, holding onto a pillow as if it was a life source.

he hadn’t eaten, or drank anything really. he figured he didn’t deserve it, a slow, painful death would be the closest to what he did deserve.

all he’d done was sit and think. he hadn’t let himself cry, or make any noise. but he wanted to, he desperately wanted to. he anted to rip the house apart around him, he wanted to scream until the gods brought james back, he wanted to scratch at the mark on his arm, he wanted to yell for someone to hold a wand to his throat, or at the very least, knock some of his teeth in.

he wanted to break and break and never stop breaking.

the deaths may have not come from his wand, but the blood was still on his hands.

not that the world knew that, no, they thought sirius had done it. sirius black, of all people. sickening, for them to think he’d ever be as low as peter.

peter could remember him too, the way his hands shook and his teeth gritted as his gripped his wand so tight his fingers turned white. he remembered sirius running, tears streaming down his face with cries of “why?” and “how could you?” falling from his lips.

peter wishes he had an answer for him, he wishes he knew.

but in reality he had no reason, he was not tortured, he was not manipulated, nobody was held hostage, nothing. he just did it.

and peter reckons that’s the worst part.

most people have a reason, most people have a story, a loss, something to fight for. and yet peter did not.

he reckons that makes him the worst kind of monster.

he held the pillow a little tighter, breath picking up in his chest.

remus, oh remus.

remus was on a mission, he very well was probably still on that mission.

what would he do? will someone send him a letter? or will dumbledore visit him himself?

will remus be okay? james and sirius, both gone. remus will break down. remus will claw at his skin, throw himself at walls, let himself be used as a rag doll. remus will spend full moons alone again.

peter’s heart stopped.

remus would be alone. remus will get hurt. remus’ wolf won’t know what to do, it’ll rip him apart. remus won’t be able to patch himself up, he won’t be able to get help. remus might just let his wolf ruin him. remus might die too.

“no, no, no.” peter whimpered, shaking his head, breath becoming quicker.

‘sirius will die too’ a voice whispered back to him, and peter squeezed his eyes tighter, willing the bad thoughts to go away, just for one moment.

they can’t die, they can’t. peter doesn’t want them to die, peter didn’t mean for them to die. he was suppose to save them, they can’t die.

peter was pushed back into memories he wished he could forget, but desperately clung onto.

i. peter could feel the blood rushing to his head, could feel his own heart racing to get out of his chest. it was too loud, there was too many people, their magic was overwhelming.

peter wanted to cry, he felt the tears swelling in his eyes. he just wanted to go home.

he gasped as he felt a hand slip in his, turning to his right, he saw a flash of a smile so bright it rivaled the suns, long black hair, blue eyes, sirius.

he tugged on his hand, leading peter away from the crowded common room, into the quiet, safe place of their dorm. leading peter to sit on james’ bed before crouching in front of him.

“pete? are you alright?” his soft voice carried through the room, past the blood clouding peter’s ears, rushing through his body like a deep breath of relief, to have something to familiar.

peter tried to nod, tried to tell him he was okay, he was fine. but his body wouldn’t listen, and instead the overwhelming pressure of the entire day crushed him, letting the tears he’d been so desperately trying to keep at bay, fall.

sirius was quick, eyes scanning to make sure peter wasn’t hurt, before gently pulling the 15 year old to his chest, combing his finger through his hair as he hummed a tune peter could not make out.

peters hands came to clutch at sirius jacket, gripping tightly like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking into the earth, and letting it swallow him whole.

sirius was patient, letting peter cling to him, letting him cry, and he just sat there, holding him together, softly singing.

sirius was always this soft, this gentle, with peter. he cared like an older brother, wiping his tears, promising him it would be okay, swearing not to leave his side. sirius always said what peter needed to hear, sirius was always there when peter was overwhelmed.

now was no different, as he pulled away, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from peters face.

“would you like to take a nap?” he asked gently, gesturing to the giant pile of blankets james’ kept on his bed. sirius did not question if peter was okay, he knew he wasn’t, or if he wanted to talk, he knew he didn’t.

peter nodded, scooting up on the bed, letting himself be wrapped in a blanket that smelled too much like james, but was glad for the familiar comfort. and managed to smile when sirius plopped next to him, his won blanket wrapped around him.

and sirius just stayed there, gently humming that same song, letting peter bask in the presence of not being alone, as long as he needed.

no words needed to be said, peter eventually drifted off to sleep, welcoming the comfort sirius radiated, like the stars on the darkest nights.

and when peter woke up, sirius was still there, reading some muggle book he got, and peter realized then that sirius wouldn’t leave him. that sirius was his brother. that sirius loved him.

ii. peter hated eating alone. it reminded him of his house, how he’d sit at the kitchen table hearing his parents argue, forcing himself to finish the food in front of him so he could go back to his room.

he hated being alone in general, but especially when he was eating. but james had quidditch practice, and sirius was in detention, so he sat down for dinner alone.

granted there was other gryffindors, lily evans was just a few spots down, marlene was with her as well, but he wasn’t that close to them, he didn’t feel safe with them.

peter picked at his food, moving it around with his fork as he felt a sickening feeling wash over him, he hated it. maybe he’d take the food back to the dorm, atleast he’d be in his bed rather than surrounded by people who didn’t notice him.

yet, before he could make a move, someone say down in front of him. peter made a move to look up, eyes going over the tan sweater, landing on a scar ridden face he’d never been happier to see.

“moony” he breathed out, relief washing over him as remus gave him his signature small smile.

“hiya peter, you left without me.” his soft voice carried over the great hall, making peter feel better, safe.

remus was there, casually keeping conversation about the astronomy homework. he kept eye contact with peter, making him feel like the rest of the world dimmed out, and it was just the small safe bubble of friendship, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

especially when remus offered an extra roll, eyes slighlty crinkled around the edges as he smiled. it reminded peter of home, not of the yelling and old rooms, not of the way he mother looked at him durning the summer.

no, it reminded him of laughs shared under stars light, of guitar strings playing loudly in common rooms, of lollipops and chocolate frogs, of train rides and quidditch games.

remus reminded him of home, the home he had here. the one that kept him safe, kept him loved, the home he had built with the marauders. the home they all deserved.

iii. james potter was the human embodiment of the sun, peter was well aware. the same way sirius was the stars, and remus was the moon.

james was always there, even when peter was a kid. to open his arms and welcome him to the light, make sure he was safe.

james was always there, for as long as peter could remember, and he was there every time he needed him.

peter felt his body want to give in as he stepped onto the platform, he mother hadn’t sent him off, not that she genuinely had in years, but she didn’t even bother this year. a push out the door, a threat to try and come back, and that was all.

peter was tired, emotionally, physically. he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get on that train, rather just take whatever he had in his trunk and run off to some muggle town he’d finally be at peace in.

and he was debating, it was their last year at hogwarts, he didn’t need to be there, not really. the war was raging on, the classes he’d take wouldn’t even matter if he died after one step into the real wizarding world.

and plus, the marauders would be fine without him, he thought bitterly. the sun, the moon, the stars. there was no room for him, and that was fine. it was okay, they all looked so happy together, they belonged. he was happy for them, it’s all he ever wanted.

peter went to go turn around, to really leave, when he heard it. a shout, so distinctive it made his heart race and his head turn around.

“PETE!”, and there he was, the sun himself, arms spread wide, giant smile on his face. his trunk was thrown carelessly beside him, as james stated to walk towards peter.

and almost as if james knew, as if he could take one look at peter and tell, he wrapped his arms around him, engulfing him in the warmest, most secure hug he’d had in months.

“missed you peter, you didn’t visit this summer.” there was almost a pout in his voice that made peter stifle a laugh, letting himself be squeezed against the boy tighter, letting his own arms wrap around james and practically melt into the affection.

“sorry” he mumbled, burying his face in james’ chest, eyes closed to prevent tears from falling, what a baby, he thought.

“‘s okay, just not the same without you.” and that, james always knew what to say. what to do. peter felt like he didn’t belong, like he was floating away, but james pulled him back to the ground, every time.

peter wanted to cry, feeling at home with his best friend. he couldn’t imagine why he thought he could do it without him, without them. because here, now, waiting for remus and sirius on the platform, peter finally let himself breathe, let himself feel.

and he felt like he belonged.

tears were finally falling, as peter grasped righting to the pillow, burying his face into it as if it would stop the sobs that raked his body.

it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t.

flashes of smiles and warm hands, star nights and study groups, flying and crashing muggle towns went through his head.

he tried to shake them out, make them stop. he didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think about what he had, what he ruined.

but his brain never listened, and the universe was no longer on his side.

as he thought, without the sun, without the moon, without the stars, the universe was nothing. without them, peter was nothing.

a horrid sob ripped from his throat, his whole body shook, it was cold, but he deserved it.

his hands desperately grabbed into his own necklace, ripping it off his chest and throwing it across the room, a dull thump making its way to his ears.

“i miss you.” he sobbed, as if it would bring them back, as if it would take him back in time, to when remus would wipe his tears, and sirius would read out loud, and james would rush into a hug.

but it didn’t, and it never would.

“i miss you.”

[belettewrites]

Of salve and summer rains

Jaskier hasn’t played the lute for a week, and Geralt worries. No warnings, almost 3k words, link to AO3 here 

***

It had been a week since Jaskier had last played the lute.

They had passed through two towns, he had been asked to play multiple times by travelers they had met, and still his lute had stayed in its case. He had taken it out to take care of it, making sure that it was fine, that the strings were not damaged, but other than that – it had been a week since Geralt had last heard his bard playing, and it worried him.

Playing was Jaskier's way of being himself; he still sang, little ditties on the road to divert himself, soft lullabies at night as he braid flowers into Roach's mane, but the lute had stayed silent.

The weather had been bad, this past week, and Geralt had tried to stay near towns so they would be able to sleep indoors. He didn't mind sleeping outside, though having a roof over his head was nicer than waking up soaked; but it was mostly for Jaskier, who might be immortal but wasn't as resistant as Geralt. And it was better for his lute to stay in dry places – or so had Jaskier said when Geralt had asked whether it was worth it to run to the next town before nightfall.

They were currently staying at an inn, and were nonchalantly looking around them as they were waiting for their food to arrive. Well, Geralt was; Jaskier was slumped against him, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed, clearly tired from walking. His breath was tickling Geralt's neck, but he endured it stoically. He would have faced anything, really, for Jaskier to be able to rest just for a bit, apparently at peace with himself and the world.

The tables next to theirs were full; people were talking loudly, spilling their ale over as they tried to emphasize a point. He could hear a couple arguing in a room upstairs, angry and teary voices harmonizing in a tune that made him want to go back to the quietness of the forest, to soft lullabies barely louder than the crackling of the fire.

The candles trying to warm the room with their yellowish light, flickered every time someone in a hurry walked near them, and the front door which was regularly opened was letting in a cold draft that twirled around Geralt's legs.

Jaskier yawned, and straightened up to grab Geralt's ale, making Geralt miss his warmth. Nights weren't supposed to get this cold around this time of the year, but the rain and the wind were enough to make temperatures drop even though the leaves in the trees outside were still green.

Maybe it’s the weather, Geralt thought, that is making him feel sad. Though ‘sad’ was not exactly the right word. No, Jaskier was more… Well. He sang, but somehow it didn’t feel like it always did, as if it came from the heart of an innocent and joyous bard. He was far from innocent, Geralt knew that, but he still behaved in a way that made it look as if he wasn’t older than he appeared to be. Now Jaskier was – not looking like his age, but the dreariness of his behavior was sure making him look older. Not wiser, it was still Jaskier after all but – yeah, older.

Geralt directed his attention from the buzzing tavern around them to Jaskier, and the way he winced when he grabbed the ale to drink it. Geralt watched as Jaskier tried to school his features, putting the ale down, then wriggling his fingers only to grimace. He glanced up and Geralt wasn’t quick enough to pretend he hadn’t been looking. He grabbed his own ale, internally sighing with relief when the innkeeper arrived with their food. One awkward moment of questions dodged.

So it wasn’t an emotion thing; thank Melitele, because Geralt wouldn’t have known how to deal with it. No, if it only was something about his hand, then – maybe Geralt would be able to do something. Though it made him feel uneasy, that Jaskier hadn’t told him that something was wrong. He knew Jaskier didn’t owe him anything, knew that he was free to do whatever he pleased – birds only sung when they were free – but it still hurt. That Jaskier wouldn’t tell him. It was stupid to feel hurt over this, even more as emotions were a weakness you can’t afford, Geralt, but – still. He would have to ask him, at some point. The question was: how?

He ate his gruel in silence, and tried to be discreet as he looked at the way his bard took his fork in his left hand instead of the right one, how he awkwardly put it down to grab the ale – how his right hand rested on the table, unused, barely moving, fingers bare of any rings.

They left town the next morning and Geralt still hadn’t managed to find how to ask.

***

He tried to be more observant, though. He’d glanced at Jaskier occasionally, almost always finding him clenching and unclenching his fingers, a distant look in his eyes.

So something was wrong with his hand. It couldn’t be broken, Geralt mused, because Jaskier could move it, and certainly would have made it known that he was hurt.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He hadn’t said anything, though he clearly was in pain if he hadn’t been playing for a week.

Have I failed? Geralt asked himself as he and Jaskier went on, walking on a path made muddy by the vicious rains it had be facing. The sky was still threateningly dark, and Geralt looked far ahead as his thoughts went back to Jaskier.

Had he been acting in a way that had made Jaskier believe that he couldn’t tell him if he was hurt? He had always tried to make sure that Jaskier wasn’t in pain – the bard wasn’t the one who had to suffer between the two of them, Geralt thought, and it didn’t bother him to buy salves for Jaskier that he would have never bought for himself. Jaskier deserved the best, and so Geralt did what he could to try to give it to him.

“I’ll find us an inn for tonight,” he said after a silence that had been particularly long, “so your lute won’t have to face humidity again. Though I doubt it’ll rain again.”

“Oh, it will,” came Jaskier’s tired voice, “it will, my dear. Trust me.”

Of course Geralt trusted him. He wouldn’t be in love with him if he didn’t.

“Hmm. An inn it will be, then.”

Based on the way Jaskier used his hand, it had to be sore muscles, or something like that. Maybe he had sprained it, but couldn’t get a hand on a cast? Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell Geralt. Either way, Geralt couldn’t stand seeing him in pain. He’d find them a room in the next town, then would leave to find a healer that would be able to sell him something that would help Jaskier. Yes, he would do that.

Satisfied, and a bit reassured that he finally had a plan, he let himself smile when Jaskier started to sing again, even if it lacked the lightness that it usually carried.

***

“I- bought you this. For your hand. The healer told me it would help.”

Geralt kept his eyes cast on the ground, stupidly afraid of what Jaskier’s reaction would be. He was an idiot for being nervous – he and Jaskier had traveled together for many years, had seen the other in embarrassing positions; and yet, gifting Jaskier this small salve smelling like peppermint to apply on his hand felt more intimate than all the time they shared a bath to save money.

Jaskier was sitting at the table of their room; it wasn’t a great room, but it had a dusty window, under which was the table, and as soon as they had arrived the bard had started to take his journals out of his bags, probably wanting to work on a new song. It was where Geralt had left him when he had gone out to find a healer, and where he had found him again when he had come back thirty minutes later.

He heard Jaskier take the salve and open it; the smell of peppermint intensified, and Geralt tried not to flinch – it attacked his nose and made him want to sneeze, and it covered Jaskier’s scent of honey and wildflowers. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t his favorite scent in the world; though if smelling it meant that Jaskier didn’t hurt anymore, well, Geralt was ready to compromise, because what was love without little sacrifices?

Just when the silence had almost reached the limit between awkward and extremely awkward, Jaskier seemed to remember how to talk.

“My hand – you noticed?”

Geralt tried not to wince; he deserved that, after many years of not paying enough attention, of not caring enough for-

“What are you frowning about? Come sit here next to me, darling,” Jaskier gestured to the other chair, “don’t stand here, you’re making me feel small.”

“You are,” Geralt replied, half-smiling, as he hesitantly sat on the chair, still not looking at Jaskier.

They stayed there, still not talking, Geralt waiting for Jaskier to say something and Jaskier – well, Geralt didn’t fucking know what Jaskier was thinking. The salve was on the table between them, ready to be used.

Then, because Geralt was a man of action, he grabbed it and put some of it on his fingers. Before thinking too much about it, he delicately took Jaskier’s hand, grip loose enough for Jaskier to be able to remove it at any time, and started to apply the salve on the knuckles – they were swollen, and Geralt gulped. How long had they been like this? How did he not notice? Was he that worthless of a man, to not notice when the person he loved the most was hurt?

What he had just done dawned on him. Oh no. It was way too out of line, he shouldn’t have done that – Jaskier was going to hate him, and he was going to lose his companionship and-

“You’re doing it again,” Jaskier remarked calmly, as if Geralt couldn’t hear his heart racing, “the frowning.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, not trusting himself to speak, not knowing what to say, confused because Jaskier wasn’t running away from him, clenching his hand against his chest as if Geralt’s touch had burned it.

Jaskier sighed, and Geralt tensed.

“Darling- you don’t have to do this, you know? The- buying me salve, and then- then applying it yourself-”

Geralt glanced at Jaskier to find that his bard was blushing. But looking at him meant risking eye contact, so he stared down at the hand he was currently holding in his own – it was strange, how good they fit together. He wondered what it would be like, to get to held it in his, to feel Jaskier’s calloused fingers around his own, squeezing, not letting him go, a single point of contact between-

But he couldn’t let himself think about it.

“Hmm. I know. But I still- want to.”

He forced the words out, for Jaskier.

“It’s been a bit more than a week, and you haven’t played the lute, and the path- the path has been silent,” he admitted, “and when I found out you were hurt…”

He looked up, yellow meeting blue.

“Who did this to you, Jaskier? Who hurt you?”

Jaskier laughed, his hand shaking a bit in Geralt’s, who returned to his task, which seemed okay with Jaskier. Relieved that he hadn’t just fucked up one of the most important things in his life, and soothed by Jaskier’s laugh, Geralt let himself relax.

“Oh, darling, no one- well- you won’t be able to fight the rain, so don’t bother.”

“The rain?”

“Oh, it’s- I never told you? No, I supposed I haven’t,” Jaskier mused. “Well, it’s very stupid, but a long time ago I hurt my hand, and now every time it rains a lot, it hurts. That’s why I knew it’d rain again tonight” he shrugged, looking outside at the rain that had started to pour just after Geralt had come back.

“Only the right hand.”

“Yes- you really did notice, didn’t you,” Jaskier sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt said, ashamed.

He saw Jaskier’s hand still, and he felt a weight settle in his stomach and on his chest, making breathing a bit difficult. Then he was no longer holding his hand – Jaskier grabbed his hand.

“Oh, darling – what are you apologizing for? You’re not the one who caused that, nor are you the one in charge of controlling the weather-”

“For not noticing sooner,” Geralt cut in, “for letting you endure one week of this before realizing that it was because your hand hurt, for- for not-”

Not being good enough, when you deserve the best.

“Geralt darling, I need you to listen to me,” Jaskier started, his tone so commanding that Geralt had no choice but to obey, “I hid it. I don’t like it, so at first I ignored it, then when it really started to hurt I thought that behaving as if the pain wasn’t here would make it go away – that’s when you understood, I think. So – I’m not angry at you, darling, I wouldn’t, not over something so stupid – I’m angry at myself, because I hate the fact that it hurts.”

Geralt didn’t reply anything – he didn’t know what to say.

“So don’t you worry – you’re actually the best traveling companion a bard could ever ask for! Buying me meals, then salve, then taking care of me? I don’t deserve you, darling.”

“It’s not true,” Geralt protested, because he had to say something, couldn’t let Jaskier say that when he was right there, when he was the one undeserving of Jaskier’s presence. “You deserve – everything.”

Jaskier smiled a half-smile; it was full of sadness, and Geralt – Geralt didn’t know what to do, because it wasn’t a look that was supposed to be Jaskier’s.

“You do,” he insisted, “You deserve hot summer afternoons spent doing nothing but playing, you deserve – soft things and fine clothes, and- and- and more,” he concluded lamely.

It was something scary to say, to admit that he cared so much. Jaskier had to know, to some extent, that he was dear to Geralt, but this – this was just like Geralt declaring his love or some shit, the whole thing made even more intimate by the closeness of their hands.

The air was still smelling like peppermint, but even it wasn’t strong enough to mask the sudden wildflowers of Jaskier’s happiness.

“Oh, Geralt,” he sighed, “I would- would you mind- may I kiss you?”

Too numb to speak, Geralt nodded, not really believing what was happening. Jaskier got up, and walked the three steps that separated him from Geralt, letting his hands go. It left Geralt feeling cold, but soon Jaskier’s hands were on each side of Geralt’s face, and he found himself being kissed, the warmth of it replacing the one that he had just lost.

Jaskier sighed into the kiss, and Geralt put one of his hand on his hips. The angle of the kiss was awkward, but he couldn’t get enough of it and found himself feeling lost when it ended.

Jaskier settled on his lap, and he put his arms around him to prevent him from falling. Jaskier laughed, hiding his face between Geralt’s neck and shoulder, and Geralt rumbled happily.

“If I had known that it was all that it took, I would have done that ages ago, darling.”

Geralt huffed a laugh and then, because he could, kissed the side of his head.

“Just so this is clear, Geralt – we deserve each other. I- I love you, and-”

“I love you too,” Geralt whispered, “I have for so long. And- it’s not your fault. Don’t be angry at yourself because it hurts.”

Jaskier kissed him again, a soft, tender thing, just at the corner of his mouth, and Geralt smiled.

“Next time you’re hurt – tell me? So I’ll tell care of you. I don’t- I don’t like seeing you hurt, Julek.”

He felt Jaskier smile against his shoulder.

“I will,” the bard promised. “But for now, I think your salve helped, do you think you could-”

“Of course,” Geralt agreed hastily, reaching to grab the salve that had been forgotten on the table, “give me your hand again, but tell me if it starts to hurt, I’ll stop.”

They rearranged themselves to a more comfortable position, then Geralt took Jaskier’s hand, kissed it, and started to massage it again, careful not to press too hard, admiring how warm it made him to be able to do this.

He couldn’t believe he got to have this, to be allowed to care for Jaskier in ways he hadn’t thought he’d get. But they had all of eternity to spend together now, Jaskier sometimes getting hurt and Geralt always there to take care of him. Jaskier’s heart was beating steadily, its comforting rhythm lulling Geralt into a relaxed state. Here, alone with his bard, with Jaskier, everything felt right, as if he had finally found where he belonged – next to Jaskier, whether it was on the path or not. He smiled, and Jaskier kissed him, and Geralt knew without a doubt that the future would look bright for both of them, just because they had each other.

[trashyswitch]

Jeremy Meets Helpy

Chapter 2: Helpy Visits Jeremy Again

Jeremy wakes up one day to Helpy being not only alive and well, but even homeless. So Jeremy takes the little bear under his wing and keeps the bear as a child-like friend.

Jeremy waited patiently for Helpy to return. He worked, came home, and grew a little disappointed everyday that Helpy didn’t come. Tonight was another one of those nights. Helpy didn’t return and Jeremy, again, felt hurt by it. It’s been 3 weeks since Helpy left him. And every day felt more and more sad. Jeremy decided to just hop into bed and sleep his sadness away. He wanted Helpy back really badly, but he knew he was probably very busy.

So...he slept the day away...waiting for Helpy to return...

[The next morning]

Jeremy groaned and slowly started to wake up. The sun had woken him more than he expected.

“Mornin’ Jemy!” something said to him.

Wait...Jemy?!

WAIT A SECOND-

“HELPY?!” Jeremy got up, pulled his covers off and ran to the kitchen. But…

The kitchen was empty.

“Mmmmph! Mmm mmmph!” something said all muffled.

Jeremy turned around and immediately noticed that the blankets were moving. The blankets were flopping around and...shaking like a dog?

Jeremy walked up to the pile of blankets that he just threw off himself, and removed the covers.

The purple bear that was standing there, threw his arms up. “JEMY!”

“HELPY!” Jeremy picked up the bear and spun around with the bear up in the air. Helpy let out little cheers and whooos of excitement as the bear flew around in Jeremy’s arms. Then, Jeremy brought Helpy into a BIG bear hug. “I missed you so much!” Jeremy told him. Jeremy removed him from his arms. “Don’t ever leave like that again! I didn’t know when you were gonna come back! I didn’t know what happened to you, or if you were broken, lost, hurt-” Jeremy was tearing up and starting to cry. “Don’t do that again...please.” Jeremy begged.

“Helpy okay. Helpy here.” The bear told him, placing both its hands onto Jeremy’s. “Helpy miss you.” The bear admitted.

Jeremy smiled through his tears. “Jemy missed you too…a lot.” Jeremy admitted back.

“Helpy home. for ever.” Helpy told him.

“Really?” Jeremy asked, not fully believing it.

“Yeah! Helpy stay now for ever!” Helpy declared.

Jeremy looked at him with some hope in his eyes. “Are you sure? Don’t you...have a home?” Jeremy asked.

“Jemy home. Henry friend.” Helpy said.

Henry? As in…

“Henry Emily?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy looked at him with his eyebrows raised in...sadness. Then, the bear looked down. “Henry…”

Jeremy blinked and realized that Helpy was feeling more than just sad...he was distressed!

Jeremy quickly grabbed this week’s newspaper from the table and opened it to look for some clues on the matter. Anything to tell him what he was sad for. But all he could find was an article on...a building fire that killed two people and...roughly 50 animatronics?!

Jeremy gasped and covered his mouth...Henry was one of the deaths…

And Helpy was mourning him!

“Oh Helpy…” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Helpy and hugged him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Henry...Henry dead...Helpy sad…” Helpy told him.

Jeremy held onto him and cuddled him as he mourned for a while. Helpy was holding onto Helpy for a while, looking sad. Jeremy wasn’t sure if Helpy was actually feeling sadness, or whether his sadness was simulated. But that didn’t matter to Jeremy. He knew that Helpy was experiencing sadness and needed time to mourn.

“Okay. Helpy better. Home with Jemy!” Helpy declared.

“I...Really? You’re actually over it now?” Jeremy reacted.

“Helpy better. Play play play!” Helpy declared happily.

“Play?! Already? I need to eat some breakfast first, little man!” He reacted.

“Picky ups?” Helpy asked.

Jeremy giggled and nodded. “Okay.” Jeremy picked up Helpy, carried him to the kitchen and grabbed a banana for breakfast.

“Nana!” Helpy reacted.

“Yup...a banana.” Jeremy replied.

Jeremy carried Helpy around while he ate the banana bit by bit. The banana was a little soft and brown, but it was at its best state: with spotted brown on the yellow peel.

As soon as the spotted peel was thrown into the garbage, Jeremy lifted Helpy up, and cuddled him into his arms like a baby. While being held, Jeremy tickled the animatronics little belly. “Tickle time for Helpy!” Jeremy declared.

“Tihihihihicklehehes fohohor hehehelpyhyhy!” He reacted, covering his mouth with both his hands.

“Kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!” Jeremy teased him.

Belly giggled and rolled all around like a little panda bear. He looked so happy to be tickled like this! It was evident on Helpy’s little cheeky grin. Helpy looked to Jeremy with appreciation in his eyes.

Then, he got up. “Oh oh oh! Cuddle tickles!” He declared. “Cuddle tickles cuddle tickles!”

“Oookaaay!” Jeremy grabbed Helpy into his arms and started skittering his fingers all over Helpy’s sides and belly. Helpy squealed and giggled loudly. He wiggled and clapped his arms around while kicking his feet like a wild animal.

Oh…wait…he’s supposed to be modeled after a bear.

Riiiiight.

Jeremy booped Helpy’s little nose, and jumped in surprise the moment his little nose made a squeak! Helpy’s nose squeaks too?! What a surprise! Helpy was seriously an entire package of cute created to fit one being! And it was such a joy!

Jeremy resumed tickling Helpy for a little bit longer. He went for his sides like he usually did, and even went for his armpits for a few minutes.

“EEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! JEHEHEHEMYYY!” Helpy laughed.

“What? Ticklish much?” Jeremy teased.

“YEHEHEHEHES! VEHERY TIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Helpy laughed.

Jeremy nodded and moved down to Helpy’s rib area. “Here. Is that better?” Helpy asked.

Helpy nodded and leaned his head against Jeremy’s chest. “Yehehehah. Behehetter.” He replied calmly.

Jeremy held onto Helpy for a little while and started singing a little tune he remembered from when he was younger. He was so happy and thankful to have Helpy back with him. It was like a big brick fell right off his shoulders and into the abyss. Any sign of the brick had fallen away. He felt like a feather...He felt like he could maybe even fly with Helpy around him.

Helpy was more than just a companion for him. Helpy was like the best friend he’s been yearning for since he was younger. It was a big blessing to have such a complicated robot as a best friend. You wouldn’t be able to tell if any of the feelings were true or simulated. So, you’d just handle them like you’d handle any human emotion: With love and understanding.

“Hehehehelpy tihihicklehed ohohout nohohow.” Helpy told him.

Jeremy snapped out of his thoughts and very quickly stopped tickling him.

“My turn to tickle!” Helpy moved to Jeremy’s belly, lifted the shirt up, and blew a BIG raspberry onto his belly.

“eeEEEEEK!” Jeremy squealed, falling flat onto his back.

“Tickles tickles tickles!” Helpy fluttered his left hand fingers on Jeremy’s sensitive tummy and squeezed his left side with his right hand.

“OHOHOHO MAHAHAHAN! YOHOHOU GOHOHOT MEHEHEHE!” Jeremy declared.

“I gotcha! You my tickle me Jemy!” Helpy told him.

Jeremy laughed even more at that. Did he just reference those Tickle Me Elmo’s?!

“Oh, I’m your tickle me elmo now?” Jeremy asked.

“Tickle tickle tickle!” Helpy declared, tickling his belly again.

“EEEhehehehehahahahahahaha! Yohohou’re juhuhust mahahakihing uhup for lost tihihime!” Jeremy reacted.

Helpy nodded and took in a deep breath. He blew a big raspberry onto Jeremy’s belly, defying all the laws of animatronic logic in 5 seconds or less.

“EEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEY! HOHOHOW AHAHARE YOHOHOHOU-” Jeremy yelped as he fell to the floor from all the tickles.

“Surprise!” Helpy yelled happily, standing in front of Jeremy’s face. “Lost time tickles! Jemy tickles!” Helpy shoved his hand into Jeremy’s armpit and skittered all over.

Jeremy was a cackling, wiggling mess…

Indeed, Jeremy was a big wig-waggling mess…

And we all know Jeremy was a wabble-jabbling mess of a being then…

[That night:]

Jeremy was groaning and covering his ears. There were so many people honking their horns in the middle of the street that night...

Wait...Where was Helpy?

Jeremy took off his eye cover and looked around for the bear. “Helpy?”

He looked around the room while more beeping sounds went off on the road from the living room window. He groaned and slowly covered his ears again. The beeping sounds were getting louder and closer to his room…

Wait…

Jeremy looked up and noticed the bear standing at the door. “Oh...Hi Helpy.”

Another honk went off from the window.

{HONK HONK} Helpy’s horn went.

Jeremy groaned and covered his eyes. “What are you doing honking this time a night?”

Another honk went off.

{HOOOOOONK!}

Jeremy growled and held his head. “Stop honking at the cars!”

“They honk first!”

“They’re-...They’re honking at the cars to go faster. They’re not honking at you-”

{HONK HOOOONK!}

*Honk!*

Helpy laughed. “Hahahaha! I honk first!”

Jeremy growled and walked up. “Come on Helpy. Off to bed.”

“No!” Helpy honked his horn in his face.

“OOW! MY EARS!” Jeremy yelled, dropping the bear.

Helpy fell onto the ground with a loud crack sound filling the room for only a second…

Jeremy sighed. His neck broke again. “Greeeeat. Come on Helpy...Fix your neck.” Jeremy ordered. “Then let’s sleep for a while. And no more honking.”

Helpy nodded and snapped his neck back in place like he usually did. Then, Helpy walked himself to Jeremy and raised his arms up. “Up up up?”

Jeremy smiled and knelt down, picking up the bear and placing him on his hip like he would for a toddler.

“Ready for beddy bye?” Jeremy asked. “Would you like me to read you a story? I might have some old classic books in my bookshelf to read to you.” Jeremy asked.

Helpy nodded his head. “Story! Story!”

Jeremy grabbed an old fairytale from his bookshelf and dusted it off a little. It was an old copy of the Paddington Bear story.

Jeremy sat his pillow up and sat down with Helpy in his arm. “A Bear Named Paddington...By Michael Bond and Peggy Fortnum.” Jeremy read the cover.

“Bear!” Helpy reacted, pointing to the bear on the cover.

“Yeah, that’s a bear. A brown bear, to be specific. He used to ride a train and would stop at Paddington Station in London, England, in the UK.” Jeremy explained.

Jeremy flipped to the first page. “Mr. and Mrs. Brown first met Paddington on a railway platform. In fact, that was how he came to have such an unusual name for a bear, for Paddington was the name of the station.” Jeremy read.

“Choo choo!” Helpy said as Jeremy paused.

“Yup! Choo choo!” Jeremy imitated before resuming to read. “The Browns were there to meet their daughter Judy, who was coming home from school for the holidays. It was a warm summer day and the station was crowded with people on their way to the seaside…”

Jeremy kept on reading the book for a long while till he finished it up. He had grown quite fond of such an old classic, and had forgotten how nostalgic it made him feel. Jeremy closed the book and found that Helpy had shut himself down halfway through the book. Jeremy smiled and laid the bear down, before placing the book onto the bedside table and laying down. With Helpy being a new roommate of sorts, Jeremy treated him like a special little Paddington bear of his own. Despite the robotic features, Helpy was a little like a toddler in his eyes. And Jeremy wa so glad to have him...forever now.

Also, this is now a series, known as Jeremy Meets!

[scfttwice]

encore

> jina and dahyun listen to each other play songs on the company's keyboard.

jina was six years old when she first took up piano. even before she was able to walk properly, she had always been fascinated by the way her mother played, nimble fingers skillfully pressing all the right keys to produce a beautiful melody. so in the early stages of her interest, she often sat by her mother's side as the woman played the grand white piano placed in the corner of their living room, watching and listening attentively. sometimes her mother would teach her how to play, other times she let her daughter watch and learn on her own. it wasn't long before jina began taking professional piano lessons.

since then, the piano became her favorite musical instrument. she simply adored how elegant any and every song sounded when played on the piano. so much as listening to the piano being played was capable of soothing her, so ever since she debuted as an idol, she often made use of the company's keyboard to calm herself whenever the stress of fame got to her.

on one of her breaks in between schedules one day, jina found herself heading towards the room with the keyboard. as she neared the familiar door, her eardrums picked up the sound of the keyboard already being played, a cheerful melody bouncing off of its keys. she slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside to see who it was occupying her stress-relief instrument, beaming when she saw that it was none other than her groupmate, her dormmate, her friend, dahyun.

“dahyunnie,” she called out softly, as she entered the room and quietly shut the door behind her. upon hearing her name being called, dahyun's fingers stilled and she looked up, her smile reaching her eyes when she realized that it was jina. “jina, hey,” dahyun greeted her as she approached. “what're you doing here?”

“just trying to clear my head for a while,” the younger of the two girls answered the older, putting the tote bag that she was carrying down on the floor at the back of the small room. dahyun began to get up from the chair she was sitting on. “ah, i see. here, go ahead.”

jina quickly stopped her. “no, it's okay. you can use it first,” she told dahyun, who gave her a puzzled look as she sat back down. jina chuckled softly at her unnie's facial expression, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. “i wanna listen to you play.”

dahyun was hesitant, suddenly feeling a little shy to play in front of jina, but after a little coercing—made effective by jina's puppy dog eyes—she eventually gave in. she turned away from her member and back to the keyboard, fingers on both hands at the ready.

dahyun continued playing, resuming the same melody that she had been playing earlier. her close proximity to the keyboard enabled jina to recognize the tune then. it was the song jina had introduced to dahyun just the previous week; 'good company' from the disney animated movie 'oliver & company'. jina was impressed by how quickly dahyun had managed to learn the song's piano chords, given their lack of free time recently.

as jina listened to the tune, she began to sing along, quietly at first, but an encouraging smile from dahyun gave her the confidence boost she needed to increase her volume. “you and me together we'll be, forever you'll see, we two can be good company, you and me, yes together we'll be.”

dahyun grinned as they finished the song together, enjoying the spontaneous duet with her member, but it soon turned into a bashful smile when jina started clapping. “encore!” she cheered with a wide smile. “encore!”

“hey, stop it,” dahyun muttered. “you're making me feel shy.”

jina ceased her clapping, but her smile remained, eyes sparkling as she looked up at dahyun from her spot on the floor. “but you know i really do love listening to you play,” she said while pouting playfully. “just one more song, pleaseeeee?”

the older of the two shook her head at the antics of her younger member, an amused smile evident on her face. agreeing to fulfill her request, she began playing again, then opting for a slower melody. jina's shoulders relaxed when she realized what song it was; it was twice's own 'be as one'.

her body began to slowly sway left and right to the tune. this time she chose to remain quiet and simply listen to the melody, appreciating the meaningful song and the talent of the pianist playing.

when the song ended, jina gave dahyun another round of applause as she stood up and walked closer to her. “that was amazing, dahyun-ssi!” she complimented, and dahyun smiled up at her.

“thanks jina, but now i wanna listen to you play.”

jina and dahyun swapped places, the former sitting at the keyboard while the latter watched her from on the floor. jina hesitated for a second, her fingers hovering above the keys, as she was deciding on the song to be played. after making her choice, she began playing.

although it took her a moment, it wasn't hard for dahyun to realize that jina was playing another one of their songs, merry & happy. she was well aware of jina's fondness towards the song—from the moment twice first listened to their final recording of it, she had simply fallen in love—so it being her song choice made dahyun smile widely.

jina played the entire song, right to the final key. after ending it, she turned around in her chair to look at dahyun, who clapped her hands as loudly as she could, her cheeks starting to hurt from how much she was smiling.

“bravo!” she cheered. “encore! encore!”

“quit it,” jina whined playfully. “i'm shy.”

jina chuckled softly, her gaze on her unnie overflowing with fondness. “fine,” she breathed out. “just one more song.”

“but you know i really do love listening to you play,” dahyun quoted jina from earlier, her grin still not faltering.

[prettywordsyouleft]

MonX Hospital | Wonho

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader

Genre: paramedic – hospital au / co-workers to lovers

Warnings: naturally given the au of an EMT/paramedic there are more than one reference to accidents, a death and medical terms. Also there is a small fight, kind of a one-night stand but not and I wrote Y/N as on the shorter side, sorry if this offends taller readers.

Word count: 3525

Index: Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | Changkyun

“Hey short stuff!” Hoseok greeted fondly and you rolled your eyes, looking over your shoulder briefly before turning back to cabinets you were stocking.

“You know, if you keep using that term, all the others are never going to stop teasing me for being the shortest here on the force.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! Great things come in small packages.”

Your gaze fell directly to his loins and smirked. “Do they just?”

“Y/N!” Hoseok warned with a hearty chuckle, helping you with your final gear check in the back of the ambulance.

Truth be told, he liked that he got a rise out of you most days. Hoseok had been in the paramedic industry for four years now and out of all his co-workers he had been paired up with, you were definitely the most compatible. You made the long hours worth it, with the endless banter and the equally deep and thoughtful moments too. Working in such a high-stress, life or death environment was never easy to navigate but you had become a well-oiled machine together. Some of his greatest accomplishments had been at your side.

“Ready to go?” you questioned and Hoseok nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat of the vehicle and moving out of the parking lot. Every day was different on the job. Sometimes he spent more time in the office than behind the wheel, not being on the active dispatch team. Today, however, you were on the road, waiting to be called towards jobs that needed their assistance.

You wound down the window and placed your arm on the doorframe. “It’s too nice of a day to be cooped up in here.”

“You say that every day it’s sunny.”

“The sun will be gone soon and replaced with a busy Friday night, I bet you.”

“How much?”

“You’re willing to give me your money so freely?” you teased and Hoseok shrugged. “Twenty bucks that we only deal with drunk people.”

“Alright, the same if we have at least one sober patient.”

It wasn’t the most ideal thing to be waging on what type of work you would have for the night, but it kept it interesting.

And it made you delighted knowing he had to pay up at the end of the shift. “Oooh, we’ve been around so many intoxicated people tonight I think we’re starting to smell like a brewery!”

“You’re not funny,” Hoseok replied as he pulled out his wallet and handed you the money. You grinned and waved it around, doing a little dance alongside it. “What’s fair is fair.”

“You really do like giving your money away,” you stated, giving him a wink before going into the female changing rooms.

Hoseok waited for you to return out of uniform and jangled his keys. “Want a lift home?”

“You just like driving me around, don’t you?”

“I’m used to it, it’s not often you’re behind the wheel because-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” you implored and Hoseok shrugged playfully, leaping away from your frustrated swipe in his direction. Chasing him out to his car, you just missed your chance to catch him when he slipped inside the driver’s side. Sighing and stalking around the vehicle, you slumped into your seat.

“Buckle up for safety!” he reminded as he turned the car on and you shot him an exasperated look. “Hey, everyone of any height needs to keep safe in a moving vehicle.”

“One day I’m going to get you so good and you’re going to regret every quip you’ve said to me.”

You managed to have him whining two days later before your shift, winning an arm wrestle against him twice. “It’s impossible!”

“Why, because your muscles are huge and mine aren’t? It’s called having a good strategy, you should look it up.”

Ducking his head as the other teammates in the break room laughed at his second defeat, Hoseok dived on the dispatch radio that went off on the table. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’ll show you just how good I am at my job instead.”

After attending a three-car pile up, thankfully all with minor injuries and only transferring one patient to the hospital for follow-up treatment, Hoseok glanced at you instead of pulling out of the ambulance bay.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

“You did really well on that elderly woman’s treatment.”

“What are you talking about?” you muttered, picking up the tablet from its stand to log in more details of the event and close the report. “I just did my job, like you.”

“It seemed as if you got that leg injury stabilised before I was finished dressing the second car’s passenger though.”

“Did I?” You stopped tapping on the device’s keyboard and thought for a moment. “I guess I was efficient.”

“You’re a good partner to have in an emergency, Y/N.”

“What’s with all the praises, still upset about me winning earlier and trying to win me over now?”

“No,” he replied genuinely, and then frowned, trying to search for a reason for his compliment. When he started speaking, he hadn’t felt he needed one. But now, as he continued to look for an answer, he felt hot under his collar. Why were you affecting him today?

You looked at him and then smiled gently. “Thank you. I’ve learned from the best.”

“Me?”

“Chief Jung,” you corrected with a laugh and Hoseok groaned, leaping on another dispatched call and answering that they would take it.

The unease Hoseok was feeling towards you was fleeting and within a week it was back to the same constant bickering and comfortable nature you shared. The rapport you had together only strengthened after being faced with a fatal incident as well. It was never easy to be carrying someone in the back on a gurney headed for the mortuary, and the sombre silence in the cab only amplified this after driving back to the base. Hoseok gripped at the steering wheel at a set of lights, knowing somewhere tonight, a family would be grieving over the person they couldn’t get to fast enough to save.

“It’s the worst feeling,” you murmured as he began to drive off. Hoseok glanced at you briefly, your eyes stuck on the road ahead. “Even if it’s part of the job and not my first time, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to like it.”

“I know it’s selfish, but I never want to be on the other side of the situation. I’ve had to treat friends before and I know it’s my job to remain calm and collected in a stressful environment like that was. However, say it was you; I don’t think I would be able to.”

Hoseok reached over to pat your hand lightly. “Hey, don’t go thinking like that.”

“It could happen.”

“It could,” he agreed softly, images procuring in his mind with coming up on a scene and finding you within it. He shuddered and blinked it away rapidly. “But I know you’ll do your best for me. And likewise, I’d give my all to save you.”

“Ah, we’re so emotional,” you stated shakily, clapping your hands together. “Does everyone crack like this after losing someone?”

“I don’t know, but you’re not alone in this tonight.”

You grew silent again until you climbed out of the cab and grabbed your things. Turning to look at Hoseok, you smiled sadly. “Want to go get a drink?”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

Once showered, changed and now seated in a bar with a drink in hand, you seemed a bit more alert. Hoseok smiled as he pushed the bowl of hot chips he had purchased towards you. You eyed the move cautiously. “What?”

“You need more colour in your cheeks.”

“I’m not feeling faint,” you replied sternly, though took a chip and blew on it lightly before chewing it.

“I know, but eating is a vital step in recovery for us.”

“I’d rather drink.”

“It won’t go away with the alcohol,” he reminded and you nodded distractedly. He could tell you were definitely more subdued than usual tonight. Looking around the bar, he pointed across the room. “Want to play a round of pool?”

“You only suggested that since I suck at it.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” he offered and you picked up the bowl of chips and your drink, standing up and gesturing to a free pool table.

It wasn’t until your second game where you had loosened up enough, laughing loudly at sinking the wrong ball than the one you were originally aiming for.

“At least you got one in!”

“I’m so ridiculously useless at this game!” you replied with another laugh, picking up your drink and taking a gulp.

Hoseok sunk the final three balls and you clapped at his triumph. He picked up his jacket and nudged you playfully. “Let’s call it a night, huh?”

“Good idea before you get drunk and start singing out of tune like you did last time,” you quipped and Hoseok reached out for you as you scooted out of his way. Accidentally, he knocked the man at the neighbouring table in the process.

And then, you turned around and let out a string of explicit words. Hoseok was conflicted. On one hand, his heart was thumping erratically at your instant defence for him, but with the way they acted towards him, he wasn’t exactly able to put in his best bid to protect you with the shock still keeping him to his spot.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t-”

A sickening punch came right for him in response and Hoseok was disorientated. He wasn’t expecting it at all and wobbled as he regained his balance. You came into his view immediately, examining his cheek.

He was in a daze, wondering if it was all a dream as he watched you twist the man’s arm who had just punched him now behind his back and made him drop to his knees. Details seemed to remain hazy even when you were helping him into the back of a cab and giving over your address. It wasn’t until you made him sit down on the edge of your couch inside your home and placed a bag of ice over his cheek that he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

“Did you just do all that?” he wondered out loud and you grinned at him.

“What, save your ass from doing something stupid?”

“I think you were a little too reckless compared, don’t you?”

“There was no need to punch you, and he had to apologise for it.”

Hoseok mirrored your grin as you rearranged the bag you were holding against his cheek. And then it faded, sliding forward to kiss your lips.

It had to be the alcohol, he concluded as he passionately continued to kiss you. There would be no other explanation for the hunger that you were showering him in otherwise. You had never expressed a desire for him like this. Although he had confused moments, you were impartial to dating and even frowned upon it in the workplace. So the events of the night and the alcohol consumed could be the only explanation for this.

Not that he needed one right now. He was all too immersed in running his hands along your curves, gasping when you hastily undid the buttons of his shirt. He enjoyed your instant appreciation of his exposed torso, the licking of your bottom lip urging him forward to capture them again, to continue making you his.

And then the fever cast over you caused you to press into his injury, a sudden hiss leaving him and ruining the mood. He panicked. “No, I’m fine!”

“More than fine,” you breathed, tenderly running your hand over his chest. “But you’re injured, let’s stop here.”

“Really?” he asked with disappointment as you puckered up your swollen lips and nodded sadly. You patted him on the chest before getting up, although Hoseok reached for your hand to halt your departure. “Where are you going?”

“To get you some blankets to sleep with, unless you want to uh… share my bed?”

He nodded then, following you down the hallway to your room.

The alcohol couldn’t hide either of your awkwardness now that the heated moment was left back in the living room. You looked at the space and then cringed. “We can’t, you know.”

“I know. Let’s just sleep,” he assured and you nodded, climbing into the bed first before Hoseok followed you in. Tense for a moment, you then rolled towards him, Hoseok slipping his arm after your neck.

Exhaustion washed over you both, pulling you into your dreams before you could question it any further.

When he woke in the morning, you were already up and making breakfast. Hoseok leaned against the doorframe and watched you move around the small kitchen, smiling to himself. He realised he could get used to this type of relationship with you. Those flustered moments and the unease he had felt thus far made more sense now that he had kissed you.

He was certain you could become better partners to each other on and off the clock.

His growing romantic notions were clipped short by your response over breakfast, however.

You smiled at him politely as you spread jam on your toast. “Your face looks a mess.”

“You did a good job of making me feel better.”

“It was a slip-up, it won’t happen again. Alcohol does strange things to people,” you replied and Hoseok’s expression faltered. You continued to eat your breakfast as if the heated embrace you had experienced wasn’t that special. Were you really that unaffected by it? Hoseok was sure you had felt what he had too.

Maybe you were only acting on impulse from the alcohol after all.

So he swallowed back the remnants of his feelings and chuckled. “Right, we had too much to drink.”

“Don’t go getting punched in any more bars,” you added on with a smirk.

And that was that. He had been lucid when it all happened, and he knew you weren’t even tipsy. Yet you both chalked it up as a drunken experience, working together as if you hadn’t had your hands all over his torso as his tongue wasn’t battling with yours all those weeks ago.

He had to admit, he was rather relieved when his planned time off rolled around. For two weeks, he wouldn’t have to endure through the unexpected moments where he’d catch himself thinking back to that night. Little things, such as you tying your hair back, were enough to give him a seconds’ flash of memory from that night.

Yet, you were unaffected, impartial even.

Or so he thought.

It was ironic how life worked in mysterious ways and if this was how he was going to get your attention, he wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to go through with it more than once. The impact of the other car hitting his was deafening, the screech of the wheels across the asphalt causing Hoseok to clamp his eyes shut momentarily.

He had attended far too many accidents but this was his first being involved in one.

When the noise all came to a halt, he opened his eyes again, assessing himself for injury. He had a few cuts on his arm from the glass shards on impact but nothing was substantially painful. Opening the door to his side of the car that thankfully hadn’t been the one to receive the impact, he went over to the driver in the other car, checking them for injuries as he called for emergency services.

Hoseok didn’t even notice it was you called onto the scene at first, too busy applying pressure to the thigh injury sustained on the other driver. However, he knew it was you who called his name out desperately, ignoring the other paramedic who was calling for you to calm down.

You dropped to your knees beside him, shaking visibly as you reached out for his face, looking him over as tears fell from your eyes. Hoseok smiled softly. “I’m okay, Y/N. We need to help Mr Laing here. He’s got three deep lacerations to his thigh and a suspected concussion.”

You merely stared back at him, still holding onto his face. “I told you not to do this to me.”

“Y/N,” he called, shaking you firmly. “Snap out of it, you need to help this man first.”

“I’ll do it,” Curtis announced and pushed you aside, stepping in to stabilise the patient. You seemed to snap out of your initial shock and assisted Curtis with getting the patient into the back of the ambulance. And then you came back to where Hoseok was now standing and took his arm with a tremble. “Come on, you’re getting checked out too.”

“I’m fine,” he told you but you ignored the response, guiding him into the extra seat in the ambulance. You seemed to have regained enough control over yourself to administer the correct care to the patient on the short trip to the hospital, and once you had handed him over to the awaiting medical team at the Emergency Department, you turned back to Hoseok, your knees starting to give way.

Lurching forward, he grabbed you before you fell. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No, I’m in shock,” you told him simply, staring up at him intently. “How dare you get hurt and be there when I arrive on the scene.”

“I didn’t quite expect the guy to hit me in the intersection when he did.”

You shook your head and thumped him on the chest. “What are you doing getting involved in accidents anyway?!”

Hoseok shot Curtis a helpless expression, who gestured for you to stay with him as he closed the back door to the ambulance. Sighing, Hoseok walked slowly inside to the bed a nurse called him to and sat you down beside him. You didn’t let go of his injured arm, staring at the cuts over his forearm forlornly.

“Y/N,” he murmured and you hummed in response, tearing up. “Why are you being like this?”

“Am I meant to be fine about you getting injured?!”

“No, it’s just…” He paused to take in a breath. “I’m okay, it’s just a bit of soreness settling in from the impact and some cuts. I’m not dying yet you’re acting like I’m critical right now.”

“You mean too much to me to end up here like this,” you confessed shakily, blinking as a tear slid down your cheek. “You’re meant to help those who get hurt, not be the one hurt.”

“I know. You really are in shock, huh?”

“I like you too much for you to be hurt,” you continued and Hoseok nodded and then stopped, widening his gaze upon your face.

“Wait, like me too much?”

“Of course, I do!”

“As your partner?”

“As a man,” you corrected, wincing a little when you brushed your fingers too close to one of his wounds. “I know you didn’t think much of that night but I did.”

“Woah, hang on a minute!” Blinking rapidly, Hoseok then grabbed your chin with his uninjured arm to pull your focus up to his eyes. “You were the one who brushed it off for being intoxicated.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a bind by my feelings,” you mumbled and Hoseok laughed. You gaped at him. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Because we’re idiots! I’ve liked you a whole lot too, I just thought it was one-sided.”

“Definitely not.”

“So it really scared you to find me there, then.”

“If you ever get injured without me being there again,” you started, heaving in a deep breath as you shook your head with contempt. “Actually, you better not ever get hurt in front of me again.”

“You’re really protective, you know? You saved me in the bar and now you’re asserting yourself again for my safety. It’s really adorable.”

“I would hardly call this situation adorable, Hoseok.”

He grinned despite your lamenting statement, leaning over to peck your lips. You froze and Hoseok kissed you again before pulling you in closer to his side. He sucked in a breath when it hurt a little to do and you snapped out of it enough to look at him with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, I have paramedic Y/N at my side to help me.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I might need extra treatment after we’re done here getting this sorted out,” he admitted and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Hoseok smirked. “With how much you like me, I might end up becoming lovesick.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” you told him despite a smile tugging at your lips. Nestling into his side, you buried your head into his neck and pressed your lips into him.

“Maybe you’ll need treatment too. But that’s okay, we’re medically trained professionals. I’ll save you and you can save me, deal?”

Looking up at him with another smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “Deal.”

_________________

Next: Minhyuk

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[tentimesthecourage]

Order Made

Summary:  On their journey, Rinku would sing for varying reasons To fill the quiet, to soothe Wild after he came out of a memory, or when he was feeling particularly sad Now on another journey, he tends to keep the hobby to himself, but he can't resist a request from his twin

"Really...?" Rinku gave his twin a look of faint frustration.

It was evening and the group had settled for camp. Whether going through their items, in quiet conversation, or (in Wild's case) getting dinner ready, everyone seemed mostly distracted.

Until Wild had signed a request to his brother.

'Sing?'

Rinku rarely raised his voice above a whisper since he woke up from his 100 year sleep. The only exceptions had been when in battle...

and when he sang.

It had been a hobby back before the Calamity, singing when he wasn't in training, singing when he and Wild were alone, singing when he tended to his weapons. There was always a song on his lips.

After they found each other, he found it was something that soothed Wild even if he had no memories of the times the slightly older brother had done so. The first time he had heard it in so long was after he came out of a memory. He was shaking and crying, unable to get himself to calm no matter how much he wished to. Rinku had pulled him gingerly into his arms, letting both of them sink to the ground as a soft, familiar yet unfamiliar tune carried from him, calming his trembles and allowing him to breathe.

It had been at least a month now, since he had sung. Clearly Wild missed it if his pleading look was anything to go by. A soft sigh escaped Rinku as he ran a hand through his loose for once hair. "Alright... alright... What do you want?"

'The first one that you sang.'

Ah, that one. He should have guessed. Lightly patting his thighs to focus himself, he took a deep breath.

"I think I must have been asked this once. Before I was born, by someone, somewhere. 'Choose one: the past, or the future, And I will allow you to see it. Which will it be? Which will it be?' "

His voice, though still soft, was louder than the rest of the group was used to, so it was no surprise when eight heads whipped to look at the two in surprise.

"Did you know he could sing?" Wind murmured to Four who was stock still.

"No..." The smith managed to whisper. So soft... gentle... and warm. Be still his beating heart.

"And I probably decided on the past. So that, rather than just strong, I could become kind, become kind. So that I could understand what memories are. Next, that 'somebody' told me this. 'I'll give you arms and legs and mouths and ears and eyes, Hearts and breasts and nostrils. I'll give you two of each one. Isn't that great? Isn't that great?' "

If Rinku noticed the stares, he didn't react to them. His gaze was half lidded as he stared into the flames. He still remembered the first time he sang this song. They were eight years old, his voice was too high and it cracked a lot. But Wild, Link, never teased him. He listened with the brightest smile. He cheered for him when it was over before taking his hand and pulling him home. He was so excited to tell their parents how nice it sounded, leaving Rinku red faced and hiding behind his hands with a squeak much to their parents' amusement. Their mother asked for him to sing it for them and bashfully, but gladly, he did so. The reception was even warmer the second time.

"But then I made a request. I said, I'd be fine with just one mouth. So I wouldn't argue with myself; So I could only kiss one person. I want to forget. But somehow, I can't. What do you call this kind of feeling?"

Wild's gaze flicked up to meet his mentor's, grinning at the surprised look in his eyes. He put a finger to his lips, asking them to remain quiet until the song was over and his grin widened as Twilight gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Glancing back at his twin, he noticed the far away look in his eyes. He probably lost himself in memory, which might be a good thing for now. He glanced back at the group and saw Four with a contemplative look on his face. Ah, so Rinku hadn't shared his hobby with him yet? He supposed his twin hadn't found the right song for him yet.

"Looking a little disappointed, The person continued with his explanation. 'The hearts are most important, So I'll put one behind each of your breasts. Isn't that great? Isn't that great?' 　 But, once more, I had a request to make. I'm awfully sorry, but to be honest, I really don't need a heart on the right. Sorry to keep troubling you like this."

Rinku's right hand lifted to rest over his chest, smiling faintly as he felt his heart beating gently against his fingers, as if keeping the beat of a melody only he could hear as he sang. His cheeks flushed faintly as he remembered what he had whispered to Link when they were teens after singing it when they finally had a break from the ridiculous training. Tired and achy, he gave a smile to his twin as he spoke.

When I sing this part... I imagine my partner. I don't know who they are or when I'll meet them, but I know I'll love them with everything I have. And I want to sing a special song for them.

Link had beamed and squeezed his shoulder, assuring him that whoever it was was going to be the luckiest person alive.

He wondered if Four felt like that...

"It's so that when I find that one special person, And hold him close to me for the first time, Only then will I finally be able to feel Two hearts beating, one on each side. The left one mine, the right, yours. The left one yours, the right, mine. So that alone, I'll always be lacking something. So that I won't be able to just go on living alone."

Four felt his cheeks flush lightly, absently mimicking the other male's motions as he rested a hand over his heart. He'd only admit this to himself (themselves), but those lyrics resonated his feelings all too well. Alone, well, as alone as he could be, he always felt like something was lacking. Something important was missing. Joining this group, the feeling had lessened, but it wasn't until they came to the twins' Hyrule... until they met them. Until he saw that tired but wide genuine smile that made his heart flutter that the feeling disappeared entirely. Honestly, he didn't know how he lived with that feeling for so long now that it was gone.

"I want to forget. But somehow, I can't. What do you call this kind of feeling? My chest is pounding, Yet somehow it seems familiar. What do you call this kind of feeling?"

This song had been the first thing he had sang to Link when they reunited. When he had come out of some memory that traumatized him to tears. He still didn't know what it was, never felt the need to ask. If he wanted to speak about it, he would, he knew that much. Simply talking to his twin hadn't gotten to him, so instead he started to sing softly, holding the other close and gently rocking them back and forth until the sobs had quelled to hiccups. It became his go to song to soothe him whenever a memory upset him beyond talking.

There were other songs he sang of course, but Link had bashfully told him that this one was his favorite. 'It's warm and familiar.'

"'Ah, that reminds me, there's one last thing. Would you like us to add in tears as well? You'd have no problems without them, But some people find them annoying, so they opt out. What would you like? What would you like?' In the end, I asked him to add them in. So that, rather than just strong, I could become kind, become kind. So I could understand what it means to hold something dear."

Link wasn't the only one who could be comforted by this song. On nights where Rinku felt the weight of their 'destiny', during times he felt alone despite his twin by his side, despite the new group of eight they had joined, despite finding love, when everything felt crushing around him, so much he nearly couldn't breathe. He would hum this song to himself until he was calm enough to sing. He was always quiet enough to not disturb anyone if he couldn't leave, otherwise he'd find a secluded area nearby and sing with nothing but the moon and stars to hear him. " 'Oh, while we're at it, the tears will need a flavor. So I'd just like you to choose which one you'd prefer. We have sour, salty, spicy, sweet. You can choose whichever you like. Which will you have? Which will you have?' "

Rinku could feel his eyes burn, his vision blurring as he reached up to rub at them. He could feel tears rolling down his face, his voice steady despite them. He felt a gentle hand on his free one and squeezed lightly in reassurance. He was okay, he was fine, he just forgot how much emotion was in this song. He wiped the tears away even as fresh ones fell. His eyes squeezed shut as a grin, wide, genuine and full of so many emotions even he didn't know them all formed. His volume raised just slightly, but held so much passion it warmed the hearts of all who were listening. "Everything was put together just as requested, So wipe those tears away and let me see your face. Come on, show it to me with pride!"

His voice softened again as he lowered his head, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he wouldn't be surprised if it was audible to anyone else. The grin softened into a gentle smile as his shoulders slowly relaxed, practically sighing out the final words.

"Thank you so much for everything. Sorry to have caused you so much trouble. But could I just ask one last thing? 'Have we met somewhere before?' "

A small jolt ran through him as he heard clapping, eyes shooting up to see that everyone had their attention on him. He squeaked and hurriedly pulled up his hood with his free hand, realizing his other hand was being held by a gently smiling Four. A soft laugh escaped the smith as he reached to cup his flushed cheek, brushing away what tearstains remained.

"You should sing more often."

Four couldn't help laughing quietly as Rinku turned redder before hiding against the other hero as the rest of their group echoed agreement in varying ways.

[pay-with-your-kinks]

Bratty Kitty

Pairing: Badboy!Minho x Reader

Summary: Minho, the notorious ‘bad boy’ at your university. To be quite frank, you found him pathetic- the boy was nothing but a rich, undisciplined kid who’d never been punished for being a brat- something you so dearly wanted to change.

College AU, Badboy AU, Enemies to Lovers AU

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: smut, sub!Minho, dom!reader, pegging, spanking, BDSM, slight pet-play, brat-taming

----

You groaned, waking up to the annoying, loud tune playing from your phone. Murmuring incoherent words and rolling to the side of your bed, you grabbed your phone and hit the ‘snooze’ button, immediately dropping it back onto your bedside table and stuffing your face back into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Why the fuck did I sign up for morning classes,” You grumbled into your pillow, stifling a yawn

After two or so minutes of lying restlessly in bed, you realised you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep with the sun beginning to rise, and, once again, you rolled over to the open side of your bed, shivering as you threw off the warm covers and stood up. You paused, breathing in and processing your surroundings before deciding you should probably get ready for the day.

“You’re up early,” your roommate commented from behind her bowl of cereal when she saw you come out of your room

“Morning classes,” You scrunched up your nose, and she nodded in understanding

“Breakfast?” She asked, pushing the box of cereal and carton of milk towards you

“Nah, no time,” You replied, grabbing your coat and walking out the door

The sun had risen far more quickly than your liking, and it blared in your eyes the second you stepped out the door. You squinted, blinking a couple of times and putting your hand against your forehead to shade your eyes.

“Oi, Y/N!” An- unfortunately- familiar voice called from behind you, and you turned around with your brow raised, being met with none other than Lee Minho

“The fuck do you want?” You sneered as he came closer to you “I have a class to get to,”

“Aw, don’t be so mean, baby girl,” He smiled condescendingly and leaned forward, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket

“Call me baby girl again and you’ll regret it,” You threatened, and, before Minho could even open his mouth to retaliate, you turned on your heel and started heading towards your class

“Coward,” He called after you, and your eye almost twitched at the smile you could hear in his voice

The class, as expected, went by far too slowly for your liking, but you were satisfied with the notes you’d taken, and since you’d just woken up, you weren’t as drowsy as you would’ve been had it been in the afternoon, and you left the building in a surprisingly happy mood; that is, until you saw Minho again.

You groaned loud enough for the boy to hear you even while he was a couple feet away.

“Class not go well?” He asked, smirking

“Stop talking to me,” You deadpanned

“You never even try to make conversation with me baby girl- what if I have something important to say?”

“Oh, I don’t care,” You shrugged, beginning to walk away, sighing internally when he followed you

“Look what I bought today,” He appeared beside you, reminding you somewhat of the Cheshire cat

Rolling your eyes, you looked over to Minho, and saw that, dangling from between his fingers was a black collar with a nametag spelling out ‘kitten’. You made an appreciative hum before looking at the boy’s neck.

“You’d look good in it,” You said nonchalantly, but Minho furrowed his brows

“What?” He exclaimed, going in front and walking along with you backward “No- I bought this for you,”

You stopped walking, pausing for a second and blinking once before bursting out laughing, leaving Minho frozen in confusion.

“You- you think I’m a sub?!” You said once you’d finally stopped laughing enough to talk “No, kitten, I’m not,”

Minho seemed to come back to life when you called him ‘kitten’, and for some reason, the name sent heat to his ears and cheeks, something that you didn’t fail to notice.

“Eh? You like being called kitten, kitten?”

“No!! Shutup!” He said, looking around to see if anyone was in hearing range, and he stuffed the collar back into his pocket “I’m not a sub,”

“I find that hard to believe, baby boy,” you smirked, relishing in Minho’s wide and flustered eyes

“Don’t call me that,” He took a threatening step towards you

“Oh? It looks like the bratty kitty is finally getting a taste of his own medicine,” You mused, and Minho gulped

There was a moment of you two staring into each other’s eyes, Minho staring into your amused ones and you staring into Minho’s aggravated.

“Your pupils are dilated,” You whispered, placing your hand on his chest sensually before harshly pushing him out of the way and continuing to walk

This time, Minho didn’t follow you, only watched in annoyance as you walked off, pissed at not only you but himself for getting so goddamn turned on at your words. He always knew that you weren’t a full out sub, but somehow hearing you say it out loud, and then you basically degrading him managed to actually fluster him, and Minho’s mind immediately went to thoughts that he found simultaneously disgusting and arousing.

----

You opened the door to your apartment, an aggravated sigh leaving your lips as you thought back to your encounter with Minho. You weren’t going to lie to yourself- Minho was damn attractive, but he was also one of the brattiest, most annoying people you’d ever encountered. Judging from the clothes he wore, along with the entitled attitude he carried around with him at all times, you guessed that he was just a spoiled rich kid who got away with anything.

“He’s so fucking annoying,” You muttered to yourself

“Talking to yourself?” Your roommate’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you whipped your head around “Lemme guess- Minho again?”

“He’s just so- god sometimes I just wanna strangle him and make him take back everything that’s come out of his pampered mouth,”

“Kinky,” Your roommate mused, and you glared at her

“It’s not kinky he’s just an annoying little shit,”

“That you would absolutely love to have underneath you while you punish him and-”

“I get it!” You groaned loudly, and your roommate burst out laughing “stop sticking your nose in my sex life,”

“It’s hard to ignore when I hear the whimpering and begging of everyone you bring home- you’d think you were torturing them in there,”

You sighed and plopped yourself on the couch.

“Wow you really do like him,” she grinned

“I hate him,” You leaned your head back your gaze up towards the ceiling “I hate him so much that I want to just-”

You stopped talking and started making angry strangling motions with your hands, causing your roommate to chuckle.

“Well I’ve pried enough today- gotta get to a class, then I’m going out. Seeya later,” she waved as she went to the door and left, and you gave a half-hearted, distracted wave in return

----

Minho scrunched his nose and ran his fingers through his hair before kicking a piece of rubbish in front of him.

“Someone looks frustrated,” an amused voice came from his side, and Minho turned around to be met with Chan “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Minho turned his head away, speaking curtly

“Oohoh, is it Y/N?” Chan raised his eyebrow and leaned forward, looking at Minho with a mischievous grin

“No!” Minho sputtered a little too quickly “How do you know Y/N?!”

“Her and I are friends,” Chan shrugged

“You’re friends with Y/N?” Minho furrowed his brows “How come I’ve never heard of this? And how the hell did you guess it was her?!”

“I’ve told you multiple times but it's never gotten through your thick skull,” Chan laughed, and lifted his fingers, flicking Minho in the forehead, to which the boy winced in return “And I guessed it was her because I know how much you pine after her,”

“It’s not pining,” Minho growled

Chan looked at him as if to say ‘are you sure about that?’

“It’s not!” Minho persisted “I just think she has a certain...allure about her that’s very...”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Chan leaned in and stage whispered in Minho’s ear “it’s cause she has dom energy and you’re a sub,”

“I’m not a sub!” Minho pushed Chan away, shooting a glare at the boy, and Chan laughed

“Calm down; you’re just proving me right,” Chan continued, and Minho’s ears grew red “You know, if you were willing to submit to her I’d bet she’d be willing to fuck you-”

“What, you speak from personal experience I suppose?” Minho shot

“You’ll never know,” Chan winked at Minho, and the Minho’s eyes widened

“What?!” He wacked Chan on the shoulder

“I’m kidding!” Chan continued laughing, and Minho scrunched his nose “But you might wanna think about what I said,”

“No way am I gonna do that,”

“Doubtful,” Chan shrugged “nice collar, by the way,”

Minho followed his friend’s gaze down to his pocket, which had the tip of a collar obviously meant for BDSM dangling from it. Surprised and flustered, Minho stuffed the collar deeper into his pocket and glared at Chan, who did nothing but continue laughing.

----

The air all around you was stuffy and claustrophobic, a wretched smell of cheap alcohol filling your nose, sweaty people all around you drunkenly dancing and singing horribly to whatever god forsaken song was blasting throughout the area. Somehow your roommate had managed to drag you off to a club late at night, claiming that she and all her friends were having a ‘girl’s night’, and that you should come to get your mind off of Minho. At first you thought it was a good idea- she was right, you did want a distraction from the boy- but once you’d actually arrived you began to deeply regret your choice.

“Group of hotties at four o’ clock,” You heard a shout from one of your roommate’s friends- whose name had slipped your mind

Absent-mindedly following the heads of everyone else in your small group, you looked over to a group of maybe nine boys, all around your age. You had no idea how anyone could see if they were ‘hot’- the flashing lights and overall dark and crowded environment made it impossible to discern one feature from the next. Before you could protest or escape, you were being pulled towards the other group.

“Hey there,” A confident, almost snide voice came from your side, and you rolled your eyes, turning to the boy who’d evidently come from the group you’d just been forced to approach

“Hey,” You replied in a bored voice

“You seem familiar,” it came again, and you felt hands rest on your hips, causing your eyes to twitch

“Yeah, so do you,” You kept your tone indifferent, but made no move to pull away

You weren’t lying- you could’ve sworn you’d heard the voice before, and the boy had an overall sense of familiarity to him. You told yourself you were just imagining it- with all the noise going on in the background, your mind could be making anything up.

“Why so cold?” He pulled your closer to him, and you cocked your head

“I don’t like cocky brats,” You deadpanned, and the boy seemed to pause

“You really do seem familiar,” he muttered, and you breathed out a humourless laugh

You were about to pull away, but you remembered why you agreed to come out at all tonight. You needed a distraction from a particular someone, and you’d take just about anyone for it.

Smirking and wrapping your arms around the stranger in return you moved closer to him, your hand lowering to squeeze his ass shortly, and you swear you heard a gasp from him, though it was hard to tell what was what.

“Hey-” he started, but was interrupted when you began to grind against him, and his breath hitched

“How about we get out of here, kitten?” You asked, sweetness dripping from your voice, and you saw that the whites of the boys’ eyes had widened

“Wait- Y/N?!” he yelled, pushing you off of him

You blinked, furrowing your brows before finally looking properly at the boy. A bright light flashed across the entire club for a split second, revealing a flustered Minho. Your lips parted slightly, the clear view of the boy gone as quickly as it had come- but it left the knowledge that you’d just made a move on the exact person you were trying to avoid.

“Oh come on!” You shouted, tossing your hands up “This is the exact opposite reason why I came out tonight! I’m leaving,”

Minho watched in stunned silence as you pushed your way through the crowd, jumping slightly as he felt someone elbow him, and he turned around to be met with Hyunjin.

“Isn’t that the girl you’ve been pining after?” He asked, nodding towards you

“I’m not pining!” Minho complained, almost stamping his foot, but deciding that that would only make him seem even more childish “Did Chan tell you that?!”

“No, I can just tell,” Hyunjin shrugged, and Minho glared “Why not go after her?”

Minho thought for a while before the condescending smile that he so often wore found itself back on his face, and without saying a goodbye to his friend, he started after you.

You silently continued making your way to the exit of the club, not looking back, but you were sure that Minho was following you. The moment you’d gotten out of the building into the crisp night air, your prediction was proven right, and Minho came out right after you, the stupid smile that you wanted to wipe off of him so much glued to his face.

“Fuck off, Minho,” You waved a dismissive hand at him, but he ignored your words and strode up to you, putting his arm around your shoulder

“Why not just talk a bit with me, baby?” He cooed, and you rolled your eyes

“Why not just go be a good kitty and-” You paused, cutting yourself off as a metallic glint caught your eye from Minho’s pocket “Is that the same collar as before?”

Minho looked down and saw the collar he’d shown you earlier that day dangling from his pocket- yet again. Cursing, he stuffed it back in, and you chuckled.

“You’d think you wanted to wear it- keeping it with you for so long,” You smirked, and his ears grew red

“I told you that I’m not a sub!” He hissed, and you laughed

“But you’d look so pretty in it,” You continued, speaking in a voice that suggested you were talking to a pet, and, regretfully, Minho gulped

“Baby girl,” Minho said in the most confident and steady voice he could muster “I-“

“You may as well stop calling me that, baby boy,” You interrupted him, and, even to his own surprise, he stopped talking “I wonder…what’s the worst punishment you’ve ever gotten?”

“The worst punishment?” Minho repeated in confusion, looking at you quickly before considering the question “I- I dunno,”

“Hah. So the spoiled brat really is just a pampered rich kid,”

“I’m not a brat,” Minho scowled and you laughed, only succeeding in making the boy even madder

Slowly, you stopped walking and turned to Minho. He followed suit, turning to you as well, regarding you with anger as well as caution. Wordlessly, you reached down and grabbed the collar from him pocket, holding it up as if to see how it would look on Minho.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He slapped your hand down once he’d processed what was happening, and you smiled softly

“If only you’d wear this,” You tutted “You’d look so good in it baby,”

Once again, just as you expected, Minho froze up, and although the lighting on the street was dim, you could tell how red his face was. You brought your hands up to his neck and slowly wrapped the collar around it, doing it up just barely too tight. Without speaking, Minho brought his hands up and gently touched it, his eyes staring into yours.

“You can be good,” you marvelled, which seemed to snap Minho out of his trance

He hastily looked around the street, seeming relieved when he saw that no one was in sight, and the gripped the collar around his neck more harshly.

“Take it off,” He ordered, growling

“You can take it off yourself just fine,” You smiled, and Minho faltered “Or is it that you don’t actually want it to be off?”

Minho didn’t reply, only glared as you smirked.

“Come on,” You said, and he looked at you questioningly “You’re coming to my place,”

“Wh- like hell I am!” he yelled, and you heard a bird squawk in return

“Guess I should just leave you like this, then,” You smiled, glancing down to the bulge in Minho’s pants, then back at the red-faced boy

“Wait I-…”

He let his words trail off, and then, instead of saying anything more, he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt softly, his head hung low. Your lips parted slightly and your heartbeat quickened- who knew he could be so goddamn cute.

The trip back to your place was uneventful except for when you got out the pair of flats you’d brought with you, put them on, and made Minho hold your heels for the rest of the walk back.

Finally, the pair of you had made it back to your apartment. You let Minho step inside before shutting the door behind him and abruptly pushing him back and shoving him onto the couch, causing him to yelp before looking back up to you with his completely red ears and cheeks.

“You’re being more obedient than I thought you would,” You mused, going to straddle the boy, putting your finger under his chin and making him look up at you

Minho furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, quickly turning his head so your fingers slipped from his chin. You laughed before harshly grabbing his chin, gripping it tightly and, once again, making him face you.

“You may as well stop trying to pretend like you’re not going to submit to me tonight,” You whispered

“I’m not going to,” he squinted at you, scrunching up his nose when you laughed again

“You’re wearing a collar, little kitty,” you mused, bringing your hand up to tug on the collar wrapped around his neck “You’re basically mine already,”

He opened his mouth the shoot back, but you stuck you thumb in and pressed it down on his tongue. Minho shook his head, trying to shake away your hold on him, but you forced him to keep still. He continued resisting, only stopping when you leaned forward, took your hand away and pressed your lips onto his. He gulped, pausing before kissing you back in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Finally something that shuts you up,” You muttered against him before standing up “Why don’t you take off your clothes for me, kitty?”

His eyes widened at the sudden request before he turned away once again

“You’ll have to tear my clothes off bare-hand before I-”

“Oh, is that what you want?” You smiled, and the red on Minho’s cheeks deepened

Scowling he leaned forward and pulled off his shirt, throwing it aggressively at you, and you caught it, chuckling as you dropped it onto the ground. Minho began to unbuckle his belt, but quickly found himself getting nervous. He began going slower, his moves getting more hesitant and his face hotter, feeling your watchful gaze as he undid his pants and started pulling them down. He stopped, looking up to you with uncertain eyes.

“What’s wrong, kitty?” You walked up to him again and leaned down, grabbing the top of his pants “Getting nervous?”

“N-no!” He said before finally pulling his pants down and kicking them off his legs. You breathed out a laugh and began rubbing his completely hard cock through his underwear, causing him to moan

You began to straddle him once again, watching as his pre-cum made the thin layer of fabric practically see-through.

“You wanted me to fuck you, baby?” You whispered

“Please…”

“Say ‘please, mommy’,” You smiled, and Minho’s eyes widened, pausing in sudden shock before speaking again

“You’re delusional!”

“You’re the one who’s delusional if you think being a brat will get you any closer to cumming, kitty,” You said, beginning to get off of him, but Minho grabbed your arms, pulling you back down onto him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing your bodies so close together that he could grind his dick on you, and that’s what he did

“Please mommy,” He whimpered, moaning quietly as he began grinding faster

You bit your lip, feeling yourself get wetter at his little moans. Composing yourself, you spoke again.

“Wasn’t so hard, right baby?” You asked, wiggling out of his grip and taking off your shirt quickly and then, more teasingly, undoing your bra and tossing it aside

Minho’s breathing seemed to stop when he looked at you properly, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to your breasts. You got off of the boy, and this time, he let you.

Grabbing his hand, you began leading him down a hall to your bedroom, and he wordlessly followed. You shut your bedroom door behind the pair of you and before doing anything else, you opened your closet and pulled out a strap-on and lube (which you somehow managed to not let Minho see as you tossed it aside) and a cat head-band. Minho hardly protested when you walked back up to him and placed the headband on his head, and he completely stopped resisting when you whispered how pretty he looked.

Slowly, you brought him next to your bed and got down on your knees, pulling down his underwear. Minho’s breath hitched as his cock sprung out and slapped against his abdomen.

“Mommy- ah-” he moaned as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly began pumping, spreading his pre-cum around and gradually beginning to get faster as it became easier to move up and down

“You ever been fucked, kitty?” You asked, licking the tip of his dick

“Wh- I’m not a virgin!”

“I meant…” you let your words trail off before slithering your hand behind him and brushing your finger over his hole

“Fu-” Minho moaned, and you felt his cock twitch “I- no…”

“Do you want to?”

“I…” He looked down at you, and you could tell he almost let a ‘yes’ slip past his lips before he seemed to jolt back “no! Like I’d ever let you-”

“Stop being such a brat,” you scolded harshly, taking your hands off him, causing Minho to whine at the sudden loss of contact “Tell me what you want or you won’t be getting it. It’s simple,”

The boy huffed cutely, blowing the hair that had covered his face out of the way. You almost smiled before you sat on the bed- almost.

“Come here,” You ordered, and Minho squinted his eyes at you, scooting towards your carefully

“What are you gonna do?”

“Discipline,” You answered simply, and Minho’s breath hitched “Come on kitty, be a good boy won’t you?”

It was almost an automatic response when Minho walked to you, letting your grab him and drape him over your lap. He whined as his cock met the fabric covering your legs, and subtly, the boy began grinding on you.

“Comfortable?” You asked sweetly, and Minho nodded

You sneered before spanking him harshly, causing him to jolt forward and moan.

“Fuck- again,” He whined, wiggling his ass in front of you

You cocked your head, surprised at his reaction, and somewhat annoyed at how much he seemed to be enjoying himself. Aiming a bit lower this time, you brought your hand back down and spanked him on the upper thigh.

“Mmm mommy that hurt- fuck-!” Minho started to speak, but cut himself off with a moan when you landed another harsh spank on his ass

You continued spanking him until his ass was red and hot, and the wetness that was Minho’s pre-cum on your clothes rubbing onto your thigh started to get border-line uncomfortable. You placed your hand softly on him again and began to knead Minho’s cheeks, smiling at the whimpers you got out of him.

“Does it feel good, kitty?” You murmured, purposely brushing a finger over his hole, and he subconsciously pushed his ass backward onto it

“Yes…” He whimpered, shaking as you continued running a single finger over the same spot

“Do you want mommy to fuck you?”

“Yes…please…” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut

“Say it louder for me, baby boy,” you teased

“Please fuck me mommy!” He said loudly “Wanna have my tight hole stretched by you, mommy,”

Your lips parted in shock before you chuckled

“Someone knows how to beg,” You mused, pushing Minho off of you and onto the bed

“Doms know what doms want to hear,” he stated, almost matter-of-factly

“It’d do you a favour to stop calling yourself a dom,” You put your fingers under his chin before leaning forward and kissing him sweetly “You’re mommy’s pretty little kitty, aren’t you?”

“Hah…yes…” He looked up to you, seeming to get drunk off the unexpected love in the kiss

You breathed out a laugh before getting off the bed and slowly taking off your pants and underwear. Minho watched intently, leaning forward and licking his lips at the sight. You smiled before going to where you’d put the strap-on and lube and picked them up, brandishing them to Minho, who didn’t seem to care where they came from- only where they were going.

“Get on all fours like a good kitty,” you cooed, and Minho immediately complied, unable to stop his hairs from standing on end from the anticipation

There was a moments pause, and Minho fought the urge to look back at you, but just as his resolve was up and he was about to look back, he felt a cold, lubed finger against his hole, and he whined, pushing his ass backwards against you yet again. You slowly shook your head before climbing on the bed behind him, spreading the lube around his hole before sticking your digit in, and, surprisingly, it slid in fairly easily.

“You’re pretty stretched already aren’t you, baby? Are you sure your pretty hole hasn’t been fucked before?”

“…I finger myself,” He said, and you laughed at the pout you could hear in his voice

Without talking more, you took your finger out and squirted out the lube again onto your next finger, rubbing the two together to get them evenly coated before sticking it back into Minho’s hole. You began to quickly move your fingers in and out, and Minho began moaning, shamelessly letting out his noises.

“I want mommy’s cock,” He moaned, dropping his face into the covers and leaving his ass up in the air, wiggling it around a bit

You rolled your eyes and took out your fingers, putting on the strap on and lubing it up generously before, as slowly as you could, lining yourself up with the boy. You were about to push in, but Minho pushed back, inserting the tip in himself, and he let out a quiet but open-mouthed moan. You quickly reacted with a harsh slap to his ass, and he whined.

“Please hurry mommy…” He whimpered, and he said it so cutely that you couldn’t even think about rejecting him

You began pushing further in, feeling Minho tense around you, and you could tell his eyes were screwed shut with pain.

“Just relax for me, okay kitty?” you soothed, caressing the boy’s thighs

“Mmm,” He whimpered, but you couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure

Once you had the entire dildo in his hole, you stayed still for a while, softly caressing his thighs until he began to get fidgety, pushing back against you and shifting positions ever so slightly, as if hoping you wouldn’t notice.

Without warning, you began moving in and out, slowly at first, and Minho moaned, biting his lip and tightly scrunching the bed cover between his fingers. It wasn’t long before you could start going faster, and you did.

“M-mommy p-lease- please- ah!” He whimpered, eyes screwed shut

“What is it, kitty?”

“Please touch ah- fuck- p-please touch m-my cock-“

You leaned forward and wrapped your hand around the boy’s already slick dick,  immediately beginning to vigorously jerk him in time with your thrusts. Minho let his face fall into the covers, quickly feeling the spot where his mouth was getting wet from the drool coming out of his mouth. He tried to bite down on the covers, but it didn’t last for long, and he quickly let go, opening his mouth to let out his moans, dribbling out occasional words saying how good it felt.

“P-please- cum- please let me c-cum,” he wailed pushing his hips and moving around sporadically

“Go on kitty, cum for mommy,” you cooed

A couple seconds later, after feeling Minho’s cock twitch rapidly in your hand, he came, hot white ropes of cum spurting onto the sheets and across his torso. You pulled out and Minho fell down, whining at the feeling of the bed-sheets against his sensitive dick.

“You look so pretty, baby,” You whispered, taking off the strap and quickly re-joining Minho, running your hands through his hair

Minho turned around, lying on his back and looking up at you.

“What about you?” He asked sweetly, pouting

“That’s true,” You chuckled, suddenly being reminded of the wet heat between your legs “You don’t have to though,”

“No!” he scrambled to sit up and grabbed your hands “I wanna! Please let me make mommy cum…”

You smiled before letting go of his hands and cupping his face in your hands, bringing him forwards into a kiss before letting go, moving to lean your back up against the bed frame and spreading your legs, bringing your own hand down and stroking along your slit, making sure to show the boy the thick strings of pre-cum that showed each time you lifted your finger up. Minho gulped and looked to you, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.

“Come on, kitty,” You smiled, and Minho immediately went down, licking a long stripe against you, going to the top and licking your clit multiple times before attaching his lips to it

You moaned and laced your fingers in his hair, gripping tightly, but Minho barely seemed to notice. He brought his fingers forward and inserted two of them, beginning to rapidly move them in and out straight away.

“Mm- fuck kitty- ah- that’s a good boy,” You moaned, tugging at his hair and grinding against his face

“Mommy tastes so good,” He gulped breathlessly, keeping his lips against your pussy as he said it, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice

Minho continued eating you out, seeming to get more enthusiastic each time you praised him and pulled at his hair more harshly. It was only a couple minutes before you came, and Minho kept going, making sure to lick up all the juices before finally pulling away.

“Shit, kitty,” You breathed heavily, biting your lip as Minho moved level with you and captured your lips in a soft kiss, unintentionally letting you taste yourself

You wrapped your arms around the boy’s waist and brought him closer before smiling.

“Guess all that pretending you’re a dom bit you in the ass, huh?” You chuckled, grabbing Minho’s butt shortly, causing him to jolt, and then pout at you

“You’re mean…” He muttered

“Let’s go take a shower, yeah? You’re not too sore?” You whispered, and you felt the boy nod against you before shifting positions to get up

The night ended with a hot shower, a fresh change of bed-sheets, a couple surprisingly loving kisses, a bit of pillow talk and lots and lots of cuddling.

[hawkepockets]

musical fionn! headcanon under the cut

the surface is pretty alien to fionn, but he reads books & he’s not stupid so he knew to expect things like rain and grass and tall people.

what he really can’t understand is how noisy ppl are when they’re not afraid of darkspawn. puttering around makin noise for no reason, laughing and singing out loud, talkin when they have nothin to say, talkin bc they’re uncomfortable with not talkin?? he can’t wrap his head around it

he finds he does love music, even if his heart always races with the instinct to tell everyone to hush up before smth bad hears them

at music night in the herald’s rest one time, maryden hands him her lute to encourage him participating. he’s able to figure the instrument out pretty quick and is picking out simple tunes by instinct within a few minutes

after that, any time he gets his hand on an instrument he’ll try to play it and catch on fast—but then he gets carried away with the euphoria of being allowed to make noise just for fun, and just blasts out notes as loudly & chaotically as he can until the instrument’s owner takes it back

it’s not until he’s older, married to dorian and starting to go gray, that the deep roads are far enough behind him for him to settle down and learn to play an instrument properly — a custom violin dorian commissioned for him, that rests on his left shoulder instead of the right and has a bow attachment for his prosthetic. he practices a lot, becoming very skilled, and fills their home with music

having relied so long on fighting to survive, fionn really treasures the arts & crafts he’s learned, like sewing, leatherworking, fiddling, and enjoying a good book. they’re important to his masculinity & growth! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

[getthesamovarready]

My life, it's tangled in wishes

Owen x Michelle

For @911couplesretreat day 1:"you've never looked more beautiful" + hurt/comfort

@ana122892 I'm pretty sure you had this idea first. Either way, the first time we talked about it was WAY happier than this I'm so sorry.

This is heavier on the hurt tho, sorry.

TW: infertility

"Hey Cap, we got a drop-off." Judd knocks in her door. "Got a minute to check her out?" She would do anything to get away from this paperwork. "Yeah." She drops her pen immediately, trying not to look too enthusiastic. "Just the kid?" It usually is, most of the time they drop the baby and bolt before anyone sees them. But sometimes they wait to make sure it's okay. "Or did she stay?" 

"Just the kid." Judd shakes his head, sighing. They all prefer it when they know the mom is okay too. "She's only a few hours old though, would have been more comfortable if she had stayed a bit."

"You and me both." Because all sorts of things can happen to the girls that don't stay. "Hey!" She coos to the bundle in Marjan's arms. At least she's clean and dry. "How are we doing sweetie?" Marjan hands the baby over with a soft smile and the whole team steps back, somewhat disappointed, when she carries the kid to the ambulance. 

She seems alert. And her examination looks absolutely fine. "Wow, aren't you impressive huh?" She mumbles, wrapping the baby in her blanket again. "You know, we get this kind of thing a lot." She starts clearing off the gurney again. "They aren't all as impressive as you are." Most of the time, there's a problem. The kid is left outside when they're on a call, or left with no blanket, no basket. And sometimes their problems are bigger than that. So it's nice, to have a totally healthy baby. Even nicer when it happens in the middle of the night. 

Because social services take way longer in the middle of the night. "Okay honey." She lifts the baby, hopping out of the ambulance. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable, how about that?" 

It seems like everyone has decided that the possibility of sleep is way more exciting than cooing over a drop-off, so the lounge is totally empty. "Okay, here good? Here's good." She settles onto the sofa. "You've had quite a day, haven't you?" Being born, and being abandoned, definitely counts as 'a day'. "You're good though, you just need some company." She quite likes the idea of this particular company. She’s always in the mood for this kind of company.

“How are you doing?” She asks quietly. The baby just fists at her hair. She’s doing good; calm, quiet. “Good, I’m good too.” A little tired, she could definitely fall asleep right here if she doesn’t put some effort into keeping herself awake. “Hey, you want a song? Would that be nice? I’ve been told I’m very good, don’t worry.” She sighs softly, chuckling at the baby tugging on her hair. “Does that sound good?” Tug. “Okay, sure thing sweetie.” 

She’s half-whispering a little tune when there’s a voice in the kitchen. “You know, I’ve never heard you sing?” She fully had not intended for him to hear it, probably ever. She hadn’t sung in front of an adult in...years. “Lucky kid, to start her life out like that.” She wouldn’t call this kid's start in life lucky, but she will take the flattery anyway. “Just so you know,” she hears him sliding a coffee mug across the counter. “You have never looked more beautiful.” 

And there it is. Where the flattery starts to sting. “You better not be getting any ideas Captain.” She swallows thickly, trying to smile. She hasn’t really looked at him yet, but when he settles next to her, she has no choice. And he’s looking at her like that. And god she wishes he wouldn’t.

“We’ve been together two weeks, Michelle, we’re really not...there.” He nods at the baby in her arms. Yet. We’re not there yet. “She is cute though.” He takes a finger, stroking it along the baby’s cheek. 

“Yeah.” She mumbles. “Yeah she is.” She’s really trying not to be weird about this. Like he said, they’ve been together two weeks. Not quite the time to be talking about this. And honestly, it probably isn’t all that relevant anyway. She may not be totally past the stage where it wouldn’t be strange to be having kids, but he definitely is. Because it is very uncommon to have kids younger than your grandkids, and by the way TK and Carlos are going, it won’t be long until he does. 

The baby starts to fuss, and she bounces her leg lightly, shushing her.  “I’m sorry sweetie.” She whispers before she starts humming again. 

“Don’t mind me.” Owen grins. “I’m just gonna sit here, watch you. You can sing words...if you want to.” He obviously wants her to, but she can’t bring herself to even try it in front of him. 

“I think I’ll pass.” She chuckles, shaking her head. So she just keeps humming, both of them watching as the baby drifts off to sleep. And she lets her head drop into Owen’s shoulder when she is able to stop humming. She would quite like to sleep here, like this, with Owen’s nose in her hair, and the baby snuggled on her chest. 

“Stay like that, I am going to start having ideas.” Owen chuckles, and she bolts upwards. She swears softly, immediately trying to soothe the now awake child. “Sorry.” He mumbles awkwardly, pulling away from her. He’s just giving her space to move, she knows that, but it still makes her chest lurch even further than it already had. 

“It’s fine.” she assures him, standing to walk the child around the room. “I’m sorry sweet pea, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She whispers softly. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

When the child eventually stops crying, Owen holds out a hand to lead her back to the couch, but she shakes her head. “You can’t have ideas.” She chokes out. She doesn’t want to make a big deal about it, so she just keeps walking around the room. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...spook you.” He smiles at her. “Like I said, two weeks. More than a little early to be getting...ideas.” He’s laughing a little, and  he really has no clue what she means.

“No.” She starts, a little too loudly. “No, I mean ever.” She starts to smile at the baby, and it’s so weird to be having this conversation while speaking to an infant. “I’m sorry. You can’t have those ideas...ever.” She’s still directing her words softly to the baby. And really, she should look at Owen, but she’s still trying to fix the upset she caused, and honestly, part of her doesn’t want to.

“Like...ever?” He asks, and she really thought that had been clear. “You don’t…” He sounds shocked, obviously assuming she doesn’t want to.

“It isn’t that I don’t Owen.” Okay, the baby voice makes this sound really damn weird, and she kinda feels like she’s mocking him. Which she really, really, doesn’t want to. “It’s that I can’t.” The baby has cheered up considerably, playing with her hair again. “No I can’t!” She grins down at her. 

“Oh…” She glances at him quickly, and he is white as a sheet. “Um...are you...okay? With that? I mean you…” I mean you obviously like kids.

"Yeah…" She shrugs. Because most of the time she really is fine with it. It probably would never have happened anyway. But then, she can't help but wonder. "I'm…" She is about to say that she's fine with it, but then she realises that isn't the question she's been answering. "I mean, it's...I… I didn't,  until I couldn't, and then I did." It's a pretty common response apparently. "Which is so like me." She laughs, because of course that would happen. Of course she would start to drive herself crazy over something she hadn't ever thought about until it couldn't happen. 

"Can I ask what happened?" Of course he can, it's not like it isn't important.

"I got stabbed by a junkie." Which honestly happens to her a lot. More than it probably should. "It was bad." That's really all she wants to say about it. But he deserves a little more. "There was a lot of bleeding, it was in a...bad area." 

"I'm sorry." He's seen the scar. He'd noticed it at the beginning. And she had laughed when she said how it happened. Because she had three more scars from getting stabbed by patients. She hadn't treated that one differently at all. "So you're...really okay?"

"No." She admits breezily. Because even though right now it feels like this impossibility is crushing her, this time next week she probably won't be thinking about it at all. "But yeah. It's not like it would have happened anyway." If she had been able to have children, she probably wouldn't have considered it anyway. "I'm 43 years old Owen," she rolls her eyes. "I wasn't going to do it alone." And she hasn't had a relationship with anyone in the last ten years that she would consider having children with for even a second. Apart from maybe Owen. But they have been together for only a few weeks.

Way to go crazy Michelle. 

"You would have been great at it." She's always liked to think so, however incorrect it probably is. 

"Thanks." She shrugs, not looking at him. Maybe she would have been, but it doesn't really matter either way. 

She thinks maybe it's safe to sit down again without bothering the baby, so she settles herself slowly beside him. When he slips an arm around her, pulling her in to kiss her softly on the head, she has to hold back a shudder. "Hey." He whispers, his hand coming up to wipe a tear from her cheek. "You're gonna be okay." How, he isn't exactly sure. But Michelle managing to be okay is the only thing he's really certain of. "You're gonna be great." Even if it is as step-grandmother, or cool aunt, to all the kids Carlos is currently convincing TK they should have. 

"I didn't mean with a baby." He tells her after a while, when she is muzzled into the crook of his shoulder. "When I said you looked beautiful. It wasn't about the baby."

"So what was it about?" She scoffs, shuffling uncomfortably. 

"Your smile." He mumbles. "You looked happy, and comfortable. And you were singing, which you never do. You were relaxed. That's what I meant." Because he would like to look at her like that forever. All he wants is for her to smile.

She doesn't relax nearly enough,  and she really should.