#got spared by wind and rain

[nefja]

They just couldn't decide on where to look

[hopesangelsprite]

Finders Keepers

Synopsis: Illumi's been tasked to take out a rival family, leaving no survivors, and that's exactly what he does... with the exception of you.

Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, Unprotected p in v, Overstim, Dacryphilia, Light choking, Creampie (this is Illumi what'd you expect-), analifyousquint, fingering, mentions of bl00d

MINORS/AGELESS ACC DNI

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a telltale sign of the impending storm on the horizon. The wind was chilled and heavy with the smell of earth and smoke as Illumi watched. Below him was a compound, an estate of sorts, under the protection of a dozen armed guards. Past its walls he could see maids and servants busy with daily tasks, too caught up in the hustle and bustle of life to sense neither him nor the storm coming.

Though he couldn't see them, he knew that deeper inside the compound were his targets. It wasn't often his family attacked other families, getting by with sheer intimidation and wealth. Still, when rival families got out of line... they had to be dealt with accordingly. Thunder rumbled once more, this time closer, and Illumi stood from his perch on a high oak branch. This wouldn't take nearly as long as he thought it would.

Dealing with the first wave of guards was less than anticlimactic, each falling quicker than the last. The second wave was able to get a few shots off before they too succumbed to his needles. Illumi placed a hand on the main gate and pushed sending the heavy steel doors flying off their hinges. The screams and squelches of people being crushed met his ears as he made quick work of the servants outside, as well.

The stench of blood, death, and rain was thick in the air as he entered the estate's front doors. Illumi made his way through its walls, killing everyone he found as he traversed floor after floor. Finally, he reached the master bedroom, kicking past its weakly barricaded door, and stared into the terror-filled eyes of the last four living people in the house. "Consider me your reckoning.", he mused as he stepped into the room and began picking them off until no one was left.

He looked around at the carnage around him and sighed. The rain would be coming soon, and he wanted to be home by then. He turned to leave the room but stilled as sound met his ears. Illumi turned and scanned the room's interior, sure that no one he'd confronted had survived the massacre. Illumi spotted the cracked-open wardrobe almost immediately and rolled his eyes. He'd missed one.

He took several steps toward the wardrobe before it burst open, your teary-eyed figure pushing past him toward the open door. Illumi reached and grasped a handful of your hair before taking in your features. You were small, not much younger than him. Though you bore a striking resemblance to the older man and woman he'd just killed, his intel hadn't alluded to either of them having children.

Upon further inspection, he found you healthy-looking; a tad on the heavier side with plush thighs, your soft breasts heaving with every sob that shook your frame. You were quite attractive aside from how bloodshot your eyes were becoming as you begged him to spare you. It didn't sound like a bad idea the more Illumi looked you over. So, he slung you over his shoulder, advising you to keep your eyes shut as he stepped onto the bedroom's balcony.

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

You trembled as you crossed the threshold of the Zoldyck estate in Illumi's arms, eyes screwed shut in fear as he took you deeper into the mansion. You didn't bother trying to remember how many turns you were taking; it was becoming increasingly clear that you wouldn't be leaving alive. You only allowed your eyes to flutter open as the two of you entered a room, the door locking behind you.

Illumi sat you on the edge of a large bed, uncharacteristically gentle considering how brutally he'd ended the lives of those you loved minutes prior. "You've two choices: accept me voluntarily or involuntarily.", he offered as he let his blood-soaked top drop to the floor near the edge of the bed, "You'll find I'm much more agreeable should you choose the former.".

His belt and trousers dropped to the floor leaving him only in his underwear. Your face grew hot at the sight, your hands trembling at the weight of his words. Fighting would wax futile; you knew that well enough. Cold fingertips met your cheek and tilted your face toward his. A few more tears slipped from your eyes as you weakly clasped his wrist. "Please... don't d-do this.", you pleaded once more before Illumi leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle.", he hummed into your skin as leaned in more, caging you underneath him. His lips felt icy as they trailed across the expanse of your skin, stopping at your lips. You whimpered and Illumi swallowed the sound. You reciprocated his movements sloppily, unfamiliar with the motions. The kiss broke, a trail of saliva connecting your lips which he broke with a swipe of his thumb. "How cute.", he breathed into your skin as he began marking a fiery trail down your throat.

As he traveled lower, you clenched your teeth in hopes of silencing the tiny moans building in your throat. Illumi took a break from his attack on your breasts to look over your dress. "There's no use in trying to keep quiet, you'll only tire yourself out.", he mused as he tugged harshly on the fabric causing it to rip. Your bottom lip trembled at the sight of what was left of your favorite sundress fall to the floor, and Illumi noticed. "My apologies, little dove. I'll have you a boutiques worth of dresses here in the morning if you're good for me.", he explained as he rid you of your undergarments leaving you bare.

Your eyes flickered up to his face as he placed butterfly kisses down the expanse of your stomach, eyes dark with lust as they met yours. So, this was your life now. "P-promise?", you asked as your heart began to settle. Illumi rose and placed both hands on your thighs, pulling you until your bare core was flushed with his clothed member. He hummed as he leaned down, bracing himself on one forearm and slipping the other between the two of you to slide between your moistening folds. "I promise.", he assured you as two of his fingers scissored open your entrance, his thumb working over your bud with expert skill.

A broken whimper left you as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure, as you let yourself succumb to fate. Your body trembled as his ministrations quickened, a knot forming in the pit of your abdomen. Everything was so wrong, yet it felt so, so good.

Just as the knot within you came close to snapping, Illumi pulled his fingers from you. You whined in frustration as you watched him clean your slick from his fingers with his tongue before beginning to remove his underwear. You watched in awe and terror as his cock sprang free, tip flushed pink and dripping with his own arousal. He was just as pale there as the rest of his body, a bit longer than he was girthy. "That's n-not gonna fit...", you whispered into the air between you. For the first time since he'd taken you, he cracked a smile. "We'll make it fit, little dove.", he replied while easing you onto your stomach.

Illumi's lips met your shoulder, cold and soft, and traveled down your back causing you to shiver. He shifted a bit, resting his chin in the nook between your shoulder and neck. "This might sting a bit, for that I offer my apologies.", he warned as you felt his tip catch on your entrance. Your breath hitched as he rolled his hip forward, allowing the first few inches to slip inside you.

He was lying when he said it'd sting a bit. It hurt like hell. You yelped and pushed your face into one of the plush pillows beneath you to muffle the sound. Illumi cooed and whispered praises into your skin, voice laden with sympathy as he continued to fill you. He rolled his hips once more filling you up fully, his tip threatening to push past your cervix.

"Such a good girl taking all of me.", he purred as you lifted your teary eyes from the pillows, "Now, let me take the pain away.". With one hand, Illumi laced his fingers with yours while the other reached between you to resume abusing your clit. His pelvis retreated from the swell of your ass, all of him leaving your walls apart from his leaky head, before thrusting forward again slow and deep. The moan that left you would've made even the finest of whores blush.

His hips rolled on, the room filling with the obscene sound of your slick coating his cock and your little whimpers as the pain was swiftly washed away with mind-numbing pleasure. Illumi continued to praise you between quieter moans of his own only stopping to tug at the shell of your ear with his teeth.

The intimacy, the steady pace of his body colliding with yours; All of it was becoming too much for you to handle. Illumi shifted, his tip kissing your cervix too suddenly for your liking drawing a gasp of discomfort from your trembling lips. He hummed and abandoned your clit to steady himself before rising with you in tow. You yelped and scrambled to your elbows when you felt the pad of his thumb swipe over your ass, thrusts gaining in speed. "N-not there-", you tried to reason with him before your jaw slackened upon the foreign intrusion.

Your thighs shook, threatening to give out, as Illumi hooked his thumb into your spasming hole up to the first knuckle. Heat crept across your body at the feeling of the knot in the pit of your stomach snapping. "Coming already? Who knew my pretty girl was so perverted. ~", Illumi groaned. His words fell upon deaf ears, your mind blank and full simultaneously. You buried your face into the sheets beneath in a weak attempt to save face, orgasm taking you forcefully.

The walls of your cunt fluttered, painting his lower half with your arousal. Illumi hissed, thrusts growing sloppy, at the sight and grasped at the fat of your ass. "Look at that pretty little cunt of yours. Almost like she wants me to fill her up.", he practically mewled, "Isn't that right, little dove?". All you could do was cry out in response, thoughts occupied with the delicious drag and sting of his cock inside you. Illumi huffed at your lack of response, hand abandoning your ass cheek for the column of your neck and squeezed.

"I asked if you wanted me to paint your walls white, dove, now answer like the obedient little wife you're going to be.", he hissed into your ear. You nodded vehemently, head light from the lack of hair. "Yes, please cum in me! Please please please-", you babbled as another orgasm ignited your overstimulated core. A string of wild curses and strangled moans fell from Illumi's lips as his hips snapped forward once more, locking as hot ropes of cum filled your sputtering hole.

A few moments passed as both of you came down, your smaller body trembling, before Illumi relaxed and pulled both of you down to the mattress. You shifted and shuttered at the feeling of still being full while listening to his breathing. "I'll have a ring and paperwork ready for you by noon, so I suggest you get some rest.", he hummed whilst pulling the sheets over your bodies,

"Besides, I need you fully rested and ready to take me in the morning."

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hiya love !! so just a little headcannon that i have is reader curled into jason’s side when watching a movie on the couch, especially in the colder months and he just realised and teases her about it :D

(currently freezing my ass off next to my broken radiator :( )

A Warm Touch

I hope your radiator got fixed!! (Hopefully, this fluff is tooth-rotting enough to warm your heart this winter)  ~900 words

Jason Todd knows he runs hot. Be it summer or winter, rain or shine, he's practically a living furnace. It's just a fact, one that's never really affected him either way.

Sure, whoever joins him on whatever stakeout he's on may shift a little closer to his side and joke about him being their personal space heater once in a while, but it's not a life changing truth.

Jason Todd is warm to the touch, and that's just how it is. He's never spared it a second thought, never felt good or bad about it. That is until you come along, and now he's never been more grateful for it.

He didn't notice it at first, the way you unconsciously (or consciously) sought out his warmth on colder Gotham days. The days wind pounded at your windows, the days snow piled so high on the fire escape his entire boot would disappear into it, the days frost seemed to seep into every crack in your building. 

But he was certainly noticing it today. What was supposed to be a simple movie night has his head spinning, his face fighting back a grin as you cuddle into his side. The blanket thrown over your laps is soft and fuzzy, but it doesn't exactly keep out the chill that settles in your bones no matter how warm your apartment is. 

Jason knows he should offer to get you another blanket, but he's more delighted by the fact you would rather curl into him– hook your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder– than get up. He should keep quiet about his epiphany, the fact that you enjoy how he runs hot, but he's never been one to pass up the opportunity to tease you. 

"Cold," he asks, voice a whisper of a question and low enough that you have to tilt your head to hear him better.

"I'm okay," you answer, seemingly distracted from the movie by his nose brushing along your temple.

"You seem cold," he prompts, ghosting his lips over the top of your head. It takes all his effort to keep his voice from falling into a teasing tone, to tickle and poke at your sides until you admit that while you were cold, he's doing a wonderful job of fixing that. (He's digging for your praise, sue him)

You almost seem to pick up on what he's doing, your eyes finally leaving the screen to focus solely on him, which is exactly what he's been wanting. "I'm not cold," you say easily, but your fingers move to grab at his sleeve– like you're worried he's planning something. (He is, kind of, but nothing more than this)

"Well, if you're not cold, I could go sit over on the–" he starts, grin going sly and eyes filing with mischief.

"No," you cut him off, eyes narrowing at the thought of him leaving your side. "I was cold," you correct, "but now I'm not."

His grin goes wolfish, but he lifts his arm to sling it over your shoulder, letting you snuggle closer into his side, "And that's because," he drawls out, almost sing-songy. He fights back the laugh that wells in his throat when you roll your eyes, a tinge of embarrassment painting your face.

"And that's because of you. Thank you for having a body temperature that anyone else would akin to a fever, Jason," you finally huff out, holding back a smile of your own at his antics.

He rewards you relenting by littering kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, from your face and down your jaw and to your throat, he doesn't stop until you're both a mess of laughter and smiles. 

It's not until you're holding your stomach with one arm and tugging at his shirt with the other, that he pulls back to study your face, the way the light catches in your eyes, just how happy you look. (You study him too, the way the lines of his face soften, how one corner of his mouth tugs higher when he smiles than the other)

'Not too warm, though. Right?" he murmurs, the briefest hint of insecurity flashing in his eyes. It's a bigger question that he means to ask, even if it's worded as innocently as it is. 

"Not at all," you soothe, fingers brushing back his hair so you can return his kisses with one of your own. A slow, soft kiss that wipes every doubt from his mind as quickly as it appeared. 

"It's the perfect temperature," you breathe out once you've pulled away, fingers lingering against his cheek, and Jason has to wonder what he did to deserve this moment– to deserve you.

"Oh, Good– I mean– That's good," he stumbles out, and tries to ignore the heat that threatens to rise to his face when you kiss his jaw and turn back to the tv.

"Stay here a while and keep me warm," you ask, head nestling back against his shoulder. (Right where it belongs, if you ask Jason)

"Yeah, sure, of course. Happy to," he agrees, giving into the urge to kiss the crown of your head, "For as long as you need me." And he means that, when he tells you, for more than just sharing his warmth. No matter what it is, no matter how simple or grand, as long as you need him, Jason will stay by your side.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[sarastial]

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bus crush

ellie williams x reader

summary: your heavenly perfume catches ellie’s attention on the bus, and she can’t help but stare.

(university! ellie; implied femme reader)

a/n: i’ve been writing for years and this is my first published fic ever lol .. kinda nervy but i hope you enjoy it!

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Ellie Williams was drenched when she finally got on the bus that drove to and from the student housing complexes — drenched and shivering and exhausted. She had been on campus attending her back-to-back lectures all day (Tuesdays were her worst days) without so much as a thirty minute break between classes, and was beat by the time she got to the bus stop. It didn’t help that it was the peak of December, just before finals and winter break. That meant bone-rattling storms that almost shook the shitty old university buildings — which were definitely in need of some TLC, by the way — and Ellie’s overused umbrella getting fucked up with the rain and wind beating it down.

She closes said umbrella as she steps further into the bus, attempting to shake off as much water as she can from its tattered waterproof fabric before glancing up to scan for a seat.

Just my luck, Ellie thinks to herself with an internal sigh, finding every possible seat occupied by one of her equally drenched, shivering peers. She moves over to the side of the bus where there were already a couple of students standing and holding onto the cloth handles hanging from the roof of the vehicle. Ellie opts to squeeze the handrail instead, waiting for the bus to start moving. A few stragglers come in, and the bus finally departs from the station.

Someone moves to stand between Ellie and another student, cramping up the already tight space. Ellie’s about to scowl in the student’s direction when the scent of vanilla and cinnamon hits her nose.

Holy shit, she blinks, inhaling as deeply as she can without looking odd and/or slightly off-putting, Someone smells like a damn bakery.

She dares to spare a darting glance sideways at the person standing next to her … then a second, then a third. There was no doubt in Ellie’s mind that the girl who stood there, leaning into the condensation-riddled window of the bus and gazing down at the small, tattered paperback book in her hands with her old-school wired earbuds in, was the person who smelled so divine. She looked just like she smelled, nice and warm and pretty and yummy and —

Ellie inhales sharply, looking away and biting the inside of her cheek. Her hand comes up to tuck a loose, damp strand of her choppy, auburn hair behind her ear, gaze trained on the view outside through the foggy glass bus door that was right across from where she stood. The sight of the rain pouring down onto the dark, dampened streets of her little college town distracts her for a while. She waits for a few moments before stealing a longer glance at the girl and taking her in — from her long, perfectly manicured fingernails and mixture of dainty and chunky rings to the bootcut jeans she wore that somehow managed to hug her in all the right places.

Ellie feels a bit intimidated by how put-together the girl looks, by how different the two of them are appearance-wise. Her own nails are short and blunt from her nervous habit of chewing on them, and her clothes are baggy — wide legged jeans that are soaked at the bottom hems from walking through puddles all day and a zip-up hoodie with rolled up sleeves to show off her sick new tattoo. But Ellie really, really, really wanted to talk to the girl. She wanted to ask her about what she was reading, about what she was listening to, about what perfume she was wearing and about how the hell she managed to look so pretty after being out in a rainstorm.

She’s definitely straight, Ellie deflates slightly, pressing her teeth into her chapped bottom lip and furrowing her eyebrows, deep in thought.

Ellie doesn’t even realize that she’s still staring at the pretty, nice smelling girl until she’s met with a pair of eyes and a small, confused smile. She freezes up, enthralled by the new angle of the girl’s face.

She’s looking at you …

She’s looking at you! Look away, dumbass!

Ellie clears her throat and whips her head back to face the door of the bus in front of her, blinking fervently and internally cursing herself as she tries to play off her staring. It’s too late, for sure. She’s already made herself look like a creep, watching the girl while she minded her own business.

Damn it. Way to play it cool.. She squeezes the handrail a little tighter as the bus turns, trying her best not to sway in the girl’s direction as the vehicle lurches sideways. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself.

Ellie’s internally pouring over that slightest, faintest smile that the girl had given her when a voice breaks through her thoughts, soft and mellow.

“I like your tattoo.”

Ellie’s mind doesn’t even have the time to process the fact that it’s her, it’s the girl, and that she’s talking to Ellie and she’s complimenting Ellie and that Ellie should reply and say something and —

She turns her head a little too quickly, gaze flickering over to the girl at her side. Sure enough, she’s smiling again. She’s waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh,” Ellie spurts, tucking that damn strand that kept spilling back into her eyes back behind her ear, “Thanks. Just got it a few weeks ago.”

She takes in the girl’s silent nod of acknowledgment, heart pounding in her ear. They just look at each other for a moment. Then, the girl slowly turns back to her book, lowering her gaze and tentatively flipping a page. Her lashes fan out against her cheeks in a way that makes Ellie sure she’s some goddess in disguise sent down to earth to bait a poor mortal like herself.

“I like your smell,” Ellie blurts before her mind catches up, watching as the girl turns back towards her with a small, amused smile forming on her face. “I mean, I like the way you smell. Like, your perfume. It’s nice.”

Ellie winces internally, wanting more than anything to kick open the emergency exit and run back to her dorm and crawl under her covers and die. But the girl laughs — she laughs — and Ellie’s scuffed up boots stay planted firmly on the floor, so she doesn’t move.

“Thank you,” the girl replies, warm gaze sweeping over Ellie’s burning, freckled face. It’s obvious that her laugh wasn’t meant to be a mean one.

Ellie feels heat gather in her face and turns to look at the handrail she’s squeezing, studying it as if it were the most interesting thing on the bus. But it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t, not with that pretty girl standing so close to her. But she can’t find it in herself to say anything else, so she just keeps staring at the handrail until the bus comes to a screeching halt.

It’s her stop.

Ellie hesitates for a fleeting moment, wanting more than anything to ask for her name or something. Instead, she lets go of the handrail and picks up her umbrella, sparing one last look at the girl — who’s too caught up in her novel to notice — before stepping off the bus into the biting wind and pouring rain.

Unbeknownst to her, the girl peeks up from her book with a small, giddy smile to watch her go just as the bus doors close.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: annoying boyfriend, toxic relationship, platonic!gaz being a cutiepie, price being the greenest flag known to mankind, fem!reader, I’ve never changed a tire before in my life and it’s glaringly obvious…

A/N: been in a major writing slump lately+school kicking my butt+I think I’m getting sick, but full credit to @ceilidho for this idea, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Your day hadn’t been the shittiest so far, but it certainly hadn’t been great.

You’d been off that day, but your boyfriend had called, needing you to pick him up early from his job for whatever reason. He only worked at some little restaurant in town with a decent salary, enough to get food and rent paid for combined with your money anyway. Something about his shifts being moved or the schedule being off, but whatever it had been had been enough for you to hop into his truck, drive over to him, and pick him up.

“Did you cook for dinner tonight?”

He asked from the passenger seat, the seatbelt not even on, despite it already being dark because of the early winter months, and the rain coming down against the windshield. Your lights were on, but still.

“No, wasn’t thinkin’ about it.”

You replied with a small mumble, and he sighed. You were the one who cooked and kept the housework up, and he earned most of the money. It would be balanced, except for the fact that you earned almost the same amount of money as him, and also worked full-time. It barely left any time for meals, most just being pre-prepped on weekends, or thrown together.

“Guess we can just get takeout then.”

He said, tone holding a bit of disappointment. You sighed inwardly, turning your turn signal on as you went down the road to one of the nearest places there. It was a run-down chicken joint that you were pretty sure was a front for some sort of illegal activities, but they had delicious chicken at cheap prices, so you weren’t complaining.

Your mind began to wander when you thought about the restaurant, and what you’d order. You hoped your boyfriend had brought his card because you’d left your wallet at home, ID and license long forgotten. Well, I guess you were just hoping to not get pulled over tonight, or come in contact with any cops.

As if whatever gods there were had heard your thought process, a small ‘thump’ caught your attention, and then a light squeaking sound as the air pressure in your front right tire began rapidly decreasing. With a sigh, you pulled over onto the side of the not-too-busy road. Your boyfriend gave an exasperated exhale.

“We’re gonna have to change the tire.”

You said, and he gave you a withering glance, jerking his chin towards the back of the truck.

“Spare’s in the back. Got a few tools back there to get ‘er done.”

A small pause for a moment as your hand reached for the handle of the door, and he didn’t move at all. You just stared in pure shock.

“You aren’t going to help?”

He gave you a look as if to say you were being ridiculous and illogical right now. You hated that look.

“I just got off work. I’m tired and hungry, and your poor driving skills aren’t my problem.”

He said with a shrug like it was obvious. Your mind still reeling, you searched for the little umbrella you kept near the console, only to find it missing. Great, just great, you thought.

With no other option, you stepped outside, immediately being pelted by the cold raindrops, and skin being lashed at by the harsh wind. You walked around to the trunk, opening the back, and finding the spare tire there, and a toolbox as well. Your shivering hands sorted through the cold metal tools, eventually finding a lug wrench, and a screwdriver, and behind the toolbox you found a jack.

You advanced towards the flat tire, rolling the spare behind you, and you knelt, skirt already soaking wet, your white shirt soaked through and not leaving much to the imagination as it was practically see-through and sticking to your form. The lug nuts didn’t come off easily, but somehow, your fingers got them.

Right when you began using the screwdriver to try and get the hubcap off, something else caught your attention.

Another car, beat up, but well-loved on and taken care of pulled up behind you on the side of the road. It stopped, and two men stepped out. One was taller, with a beard, a thick cigar in his mouth, and a hat on. He might’ve been one of the owners of that chicken restaurant. Whatever it was, he looked familiar. The other man had pretty brown skin, was less tall but still had some muscle in him like the other man, and wore his hat.

The taller one strode up to you just as you managed to pry the hubcap off. His brows furrowed as he looked at your boyfriend sitting in the car, and you, drenched in rain, changing the flat tire of the truck he assumed probably wasn’t even yours.

“Gaz, come help ‘er out wit’ this.”

He said, his voice brusque but also warm at the same time. Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he gave a nod of his head to you.

“John Price, that there is Kyle, but we call ‘im Gaz.”

You blinked, and Kyle walked over, crouching down next to you and offering a polite smile. One that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it wasn’t rude. Price must’ve noticed your shivering form or the sheer white shirt that was clear because of the rain because he took his brown jacket off and put it around your shoulders. The insides were fuzzy and warm, and it was oversized, but enough to keep the heat insulated and the wet cold out. A bit surprised, you simply said your name.

“Oh..thanks. Y/N.”

You offered, for some reason trusting these strangers enough to give them your real name. Something about them felt right. Price nodded, then raised a brow at your boyfriend in the car, who still hadn’t noticed them, too preoccupied with his phone.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doin’ changin’ wheels out here?”

John asked, and you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you cast a glance up at the boy in the car.

“He wasn’t going to help.”

Gaz and Price both looked slightly taken aback by that, exchanging glances, as Price opened up the door where your boyfriend was (avoiding hitting you or his sergeant's heads with it, of course) and pulled him out by the collar.

“Hey—what-“

Price shut him up real quick, then moved to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Now you listen here, why’ve you got your girl ou’ here doing all this work in the soakin’ rain, when you should be the one doing this, yeah?”

He asked, and your boyfriend turned a light shade of pink that wasn’t fully visible in the dark of the night.

“Well, I..”

“I’ll show you how a real man provides for his partner. Garrick, move over.”

He shoved your boyfriend back into the grass, and Gaz scooted more to the right, letting Price take the left side. Price carefully grabbed you by the hips and moved you back, out of the way, but to where you could still watch and hear him talk.

“Can’t believe it, ‘at’s ridiculous.”

He muttered, and Kyle shook his head.

“Can’t help but agree, sir.”

They used the jack to jack the car up, strong arms easily placing the spare tire in place, Gaz holding it up while Price screwed the lugnuts back on. While putting the hubcap back on, John began talking to you.

“You oughta find you a man, someone that would provide for you, that lil’ boy you got isn’t it. We’d never treat a woman like that, now would we, Gaz?”

“Never, sir.”

“Look at ‘im, two complete strangers are here, changing out his tire, and he ain’t offered a lick o’ help.”

He said, shaking his head, not even glancing back at your boyfriend who still was sitting in the grass behind you all. The hubcap was put back into place, and they both stood, lowering the jack before removing it. Price offered you a hand up, and you took it, surprisingly enjoying how his burly callouses felt against your soft skin. Kyle put the tools and jack back in the trunk, before again being at Price’s side.

His eyes met Kyle’s, and Kyle took out a small notepad and pen, scribbling something down, before passing it to John who did the same. They tore the paper off, handing it to you. It was their numbers, Gas’s having a little smiley face next to it, and Price’s having a simple ‘Call me’.

“If you’re ever in trouble, give us a ring.”

Price said, and Gaz nodded as if to confirm this. You took the piece of paper and folded it in half, putting it in your pocket to protect it from the rain. Price gave you a little pat on the back, and Gaz brushed his hand ever so slightly against yours, before they both walked back to their car, getting in, and driving off with nothing more than a wave.

With a judgemental look down at your boyfriend, you got into the car, throwing his things that were still inside out at him where he was still sitting in the grass.

“We’re done.”

And with that, you drove off before his angry cussing started.

It was only when you got home that night (to the shared apartment, which you would very soon be leaving) that you noticed something. Price hadn’t ever taken his jacket back.

[yourlocallunatic]

You're Insufferable

Ridoc Gamlyn x Fem!reader 18+

Summary: Ridoc is a tease and everyone knows it and deals with it. But for some reason he drives you absolutely insane. The bickering is constant but there is something else lying underneath all the arguing. (follows Fouth Wing plot! I'm only halfway done with OS but I just love Ridoc sm)

Warnings: minor character deaths, smut! piv, oral sex (f receiving), light choking, a spank or two. sorta dom!Ridoc domsub dynamics. our boy is a relentless tease.

wordcount: 12.5K

notes: reader is described to have long hair because this is entirely self-indulgent. there is just such a lack of Ridoc stories, I needed moreeee. (yes it's long I got carried away)

Ridoc fucking Gamlyn. The bane of your existence. It started the day you crossed the parapet, you were determined to get across if only to spare your family from seeing your dead body on day one. The first rider of the family meant you were already dead to them, no one was there to prepare you for the onslaught you would face. And that day on the parapet was too close, the wind and rain caught you off guard, but it was your stupid long hair that was almost the death of you.

Your arms were out at your side to keep your balance while the wind whipped around you. You could hear the soon-to-be cadet behind you cursing with every step he took, his nervous laughs filling the air. It was hard to keep your balance though with your hair flying into your eyes every five seconds, and moving it away from your face took away precious time, the boy was getting closer. In a swipe of your hair, you glanced behind you quickly catching the dark-haired boy's eye, and he fucking grinned at you. Was it meant to be intimidating? No. But with how much adrenaline was coursing through your body the only thought you had was that he wanted to throw you off the edge to get rid of you early. You tried to pick up your pace but it only caused the wet strands of your hair to fly back in your face quicker resulting in you momentarily losing your balance. You crouch closer to the rocky surface trying to regain your balance slowly, a shaky breath leaving you as you hear the boy approaching closer.

"Better chop off that pretty hair when we get across or you're as good as gone when challenges start!" he shouted over the wind, his voice was teasing but you couldn't help the fear that was still running through your veins.

"Shut. Up." you grit out. You'd recovered your pace but he was still behind you.

"Hey, just trying to help. Or you can fall and I'd have one less cute girl to talk to and that would be a shame," he was so close to you you could feel his laugh on the back of your neck. But you ignored him, trying to focus on getting across the last quarter of the parapet. "You excited?" you give no response, again tucking your hair behind your ears, "can't say I'm thrilled with being potentially killed but hey, the lives we choose to live." You roll your eyes your pace now quickening with being so close to the confined walls of Basgiath once more. "Wait up! Don't want you running off without your new friend!" you were so close, ten more steps.

A deep exhale leaves you as you jump the short distance from the parapet to the grounds, a girl sits at a table with a sheet of paper and a pen waiting to take names. She jots down your name and gives you a tight-lipped smile before calling the next person.

"Ridoc Gamlyn," that gods-damned voice again. You try to speed away before he can get to you after giving his name but you don't make it. "Hey!" he calls to you. That's it. Better to get him off of you now before it becomes a habit.

"Hey?" you turn on your heel and stare him down causing him to almost run into you with the stride he was going at, "What the fuck was that back there?"

"Uhm I'm sorry?" he questions confusion taking hold of his face.

"I said, what the fuck was that? You were right behind me shouting in my ear! I know we're not supposed to root for each other but you're trying to kill me already?" you knew your face was going red with the anger consuming you. Gods, you couldn't wait for this guy to be gone.

"Woah, princess, I was just helping. Your hair is going to get in the way, take a look around, who else here has that long of hair?" you don't want to but you look around anyway. Every person, male, female, or otherwise had either short, cropped hair or it was tied back tightly. He gives you an I told you so look before speaking again. "That's because they're all at the bottom of the river, I was just there in case you lost your sight again. Whatever I'm done with this shit." He rolls his eyes before turning away and walking elsewhere.

You sigh to yourself. This was going to be a long three years and you've already made an enemy. With your luck, he would try to kill you that night.

Your first night as Basgiath started better than you expected. You'd managed some small talk with some other first years and the two girls invited you to sit with them at supper that night. One of them was the Sorrengail girl you'd heard everyone talking about, she was slight but with her stubborn determination you had no doubt she would try to cheat death in here. The other girl was taller, her hair braided back in dark cornrows, Violet was also smart enough to have her long, silver ends tied up. Shit. Maybe Gamlyn was right. You did your best to keep your eyes on him throughout supper, he sat a few tables away from you with some other first years, but clearly, you weren't being very discreet with your wandering gaze.

"Already found someone worth sleeping with?" Rhiannon questioned teasingly, turning to look at who you were staring at, "He's cute."

"No. He's a fucking asshole is what he is." You grumble, stabbing some lettuce with your fork.

"Ridoc, I talked to him earlier," Violet speaks up, "he was nice to me. Bit of a smart-ass but he's funny. What happened with you two?"

"He tried to kill me up on the parapet!" you say, definitely louder than you wanted to, and shit of course he looked up right as you said that. He excused himself from his table and made his way over to you guys. You swear your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. His stride was confident, a smirk playing on his lips as he brushed his dark curls away from his forehead. No. You internally scold yourself, he may be attractive with his lean frame but he was annoying as hell.

"Is the princess telling lies about me?" he smoothly slides between Rhiannon and Violet throwing his arms around their shoulders a grin eating up his face.

"You tried to kill her?!" Violet shoves his arm away from her, looking at him incredulously.

"Of course not!" rage consumes you, "I was just staying close to her, her hair kept flying in her face, was just there in case she lost sight completely and fell," he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"No. You were fucking distracting me!" your utensils clatter on your plate, "telling me to 'chop off my pretty hair'" You lower your voice to imitate him and he dares to laugh at you.

"Well...what do you girls think?" he says looking between the other two, their minds processing.

"I hate to say it...but Ridoc is right, it'll probably make it easier if you cut it, or at least tie it back like Violet," Rhiannon gives you an apologetic look and a shrug.

"That settles it then princess, just trying to help," Ridoc shoves himself away from the table before walking back to his seat, turning around halfway to meet your gaze, and winks at you. You roll your eyes in response before turning back to the girls. They share a look before going back to their meals.

The next morning in the barracks Violet had offered to braid your hair back for you and you begrudgingly agreed. You hated Ridoc being right. Zihnal was not with you because when first years began being added to squads you were thrilled to be with Rhiannon and Violet, but your excitement was short-lived as Ridoc was the next name called to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing. He takes his place behind you and you do your best to ignore him as he talks to Sawyer–another member of your squad.

"Ah, look who took my advice!" you feel a tug on one of the two plaits Violet had done on you and you turn with fury.

"Take your hands off me Gamlyn," Rhiannon turns from where she stands next to you, grabbing your hand in an attempt to calm you.

"Someone's fiery this morning," he laughs, "looks good on you princess," he winks again, and before you or anyone else can stop you, the hand Rhiannon didn't have a hold on flew and slapped Ridoc straight on the cheek. He raises his hand to hold his face as you hear a shout a couple of rows ahead of you. "What the fuck?!" Ridoc shouts the shock evident on his face.

"Cadets!" your new squad leader–Dain Aetos–approaches the two of you, "You're a part of a squad now! Act like it. There will be plenty of time to fight during sparring, now behave yourselves." You turn back into formation hearing Ridoc grumbling behind you. Holy shit. What've you just done...? You hit your squadmate! You'd unknowingly unlocked months of intense rivalry between the two of you, all because you couldn't hold your temper.

The weeks went by slower than you thought, days of intense training and studying. Being a rider was a hell of a lot more difficult than you imagined it to be. But the most difficult part was trying to keep your temper around the man who was trying to make your life a living hell. Your other squadmates were fed up with your bickering. It ranged everywhere from trivial arguments about homework to betting who would make it up the gauntlet first when the training was to start. Challenges were going to start soon too, no longer assigned fighting partners and you knew Ridoc would challenge you only to bring revenge on the slap you'd landed on him the first day. But you were smart, you'd started studying his fighting style the moment he stepped onto the mat during the assessment. He held up alright, eventually knocking a tooth out of Aurelie's mouth, but that was before the daily training. As annoying of a squad leader that Dain was, he worked you all hard, and with gauntlet practice approaching too, he ensured you were all eating more than your share of food. Ridoc had gone from a lean floppy-haired boy who teased you on the parapet, to a now filled-out man beating most of his opponents in challenges.

But the most annoying part about Ridoc is that you didn't mind him...he was kind to the people he cared about and there had been more than one occurrence where you had to hold back your laughter from one of his jokes. But it was already over, you'd already hit him and he'd already decided that he would get his retaliation. So now every morning at breakfast you'd have to hear his taunting voice tease you.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"Does that scowl hurt your pretty face?"

"Seems like the princess hasn't gotten any this week, she's grumpy."

Day after day. Thank the gods when it came to serious moments he seemed to hold back. You were halfway up the gauntlet, about to cross the shaking posts. Only moments earlier Ridoc had been arguing with Tynan about Barlowe, you and Violet had shared a glance, never seeing him lose his temper and it was...kind of hot. He was taunting Tynan from the ground, and you'd expected the same when you began, but he stayed oddly silent. You'd surprised yourself after making it to the top, the training was paying off.

The next week, challenges began, and you were ready. Just as you'd expected Ridoc challenged you. Rhiannon gave you a nervous look as Sawyer tried to talk him out of it.

"Are you sure?" Rhi asked you as you stripped off your flight jacket, leaving you only in your training top and pants with half of your daggers strapped to your belt.

"It's fine, Rhi. We all knew that this was going to happen. Maybe after this, he'll give up and stop annoying the shit out of me." You approach the mat, Ridoc already standing ready, his arms swinging at his sides to pump himself up. Did his shirt get tighter somehow? No. Not the time for that. You shove the thoughts to the back of your mind, trying to bring all the memories of the times he irritated you to the forefront. You take your stance, a dagger in each hand just like he did.

"Ready, princess?" He teased, that gods-damned annoying smirk splayed across his face.

"Begin," Emmeterio announced, and Ridoc pounced. You'd been watching him, he always skirted around his opponents waiting for them to make the first move, but not this time. It caught you off guard but you were able to move away in time, moving around him before throwing out a leg to knock him off balance. It worked for a moment but he was on you again in no time. He was moving fast, but you could move fast too. You hit each other with a series of blocks before you were able to knock a dagger out of one of his hands. He cursed, but that only freed up his hand to be able to grab your wrist, twisting until you dropped a dagger of your own. A gasp left your lips from the pain, and he eased up with the sound. He was going easy on you. Well fuck that. With his guard down you pull him closer, close enough that you could smell his sweat. Damn, why did he have to smell good too? You used that closeness to wrap a leg behind his knee to take you both down to the ground. You were on top of him now, his face contorted in frustration, only the second time you'd seen him lose his temper. He grunted and cursed.

"Fuck!" he shouted from between his teeth. Did you really get him this worked up? You grappled with each other, both of your remaining daggers lost somewhere on the mat, you tried to reach for your belt to grab another one while you were still on top but it made you lose your leverage. He was still stronger than you and you roll so that he now has the advantage above you. All these months he'd been preparing just so he could beat you. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. You've lost all semblance of control and tactic, now just thrashing to get out of his hold. He holds your wrists with one of his hands, his other shooting out with the speed of light to grab the dagger closest to him and bring it to your throat, "Yield!" he shouts louder than necessary. You stared into his eyes above you, his gaze was concentrated, and he knew he'd won. But you continue to stare at him before swallowing thickly, your eyes burned, tears threatened to spill over and his gaze softened, and the pressure of the dagger at your throat lightened significantly. You could use his moment of softness to try to gain back control but it was over, you'd already been humiliated.

"I yield," it was barely a whisper, only enough for him to hear. He gathered himself quickly and reached his hand down to help you up but you ignored it and picked up your daggers from the mat. You were missing one and you knew it was in Ridoc's hands. You turn to him, your gaze still low to the ground refusing to make eye contact. He mutters your name quietly, gently, and holds your dagger out to you, but you just push it back to him before rushing off the mat and gathering your things, leaving the training room. He'd won it, fair and square. You lost all control in that match, what was happening?

The next few days were awkward, to say the least. The rest of the squad tried their best to keep things normal, but nothing was normal without the banter between you and Ridoc. Slowly he seemed to regain some confidence in teasing you, it started light with you just rolling your eye in response, but by presentation day the two of you were in full-on arguments again.

"So how many of us do you think are going to be dragon lunch today?" Ridoc asks as you and the rest of the first years in your squad are waiting for your turn on the gauntlet.

"That's cruel, Ridoc," you reply, not in the place for humor this morning with how nervous you were, and you were sure you were not the most nervous, Violet still couldn't get up the wall.

"We live in a cruel world, princess," he mutters shaking his head. You groan in annoyance, trying your best to hold your temper instead of retorting, instead turning your attention to Violet.

"How are you doing Vi? Is there anything we can do to help?" you weren't much taller than her but those couple of inches were enough for you to bridge the gap to get up the wall.

"I'll be okay," she takes a deep breath, strangely calm for the situation you were about to enter. Luca was behind you two beginning her rant on the dragon she would be choosing. As if. Presentation was for the dragons to decide who was worthy and who would be torched. The past months had all led up to this. Every breath you took was shallow the entire way up the gauntlet, so aware of every step you were making and how fast you were making them. You released a breath once you reached the top, the rest of your squad cheering for you. Ridoc was right behind you breeching the top of the sloped wall, he whoops and gathered Rhiannon and Sawyer into hugs, the three of them laughing before he turned to you, a huge smile still on his face.

"Nice work Gamlyn," you say giving him a forced smile.

"Ah, a compliment, that's the first one I've received from you, I could get used to this!" He throws an arm around you squeezing you close.

"Way to ruin it," you grumble removing his arm from you before turning your attention back to Violet on the course. Oddly, you miss the warmth of his arm on you. He's always been touchy with the rest of your little crew, often embracing them or keeping an arm on them during meals or classes. You'd even see him press a kiss to Rhi's head after she'd helped him with physics. But with you, he didn't cross that line. Did he hate you that much? Or was it just because he knew how you would react? Your thoughts race as you watch Violet do the same, right before she grabs a rope from the side of the course and hauls herself up. Then using her daggers to climb her way up. This girl was something special. You grin and clap your hands as the rest of your squad cheers.

"That's our girl!" Ridoc shouts, obviously proud of his friend. Some of the other wings began groaning complaining that she cheated but all the noise falls into the background as the rest of your squad huddles up. That was the easy part. Now the next could very well mean your death. You try to calm yourself, hold it together, and keep all semblance of control before the dragons can sense you.

Now at the top, you waited for the other squad to finish before you entered the flight field. One of the other wingleaders stood before you preparing you to enter, instructing you to make small talk so the dragons would get a feel for you as well as recommending staying at least seven feet apart in case another squad member got torched.

"Nice day for presentation," Ridoc jokes 'small talking' with the senior wingleader.

"Not with me, with them," she rolls her eyes at his antics, and gods of course Ridoc will be right behind you annoying you the whole way. You knew you'd have to try your best to be in control or else you'd lose your temper in front of the dragons.

"Lucky me I have a wonderful view to distract me from our impending dooms," Ridoc laughs, anger swelled in your chest. You hear Rhiannon scold him and smack him upside the head, a smirk grows on your face but you stay facing forward.

Your senses feel heightened as you make your way onto the flight field, dragons surrounding the edges, a smile gracing your face at the pure wonder that these creatures held.

"They're pretty incredible aren't they?" you hear the awe in Ridoc's voice behind you, no humor or teasing, just... Ridoc.

"They really are," you respond to him and turn to face him, he was grinning, clearly he was made to be a rider. He turned slightly and met your gaze, his smile not faltering. His eyes shined in the sunlight this high atop the cliffs and you turn back to watch where you're walking before you get caught up in staring at him any longer. Why did this keep happening to you? As you neared the end of the field before turning back you caught sight of the illustrious feathertail, Violet was enthralled, her eyes not moving away from the creature. But your eyes wandered to something else going on only feet away.

A red scorpiontail on the smaller side was sitting peacefully in the sun, she was practically glowing. But what caught your attention was the brown swordtail a little larger than her that approached where she sat. He nudged her with his nose, seeming to almost mutter things at her before he rolled on top of her putting what seemed to be his entire weight on her. The red reared up, a deep growl leaving her throat, drawing the rest of your squad's attention to the two dragons. The brown stood again, circling the red while making grunting sounds to her, right before she swung her neck and snapped her massive teeth at the swordtail.

"Hey, princess," Ridoc is right beside you now, his voice hot on your neck from where he leans down close to your ear. "That red looks like you during math lessons, so grumpy," he's whispering to not draw attention to the two dragons, but you make the deadly mistake of reacting.

"Well if you helped me like you did everyone else maybe I'd be fine!" you turn to face him, a scowl traced between your brow, unbeknownst to you two it drew the attention of the two dragons.

"Woah now you look even more like her!" he laughs quietly before reaching out a finger to poke right between your eyebrows where your scowl formed.

"Ugh! You're insufferable!" you turn on your heel expecting to walk ahead of him again before coming face to face with the red scorpiontail. Your breath stopped and fear coursed through you. You heard Ridoc gasp your name.

"Don't fucking move," his words are seethed between his teeth but you barely resonate them. You feel the dragon's hot breath on your face, the smell of sulfur strong. "Please don't die, please don't die," Ridoc repeats the mantra as if it will help seal your fate. You keep your eyes low to the ground not daring to make eye contact, knowing that would be your death sentence. The dragon's gaze moves from you and you take the opportunity to look at her face. She was incredible. And her eyes were locked on Ridoc. Shit. But you didn't have time to assess your feelings before the massive creature was tackled to the ground by the brown swordtail.

You released your breath staring at the creatures fighting in front of you. Their roars echoed through the field as the chuffs of other dragons were heard from the edges as if they were egging the two on. You felt someone grab your hand and you were tugged to the beginning of the field again. You meet up with your squad about 20 feet ahead where Rhiannon is standing in front of the burnt corpse of Pryor, you hear Luca start to say something about him right before she gets torched right in front of your eyes. You gasp holding on tighter to the hand in yours, Ridoc's hand. Once you realize you dropped it immediately, but not before Violet could notice. You risk a glance behind you to look for the red scorpiontail again, praying she is alive. But the sight you were fixed with was not one you were expecting to see. The two dragons were still on the ground fighting, but they were both still alive, the brown was a bit bigger, you had expected him to take the red down fast, but there they still were.

"Come on, let's go!" Ridoc urges you, pulling on your arm yet again.

"Wait, Ridoc, watch them!" You were captivated, and surprisingly, Ridoc stopped pulling and watched the dragons with you. "They're playing."

"No, they're fighting, let's go," he tugs again, and this time you comply. His hand doesn't release yours until you're off the flight field.

The mess hall that night seemed a hell of a lot smaller after having lost so many first years in one day. You were sure there would be even less after threshing. Your squad was down two more people now. You sat with Rhi, Violet, Sawyer, and Ridoc who were all discussing the dragons you'd seen today. Rhiannon talks about a green that had been all up in Violet's business while you and Ridoc were being intimidated by the red scorpiontail, while Violet says she didn't feel a connection to any of them.

"What about you?" Rhiannon says your name, drawing you into the conversation. You open your mouth to speak but before you could Ridoc interjects.

"Well, I for one think that red scorpiontail already loves you. You two even have the same frown and grumpy demeanor!"

"Shut up, Ridoc," you turn your attention to Rhi. "But yeah, I did feel drawn to her..." your voice went quieter.

"Well you might as well go for that brown then, Ridoc," Sawyer speaks up. "with how annoying he was being to that red those two dragons are practically you guys already." He laughs, the girls nodding in agreement.

"You wound me," Ridoc puts a hand to his heart, "but unfortunately I think that guy took down the red so the princess is gonna have to find another dragon." No. He didn't, you knew that both of the dragons were still alive, and it pissed you off that Ridoc decided to taunt you about it when you'd just said you were drawn to that red.

"They were just playing Ridoc!" you shout, sounding almost childish with your insistence.

"Yeah right," his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

"They were! Don't you think one of them would've already been dead by the time we turned around? And neither of them were going for death blows, it was almost like they were sparring or something..." you mumble out the end, brows knitting as you think about it.

"Maybe it's their form of flirting then," Ridoc jokes, earning him a groan from Rhiannon. "What? If I were a dragon that's how I'd try to get a girl, relentless teasing, tackling her to the ground, you know that sort of thing." Ridoc shrugs and the wheels in my brain start turning.

"And that's why you mostly sleep with men..." Violet says under her breath, she and Rhiannon start to giggle.

"Hey! I'll have you know I can pleasure a woman just as well as I can a man. The women at Basgiath are just too controlling, I like to be in control," Ridoc smirks, leaning back in his seat. Why did he have to talk about this... now that's all you could think about. Your memory shifts to when he challenged you, his hands pinning your wrists, his body on top of you. You shake your head to try to clear the thoughts, this was your rival for god's sake! Why were you thinking like this?

"Really? You're the controlling one in bed?" Sawyer scoffs in disbelief.

"Don't sound so shocked. From my experience, everyone needs to give up control every once in a while, and the bedroom is an excellent place to do it when you have someone like me to be in charge." Oh. Fuck. You try to take a drink of water to cool your burning nerves but all it does is cause you to choke on it. You sputter trying to catch your breath, "You okay there, princess? Not scaring you off am I?" Ridoc winks at you. Okay. That's enough. Time for a cold shower and bedtime, surely you wouldn't feel like this in the morning. You ignore his comment and excuse yourself from supper before rushing to the showers.

It was late when Violet and Rhiannon returned to the barracks, you lay there pretending to be asleep. Even when Violet brought up the fact that you seemed off at dinner. Fuck, you really had to pull yourself together before threshing next week, or Ridoc was going to make your life miserable with his teasing.

You managed to make it through the week without drawing too much attention to yourself, though Ridoc was still relentless when it came to teasing you. But the morning of threshing was...rough to say the least. Everyone's nerves were on fire, even the ever-confident Ridoc was vomiting behind a tree. You grimaced feeling sorry for him, he might not show it but he wanted to succeed, just as you all did. Professor Kaori advised on what to do when approaching a dragon, he also said that if a dragon had already chosen you they'd be calling you. Okay, what is that supposed to feel like? You snark internally. You had no idea what to expect when entering the valley. It was happening too fast, you heard Ridoc instruct the rest of your squad to stay alive and you all went your separate ways.

You'd been walking through the valley for hours now, and the sun was falling low on the horizon giving you one maybe two hours maximum. If you were any other person you'd be wondering if there were even any dragons left out here, but you felt in your bones that your dragon was still out here, you just had to find them fast enough. You neared the ends of the boundaries only a few miles left within them, you'd managed to avoid other dragons thus far and only ran into one other cadet–a girl from Third wing–who looked so frightened that you would kill her that she ran off right away, like a dragon would choose that. The further you walked the stronger the hum in your body felt, you were getting close. The setting sun shone through the trees illuminating the path and if it weren't for the sun, you would've entirely missed the glint to your right side. You turned, hand ready on your dagger, but once you met her gaze you knew the beautiful creature wouldn't hurt you.

The red scorpiontail stepped out of the shadows of the forest, the sun glinting off her scales making them look like rubies. It was the dragon from presentation. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as she walked closer to you, she was alive. You stood, watching her in awe as she circled you sniffing you and feeling you out before a warm grumble sounded in her throat.

"Will you come with me?" her voice echoed in your head, elegant but firm, she was not asking you, she was telling you to come with her, or you would not return.

"If you’ll have me…" You didn't want to scare her off so you held your palm out to her, letting her run her face along you, the warm scales felt so naturally under your hand. She turned to the side in a silent order to climb on her back. You made the movements and took your seat. This was unlike anything you'd felt, you were a rider.

"Now hold on, squeeze your legs, and keep your grip," you don't know if you'd ever get used to hearing her voice in your head. You do as she says, you keep your grip and hold on. The wind through your hair is like nothing you've felt before, tears sting your eye from the brightness of the setting sun. As you climb higher into the sky you look around you, you're a good five miles from the field where all the new riders are landing their dragons. Over the wind, you're able to hear the loud shouts of someone all too familiar. You look to your left and see Ridoc on the top of a brown swordtail, again the same one from presentation. What are the fucking odds?

"Look at us, princess! We're riders!" the joy in his tone is infectious and you can't help but smile as he risks throwing one of his hands in the air to feel the wind. Despite your joy, you feel grumbles beneath you and look down to see your dragon shooting sideways glances at Ridoc's dragon.

"Are you alright?" you shout over the wind, "Do you not like that dragon? We saw you two the other day!"

"Not so loud girl, I can hear your thoughts just fine. I know you saw me, dragons remember much better than humans," Her tone is short, clearly she's irritated.

"That's Ridoc, he hates me." you give the whole 'mental talking thing' a go.

"Don't be stupid, girl, I said I saw you two that day, he was begging for me not to kill you."

"Well I saw you two that day too, you're practically shooting fire through your eyes at his dragon now but the two of you were rolling around in the grass together the other day..." Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, red dragons are known for being notoriously angsty. A grumble reverberates through her chest as she flies faster, and out of range from Ridoc and his dragon.

"Aotrom has been trying to mate with me since we were adolescents, we're both still too young to mate but he doesn't seem to give up,"

"Oh so he likes you, that's what this is about."

"Yes but he's insufferable about it, you saw him, he laid on top of me!" her body seemed to grow even hotter with the annoyance running through her. This conversation was all too familiar.

The two of you continued talking until you landed most of the cadets already back. It was odd but strangely comforting talking to Cairistìona, the two of you feeling the same things.

Ridoc had landed just after you, running over and pulling you in a hug before spotting Rhiannon and doing the same to her. He was too excitable, you don't even know if he noticed it was you he was hugging. Rhiannon came over to you and gathered you in her strong arms.

"I'm so happy!" She squealed. "Fierge told me that's the same red you saw in the field the other day."

"Yeah, Cairis," You return her embrace and turn your head to look where you left her. Aotrom–Ridoc's dragon–was rubbing against her like a cat and chortling, she whipped her head around and blew a small cloud of fire at the brown dragon.

"Hey!" you hear Ridoc shout, running over to Aotrom. "Tell her to back off!"

"Oh he's fine," you defend Cairis walking to where she bares her teeth at Ridoc. "Dragons are fireproof, and besides, he was in her personal space."

"He likes her, can't you tell her that!" he cries, Aotrom lowering his nose to receive attention from Ridoc, gods these boys were going to be menaces.

"Tell the boy I already know and don't want to talk about it." Cairis turns her head in a pout.

"She knows Ridoc, and she doesn't care, maybe you should tell him to leave her alone!" you fold your arms across your chest, watching Ridoc as he walks closer to you.

"Oh please, he's not going to give her up, she's his mate!" your voices arguing carried across the field, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Sawyer and Rhiannon approaching and you briefly worry about Violet.

"Not yet she's not! And I pray to Amari they never do mate because that means I'll have to spend the rest of my life miserable!" the two of you are inches apart now his warm brown eyes staring into yours.

"Woah, woah, calm down guys," Sawyer says as Rhiannon pulls you back.

"You have no idea, princess I'd rock your world," he smirks and you're sure your face blooms red, out of anger or because he flirted. You had not a clue.

"Want me to torch him? He reminds me of a certain dragon, maybe they can burn together..." you hear Cairis' voice in the back of your head.

"NO." Your response is too quick and you know it.

"Oh...you don't like him do you?"

"No, I just...he's still my friend...I think. He just annoys the ever-loving shit out of me. And don't pretend you'd kill Aotrom too, we both know you could've killed him already."

"Don't forget your place little one," Cairis' voice looms louder before she turns with a whip of her tail, the poison barb inches from Aotrom's face. "Now go to your friend she just returned, the Empyrean has much to talk about now."

Violet was certainly a force to be reckoned with, you'd learned that early on. But bonding two dragons? And one of them being one of the most powerful...gods, she was something. The Empyrean discussed while the rest of your squad sat in the grass and waited. Rhiannon and Sawyer separated you and Ridoc before you got into any more arguments. This was good because Ridoc was going on and on about how hard he was going to be celebrating tonight with the rest of the new rider cadets, as well as deciding who he wanted to take to bed. You couldn't help the annoyance (jealousy?) that came from it.

"Yeah right, Gamlyn, like anyone wants to go to bed with you after the long day we've had," you scoff, not able to hold back your comment.

"I can be relaxing, want me to show you, princess?" He retorts. How does he always have something to say back?!

"Down boy," Rhi jokes, "she already has to deal with you and now she has to deal with your dragon too, give it a rest." You throw Rhiannon a thankful gaze before your dragons approach you again.

"Time for you to sleep girl, we start flight maneuvers this week, rest up." You stand to greet Cairis and her head nestles in your hands. She seemed to have a bit of a temper but you knew she would do anything to protect you now. You were bonded. So you watched her launch into the sky before heading back to the caves of the Vale, Aotrom following behind her like a love-sick puppy.

-------

The next few weeks grew harder, all your free time thrown into school work and flight maneuvers, and since Violet was attacked Dain has ordered squad hand-to-hand combats every Tuesday night. You could tell that even Ridoc was getting weary, his comments to you had just turned to eye rolls. He would still throw one in now and again during flight, Cairis and Aotrom's petty snaps at each other made it difficult for you not to fight with one another. You'd managed to talk Cairis into being gentler with Aotrom–at least when you were around–if only to give you a slight sense of peace. But just like his rider, Aotrom was untamable.

It was a Tuesday night, you were in the training room and everyone began to spar with one another. Ridoc had tried to convince Liam to join him but Liam refused now that he was Violet's guardian so Imogen stepped in. You and Sawyer worked on your blocks with one another when Xaden and Garrick walked in. The two stripped their shirts off and began to spar with one another. You hear a low whistle as Violet and Rhiannon, even Imogen from where she held Ridoc in a headlock had their heads turned to watch the bulky, chiseled men fighting each other. To be fair it was boiling in the training room that night, the heat was cranked due to the cold December snows, and nearly every man had his shirt removed, including Sawyer across from you and the girls all in their training vests. Ridoc taps in fast succession before Imogen releases him and you're all dismissed by Dain for a water break. You chug from your bottle as Rhiannon approaches next to you.

"Did you see those two?" she asks you, talking about Xaden and Garrick. They were sure something to look at, their winding rebellion relics and dragon relics covering them. "Makes me feel way too straight looking at them..." she draws off and you giggle at her, looking over to see Violet who is practically drooling at Xaden.

"I don't know if I want to be them or be with them," you hear Ridoc speak from the other side of you. You turn to see him drinking his water, small dribbles falling down his chest–his now bare chest–as he pants heavily. You thought Xaden and Garrick were something sure... but Ridoc...holy Dunne. You knew he'd gained some muscle since he'd gotten here, but you didn't know he was fully jacked now! His body was fully carved by the gods. Maybe he wasn't as chiseled as Xaden or built like an ox like Garrick but he was...perfect. Your body grows hotter than it already was your mind racing. Why were you reacting like this to Ridoc of all people? Sawyer was just as attractive and way nicer. It had been happening way too often for this to just be a one-time thought.

"Ever occur to you maybe you like him?" Ciaris asks, listening to your thoughts.

"Not now," You reply quickly before putting up your shields and blocking her out.

"Hey, princess, want a rematch?" Ridoc asks, a grin plastered on his face. "No weapons this time?" You're sure your face was bright red at this point, your whole body at that. You just shake your head before gathering your stuff, haphazardly throwing your flight jacket on. You had to get out of here now.

"Hey where are you going?" you hear Violet call to you as you leave to ask Dain if you can leave early to finish homework.

"I have way too much homework, gonna see if Dain'll let me off 30 minutes early," you respond, still walking to your squad leader. He gives you the okay, and you go to walk past the rest of your squad before leaving the training room.

"I thought we were studying tonight for the math exam tomorrow?" Sawyer asks and you halt your steps. Oh shit, you'd forgotten, and Ridoc would have to be there, he was the best of you at math.

"Oh...um-yeah! Just wanted to shower first, just come to my room, we can study in there." Right a cold shower, would help. Then it would be fine to see Ridoc again, with his shirt on.

The cold water sprayed over you and you quickly cleaned yourself and washed your hair, rinsing away all your impure thoughts with the water. Once back to your room, you run oil through the ends of your long hair, still not having cut it since parapet, though now you'd kept it safely tied back. It was so much nicer to have your own room after being in the barracks for months. You sit at your desk and look over your workload, deciding to get some history done before the others come to study.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed before there was a knock at your door. You leap up from your chair, a smile on your face ready to greet the rest of your crew, but when you open the door your smile falls.

"Really? Are you that disappointed? I thought you were lightening up, didn't realize you were still a brat," Ridoc walks into your room and shuts the door behind him, flopping on your bed like he lived in there–at least he was clean, you could tell by his damp, tousled hair.

"Where are the others?" you ask turning from where you still stand by the door in your loose black sleep pants and a vest.

"'Hi Ridoc, hello, nice to see you' would be the appropriate response," he taunts, tossing his bag on the ground before laying back on your bed, his hands behind his head. You don't even respond to him, only giving him an annoyed look before he rolls his eyes and answers your question. "Sawyer took a fist to the face from Aetos, Rhiannon is taking him to the healers, broken nose. And Violet has whatever she has going on with Riorson...I don't even want to know. They said to go without them, that you'd need the most help with math anyway." He sits up again on your bed scooting to the edge, seemingly not able to sit still.

"Whatever, I'll just fail, you can go back to your room," you complain heading to your desk and shutting your history books.

"No, it's okay, princess. I can help you."

"I don't want your help, Ridoc, just go," You turn and face where he sat on your bed, his face unreadable.

"Seriously? You're that proud?" his words strike you across the face, his mouth turned downward in a frown as he stands and takes a step towards you.

"I'm not proud!" you fumed, "I just know you're going to tease me for being so shitty at math!"

"You think that little of me?" he takes another step forward, "Sure, I like to tease you but don't mistake me, I wouldn't tease you over something you struggle with!" this is the most serious you've seen him. But you still have some confidence left.

"Really?! Because you've already done that!" you shout back at him, thankful that you have a sound shield on your door so no one hears you seething at each other.

"When?!" he retorted, throwing his arms to the side in confusion. You wrack your brain, looking for the right words to describe how it had made you feel.

"Every-fucking-day Ridoc! It's constant taunting and I just don't know how to respond! With everyone else, you're nice and funny but you just have it out for me! I know I started it when I slapped you, and I know I don't make it easy with how I respond, but I thought at least when you humiliated me after challenging me you would let go!" tears are welled up in your eyes from the amount of anger you feel. You thought you'd get Ridoc with that, you thought he'd break and apologize like the nice guy you know he is, but a terrifyingly playful smirk grew on his lips.

"Ever take a moment and think it's cause you're always acting like a brat, princess?" he takes another step towards you and another, and another, until he's hovering over you, your back pressed against your desk, his face only inches from yours. "Yes, I tease you, I tease all our friends, but you're the only one who stays acting like I'm some sort of fucking villain when I stop." You think about it. Truly think about it. Were you the only one? He was an over-confident smart-ass he made comments to everyone, so why did it bother you so much?

"Ah, cat got your tongue?" your breath is caught in your throat and you watch as he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Y'know, I saw you staring at me tonight, you're not nearly as sly as you ought to be..." he was fucking teasing you again. But the way he was doing this...gods your body was on fire.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, your voice barely a whisper. You look up and meet his eyes, his warm eyes, pools of chocolate that you could just melt in, and he is looking at you, really looking at you. In this moment you felt as if he could read your soul on a piece of paper.

"We both know that's not true," his voice dangerously low and confident. "And I think we both know that all you need..." his hand that tucked your hair behind your ear moves and he begins to trace your neck with the backs of his fingers, "is to give up control." You know your heart is beating out of control now. His hand now moved to grasp the side of your neck tightly, his other hand braced on the desk behind you. You were trapped against his body, the same way you were trapped when he held you against the mat, and it felt so good.

Before you could ask him for more, or surge up to kiss him like you may or may not have thought of doing while you were in the shower, he moves away and your body slinks in disappointment.

"Wanna know why I tease you?" he asks, his back turned to you as he picks up the trinkets on your bedside table.

"Desperately," you sigh out, hoping for an actual answer. He turns again a smirk on his face as he looks at the absolute mess he'd made of you already. He backs up and sits on the edge of your bed again, his legs spread wide before he answers you.

"Because it riles you up."

"Well I think I gathered that," you roll your eyes and look down at your hands.

"That first day after the parapet, I couldn't get over how fucking sexy you looked with that annoyed face," Oh. You knew this was heading somewhere, but for him to flat-out call you sexy made you press your legs together, "I can't get enough of it, even now." he looked away, all of his confidence suddenly gone. "And I wanted to see if once, once, you'd lose it."

"Lose it?" you question, and he laughs at you before running a hand through his dark hair.

"It happened once when you slapped me, and I thought it was going to happen again when I challenged you, but instead, you melted in my hands like a fucking puddle," he shakes his head and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, embarrassment evident on your features, "Awe, don't be embarrassed, princess." Gods, why was every fucking word he was saying making the wetness pool in your core?

"Ridoc?" You ask him, taking a step away from the desk and towards him, he hums in response, looking you over from head to toe, studying every inch of you. "You said that night, after presentation, that if you wanted to get a girl, you'd just 'tease her' and 'tackle her to the ground' like Cairis and Aotrom," you felt a bit silly saying his same words over again but continued, your voice still quiet, "is that...what you've been doing with me?" You take another step forward, "all the taunting, then challenging me...was that you trying to tell me you like me?" You were close enough to him now that he could just reach out and grab you, and he did.

Ridoc grabbed your arm and pulled you straight between his legs, the largest smile you'd ever seen from him taking up his entire face.

"Took you long enough to figure that out, princess," and there you were, in the arms of Ridoc Gamlyn, the man you'd argued with and fought with for the past several months, and it felt incredible. He seemed like a completely different person, but he wasn't. It was you and your perspective that changed, you were feeling what it felt like to just give into him, letting him tease you and taunt you for his pleasure, giving up your control.

"And do you remember what I said after that?" your breath caught in your throat at the memory. He liked to be in control, in charge. You nodded shyly from where you stood between his legs, all your confidence now lost. His hands that held your arms moved up to cradle your face, and you melted. "Look at you," he hummed, "Tell me. I want to hear you say what I said." you gathered all your courage and looked him in the eye.

"You said that everyone needs to give up control at some point..." your voice still low and quiet. "and that in the bedroom with someone like you is a good place for it."

"Seems like someone remembered well. The look on your face after I said that, gods...made me so fucking hard to see you that flustered." you couldn't help but press your legs together at his words, thinking of him getting so worked up over your reaction to him. "I knew after I challenged you just how easily you'd give in, but that was when I realized that it was me and my words that were getting you so fired up and you just don't know how to respond other than with anger." he was reading you like a damned book. How had he gathered all this when you couldn't even realize the capacity of your feelings?

"Y'know you're a lot smarter than everyone gives you credit for, Gamlyn," you smile a bit, opening yourself up.

"Yeah? I think that deserves a kiss," your instincts take over and you roll your eyes at his comment. One of his hands that held your face moved lower, his long fingers wrapping deftly around your throat and applying slight pressure, the annoyance in your face dropped and you felt your body submitting to him, a whine leaving you at the feeling of his hand on your throat. "Really, princess? I thought you were done with the attitude?" His voice is deep and raspy and he licks his lips as he watches your expression. Oh to feel that tongue on your body.

"I'm sorry...I just..." you trail off, your body practically quivering at this point in anticipation.

"'Just-just' what?" He mocks you. Fuck it. You couldn't wait any longer. You surge forward and capture his lips in yours. He's taken aback for a moment but it doesn't last long before he's devouring you. It's a mess of tongue and teeth as he pulls your body against him, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, "Still got some fire left in you? We'll see about that..." he mumbles out between kisses.

You're desperate for more, your hands moving all along his body before he picks you up as if you weigh nothing switches places with you, and pushes you back until you're laying against your bed. Your hands reach the bottom of his shirt and you begin to tug wanting more than anything to feel his skin on yours, but he stops you. Oh. Was he upset? You thought he wanted this...

"Huh uh, princess..." he drawls out, his voice like honey. Okay, he's still turned on, what was this about?! He takes a step back from you, his eyes raking over your body that was on the precipice of convulsing. "I've wanted this for too long, and once I have you...gods, I don't think I'll ever be able to keep myself away from you." your face scrunches in confusion, was he asking you to be his girlfriend right now?

"What do you mean?" you ask, looking for clarity.

Ridoc runs his palms over his face in exasperation before raking them through his still-damp hair. He seemed almost stressed. Whatever control he held just a moment ago, he was letting go of, showing you his full, raw, emotions. "I mean that I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should. And I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I want you fully and wholly. I'll even stop teasing you if that's what it takes for you to say yes! Even though you look so damned cute with your little frown." he smiles at the end of his sentence as if remembering the specific look on your face. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face, as if only now you'd recognize the capacity of your feelings. You'd been drawn to him before but your inability to give in to him was what was holding you back. But you were ready to let go.

"I don't want it to either..." You look him in the eye and reach out to pull him into you again, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose before continuing. "I want you to have me, I'm done running away from you. Take me, Ridoc." You took his hands that were still nervously tangled in his hair and place them on your waist, a physical way of showing him what you just told him.

"I want you to be sure, sweetness. I don't know if I can hold myself back from you, I can get prettyyy...excited." He grips your waist harder, testing the waters.

"I want you to take charge, Ridoc, I want you to do whatever you want to me, I'm at your mercy," you're all but begging him at this point to just give you everything he's teased to you.

"Fuck..." He groans out, leaning down and burying his face in your neck causing the flesh on your arms to rise at the feeling. He places sloppy kisses there, searching for the spot that will drive you nuts. Once he hears your little moans as he kisses the spot right behind where your jaw and earlobe meet he begins to nip and suck, marking you for everyone to see. "Y'know when I pinned you to that mat, I was about certain you were going to finish right there, sadly I was mistaken. But I learned that you seem to really like being beneath me." Even then he could tell that you were lost in him, and he took this opportunity to put you in the same position he held you in that day.

You lay with your head at the top of the bed, Ridoc's hands pinning your wrists to the pillow behind you, his legs tangled in yours. You moan lightly at the sight above you as he works kisses down your chest and to your cleavage where your shirt cuts off. You try to move your hands to reach down and take off your top, but his grip on your wrists is firm. You hear him laugh at your attempt pathetically against your chest, the heat of his breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. You whine at the loss of your ability to move, your body on fire for him to touch you more, but he keeps lingering with his hot lips all over your neck and chest.

"What? Want more?" He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes glazed over and lips swollen. He looked utterly sinful.

"Please..." you beg, attempting to move your arms again to see if his grip has loosened.

"I think that's the first time you've ever used that word with me," he ignores your plea and licks down your chest, his teeth nipping the edge of your top, pulling it down slightly.

"Ridoc, please, you said you wouldn't tease!" your voice raises slightly a sliver of shame entering your body with how you were begging him.

"Well that wouldn't be as much fun," he states but removes his hands anyway and moves them to the bottom of your top moving it up inch by inch, feeling your warm skin beneath his hands, "you're so fucking hot when you beg for me." his hands reach the bottom of your unbound breasts and his fingers creep up tauntingly. Your now free hands shoot out and reach for him, you sit up your mouth going straight for his, you couldn't get enough of how good he tasted. "Slow down there, princess, mm-wanna take my time," he murmurs through your lips.

"You've made me wait long enough...please just take me," he seems to let go at your words, his hands fully enveloping your breasts and squeezing, a hum sounds from his throat at the feeling. His fingers move to pluck at your hardened peaks, and you move yours to the edges of your top, breaking the kiss to remove it.

"Oh, gods, knew you'd look this good," Ridoc says, his voice just as desperate as you felt. But you waste no time, as soon as your shirt is removed you start pawing at his to take it off. Once it's off you wrap your arms around him mouth moving to his neck to taste him just as he did to you, the feeling of your hot skin together driving you mad. He grunts at the sensation of your mouth on his neck, only giving in momentarily before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he stands up. As soon as he stood he reached for the waistband of his pants and removed his belt in one motion and undoing the button. He takes off his pants quickly, his painfully hard cock bouncing up to hit against his toned stomach. Wow. Ridoc talked a big talk when it came to his dick. You'd always thought it was a part of his jokes, but the evidence was here in front of you and he was not joking.

"Oh gods..." You moan out at the sight, not being able to hold back from sinking to your knees in front of him as he tugged at himself, "Please let me taste you."

"Hmph, not today," He says and reaches down to help you off your knees and shove you back onto the bed, "I'm about to finish just seeing you on your knees, and I want to cum inside you first." His words are filthy and it spurs you on more. You sigh dejectedly, your mouth watering at the sight of his leaking tip, you can't help but reach a hand out to try and feel him, but he slaps your hand away, pushing on the middle of your chest until you're lying flat against the bed. "I said, not today, or don't you want me to taste you first? Don't you think you deserve it? You've been so patient...but I can always take it back and wait till tomorrow to fuck you..."

"No! Please! I'll be good, I'll stay put!" you sit up on your elbows, an acute fear growing in your body at the thought of him leaving you here until tomorrow.

"Hm, that's more like it," Ridoc approves, removing his hand from his cock and to your pants, dragging them and your panties down far too slowly. You do your best to be patient and hold back your whines, you know that it's a test. He kneels in front of the bed and spreads your legs open his calloused fingertips running along the inside of your thighs, drawing up closer to your center. "I really did get you worked up didn't I?" Ridoc remarks before dragging a fingertip through your dripping wet core. You don't hold back your sounds knowing he's about to make you feel incredible.

Ridoc's mouth on your pussy is unlike anything you'd felt, he meant it when he said he knew how to pleasure a woman just as well as a man. Your hands moved and threaded through his mop of hair as he licked and sucked, hardly letting up at all. One of the hands that held your thighs tightly moved to your lower stomach and pressed down to keep you from squirming, a hard grunt coming from his throat in warning. The other hand moved lower and rubbed at your clit in slow motions. It was all too much, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the realization that Ridoc was the one making you feel that good. You were a mess.

The fingers on your clit slipped lower and teased at your entrance a finger slipping in at a slow pace. You whine, trying to buck your hips forward in an attempt for it to go deeper.

"Ah ah, what did I say?" Your whines echo through the room at his words but you comply anyway, stopping your squirming. He makes a noise in approval before continuing his ministrations, adding another finger and pumping them gently, all while switching between long strokes and little licks with his tongue on your clit. Your body convulses when he curls his fingers into a spot that makes you see stars. Ridoc doesn't move fast in this process and doesn't try to bring you to your peak immediately. His strokes are consistent and thoughtful, he notices your reactions to every single one of his movements and plays to them. He's deliberate with his motions and brings you to peak gently, continuing his gestures throughout.

"Please, fuck me now, Ridoc, I don't want to wait," You tug at his hair trying to bring him up to kiss you. But he stays, lapping up your release before pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. Then your stomach. All along your hips. No place is untouched by his lips. "Ridoc!" you beg louder, pulling harder at his hair. His hands grip your waist tighter, fingers digging with a pressure that you were sure to feel tomorrow. But he doesn't stop peppering your body with kisses, ignoring your words. "Baby please..."

"That's enough," he scolds, pulling on your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. He grabs your ass roughly before bringing his other hand down on it in a slap. You squeal at the act but pleasure runs through your core all the same. "You want to be fucked? Hm?" His voice degrading. "Let's see how you handle it then." He says before slapping his hand on your ass again and plunging into you in succession.

"Fuck!" your voice pitches at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Yeah? You begged for it, princess. Now take it," Ridoc's voice was rough and demanding, the sound of it made your mind reel. You let your body and mind give in to the feeling. The sound of his hips slapping your ass and the feeling of his balls hitting your clit with the angle made your head go foggy. All it was was you and Ridoc. Your bodies were one as he pounded into you. He fucked you hard, a contrast from just minutes ago when he was gently licking into your cunt, and you couldn't get enough of it.

You lean back and face Ridoc, watching the fucked out look on his face took you to a new level. You reached back to grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours. You needed him everywhere. "Please," you risk your words, "I want to look at you." His controlling guise fell for a moment as he gave in to your plea.

"Alright, sweetness" he listens, pulling out momentarily to turn you onto your front before plunging back into you. Moans tumble out of your mouth as you revel in the new angle, his cock pushing deeper into you. His head falls to the crook of your neck and he presses sloppy kisses all along you. You grasp at his face, needing to feel his lips on yours as you feel the resistance at your core pulling tighter. Your sounds get louder as you get closer and Ridoc's hand reaches down to play with your clit. "That's it, you're taking me so well." He groans out, his face turning up in pleasure. He was just as close as you were. It reaches you faster than it did the first time, the orgasm peaking quickly and hard. Ridoc fucks you through it, his thrusts growing sloppier as he gets closer. He looks at you with a questioning gaze.

"Fill me up, Ridoc, please," you answer his unasked question, knowing you were both on the fertility supplement that Basgiath provided. That was all the permission he needed before he thrust a few more times and spilled inside of you. The warm feeling almost brings you to finish a third time. His head falls to your chest as he breathes deeply, trying to catch his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to the top of his head, a smile gently growing on your face.

He catches his breath for another moment before pulling out and standing. He picked through his clothes on the ground and slipped on his boxers and loose pants.

"Are you leaving?" you as suddenly, your voice tinged with fear. You sit up and try to cover yourself with your hands. Ridoc stands up straight, his long-sleeved shirt in hand.

"No, princess, don't worry," He smiles and hands you his shirt to put on before taking a tissue from your desk and moving closer to you. He gently pushes you to lay back again and brings the tissue to clean between your thighs. A soft gasp escapes you from the sensitivity, "Shh, sh, it's okay." Ridoc's voice was so soft, so thoughtful. Your heart melted as you thought of his earlier comments. He's liked you for so long now, more than he should in his words. You let him finish cleaning you and lay back in your bed, finding the covers and crawling under them, holding out the edge for Ridoc to come under as he walks back from turning off the light.

The moonlight that shined through the window barely illuminated your room as you lay next to Ridoc, he lay against your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. You rest your head atop his as your fingers trace the relic that Aotrom left him on the top of his muscular arm. He buries his head deeper into you before speaking.

"I don't think Cairis will be very happy about this," You laugh at his comment but know it's true, you let your shields down just slightly letting her presence flow through you.

"I'm not," her voice deadpan and sharp. Well, you can deal with it later.

"She'll get over it," You respond, letting your eye drift closed.

"Maybe, she'll learn from you and let Aotrom in," Ridoc thinks aloud, "He's very convinced that she's his mate and that she's going to give in soon enough. You did with me..." You smile, thinking of your dragons and the similarities you all share. You'd noticed it before, everyone had. Maybe it was just a matter of time before Cairis would give into Aotrom's relentlessness. You sort of hoped that she would if her feelings were anything like yours.

"Don't get your hopes up..." Cairis enters your head again, clearly annoyed.

You woke the next morning far too late, the early morning sun was shining through your window. Fuck. Your math exam. You sit up out of your bed quickly, noticing that Ridoc had already gone and you briefly remember him kissing you on the forehead before he left for his early watch duty before classes. You smile to yourself at the memories of last night, but only give yourself a second before rushing up and gathering all of your things for class and running straight there, knowing you'd already missed breakfast.

At least the math exam was first thing this morning so you could get it over with, but unfortunately, you were most definitely failing after not studying last night. The class was about to start as you entered and Violet waved a hand over to where she and the rest of the first years of your squad were sitting. Ridoc smirks at you and scoots over to make room for you. Your friends could tell by your panicked look that something was off.

"You okay?" Rhiannon asks from the other side of Ridoc.

"Yeah, you look tired. How was studying last night?" Sawyer says, turning from his seat in front of you to join the conversation, his nose only healed and not mended telling from the bruises. Before you had the chance to respond Ridoc interjects.

"We uh...didn't get much studying done last night if you know what I mean," he swings his arm over your shoulder and draws you close, planting a kiss on your cheek. You push him away out of annoyance.

"Ridoc!" you chide. "We didn't even talk about if we were going to tell anyone!" you say lower talking only to him.

"What the fuck?!" Rhi shouts, gaining the attention of the rest of the class before grimacing and quieting down.

"They were gonna find out sooner or later, princess, I can't keep my fucking hands off you," he explains, diving in again and pressing another kiss to your neck this time. Shivers run down your spine at the feeling before you remember where you are and push him off of you again.

"What happened?" Violet asks leaning in on the other side of you, Ridoc's hand now moving to grab at your thigh, she looks away in disgust at the sight, "Never mind, I don't want to know..." she fakes a gag, and Rhi and Sawyer look to each other with a mass of confusion before breaking out in laughter.

"They fucked, obviously," Liam says casually from the other side of Violet where he's working on a wood carving.

"Thanks, Liam, like they hadn't gathered that already..." you say sarcastically and bury your head in your hands.

"I'm scarred," Sawyer says, barely able to contain his laughs. You groan in embarrassment as the professor walks in and starts giving directions on the exam. Yep. You were failing. Ridoc caught the worry in your face and he leaned into you.

"It's okay, princess, you can cheat off me," he winks and leans back away, but leaves his hand on your thigh still, giving it a light squeeze. Shit. It was going to be hard to focus now. 

[lovebugism]

fwb!eddie blurb about how the arrangement started!!! please!!

thank you for requesting!! — the one where you and eddie decide to start screwing around as friends (fwb!eddie, enemies to lovers | 1.4k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

You can feel the gloomy weather in your bones. Rain clouds hang as heavy and grey as your tired head, filled only with thoughts of sleep and longing. The pungent scent of coffee beans floating through Benny’s Burgers does little to wake you as you scribble mindlessly on a notepad. Benny Hammond himself rambles on ahead of you while Nancy interviews him, and you jot down each word without ever really hearing them.

You stop only to yawn into your palm.

Benny laughs. The round belly hidden behind his grease-stained apron trembles with his chuckling. “I ain’t boring y’all, am I?” he jokes and crosses his hairy arms over his chest. 

“No! No, I’m— I’m sorry,” you assure through another, shorter yawn. “I just got, like, zero sleep last night. Not your fault.”

Nancy spares you a glance over her shoulder from where she stands between you. Her doe eyes are ice-cold as they pass up and down your form, glittering with mischief as she hums. “And you’re still wearing the same dress from last night,” she mumbles, as observant as any journalist should be. “Interesting…”

Jonathan’s face burns red at the implication. He looks down at his camera and fidgets with the buttons with anxious hands.

You squint at the back of her. “Don’t slut shame me, Wheeler.”

“Professionalism is an art not easily learned,” she shrugs with a sickly sweet smile. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay, Shakespeare,” you scoff just as a heavy bass thrums through the quiet diner like a heartbeat. 

It’s a muffled rock beat playing from outside that you can hear from where you stand. You think nothing of it until the pretty blonde waitress behind the counter coos, “Is that Eddie Munson’s van?” (Chrissy Cunningham graduated, broke up with her douchebag boyfriend, and developed an itch for the local freak.)

(Your freak.)

Your head snaps over your shoulder in time to catch Eddie hopping out of his rusted tin can of a car — sneakers dirtied and half-tied, leather jacket crooked on his shoulders, wild curls whipping in the wind. 

You realize, then, that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers in a ringed hand. They’re half-withered, wrapped in plastic, and obviously cheap. The pastel petals shed from their stems with each stride towards the diner. It looks like he’s been holding onto them for some days now.

The door dings over his head when he swings it open, sauntering in like he owns the place.

“Those ain’t for me, are they, Munson?” Benny calls to the boy.

“Not this time,” Eddie quips, standing still at the doorway with a too-innocent grin. “These are for Little Miss Sherlock Holmes over there.”

Your heart’s in your throat when he motions to you with the bouquet. Face burning, you turn back to Nancy — who’s hardly someone to be intimidated by but, by all accounts, is still the head editor of the paper you write for. 

The sharp edges of her face harden. “Handle it,” she bites under her breath.

You spin on your heel and rush to the wild-haired boy across the room, stuffing your notepad in your pocket. “Hey, how’s it goin’—” he tries to flirt before you yank him by his leather sleeve. The door dings once more over your heads as you tug him out of the diner, though you hardly hear it over the heartbeat whooshing in your ears.

You pull him towards the edge of the brick building and stop suddenly in place, glaring up at him and fighting the urge to swipe the curl blowing against his cheek. “What are you doing here?” you snap.

“Giving these to you,” he answers obviously.

You huff and take the flowers he holds out for you, trying hard to ignore the sparkling in your chest. “Eddie, I’m working.”

His brows furrow. “At… Benny’s Burgers?”

“Yeah. It’s getting renovated for the first time since his great-granddad opened the place,” you ramble without realizing. “I mean, it’s a pretty big deal— It’s getting front-page coverage and everything.”

“I thought it was just an excuse to eat burgers all day,” Eddie quips with a crooked smile and sheepish eyes. “I mean, that’s what I would’ve done, anyway.”

You don’t realize you’re smiling until you see how big he’s grinning at you. Then you’re frowning in a blink and smacking at his chest with the bouquet. “Don’t make me laugh! I’m mad at you!” you scold.

“Mad?” Eddie echoes, wiping a lone petal from his shoulder. “Why would you be mad?”

“Because you can’t keep showing up wherever I am!” you shout, gesturing wildly with your hands. The plastic wrapped around the flowers crinkles faintly while half-dead petals fall like snow. “People are gonna get suspicious!”

Eddie grows quickly shy. He hadn’t thought that you might be displeased by his spontaneity until now. “I just wanted to surprise you…” he mumbles with a lazy shrug.

“Yeah, but that’s the thing, Eddie. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t! That’s the whole point— I do nice things for you because I want to.”

Your chest warms with a funny feeling. You sigh. 

“Eddie. You don’t need to do nice things for me,” you tell him, speaking slowly so that he might hear you. “You don’t need to because you’re not my boyfriend. Understand?”

He meets your stern, wide-eyed stare with a face swirled faintly with confusion. “No, I don’t understand—”

“We’re not dating, Eddie.”

He flinches at your words. It’d be easier to take a bullet to the chest than break his heart, you think.

“But I thought… I mean, after we…” he stammers and trails off, trying and failing to find the words.

“That was just— That wasn’t anything, you know?” you smile. “It was just fun, right? That’s what we talked about.”

His lips jut in a soft pout. “Well, I thought by fun you meant, ‘oh, that was fun,’ not—” he cuts himself off to gesture between your two bodies, at the aching distance between them. “Not this.”

“It was fun!” you assure him, taking a step closer despite yourself. “It was, Eddie. But that’s all it was. That’s all it needs to be.”

“So it was just a one-time, err— two-time thing?” He tilts his chin to his chest and looks at you with a weary gaze, expecting to get his heart broken. He’s relieved and only slightly confused when you smile.

“Well… No,” you answer sheepishly, shrugging and stepping closer until the cold weather gives way to the warmth between your bodies. You peer up at him through your lashes as your lips curl into a smirk. “We could always do it again, you know, if you wanted. It just… doesn’t have to be so serious.”

“So we screw around… as friends?” The words sound strange spilling from his mouth.

“Exactly!” you beam.

Eddie shakes his wild head at the thought. He doesn’t know if he can hold you and not have you. He worries that might hurt him worse than not having you at all. “I don’t know if I can do that,” he mumbles with his face screwed like he’s tasted something sour.

“Well, have you ever tried?”

“No,” he blurts, half-offended that he’d ever be with anybody but you.

“Then maybe I can teach you how,” you lilt with a feigned innocence.

The smirk Eddie fell for returns. He feels like he’s falling all over again, every time he looks at you. He’s still unsure if he can hold you and not have you — if he can do so without turning into a total trainwreck — but he’d rather have a piece of you than nothing at all.

He swallows hard. His adam’s apple bobs faintly in his throat when he nods. “Sure. Yeah. Okay,” he tells you.

Your heart swells in your throat. Your eyes flit from his face, to his van parked a few spots down, and back to him again. “Wanna go screw around in your van?” you croon quietly.

“I thought you were working?” Eddie teases.

You shrug and reach for his ringed hand. “You’re way more interesting,” you quip and tug him towards the parking lot.

His weathered sneakers stumble off the curb, following you without thinking. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should put me on the front page of the paper instead.”

You roll your eyes in response instead of telling him that you’d never — not because he isn’t pretty enough for it, but because no one else gets to see him in that way. ‘Cause he’s yours, even when he isn’t.

Especially when he isn’t.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

hi :3

this shit is absolutely not proof read sorry

Leon being so attentive when you first start working at the station. The throbbing in his pants almost painful when he watches as somebody walks into the building and you lean over in those slacks, pushing your glasses up as you ask the person to sign their name on the bottom of a document.

Does he ever talk to you? Of course not. You were an angel though, your voice so sweet when you let out a “Goodmorning” everytime he walks through the wide double doors. He was to scared to talk to you because what is he suppose to say? He would stutter surely. Or maybe even accident check you out right in front of you- his last intention is to make you uncomfortable.

How long is it suppose to last though? Watching you glance at him, suddenly going on your break at the same time as him?

Well you couldn’t help yourself. It was rare to see such a young, handsome cop. Rookie or not he definitely had your attention. So you made a plan, but It was failing miserably and he never even glanced at you.

-

It’s pouring rain on friday night, of course It is. Every taxi seems to ignore you, tears of frustration building in your eyes as you wave at another and the water splashes up from the blacktop onto your skirt.

Leon walks out of the station, pulling his hoodie over his head to see you literally soaked and desperately waving down a taxi. It was a rough day for you according to the talk around the office, you spilled all of the coffee for the meeting all over the paperwork in the office room and got the lecture of a lifetime.

Leon walked over to you, clearing his throat as he pointed to his car.

“Let me drive you home, I’m sure you don’t live far.”

The first time hearing his voice and it made your throat feel stuck. Your head nodding as you followed Leon over to his car down the street. What a gentleman, he pulls open the door for you, waiting for your shivering form to slip inside before he shuts the door and gets in himself.

Immediately when starting the car he flips the heater on, looking over at you as he reaches in the backseat and hands you a spare jacket.

“You must be freezing. You didnt see the clouds when you went outside this morning?”

Leon chuckled which made you smile, you needed kindness especially today. The car ride home was Leon just listening to you ramble on and on about how favoritism runs the front office and how you wish you were brave like him to go into the field. You could’ve talked forever but of course you point to your small house, tucking your wet hair behind your ears as you look at Leon, reaching for your purse to pay him of course.

Leon shoves your hand away and shakes his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, he jumps out of his car and runs to your side opening the door for you. You can’t help but blush when he holds his jacket above your head on the way to the door. Thankfully you were so cold and red he definitely didn’t notice. When you get to the door you dig in your bag for your keys, your shaking hands pushing the small key into the handle before you shook the door open, you looked up at Leon and walked inside insisting he came in.

“If you won’t let me pay you, at least let me make you some hot cocoa.”

Leon didn’t mind the wait. You basically begged him to let you make him hot cocoa but you had to shower first. Not even ten minutes passed and you’re walking into your kitchen where he sat at the kitchen table, a slight smile on his face when he sees the slippers you’re wearing, the cute silk pajamas that he so badly just wanted to rub his fingers over.

“Thank you so much, plus you shouldn’t drive home anyways look at It out there.”

You were right but of course you were. It was pouring, the wind knocking the bushes against your window and now lightning striking against the dark sky. Leon just nodded in agreement as you placed one of the cups in front of him. Steam rising to the top as you mixed it for him once more before sitting down across from him.

It was awkward at first, then Leon started to talk about some of things he’s seen on patrol and you’re suddenly cracking up. Both of your mugs empty and your fingers playing with the fabric on his arm as you start to talk about just how stressed you are. It’s obvious in your face, the frustration starting to make you upset as you rub your fingers into your temple.

Leon frowns slightly, his hand by instinct coming up to push the hair from your face. He doesn’t know what happened but he mumbled a quiet.

“Let me help you.”

Extremely bold of him and he was sure you were gonna kick him into the pouring rain. But suddenly he had you laid on the couch, your pajamas on the floor and your legs spread open by his hand while his other hand is three digits deep inside of you. He could tell you needed this so badly, the way your walls squeezed around his fingers. He could watch your face for hours if he was able to, your eyes closed like you’re concentrating on something as he pushes his fingers up in a curling motion, the pads of his fingers brushing against that special spot inside you.

His eyes are hazy when he repositioned himself, laying on his stomach and pushing your legs up as his tongue sloppily laps at your clit, your legs resting against his strong shoulders as his hands slide down to your thighs, massaging them as he looks up at you continuing to lap at your folds as his fingers continue to push in and out of you.

He notices your slight shaking, the quiet whines leaving you as you push at his hands and he can feel the way you flutter around his fingers.

“L-leon-“

Is all you can manage to get out before he’s lapping faster, his face pushing further into you. his fingers slowing down to a softer rhythm as he feels you gush around his fingers, shushing you quietly as you cry out his name, your breath heavy as he pulls himself back up, his lips pressing against yours.

Leon pulls himself away, being careful when he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the side of your face as he does so.

“It’s okay, nobody at the station has to know.”

Leon smirks as he kisses the side of your mouth and pulls you up to lay against his chest.

[ameliathornromance]

"I don't know if this is a good idea." Your Orc Boyfriend told you.

"This place is fine!" You smiled at him. Gripped onto his hand, you pointed to the door of the Inn. "I already told you that they're welcoming to everyone. You'll be fine."

All around you, people stalk by, heads shrouded in cloak hoods and clutched tightly around their necks to stop the downpour of rain.

Your Orc Boyfriend grumbled as a gust of wind sent a chill down both of your spines. He looked over his shoulder, pulling the poorly fitting hood further over his face. He sighed. "Okay, let's get out of the cold then."

Beaming, you pushed open the Inn door. The two of you entered and were instantly hit with warmth. Chatter drowned out the bard who played at the very end of the tavern. But no one spared a glance at the two of you, even as your Orc Boyfriend pulled down his hood.

"Right, let's see if we can get something to eat." You mumbled. You pulled him away from the door, desperate to get further away from the cold draft that had followed you inside.

"(Y/N)? No, that's not you,"

Whipping your head around at the mention of your name, you couldn't stop your grin. "Boor? Is that you?"

"Boor?" Your Orc Boyfriend questioned, but there was no time to give an answer.

A human man, twice the size of a regular man, pushed his way through a crowd of Goblins to you. "It's been so long my friend!" He grabbed you and lifted you off the floor.

You let go of your Orc Boyfriend's hand and wrapped your arms around Boor.

Once you were let go, your boyfriend instantly pulled you into a protective grip. Hunching over you and crossing an arm over your chest protectively, your Orc Boyfriend shot a glower at the man.

Boor didn't even glance at your boyfriend, instead bending down to you, "are you well my friend?"

Sensing the tension from your partner, you placed your hand on his forearm and squeezed. "I'm good... Boor, I'd like you to meet my partner: (O/N)."

Boor finally acknowledged your boyfriend and gave him a toothy grin. "An Orc?! Amazing! I haven't seen any of you for a few years! I hope you and your kind are keeping well!"

Your Orc Boyfriend seemingly relaxed at his recognition and grunted in return. "We are well."

"Come, allow me to buy you drinks, we must catch up!"

"Actually," Your Orc cut off. "We should get a room."

"(O/N)'s right, sorry Boor." You smiled apologetically. "Maybe later, we're both freezing from travelling."

"Ah, if you must." Boor sighed, "I will see you later my friends!"

When you and your partner had been settled in a room, you both collapsed onto the bed. A fire crackled in the corner of the room, punctuating the silence.

"Who is this 'Boor' man?" Your Orc Boyfriend asked.

"Boor's a good friend of mine." You explained, "he's part man, part giant. Super friendly and kind, but not very good at reading other people." You snorted, "one time, we nearly got caught in a Drider's web because Boor said he promised to feed us. Little did we know, he was actually trying to fatten us up to eat."

"Sounds like a shit travelling companion." Your partner grumbled.

"He meant well." You rolled your eyes and smiled. Both of you returned to silence for a moment. "...Were you jealous?"

"No." Your Orc Boyfriend said too quickly. He rolled over, back facing towards you.

You could barely suppress a grin from coming over you. "You have nothing to be jealous of, I only have eyes for you." Placing a hand on his bicep, you leaned your head against the square of his back.

"..." Your partner didn't respond for a moment. Then he rolled over and scooped you up in his arms and squeezed you tightly. "Good. If it weren't for the Inn full of people, I would have beat him to death for even touching you."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed him tightly. "I'm glad you didn't. Otherwise we'd be camping outside again and I don't think that you would want to do that."

"It would be worth it if it meant protecting my partner."

Patreon

[shrenvents]

hihi!!

i loved ur dean blurb and i was wondering if you could do a similar one, but for sam?? and possibly make them enemies to lovers type beat

you're such a good writer too btw :))

a/n: tysm for the support!! ofc I gotta follow up with some sam content, enjoy🫦

Hungry Eyes

Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, side-wind, unprotected, m!receiving, overstimulation, language, some angst, size-kink

Pairing: Sam Winchester x you

Summary: You're a hunter, familiar with Sam and Dean's work —and that wasn't a good thing. So, it took no time at all for you to bump heads with the youngest brother, though it becomes difficult to ignore the underlying attraction there.

Word Count: 2k

...

You crouched low behind the thick underbrush, breathing steadily as you surveyed the clearing ahead. The late afternoon sun painted the scene in golden hues, illuminating the blurry figures of two men, struggling against a group of snarling demons. Your heart raced—not from fear, but from that familiar adrenaline. You had been trained for this, to hunt the monsters that lurked in the shadows, and protect those in need.

Just as you braced yourself for a fight, unexpectedly, you recognized one of them. Sam Winchester... The hunter who had opened the gates of Hell, fed on demon blood, and dismantled every hunter's code in a hungry pursuit for power. He and his companion matched their descriptions spot on, and a swell of anger surged within you, merging with the adrenaline.

The Winchesters were the last people you wanted to help, rumoured as selfish and pathetic, yet there they were, fighting valiantly to save a young girl caught in a demon’s grasp.

Against your better judgment, you emerged from your hiding spot. You rushed into the fray, taking down one demon with a swift slice of your charmed blade. It felt surreal; to combat alongside a man you despised by name. As you worked together, you couldn’t deny the rhythm that formed between you, each of you covering the other’s blind spots.

When the last demon fell, silence enveloped the clearing. You stood panting, blood pumping violently through your veins. You then narrowed your gaze onto Sam and an unfamiliar warmth bloomed in your chest. He was dishevelled and dirty, but even covered in grime, you could see the strength in his handsome features. 

But that warmth twisted into disdain as you recalled why you hated him. “You’re lucky I don’t bleed you out myself Winchester,” you spit hostility, using your sleeve to wipe your blade clean as you turned away. You felt his heated stare bore into your back. It was a mix of confusion and something deeper, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it. 

“Right,” he snapped rather sarcastically, voice low, clearly stung. “Thanks for the help, I guess," he uttered, followed by a mumble of, "Whoever you are."

You rolled your eyes. His wounded pride brought you a sense of satisfaction. You liked not having bothered with the usual pleasantries between fellow hunters, or even an introduction. However, you couldn't shake how painfully aware you were of how attractive he looked. Your mind warred with your heart, anger battling lure.

Months passed since then, and fate had an unsettling way of pulling you deeper into the web of chaos that surrounded the Winchesters. One evening, on a cool January night, after a particularly gruelling encounter with a demon, you found yourself in the same motel room as Sam. You both got soaked by an abrupt tidal of rain, and though you changed into some of the boy's spare clothes, Sam made no effort to switch out of his drenched attire.

He sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, head in his hands. A heavy, uncomfortable silence filled the air, dense with the weight of loss and failure. Another causality was had, and it seemed to affect Sam in a different way than you and his brother, who have grown disturbingly desensitized to death.

You observed Sam, and something inside you softened as you recalled the stories you’d heard—how he had lost so much, which later led to all the Hellfire and bloodshed. The vexation you carried for him began to fade, replaced by a deep-seated empathy. Your instincts kicked in, and without thinking, you approached him.

“Sam?” You called softly. He didn’t respond, the shadows of despair looming over him like a shroud. Disturbed by his silence, you knelt beside him, uncertain yet compelled to bridge the gap between you two. With a tentative hand, you rested it lightly on his back, which tensed, muscles tautening under your cool touch.

When he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy, filled with unshed tears, though they held you with such an acute regard. Without a word, you sat down beside him, the side of your thigh flush against his when you embraced him. It was an impulsive act, a comfort that transcended what defined your strange relationship. Surprisingly, he melted into you, his body shaking with silent sobs. He clearly was desperate for someone to lean on, especially with his brother still outside tracking the monster that attacked you all. 

Minutes passed in that quiet cocoon of shared grief before he pulled back and peered down at you with a vulnerability so scalding, that you nearly shied away. His gaze was disarming and it had a glint of something you had only seen momentarily, on the day you met.

Then his eyes darkened, demeanour shifting. You inhaled sharply and held that breath. The warmth of his presence, so close, burned your skin like a fever —and then he kissed you. The world stilled and the only sensation you felt was the soft, tentative flesh pressing against your lips. It was more of a question rather than a demand; It was gentle —just like you'd grown to understand Sam was.

After a second of hesitance, you shoved his buff chest away with both hands. “No,” you spoke firmly, heart stuttering. “You’re just… you need comfort right now. This isn’t fair," you expressed, though you were unsure of who it was 'unfair' to.

Sam's brows furrowed, daze soon morphing into frustration. “You think I’m just looking for comfort?” He asked before sighing your name, his voice hoarse, thick with disbelief and pure frustration. You shuddered at the depths of his tone. “I want you. I'm tired of pretending that I don’t.”

His words hung in the air, laden with a truth that veered your perspective entirely. The walls you had built began to crumble, and all the reasons you had for hating him felt hollow. You couldn't even look into his puppy-dog eyes, as they surveyed every emotion that flickered across your face.

“Sam,” you whispered, grappling with the surge of feelings you had been filing away, that was now threatening to overwhelm you. “I—”

But he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, leaving no room for doubt. This time, you didn’t retract into yourself. Instead, you thawed against him, eagerly allowing his larger frame to envelop yours.

The kiss grew frantic and you clawed at his thin, wet shirt as you wrapped around him. He then threw you onto his lap so you straddled his stocky thighs. Sam groaned into your mouth and you swallowed it with a pleasant hum. He cupped your head and pulled you deeper into his pressing kiss as if time were against you both.

Your hands roamed down his spine, keen to remove his clothes. You reached the hem of his shirt and lifted it. Sam instantly convulsed against your body and gasped away from your mouth. He let go of you, hands hovering beside your face as he paused, lost in a trance. Suddenly, his stupor cut short and he swiftly refocused on your body, eyes tracing your torso. He gulped before flipping you both. You land on your back, bouncing slightly on the mattress, releasing a yelp of surprise before Sam kneeled above you, mouth agape as he tore off his shirt, throwing it across the room. He then lowered his face to yours, frantic to taste your mouth again. You whimpered when his cold hands moved under your shirt and unclipped your bra.

After he worked off most of your clothes, leaving you in just your undergarments, your hands zipped to his belt, unbuckling it. He grunted before he began an assault on your neck, sucking it, likely leaving numerous hickeys in his wake. “Sam,” you whined, weaving your fingers into his silky hair. “Sam, I need more,” you whined some more, losing the strength in your body while he caged you in, holding you firm against him.

“More?” He questioned, mouth releasing your skin to peer up at you. His dilated pupils surveyed you, brow arching. “Yes,” you whispered airily. Biting your lip, your gaze darted to his undone buckle, hoping he would finish the job. Understanding your wordless request, he rose to tear off the rest of his clothes. You suck in a terse breath at the sight of his naked body, wetting your lips. He was big in every way and you were desperate to feel his weight atop you again.

“Come here,” you whispered seductively, stretching your arms out to him. He promptly accepted your embrace and dropped down to your level. You both sighed into one another, recognizing that this was what you both needed all along. “Jesus, how long have I been waiting for you?” He asked, murmuring to himself. Before you got the chance to respond, the head of his cock pressed against your clit, slowly sliding to your entrance.

You held eye contact with Sam, mouth wide open as he pushed into you, bottoming out in one motion. The air fled your lungs in a single exhale and you're left gasping for breath. You felt Sam watching, observing your bare chest as it rose and fell before kissing you hungrily. His tongue slipped into your mouth, memorizing every square inch.

You moaned loudly when he finally moved. It didn’t take long for him to build up a rhythm. Suddenly, he disregarded that tempo and pulled away from your kiss to straighten up. He then took one of your thighs and threw it over top of your other leg, positioning you on your side. His palms cupped your hip and you groaned at the change-up.

Sam eyed you, visibly pleased by the new angle. He then started pounding, roughly ramming into you, skin smacking against your lower half. The collision was loud and the room was crowded by your sobs and Sam’s grunts.

When you reached your gut-churning orgasm, clenching around him, he hoisted up the leg he had flipped, tossing it over his shoulder, gaining more access to you. You shouted and whimpered but he didn’t relent, letting out a week's worth of frustration, toward you, and the universe. He growled your name once, and with that, he carelessly came inside you.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, head tilting down in pure exhaustion. Your eyes fluttered shut as his warmth filled your core, making your body quake. Then he removed his hefty build from your limp one, rising to fall back down to your side. Sam hissed as he left your center, huffing as he dropped onto the soft cushion.

You watched him as he took the time to catch his breath, eyes closed. He was so vulnerable in front of a woman who had threatened him, several times, and it was an alarming sight. To have Sam simply breathe you in, and take you savagely, as if you were his first meal in decades.

Your mouth practically watered at the view of him after sex, tousled hair and sweat glistening across his forehead. Biting your inner cheek, your hands slowly glided towards Sam’s cock. His eyes shot open —wild and stunned— before they squeezed shut again when you applied pressure. You fisted his length, stroking him till you felt cum leak from his tip.

You rubbed him a few times, listening intently to every breath and groan that left his throat. It didn’t take long for him to cum a second time. He just about whimpered your name, weak to your touch, liquefying further into the bed. His hands quickly gripped your wrists when you continued to stroke him even after his orgasm. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, almost in exasperation, though you knew that was his usual play with sarcasm.

“You're killing me here,” he murmured breathlessly, to which you grinned smugly, whispering into his ear, “Don’t tempt me Winchester.”

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

STORMY NIGHT-RAFE CAMERON

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Rafe takes shelter in a remote cabin during a storm and unexpectedly finds it already occupied by you. Trapped together for the night, tensions run high as the storm outside mirrors the turmoil in Rafe's soul, leading to a surprising confession that changes everything.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The storm hit fast and hard, catching you off guard as you trekked the wooded path toward the safety of your family’s cabin. By the time you reached the door, rain had soaked through every layer of clothing, and the wind whipped against your skin like icy knives. With trembling hands, you fumbled for the spare key hidden under the loose floorboard of the porch.

Finally inside, you kicked off your boots, lit a few candles, and settled into the silence, broken only by the rumble of thunder. The storm would pass by morning, and for now, the isolation was comforting.

Until you heard the door slam.

Heart pounding, you reached for the fireplace poker and crept toward the sound. The faint flicker of candlelight cast shadows along the walls, playing tricks on your mind. Then you saw him, soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes wild and frantic.

"Rafe?" you whispered, lowering the poker but keeping your grip tight. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He leaned against the doorframe, panting. "I didn’t know anyone was here." His voice was raspy, tinged with exhaustion. "Car broke down a mile back. Storm...it’s bad."

You hesitated, every instinct screaming to send him back into the rain. But something in his expression stopped you, an edge of vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. With a sigh, you stepped aside. "Fine. But don’t try anything."

Rafe snorted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah, sure. Like I’d risk it." He peeled off his dripping jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair.

The two of you fell into an uneasy silence. Rafe hovered near the window, staring out into the storm as if he could will it away. You busied yourself making tea, anything to fill the oppressive quiet.

"You’ve got a nice setup here," he said finally, his voice softer than you expected. "Better than being stuck in the middle of nowhere."

"Why were you out here anyway?" you asked, handing him a steaming mug. "Doesn’t seem like your scene."

Rafe took the tea but didn’t drink it. Instead, he stared into the cup like it held all the answers to his problems. "Needed to clear my head," he said. "Things have been...complicated."

You raised an eyebrow. "Complicated? That’s one way to put it."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back with one of his usual arrogant retorts. But when he spoke, his voice was raw. "You think I don’t know what people say about me? What they think? They don’t get it. None of them do."

You frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. "Then tell me. What don’t they get?"

Rafe laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me anyway."

"Try me," you challenged, stepping closer.

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his blue eyes glassy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. For the first time, the cocky mask slipped away, leaving behind someone who looked lost.

"I’ve messed up," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "More times than I can count. But it’s not like I woke up one day and decided to be this way. Do you know what it’s like to never be enough? For your dad, your family, anyone? I tried, but it was never enough."

The words hung heavy in the air, the storm outside a distant roar compared to the storm raging within him. You didn’t know what to say, what could you say? Rafe Cameron, of all people, standing here, pouring his heart out like this.

"You don’t have to keep being that person," you said quietly. "The one everyone expects you to be."

Rafe’s lips twisted into a sad smile. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe," you agreed. "But you’re here now. That means something, doesn’t it?"

He didn’t answer, just stared at you with an intensity that made your chest ache. The storm outside raged on, but in that moment, it felt like the world had stopped. For once, Rafe wasn’t the brash, reckless guy you thought you knew. He was just a boy, broken and trying to piece himself back together.

And maybe, just maybe, you could help.

The silence between you stretched on, filled only by the sound of rain pelting against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder. You weren’t sure what to say next, but there was something in Rafe’s expression, something fragile, as if one wrong word could shatter whatever tenuous thread of trust had formed between you.

“Why did you really come out here, Rafe?” you asked softly, leaning against the edge of the table. “Don’t tell me it was just to clear your head.”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the mug. For a moment, it looked like he might retreat back into his usual defensive shell, but then he sighed, the weight of it seeming to deflate him entirely.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible over the storm. “Everything’s falling apart. My dad’s on my case, the Pogues are stirring up trouble again, and…I don’t know. It feels like I’m suffocating.”

His words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. You wanted to hate him for everything he’d done, for the chaos he always seemed to bring with him, but it was hard to ignore the pain etched into his features. He wasn’t just some reckless rich kid causing problems for fun. He was struggling, drowning in the weight of expectations, guilt, and whatever demons haunted him.

“I know I’m a mess,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I know everyone sees me as some psycho who screws everything up. And maybe they’re right. But…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

You crossed your arms, frowning. “You keep saying that. Like you’re the only person in the world who’s ever felt this way.”

Rafe’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “And what would you know about it?”

“More than you think,” you shot back, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever felt like they can’t measure up? Like no matter what you do, it’s never enough? Newsflash, Rafe, you’re not special. Everyone’s got their own crap to deal with. Yours just comes with a trust fund.”

He flinched, but instead of lashing out, he laughed, a low, humorless sound. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m just telling you the truth,” you said, softening your tone. “You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a mix of skepticism and something else, something that looked a lot like hope. He set the mug down and ran a hand through his damp hair, his movements slow and deliberate.

“You really believe that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I do,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got to start believing it, too. You can’t keep running from everything, Rafe. Not forever.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. “Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, his voice so quiet you almost missed it.

The tension in the room seemed to ease, the air between you less charged. Rafe leaned back against the wall, his eyes drifting toward the window where the rain continued to pour. For the first time since he’d walked through the door, he looked calm. Or at least as calm as someone like Rafe Cameron could be.

“Thanks,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. It wasn’t much, but the sincerity in his tone made it feel significant.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Anytime.”

The storm outside raged on, but inside the cabin, it felt like the beginning of something different, a truce, maybe. Or a fragile connection that neither of you fully understood yet. Whatever it was, you had a feeling it wasn’t the end of the story.

The storm continued to batter the cabin, but the tension between you and Rafe had softened, replaced by a quiet, unspoken understanding.

Rafe moved to sit on the worn couch, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was finally starting to lift. You sat across from him in the armchair, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face. He looked different in this light, more human, more vulnerable.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, breaking the silence.

He glanced up, his blue eyes cautious but curious. “Sure. Why not?”

“What’s the real reason you feel like you’re not enough? Is it just your dad, or is there more to it?”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You really want to dig into my screwed up psyche, huh?”

“I’m just trying to understand,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I think you want to. Even if it’s just to get it off your chest.”

He stared at the floor for a long moment, the candlelight reflecting off the strands of damp hair clinging to his forehead. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and filled with a quiet intensity.

“It’s not just my dad,” he admitted. “But he’s a big part of it. Ward Cameron’s golden boy, right? Supposed to have it all figured out, supposed to carry on the family legacy. But no matter what I do, it’s never enough. He always finds something to criticize. Something to pick apart.”

He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. “And then there’s Sarah. Everyone loves Sarah. She’s perfect, isn’t she? The golden child, the one who can do no wrong. Meanwhile, I’m the screw up. The one who ruins everything. People don’t even bother to look past the surface, they just see the crazy, entitled Cameron kid who’s too far gone to save.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I really am just broken.”

“Stop,” you said firmly, leaning forward in your chair. “You’re not broken, Rafe. You’ve made mistakes, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re beyond saving. It doesn’t mean you can’t change.”

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with something raw and desperate. “And what if I can’t? What if this is all I’ll ever be?”

“You’re the only one who can decide that,” you said, holding his gaze. “But you’ve got to start by letting yourself believe that you’re worth more than what other people think of you. Your dad, the Pogues, anyone. They don’t get to define you, Rafe. Only you do.”

For a moment, you thought he might argue, but then he nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You really think I can do it? That I can be better?”

“I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t,” you replied with a small smile. “It’s not going to be easy, but yeah, I think you can. You just have to want it.”

Rafe leaned back against the couch, his expression contemplative. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Maybe I’ve been wanting it for a long time.”

The rain outside began to taper off, the storm losing its ferocity. The quiet that followed felt almost surreal, as if the world had been reset. You glanced at the window, noting the faint hint of dawn beginning to break through the clouds.

“It’s almost morning,” you said, your voice soft. “The storm’s letting up.”

Rafe followed your gaze, his lips curving into a faint, almost shy smile. “Yeah. Guess it is.”

For the first time, you saw a glimmer of something in him that you hadn’t before, hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there. And as the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new for both of you.

[kooktrash]

romantic dreams | jeon jungkook

drabble: motorbikes, bars and head [standalone]

summary: you’re not going to lie and say you’re fully over what happened but you’re tired of fighting it. you’re too worried for his well-being to leave him yet and you find yourself constantly enabling him with your soft words and telling him what he wants to hear. or in this case showing him you’re all his and you’ll never change that. [2.9k words. smut at the end. jk gets a bj. he gives oc a ride on his motorcycle]

His touch was tender, his fingers lightly grazing your ankles as he held you in place. The motorcycle tilted to one side as it rested at the red light and you had to hold onto him a little tighter.

Your boyfriend gave you a reassuring pat on your thigh as he drove off with the green light and you sucked in a breath. It was wet, rain bounced off of your helmet and covered your vision, the wind was cold and you did nothing but hold onto Jungkook.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asked once you two were finally off the bike, “Sorry, baby, it didn’t say anything about rain tonight.”

You didn’t give him much of a response as your teeth clattered and headed toward the restaurant bar the two of you stopped at. It wasn’t even where you were supposed to go but the rain was heavy and Jungkook knew you didn’t feel comfortable so the two of you were just going to wait it out.

The restaurant was surprisingly loud with a nightlife atmosphere inside. It was dimly lit and young couples and friends lounged around snacking and drinking. It was hard to even find a table without being squished against the next table. He left you to go find something to order you two and you sat alone at the squared table trying to wipe away any puddles of rain that haven’t soaked into the fabric of your jacket yet.

It’s been exactly one since Jungkook’s meltdown and you haven’t told anyone about it. The next day he acted totally normal and in a good mood and though you tried to bring it up you thought about what it would be like if he acted that way again. He seemed to be okay now… and he even got rid of the cameras but…

Was it enough? No, but he scared you still sometimes.

You looked at him as he stood in line at the bar. He was in his usual leather black jacket and black tea. His hair was a bit shorter than last time but it was still long enough to look wavy. There were two girls standing behind him probably in their mid twenties and by the looks of it, they were already a little tipsy. They looked at Jungkook’s back before huddling closed and giggling. At one point Jungkook turned to you and gave you a cute smile before casually looking down at them.

“Excuse me, are you using the chair?”

Just like that, your attention was pulled away to the person in front of you. He was tall, light brown hair and gentle eyes. His hand rested on the top of the third chair at your table and he pointed to the table behind you, “We ran out and I was gonna ask if I can take this one.”

You gave him a soft smile, “Go ahead.”

He smiled back widely, “Thanks, sorry if we’re too loud, they’re drunk.”

“Don’t worry, I get it,” you said looking down to your phone to end the interaction but he just nodded.

“It started raining out of nowhere right?” Your smile slowly fell, he’s not leaving yet.

“Who’s next?”

Jungkook was frozen in his spot even as the line behind him grew longer. He was too focused on your soft smile as you talked with some guy. He’s been in line for a couple minutes now trying to think of what to order for you while you’re off talking to some other guy. How was he supposed to feel about this?

“Sir—“ Jungkook looked down at the two women behind him. They had rosy cheeks and glossy lips and looked at him like he was something special. Without sparing them a second glance he finally went to the counter and got his wallet out. His movements were smooth and mechanical, even his tone of voice sounded strained yet gently and he ordered your food normally.

You smiled at the guy warily as you glanced at Jungkook just in time to catch the way he handed the cashier the money and took his receipt with him, turning to your table. You cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to find a way to get this guy to leave, “But yes, if you need the chair go ahead and take it, I wouldn’t mind.”

“What wouldn’t you mind?” Jungkook stood behind the guy now as he had a hold on the chair. He turned around surprised, “I was wondering if you were using the chair?”

“So why are you still here? Take it already and fucking leave,” Jungkook grumbled as he sat down across from you watching the guy closely as he looked back to you, “Alright thanks.”

You gave him an apologetic smile watching him leave while Jungkook watched you.

“Is he cute?”

“Is who?”

“That guy,” Jungkook said as you took a sip from your drink, “You look pretty sad to see him go. Your conversation must’ve been really good.”

You released a small sigh, deciding to change the subject, “Did they say how long the wait is?”

“I didn’t ask,” Jungkook said. He watched you play with the wrapper of your straw, “Why are you so pretty?”

You raised a brow at him unable to fight the urge to blush, he still had a strong effect on you after all. Your eyes met and his seemed to soften once more, making you reach across the small table and take his hand in yours. You decided to tease him a little, “Why are you?”

Once the rain had stopped and you finished your meals, you were back outside in the dark night letting Jungkook help you with your helmet. The shield was still up and he was strapped it together under your chin but he stopped for a moment to look at you. You didn’t move or even smile as he said, “I love you.”

“You too,” you smiled softly as he leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“Do you?”

The bell above the door to the restaurant chimed as the group of guys who sat one table over from you came out laughing and drunk. The one who asked for a chair caught your attention but only because he was watching you two. Jungkook followed your line of sight and turned, unimpressed and with a clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to stare at the guy, he wasn’t your type and you obviously weren’t thinking about him but Jungkook didn’t know that.

He acts fine after his meltdown but you can tell by the way he stares at you that he’s waiting for you to try and leave him again so he could react. If it was up to him you would never be out of his sight. He doesn’t have a temper with you but you’ve definitely noticed a temper with other people lately. You’re not sure if he purposely didn’t show you it before but he really has no patience for anyone else and sure that does reassure you a bit to know he doesn’t give another woman the time of day… but it also means he has a short temper when it’s comes to guys who approach you. They don’t even have to be hitting on you for Jungkook to intervene like you’ve done something to piss him off. All you did was look at the other guy and Jungkook turned ready to start something with him. You tugged are his helmet to get him to look back at you but you could see the way his tongue poked against his cheek and his eyes tried to shift to the side to watch the guy as he and his friends took a smoke break outside.

You’re not sure if it was because they seemed drunk or because the guy was ticked off by the way Jungkook told him to leave but you heard the guy from earlier yell, “Your boyfriend’s got a nice ride but I bet mine’s more impressive!”

His group of friends laughed but your attention was on Jungkook whose gaze had hardened. You shook your head, “Let’s g—“

“I could give you a ride, babe—or better yet you can give me a good ri—“

“What’d you say?” Jungkook was never focused on you as he turned to the guy. The rain had stopped but it still smelled of wet earth and there were puddles of water that reflected the light sign of the restaurant as people still dined inside. The guy was with about five friends and they were all laughing at their friend’s obviously inappropriate catcalls just to rile Jungkook up and it was working.

You had to think fast to get his attention back on you, “Baby, let it go, let’s just go.”

“What? Did I say something wrong?” The guy scoffed with a smirk, “You think you’re hot shit acting hard in front of your girl?”

Jungkook chuckled, as he pulled away from your grasp on his jacket and began taking his helmet off, “Why don’t you leave your friends and come say it to my face cause I can’t hear you.”

You took a deep breath, “Jungkook, come on he’s drunk, he’s trying to rile you up.” There were also six of them and one of him, you don’t doubt Jungkook can’t stick up for himself — he’s a boxer for christ's sake — but he’s out unnerved and these guys just want to start trouble.

The guy’s smile disappeared, “You don’t want a problem with me.“

“Wanna bet?” Jungkook had an amused smile on his face, “You wanna try and hit on my girl to disrespect us both? Yeah, I do want a problem with you so like I said, stop hiding behind your friends and come say it to my face.”

Your boyfriend began walking their way, not intimidated at all by the amount of them and that’s what worried you. Jungkook doesn’t care how many he’s against.

“Jungk—“

“Hey! No loitering outside the restaurant, take your problems somewhere else!” A worker came out just as Jungkook got closer to the group. You took this as your chance to pull Jungkook away, and although reluctant he followed you.

You got back on the bike and just before Jungkook took off, he swerved the bike into a puddle and splashed the guys with water, driving off as they shouted at him.

When you got back to your buildings, you had to follow him into his. He seemed annoyed and you rather not have him mad at you or anyone for that matter. He always acted strange when he was mad.

“Are you upset with me?” You asked as Jungkook threw off his jacket and helmet almost aggressively. He wouldn’t even look at you.

“No.”

“Oh,” you took your jacket off as you watched him go to the fridge for a drink before walking over to his living room straight to his record player. He flipped over his Deftone’s ‘White Pony’ vinyl and let the first song to pop up play before going to sit on the couch to be on his phone. “You sure?”

“Yes, baby, I’m sure,” Jungkook said with a firm jaw, “But I tell you all the time to stop entertaining these loser guys.”

“I’m not.”

“Well it sure fucking feels that way when you’re giving them all these sweet little smiles,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “You make them think that they can take you away from me, like I’d let that fucking happen.”

You released a sigh as you moved in front of him, down on your knees so he wouldn’t be able to look away. He made room for you between his legs as he met your soft eyes with his, “Nobody is taking me away from you.”

“How do I know that?” Jungkook asked with a tilt of his head. You bit your lip nervously.

“Because I love you.”

He wasn’t looking at you, his attention was off in space and you can only imagine all the crazy things he might be thinking. You put your hands on his thighs, the black denim rough under your fingers. You rested your head on his leg, “Want me to show you?”

His brow raised in curiosity as he looked back at you. Jungkook was strange, he was delusional and possessive and sometimes really scary. You did care a lot about him though and you needed to remind him that you stayed with him—even if it was because he scared you.

He didn’t look away from your eyes as your hands slid up to his jeans, you undid the button, pulling down the zipper and taking note of his bulge even soft. He was resting back on the couch with his legs spread around you and you leaned up to kiss him.

Jungkook’s tongue explored your mouth as he moved up just enough for you to tug his jeans down and groaned into your mouth when you palmed his member, making it harden quickly. Jungkook’s hand wrapped itself around your throat as you pulled away and he looked down at your parted lips, bucking his hips into your hand and suddenly your tongue stuck out a little more. He tilted his head curiously at the way you opened your mouth to him willingly and he smiled, tongue sliding across his lip ring at the sudden thought that ran through his head. He sat up a little more as you sank back down on your knees and before you knew it…

He released a line of drool into your waiting mouth watching it land on your flat tongue and you finally yanked his black briefs down. Jungkook slumped back as your hand took a hold of his member.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped as he watched your combined drool drip onto his tip, immediately reacting to the strange sensation and you didn’t seem to have patience today. You took him in both hands and pointed his cock toward your mouth, tongue running flat against the vein on the underside of his member.

He released a shaky breath, a hand on your hair for support, feelings his balls tighten when you teased his head by running your stiff tongue over his stool as it leaked precum.

His hips began to move seeking more than just the teasing, fingernails digging into your hair trying not to mess it up but hinting at the fact that he wanted more.

Once you had enough of his member covered in spit, you took it into your mouth. He moaned feeling your throat relax around him while your tongue flattened against his side and tried to lick around him. You began to stroke whatever didn’t fit into your mouth as you bobbed your head along his thick length, using his moans to guide you to do what he would like. Everytime your head came up you would take a deep breath through your nose and suck harder around his tip. Jungkook began to move his hips more, meeting your mouth with each thrust to get his cock deeper until you were gagging. He wasn’t even listening to the music in the background, only to the way your throat gurgled with the way he fucked your mouth. When it became too much you lifted your mouth off him, panting out of breath as you licked up any excess drool or precum from around your mouth. His dick was stiff in your hand and you couldn’t help but hold it against your cheek, giving it a small smack, “I love you.”

His dick twitched in your hole as his head lolled back and with him not paying attention, you surprised him by angling it up and moving your tongue to lick between his testicles and up his length. Jungkook released a loud groan as his eyes squeezed shut when you lightly nipped at the loose skin around his balls before sucking one into your mouth just the way he liked, hand pumping up and down his cock, feeling the way it throbbed stiffly shooting out a little precum. He was out of breath, moaning, "Aish, baby, just like that.”

You did it a couple more times before going back up to take him in your mouth and he placed a hand behind your head when you tried to come, “A little more, I’m almost there.”

Your other hand was on his thigh for support as it got harder to breathe and your throat tightened around him. You had taken him all the way to his base, your nose brushing against his smooth and clean pelvis and all he needed was one final thrust into your mouth before he was cumming.

Jungkook was loud, head thrown back, eyes rolled, lips parted breathlessly moaning your name and when he moved his hand back you nearly coughed as you came up for air. He barely gave you time to cool down before he was lifting you onto his lap with ease and forcing your jaw open with a kiss. You kissed back with need, unable to deny the fact that he turned you on so fucking much.

“I love you,” he moaned against your lips.

“I love you too.”

::.

alright alright I don’t wanna do a full part two but I’ll do drabbles bc for some reason I love his crazy ass

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[anilovie]

My Love, My Life

Summary: You and Anakin are on a supply-run and get caught in a storm, forcing you to find shelter amidst growing tensions.

WC: 9.3k

CW: MDNI, pwp, oral (f recieving), mild size kink, shared shower, lots of fluff

AN: I swear this whole thing was revealed to me in a vision.

You and Anakin had been watching the weather closely since being sent out in the dingy little transport ship. The mission was to deliver supplies and medical aid to an incognito Obi-Wan on the planet Leaze— before the storm got bad enough where travel became impossible. 

It was a simple mission, if not complicated by the sudden turn in their seasons, bringing forth a front of strong winds and heavy rains. Anakin could have even come himself, but the two of you played up the extent of Obi-Wan’s sustained injuries so that the Council would feel the need to send a medic – you – along for the ride as well. Any opportunity for you and Anakin to spend time together, you exploited. 

Really, Obi-Wan just sprained a wrist. He was low on food, water ammo, batteries, and his clothes had been all torn up in a nasty skirmish with some bounty hunters. “A joyride,” Anakin referred to this mission as. That is, until you began the descent into Leaze’s misty, swirling skies.

In between tracking his location and watching the weather radar, Anakin’s focus was on bringing you down to the ground safely — with a little more emphasis on safe, since you were here. Thus, his hands gripped the controls with a bit more force than normal, jaw clenched and brows furrowed as he met each gust of wind with a controlled parry. He pulled the shuttle through the misty skies, stabilizing the rocking foundations through the whipping winds that threatened to toss you right out of the air.

You weren’t sure how he could even see. The rain and leaves that had stuck to the window obliterated any view– he likely wasn’t even trying to see. You realized this as he answered Obi-Wan’s incoming call without even sparing a glance out the window, fingers flying over the dashboard, weathering the elements through intellect and feeling alone. 

“Anakin, Y/n, I trust that you’ve made it here safely,” Obi-Wan’s hologram displayed before you and Anakin. He looked alright – his disguise was off, for now, and he seemed to be someplace warm and out of the rain, a complete juxtaposition to the two of you.

As soon as the words warbled through, something slammed into the shuttle, rocking the foundations with an ominous groan as you began to plummet.

Anakin swore and yanked on the yoke, flicking some switches on the dashboard. “Working on it,” he bit through clenched teeth, huffing as the inferior ion engines sputtered and popped to life, breaking your fall. The shull continued to rattle and jerk, throwing you around in your seat despite being fully strapped up. 

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Well, once you make it to the ground, don’t bother coming to my location. The storm is worse than the reports have indicated. Find shelter for yourselves – I can hold out another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’ll do more harm than good forcing you out there in these conditions. I am safe where I am.”

“Which is where?”

The transmission cut out for a moment, shuttering off and on again as sheets of rain pelted the aluminum roof. You caught the last half of his explanation. “--they offered a room for the night, though at a high price. I hope you brought extra credits.”

“Some,” Anakin grit. 

“Perfect. Well, I won’t keep distracting you. It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Obi-Wan bid goodbye, his cheery tone outlandish among your current predicament. “Happy landings,” he bid, and the transmission cut off.

Your fingers dug into your armrests, trusting Anakin’s skill to see that wish through. He was still deeply concentrated, and more than a little stressed as he pulled the yoke and typed over multiple colorful buttons. 

“Well, at least he’s safe,” you offered offhandedly, trying to diffuse the tension. Another hard gust of wind slammed into the hull, this time on your side, followed by a hard sheet of rain. You flinched. 

The lights had begun to flicker a while ago, and now they shut off completely, leaving you in the pitch black. Your sharp intake of air was audible, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach as the assault on the ship heightened.

“It’s okay, I did that on purpose,” Anakin explained. You could hear the strain in his voice, the clacking of his fingers over the overworked dashboard. “We need more power to the engines and thrusters. It’ll be a bumpy landing either way, but–”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked. 

“We’re almost there…”  

Bracing yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the armrests, anticipation swirling around in your gut. You trusted him. You didn’t have to be so afraid. It was the weather you didn’t trust. Maker forbid you land in a pit of mud, swallowed up before you could escape. 

A sudden jolt threw you forward, the sickening screech of bolts and rods fighting to hold the metal panels of the shuttle together drowning out all other senses. Inertia pushed you forward in your seat, and you would have gone flying out the windshield if it weren’t for the double straps tightened over your chest, the lap belt, and the death grip you had on your armrests.

Slowly, the sliding of the shuttle ship began to slow, the tension in the shuttle easing, parts settling back into place. Then, the sounds of the vicious rain pelting the roof returned, your body relaxing against the seat with a huff, blinking your eyes open to the pitch blackness of the hull.

“You okay?” Anakin worried, clicking out of his own seatbelt to reach for you. 

You followed suit, fingers fumbling around in the dark for the clasps that would free you. “All good,” you released one set of straps, and Anakin found the two others for you. “Thanks.”

Another gust of wind nudged the shull forward, groaning under the pressure. Some lights flickered on, and there was Anakin fiddling with the control panel overhead so you could see. 

“I don’t think we can stay here for very long, unfortunately,” he said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so stressed. “The ship appears to be sinking. We’ll have to pack a bag and get going.”

Abandon ship? In these conditions?

Again, your unshakable trust in him erased any fear in your mind. He’d done far riskier and more dangerous things – his own fear now was because of you. You’re safety. 

But you were fine – just a little shaky as you stood and reached for the supply crates in the back, rifling through them for necessities, tossing them to Anakin to shove into a bag. You managed to get half of what you’d originally planned to drop off for Obi-Wan into two bags. Anakin shrugged the larger one over his shoulders, and you took the smaller one.

You’d both come prepared, already wearing rain ponchos, but it seemed like they’d do little good as Anakin kicked the stuck door open. The sound of the rain coming down was deafening, a roaring torrent that could easily sweep you away. 

“Hold on to me,” Anakin yelled over the sound, and you hooked an arm around his, pulling you out of the ship with him.

Mud and rain splattered your face as your boots met the ground, and he immediately took off, dragging you with him. Again, your blind faith in him came in handy. All you could focus on was spluttering around the rain for any pocket of air you could find, trying to keep upright as your heels slipped and skidded in the mud, hoping you weren’t slowing Anakin down.

Of course you were slowing him down. You were no Jedi. But you both knew that, and he didn’t mind. Just wanted you out of the wind and rain so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

After what seemed like ages of the two of you fighting through the elements, narrowly avoiding trees and branches and sharp rocks, Anakin pointed out an abandoned shed in the distance. He ran for it, pulling you under the awning with him so he could pound on the door.

“No one’s here,” he spoke after a moment as you were still wiping water out of your eyes. Something clicked in the door, unlocking so Anakin could open it up and peer inside.

He found the light switch on the wall, flipping it up and down uselessly. “Power’s out,” he mumbled, searching around in the force for some mechanism of light. Apparently finding something, he released your hand. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood shivering by the closed door, dripping a puddle of water onto the ground as you waited for him to return. With your sight gone, your other senses were heightened – you could smell the dust of furniture long forgotten, hear the creeks of unkempt floorboards as Anakin explored the shed, and feel the bone-cold chill of the storm seeping in under the crack in the door. Wherever you were, it was very old, and likely abandoned.

Anakin came back around the corner brandishing a candle, shielding the flame with one hand as he made his way back to you.

“This looks like it was somebody’s home at one point,” he thought aloud, pointing to the way he just came. “That’s a kitchen over there, and there’s a loft with a bed in the back. Pretty sure I saw a shower, too. I can probably get the pumps running long enough to make use of it.”

You wouldn’t question how he could do that– sometimes it seemed like he had magical powers, even without the force. 

“Is there a fireplace?” you wondered, shaking off your drenched poncho and stepping further in now that you could see. “Maybe I could heat up some water to use, warm this place up a bit, too.”

Anakin held the candle out before him, casting shadows over the interior of the little shed. Right in front of the door was a wooden stairway – more of a ladder – that led to what you assumed was an attic. Deciding to avoid any bats or rodents, you agreed to keep that shut and rounded the ladder to what looked like a tiny living room opposite the kitchen, separated by a thin wall.

A couple threadbare sofa-chairs sat dusty and weathered on the dull carpet, a table set before the both of them, and – jackpot – a little stone fireplace in the corner.

“The wood from outside is too wet to burn,” Anakin poked at the empty log pit. “But I could break down that table and use it as fuel…”

“Good idea,” you chirped, taking the candle from Anakin to free up his hands for the task. “I’ll go look for more candles and matches.”

The kitchen was just as tiny, standing room only and no dining table. It consisted of a slab of wood for a counter, an empty ice box that was cracked down the middle, and some drawers which were also mostly empty.

One of the cupboard up top held a few random supplies, mostly rubber bands and bottle caps and dead batteries. But amid that was a bag of little tea candles, a few larger ones made of a slippery wax, and a box of matches. Half were no good, but you only needed to light one and then share the flame with all the others.

You planted the tea candles around on various surfaces, lighting the space up as Anakin broke down the table. You threw some old papers you’d found bunched in a drawer into the fireplace for more starter fuel, scratching another match to life against the grated box once Anakin dropped a leg of the table into the fire. You tossed the match in after it, satisfied when the flame caught the edge of the papers and flared to life, enveloping the wooden leg.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed, holding your hands out to warm by the flame. 

“Mmhm,” he agreed, crouched beside you. He stared, mesmerized by the flames for a long moment before suddenly standing. “Alright, I’m gonna go look at the pipes. Will you be okay for now?”

“Yup,” you nodded cheerily. “Where are the pipes?”

“There’s a cellar out back. Should be down there.”

“Oh…” this time, your shiver wasn’t from the cold. “Want me to go with you? Sounds kinda creepy.”

Anakin huffed a laugh, running a hand down the back of your head affectionately. “No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you. Want you to stay here and warm up.”

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Perfect,” he brought you toward him with that hand, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Now alone, you fed the fire with some more wood from the table, crouching down before the bags to get out your and Anakin’s spare set of clothes. You hung them up on the sill of the fireplace, weighing them down with the candles so they could dry. 

There were a couple of large buckets beside the fireplace, probably meant for gathering wood. You took one and set it outside to collect rainwater. It didn’t take very long at all – it filled up from the downpour within minutes, and you hung it up on the metal rod above the fire to boil for drinking water.

Then you grabbed one of the thicker candles to light your way to the back of the shed. The floorboards lifted slightly back here, half of a wall hiding the bedroom from the rest of the interior. 

The bed was quite large for such a small space, half-made with a quilted cover. It looked all dusty and gross, so you tore it off and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the space, praying for some spare sheets.

Luck seemed to be on your side. There was a set of sheets, blankets, and even a couple of pillows stowed away atop the first shelf in the closet. You had to strain on your tiptoes to reach them, but eventually knocked them down to your height. You took them to the living room and shook them out, making sure no dust or any bugs hid inside, then brought them back to the room and made the bed.

It was a lot more than you were hoping for, for an abandoned shed in the depths of the forest.

With the bed all made and Anakin not back yet, you decided to use the old dirty blanket to wipe down the interior of the bathroom. There was a shower – if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was just a spigot attached to the wall with a drain beneath, the floor here made of smooth rock rather than wood. But if Anakin could get it to work, and you warmed up some more water over the fire, you could have a real, warm shower using the soap you’d brought from the ship. 

The sound of the door opening let in the roar of the rain once more. Anakin closed it behind him, shaking water out of his hair.. “Good news,” he called, voice carrying from the door to the bedroom in the small shed. “There’s a water heater down there that I got working, as well as the pipes. I just have to fill the tank and we’re good to go.”

“Ohh,” you cooed excitedly, rounding the corner to meet him again. “I found a bucket we could use– hold on.” You grabbed the spare bucket from the fireplace and handed it to him. “The bed’s all set, I found some clean sheets and cleaned up the bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the kitchen or anywhere else,” you shrugged. “But I think this will do pretty well for the night.”

“I think so, too,” Anakin said, and despite the howling wind and icy rain pounding into the roof and threatening to shatter the windows, he smiled. 

He left to go fill the tank, and you laid out the rest of the supplies before the fire. The bigger bag was for Obi-Wan– those things you didn’t touch. But you and Anakin had a couple extra blankets, some food, a blaster, maps, and your medical supplies. Most of it survived the rain.

By the time Anakin came back, you were still sitting before the fire, occasionally feeding it with more scraps of wood and poking it around with a longer piece. He kicked the mud and dirt off his boots at the door before coming in, shrugging off his poncho. 

“Alright, bad news…” he started this time. You turned to look at him. “The heater is the slowest thing I’ve ever come across. It’ll take hours. I don’t think showers are in the cards for us tonight.”

You twisted your lips, trying not to seem too disappointed. “Bummer.” 

All you wanted to do was get out of these sticky, soaking wet clothes and immerse yourself in a warm shower. But at least he tried, and it really wasn’t the end of the world.

“Maybe in the morning,” you reasoned, trying to stay positive. He joined you by the fire as you tugged on the clothes you’d hung up, seeing if they were ready. “At least these are dry, and warm now. That’s better than nothing.”

“It is. Smart girl,” he tilted your face toward his with a finger, crouched before you again. His lips met yours – wet meeting dry, cold meeting warm. It took you by surprise a little bit, the intensity he kissed you with out of nowhere. But you responded in earnest, as if the simple touch of your flesh could warm him from the torrents coming down outside. 

After a long moment, he pulled back an inch, mumbling against your mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah?”

You nodded silently, standing once he gave you room to take the clothes down from the fire. 

You’d been on missions with Anakin before, just the two of you. But nothing like this – so raw, so intimate, so secluded from the rest of the world. You could feel a strange tension in the air between you two, not bad. Just… different. Like there was an energy pulsing alive, waiting for something to snap.

You’d been with Anakin for a few months now, and in love with each other for far longer. But… you’d never truly been with him yet. In any way. 

He knew you weren’t ready, and explained you could take it slow. As slow as you wanted. He, of course, was already experienced, and that intimidated you. Which is why it had been months, and you still hadn’t made a move to progress things. Just the thought of doing those things with him made you impossibly nervous.

But lately, like now, you were thinking about it more and more. You couldn’t do this with anyone else, you thought. Just Anakin. You loved him more than life itself, and your ability to express that with words or innocent touches was growing limited. 

You wanted more of him. And you wanted him to have more of you.

What are you thinking? You shook the thoughts out of your head as you took your clothes into the bathroom to change. These thoughts had nothing to do with the predicament you found yourselves in. The last thing he was thinking about was sex.

In fact, upon exiting the bathroom, you found him already changed into his dried pair of pants and nothing else, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you with a tired, slumped look in his eyes.

He’d given you his spare shirt to wear since it was bigger and warmer than yours, and he wasn’t going to wear it anyways. You also had on a pair of shorts, the comfy ones you brought for sleeping since you thought you’d be in an inn right now. 

You approached him slowly, shadows cast over his face from the candlelight, flickering off the walls. The air was a bit chillier back here, away from the fire that you’d let simmer to embers for now. Naturally, you gravitated toward his shirtless form, slotting yourself in the space he’d opened up for you between his knees, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What an odd change of plans,” you muttered into his hair softly.

His flesh hand found your back, holding you close as he nestled his head against your chest. “Agreed.”

You remained like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and rain-damp hair, listening to the constant thrum of the downpour above, the gusting wind in the trees. 

“You tired?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You liked how it looked dark and burnished in the candlelight, holding the shape of a ringlet curl as you wrapped and uncoiled it from around your finger. 

“Very,” he breathed, turning his face into your neck to leave a kiss on your collarbone. “C’mere.”

Both of his wrapped around your back, securely holding you to him as he fell backward onto the bed, with you on top of him. You laughed, steadying yourself with your arms on either side of his head, ducking down to plant a sweet kiss above his brows. 

“You’re not even on the bed,” you pointed out, referring to his legs which were still on the floor. You pulled back the covers, and you both slipped under, instantly finding the spot between his chest and shoulder to lay your head. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you snuggly into his side, allowing you to slot one of your legs between his. 

This is how it always was when you and him could truly be alone, uninterrupted, with no threat of someone finding you out. It was a rare moment, which is why your skin sang with every inch it pressed against his, heart soaring in your chest as your body seemed to settle so perfectly against his, erasing any doubt in your mind that any of this could be a mistake.

Before long, and without even realizing, you slipped into a deep sleep. Despite the harsh weather outside, you’d never felt so comfortable, wrapped up in warmth and darkness. That is, until Anakin woke with a start, wrenching you out of your slumber.

“What issit?” you slurred, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t like when he’d have nightmares, where you’d usually wake up before him due to his tossing and turning and mumbling. This was sudden – like something had possessed him, stolen all the air from his lungs as wide eyes turned to you.

“The transmitter,” he said, throwing the blankets off of him and getting out of bed. Your head was still lagging behind, having no idea what he meant.

“What transmitter?”

“The one on the ship. The only way we can contact Obi-Wan. We left it behind.”

He was already pulling on his boots and reaching for his other shirt, sparing no time. You pushed yourself further up in bed, swiping your hair out of your face. “D’you have to get it now? Can it wait till the morning?”

“The ship was sinking when we left it. It could be buried in mud right now,” he rushed the words out, grabbing his utility belt from the sill and securing it around his waist. “I’ll be back in an hour. Go back to bed… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” you were already swinging your legs off the bed too, about to stand up when Anakin put a hand on your shoulder. It was dark now, the candles having been blown out without you realizing, and you could barely see his face.

“No. Stay here. I don’t want you out there, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s just some rain,” your argument sounded meek, even to you. “Come on, Anakin, I don’t want you to go alone. ‘S not fair.”

“Fair?” 

“You shouldn’t have to be out there while I stay here and sleep. I won’t be able to, anyway. It is dangerous, so I should come with you, in case something happens.”

“Y/n. No,” he said sternly, and you flinched. A heavy pause hung between you, where you searched for what to say among the scattered thoughts in your brain. He’d never been stern with you before. Ever. 

“I won’t be gone long. I promise I’ll be there and back as fast as I can. Okay?”

“But,” you insisted stubbornly, desperately fighting back the sting in your eyes. “I want to go with you, Anakin. I want to help you.”

You tried to stand up again, but the hold he had on your shoulders wouldn’t let you. You tried to fight back the emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill over your eyes at his defiance. He was too strong, his word absolute– and for once, you couldn’t sway him.

The thought of him out there, alone in the dark and cold and rain… it killed you.

You grasped at his wrists, still holding onto your shoulders, and squeezed as if you could keep him there. As if he wasn’t laughably stronger than you, and could pull away from your touch without realizing you were trying.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? This isn’t like you,” his words came out hushed now. Worried. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sniffed, lip beginning to wobble. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s scary out there.

“I won’t. I promise… I’ll be okay. You’ll see,” he kissed the stray tear that squeezed out of your eye, collecting it with his lips before it could trail a path down your cheek. You tried to steady your breathing, shaky as it dragged in and out of your lungs, quelling the rising feeling of dread and fear.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you back into bed, on your back, tucking the sheets in around you nice and tight. Tight enough so that you couldn’t get out, perhaps. Whimpering in defeat, you felt another few tears squeeze out of your eyes, turning your head away from him to bury into the pillow.

“Don’t do this,” Anakin murmured, stroking a hand over your hair. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Fine,” you snipped, immediately regretting it. “‘M sorry… just don’t get hurt. Come back.”

“I will,” he whispered, and trailed warm kisses down your temple. 

And then he was gone.

His voice, his touch, his scent, his warmth – all of it, vanished like it had never been there to begin with.

It’s not the fact that he’d left to go do something dangerous on his own – it was the fact that he was out there all alone, in a terrible storm, fighting through the unpredictability of the elements. It had been violent for the short time you’d been out there earlier, the rain pelting your skin so hard it stung, the mud sticking to your boots, refusing to let you move, the wind nearly toppling you over if Anakin hadn’t been there to steady you.

You could have gone with him. You could have kept up. And Maker forbid anything happen to him – if he got stuck, trapped somewhere, if a tree came down over him, if he got lost and couldn’t find his way–

You couldn’t stay in bed. Half of you wanted to pull your boots on too and meet him out there, but you knew that was a stupid decision. You didn’t have his sense of direction, the built in radar that he had. And even as you peered through the cloudy window to the outside world, you knew it would be in vain. The night forest was alive with shuttering tree limbs, branches fighting each other in the sky as the terrible wind tossed them around. The rain never let up, the same suffocating sheet of water dumping from the moonless sky above.

Anakin was far gone at this point. You could only sit by the window, alone in the cold, dusty dark, until he returned.

The sleeves of your – Anakin’s – shirt had grown damp by the time you spotted his figure appear out of the trees. 

It startled you at first, worried some stranger had come across the shed in the same way you and Anakin had, and was now heading this way to seek shelter. Once he arrived, he might find you here, and maybe he’d try to hurt you.

You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and grabbed for the water-logged blaster you’d set on the floor, shaking out some raindrops and hoping it wasn’t one of the things that got destroyed by the rain. 

Your worry was for naught - the closer the figure grew, the more you recognized the height, shape, and gait of Anakin Skywalker. The hood of his poncho was pulled up over his head, but it did little good as the wind tugged and pulled at it, letting the rain drench his face anyway.

You set the blaster down and met him by the door, pulling it open to reveal him soaked to the bone and panting. He truly had run the whole way.

“Anakin,” you started, trying to stay out of his way so he could take off his poncho and boots without spraying you with water. “Are you okay? Did you get the transmitter?”

“I made it just in time,” he explained, reaching into his belt pocket and brandishing the little metal device. Such a small thing, important enough to risk his life over. 

At least, to him it was.

“You must be freezing,” you muttered, still upset at the fact that you hadn’t shared in his suffering. You hated seeing him go through these things alone. You should have been with him. 

“The heaters have probably had enough time to warm the water up,” his attempt to distract you didn’t go unnoticed. “You wanna go check for me?”

You whispered, “okay,” and flit back to the bedroom, lighting a couple of candles inside so you could see. The spigot was stuck in place due to years of sitting unused and abandoned, but eventually you managed to wrench it to the side, almost splattering yourself with brown water.

Your face crinkled in disgust, but soon it began to run clear. You tested the temperature with your fingertips, pleased to feel that it was warm.

Anakin rounded the corner, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s warm,” you pulled your hand away and wiped it dry on your shorts. “You should get in quick so it’s not wasted.”

“Wanna join me?”

His offer caught you by surprise.

Join him? In the shower? As in… naked?

The look on your face must have given your thoughts away. He chuckled and reached toward one of the tea lights you’d just lit, snuffing the flame out between two gloved fingers. “I can turn off the lights…” he teased.

Damn him. As if you weren’t already flustered – 

The steady trickle of the spigot remained at your back, seducing you to the warmth of the shower. It would feel so good to be able to wash up. And with there only really being enough time for one shower… it would make sense for the both of you to just do it together.

But Anakin had never seen you without clothes before. And you hadn’t prepared for that to happen today.

“Yes… no…?” he drawled, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the other candle. Like the first, he pinched the flame out, blanketing the room in darkness. The sound of the floorboards creaking was the only way you knew he was approaching, tensing as you felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll behave.”

You were still upset with him being stern with you earlier. And even more upset that he didn’t let you go with him. 

But something about his honey-smooth voice reduced you to putty in his hands. Warmth budded and bloomed deep in your stomach, and a certain resolve passed over you. You didn’t want to be upset anymore. You wanted this. 

“Okay,” you whispered, fingers finding Anakin’s at the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t miss his slight inhale.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you tugged the hem up yourself, urging him to guide the material over your head. 

The darkness of the room was the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort, knowing he couldn’t truly see you just yet. You knew, logically, that he could fathom things in his mind without having to see them, but purposely ignored that fact.

You weren’t sure where your shirt landed, as he’d been the one to tug your arms out himself. Riding the adrenaline high, you slipped your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and pushed them down, kicking them somewhere in the corner.

And there you were, standing completely naked in front of Anakin Skywalker – your love, your life – for the first time ever.

Again, the only reason you could really do this right now was because it was pitch black in the room. You only had enough nerve to then reach for him, hand finding the soaking wet material of his own shirt as you shivered in the cold.

“Hurry up and get undressed, I wanna get in,” you pleaded. He’d gone eerily silent.

At your request, he started into motion. You could hear the sounds of his wet clothes slopping to the ground heavily, trying to fight the blush off of your face as you turned around to pull the spigot further. The water began to rain down in a warm current now, and you stepped underneath to douse yourself in the glorious heat.

“Where are yo–? oh,” you jumped as you felt his hands find their way around your waist, his naked chest pressed up against your back. The water sprayed over the both of you, trickling down his body to fall onto yours, shivering at the added heat.

The blood in your face grew warmer, trying not to think about how close his hands were to two very sensitive parts of your body. They spanned almost the whole length of your torso, tummy twisting as you realized just how big he was. Just how strong.

But he chose to be gentle with you.

Trying to steady your breathing, you reached for the soap you’d stowed away in the notch in the wall, flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Anakin trailed his fingers down your arm, taking the bottle from you and setting it down again. 

You rubbed the soap between your hands, letting the excess drip down your body so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then, you began rubbing the suds all into your skin, feeling impossibly feverish at the predicament.

It just felt… wrong, somehow, to be touching yourself like this in front of Anakin. Even if you were just washing up.

His hands had returned to your waist, and you smoothed them over his own as you worked your way down your body. Wordlessly, he turned his hands over, capturing your soapy fingers in his and stealing some of the suds. You huffed a laugh, heart fluttering in your chest as he began to work that soap into the soft skin of your stomach, hips, and waist. 

You tried not to squirm too much. Forced yourself to relax, and just let him do what he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, the way he lingered, rubbing circles into your soft skin, kissing at your shoulder blade as he brought his hands around and up your back, almost massaging the soap into you. 

The way his hands moved over your body was so different than anything you’ve ever felt before. You’d never been touched so tenderly, so unrestricted yet loving as you’d been now. And though he had free reign, he avoided the parts that might make you uncomfortable… until you grew bold enough to capture his wandering hands in your own, leading them to the soft mounds of flesh yourself. 

On instinct he squeezed, ever so gently, with your smaller fingers bracketing his own. “You can touch me,” you whispered, encouraging now that you were fully relaxed and comfortable with him.

“You’re perfect,” he replied, lips finding the curve of your neck.

What had he said about behaving?

As if he could read your thoughts, his lips released the skin of your neck with a small sound, pressing a kiss above that spot, and then one more under your jaw. Then he began to move his hands over your breasts, not quite sexual, but gentle. Caring. Washing you of rainwater and chill, so all that was left was the sweet smelling soap and the feel of him.

You sighed in relief, bones turning to mush in his hands. Soon, he reached for the soap again and squeezed more out, stepping around so that he was in front of you.

His hands found you again, your waist this time, the unpredictability of his touches making your heart hammer against your ribs. Something about it was so thrilling, not being able to see where he was or where he was planning to go, especially now that you’d given him permission to touch you. You weren’t sure where you’d draw the line if it came to that. If you’d draw the line. 

His touch remained wholly innocent, though, focusing back around on your stomach, dragging down the curve of your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs. You could feel his breath on your tummy, butterflies flaring to life as you realized he was on his knees before you, dragging his touch up and down your thighs as his lips pressed a sensual kiss to the top of your tummy. Then above your belly button. Then one below–

You held your breath, anticipating him to keep going. But he lingered on the last kiss, and you could feel his teeth on your skin as he smiled.

“On my best behavior, remember?” his voice was deep, almost a purr. 

You could only manage a meek “Mmhm,” as he continued on, tracing his fingers down to your knee, lifting one leg slightly so he could trail kisses down your thigh, over your knee, down, down down, all the while rubbing soap into your skin in his lip’s wake.

By the time he reached your foot, you were bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying not to jump out of your skin as his lips continued. He kissed your ankle, the top of your foot, massaging soap into the soles of your feet. 

He wasn’t just washing you. He was worshiping you.

That much was clear as he released that leg and started over on the other side. 

You were almost relieved when he was done. Every inch of your skin was alive and buzzing, standing on edge with electricity and embarrassment and something else. Something deep, and smooth, and warm like bubbling molasses. You could barely breathe, glad for the moment of reprieve when he finally released you, and deposited more soap in his hands so he could wash himself. 

Your legs were jelly, afraid you’d fall down right there in the shower, completely baffled how he could just do something like that and continue on like nothing happened. Then, you heard the speed at which he was rubbing the soap over his own body – clearly, he wanted to get out to continue this elsewhere. 

You weren’t terribly ashamed to admit you were thinking along the same line.

Before the water could run cold, Anakin had urged you both under the spigot again and rinsed all the suds off your body. Then he grabbed for the single towel that you’d brought from the supply bag, turning the water off and wrapping you up in it.

“Hey– what’re you doing?” you pouted, undoing the towel just as soon as he’d tucked it into you, secure.

“Getting you dry,” he responded like it was obvious. You rubbed the towel over your skin quickly, then wrapped Anakin in it like he’d done to you. Or– you tried to, at least. You still couldn’t see, and completely missed your mark, caught off guard by the absence of the body you confidently reached for that you almost slipped, bracing yourself on the first thing you could reach.

“Woah,” Anakin chuckled, easily steadying you with his hands around your waist. Your bare chest was pressed against his, glaringly obvious with the way the cold air tightened your skin, and you blushed furiously. 

“Sorry– couldn’t find you,” you mumbled, hopelessly patting at his chest with the towel now that you had him.

“Alright, let’s get you dressed and out of here before you take us both down,” he teased, bending to retrieve the clothes you’d both discarded in the dark.

You let him pull his shirt over your head first, shielding you from the nippy air. You were disappointed with the loss of contact, but glad for the sense of normalcy. He knelt before you again and urged you to lift your leg with his hand around your calf, guiding one leg, then the other into your shorts, pulling them up until they rested comfortably on your hips.

He pulled his own pants on, the only thing he’d be wearing, and you finally reached for the bathroom door, ready to be able to see again even if it was only by candlelight.

It was like re-entering life, after being in the dark for so long. You turned to see if Anakin was following you, finding him close behind as he shut the door behind him, and just the sight of his ridiculously handsome face, gilded by the glow of the fire, set your heart aflame.

You needed his lips on yours. Now.

This time, he was taken by surprise with the intensity of your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, barely noticing as he fell back into the door slightly, hand finding your hip to steady you. His surprise quickly melted into an intensity that matched your own, hot lips sliding over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste, palm guiding your jaw just how he liked.

He kissed like he was drinking you in, breathing your air, as if he wished to share the same skin as you. And though you’d started it, now you were trying to keep up, head growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen as he began to guide you backward, onto the bed.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, the reality of the situation dawned on you. He wasn’t slowing down, and you didn’t want him to. His touch dragged fire across your flesh, tracing down the places he’d just worshiped under your clothes, pulling you so close to him you could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Your hands buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder for stability, grounding as he released your lips with a gasp, wasting no time before claiming the sensitive skin of your neck with the same furiosity. 

“Anakin,” you breathed, not really sure what you wanted to say. You just wanted to taste his name in your mouth, the way the syllables sounded so pretty, so perfect between your teeth.

He answered with a short “mmm,” listening but not really. He was too deep into it, kissing and sucking and nipping at your neck, tongue laving over the small hurts that his teeth dug into you. 

Somehow his flesh hand had drifted to the elastic of your shorts. You’d missed it before, too caught up in him toying with the skin over your pulsepoint. But now his fingers teased the elastic that he’d just put on you, and despite your livewire nerves and the pound of your heart, you lifted your hips in invitation.

His mouth detached from your neck, shocked again as he breathed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you forbid him from asking again by pulling him back to your lips. You needed the distraction, bracketing his jaw in both your hands as he pulled your shorts down your legs, slowly. Giving you time to back out.

You kicked them off once he reached your feet, flinging them out of sight. Anakin settled back between your thighs, your knees squeezing his waist, squirming as his touch now roamed free under your shirt.

“Anakin,” you pulled away to breathe once again, lips swollen and wet, filled with the taste of him. “I– I don’t know what to do.”

His eyelashes shuttered, delicate as a butterfly wing, and he leaned back in to peck you gently on the lips. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he murmured, eyes all melted and soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

There it was again. That blind trust. 

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d let him. Half dressed, strewn over the bed, all for his taking… and he moved down your body to recount the kisses he’d pressed to your stomach in the shower only moments before.

Your muscles clenched and unclenched, hips squirming as you felt an uncomfortable warmth, a wetness, an ache between your legs the further down he moved. You were no stranger to that feeling, or how to relieve it– but you were new to sharing it with someone else. Sharing it with him. 

Though it made you incredibly nervous to have him down there, the need for his touch outweighed everything. He kissed your stomach, hips, and thighs until he felt you relax under his palms, and only then did he slide his hands beneath your knees, pausing one last time to ask:

“Will you let me taste you?”

It felt like something exploded in your face, with the intensity that heat bloomed in your cheeks. Those bejeweled eyes shining in the candlelight, intent on you, hands clutching the plush softness of the backs of your thighs, breath ghosting over the bottom of your stomach– it was almost too much.

“Okay,” you answered quietly, nodding your head. “Y-yes.”

His responding grin was wicked – roguish. Broad hands pushed your legs up and spread them apart, baring it all for him to see.

It was quick– so quick you barely had time to be embarrassed, like ripping a bandaid off. He just… did it. And now he was looking at you, holding your thighs so steady in his strong grasp that you couldn’t even dream of closing them on him.

You threw a hand over your eyes, unable to watch him look at you.

“Baby,” he breathed, flesh hand releasing one of your legs so he could slot it between your thighs, thumb pulling you open a little. You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed as he studied you, only opening your eyes to look at him when he tugged at your wrist in silent demand.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” he teased, though when you blinked open your wet eyes to look at him, his face had melted into one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before pressing his lips to the swollen bud of your clit, taking you by surprise again. “The prettiest there ever was,” he smirked when he saw your reaction, pulling you open with both thumbs now so he could press a hot, deep, lingering kiss into you.

You gasped at the contact, blood rushing in your ears as your back bowed off the bed. Sparks of pleasure battled the humiliation as he continued planting sweet little suckling kisses to your clit, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

Once you’d relaxed back onto the bed, and the first pathetic whimper left your mouth, he let his tongue roam your folds, collecting your taste.

He knew this was new for you, so he went slow. Started gentle, getting you used to the feeling. And it was strange for you, just a little bit, but mostly it felt… good. So good. Indescribably good. So much so that you couldn’t believe you’d held out on this for so long.

Couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you now. 

Your hips twitched and jumped as his tongue traced down to your entrance, teasingly licking you in circles, using pressure like he might try to put it in. The thought had you reaching for the bedsheets, needing something to squeeze in your fists. One of his hands intercepted yours, bringing it back to your thigh so he could hold you still and let you squeeze his hand at the same time. 

He licked your arousal up, truly drinking you now, allowing his tongue to lave over your clit all slow and smooth and warm. You mewled, a sweet, innocent sound that went straight to his cock. With a desire to pull more pretty sounds from you, he kept drawing circles over your clit, increasing the pressure and speed until your eyes were closed, and you were biting your finger between your teeth, unable to help the sounds escaping you.

“Fuck, Ani–”  gasped, thighs falling open by themselves now, inviting him deeper. He licked you again, closing his lips at the top of your heat to suck your clit into his mouth, pulling it between his lips with a pulsing suction. 

He didn’t let up. 

Your muscles tensed, the fuzzy warmth building in your gut, between your legs, spreading down your thighs, becoming all consuming. And just when you thought it would burst, he let go.

“Shit,” you cried, breathless as your hips rocked against his mouth. He laughed, sticking his tongue out so you could hump the met muscle, hot breath fanning over your most sensitive parts. His teeth gleamed in the firelight, dark eyes trained on you, and you had to shut your own so you didn’t cum right there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulled his face away, pinching the inside of your thigh just enough to sting. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze again. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

His mouth, shining with your slick, lowered to your pussy again. And you couldn’t stop from moaning, hips canting up and down even though you knew it made his job more difficult. You just couldn’t help it– it felt too good. 

And he knew that, so he was nice. It was your first time, after all. So he relaxed the hold he had on your hips and let you squirm, just a little, to delude you into thinking you had even an ounce of control.

“You gonna cum in my mouth, sweet thing?” he spoke against your cunt, sealing the words off with a loud, wet, kiss. “Gonna make a mess for me?”

You’d never appreciated the velvety timber of his voice more than right now. 

“Mhm,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezing closed. And again, he let you. There would be other times to play his wicked games.

“Alright, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready,” he soothed, returning his mouth to your clit. He licked and sucked, sliding his tongue back down to your hole and breaching the entrance like he’d fantasized about doing with his cock for so long now, carving the exact path he would take. You gasped for air, humming it out in cute helpless whines and whimpers, cheeks permanently stained in a flush.

“Anakin, I–” you wanted to say you loved him, no matter how pathetic that sounded. But it was true, it was all you could feel as his lips suctioned around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue in torturous circles. You loved him, loved his mind and his body, and the way his lips and tongue were pulling that glorious wave of heat from out of you now, swallowing the gush of hot slick that escaped from your pulsing hole.

He brought you down with his thumb on your clit, soothing gentle circles into it as you cried, body shaking and jerking beneath him. He watched you come undone with a small smile on his face, not allowing you to escape his attention for even a moment. 

The last gulp of air that you took to settle your shivering muscles felt like the sweetest breath you’d ever taken. Anakin climbed back up your body, hands sliding over your knees, so he could kiss you deep on the lips.

You tasted yourself – it wasn’t bad… slightly salty, but not quite. That mixed with the taste of Anakin had your brain turn to mush again, lips lazy and compliant under his.

“See how good you taste?” he hummed, going back in to flirt his tongue around yours. “Fucking delicious.”

“Anakin–” you were pushing at his chest now, the buffer of arousal no longer shielding you from so much embarrassment. He laughed as you covered your face with your hands, immediately trying to tug them away again.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted with that lover’s pur, and you pouted once he finally succeeded in seeing your face again. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, still smiling. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, unable to fight back your own matching smile. “‘T was so good, Ani. Didn’t think… didn’t think it’d be like that.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head, leaning into his warm palm as he cupped your cheek, thumb still stroking your bottom lip. “Thank you. Do you– do you want me to…”

It took him a second before he realized what you were talking about. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down, then laughed. “No– no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, mirth and adoration oozing from his gaze. “But I can handle it tonight. Think that was enough for you.”

You pouted again, about to insist, but he kept you quiet with a kiss. “Another time, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, complaisant.

“Good.” With a deep breath of his own, he lifted himself off of you, carefully closing your legs so they wouldn’t ache from being held open for so long. “Wait here,” he requested, and then left for the bathroom again.

He grabbed the towel you both had used, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you open up for me?” he asked, fingers sliding around your thigh in silent request.

Your face burned even harder than before, somehow, as you fulfilled his request, spreading your legs a bit so he could clean you up. It was a strange feeling, almost more intimate than what he’d previously been doing– but it was quick, and it felt nice now that your arousal was all cleaned up, and he could slip your shorts back on with you having to get up. 

Anakin retreated back to the bathroom and was gone for a few long moments. You had an idea of what he was doing, another burst of heat blooming in your stomach at the thought of what was going on behind that door. You had half a mind to suggest helping him again. You were more than willing.

But he came out only a short time later to find that you’d straightened all the sheets, and were now waiting by the pillows for him to come back to bed with you. He blew out the candles as he passed them by, getting into the bed and wasting no time pulling you onto his chest.

He’d never felt closer to you. And you, him.

In the morning, you’d probably be embarrassed again, recalling what you’d done. The storm outside seemed to trap you in a bubble, your own world, and everything else seemed so far away now.

You pressed your palm to his chest, letting the strong thud, thud, thud of his heart lull you to sleep. Before he could feel you drift off, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, and you heard it in your dreams. 

divider from @saradika

[ebodebo]

The Fugitive

—the cia is going against taskforce 141, making ghost a fugitive. unfortunately, he gets hurt and a detective takes him to a near by hospital, that an old friend happens to work at.

—ghost x f!reader

—2.3k+

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"Hey, Marcey, I don't suppose you could squeeze one in the schedule?" Detective Marsh's voice rang in the matte black Dodge Charger he sat in. 

She huffed out. "John." 

"I know. I know." He quickly supplied, sparing a look to the backseat, where an injured, bleeding Ghost sat. "But, this one is messed up pretty bad." He could feel Marcey roll her eyes. "They usually are "messed up pretty bad." She said, quoting his words.

"Honey." He sighed. "I know the guy. He's a friend." He exhaled. Marcey paused for a moment. "Okay. I have a doctor on rotation who's available." She finally said. "But, this is it. I can't keep doing favors just because your boys flubbed up." 

"And you won't have to anymore because, effective immediately, I'm firing Jensen and Miles." He states. "It's too much Goddamned paperwork. Gives me a headache." He says while bringing one hand to rub his temple, the other gripping the steering wheel. 

"Good for you, boss," Marcey emphasizes the last word, causing Detective Marsh to let out a gruff laugh. "Park in the back when you get here." She stated, swiftly typing on her computer. 

"I'm outside. In the front." He confessed. "Of course you are." Marcey sighed. "I'll be right there." 

Detective Marsh looks up at the rearview mirror, carefully observing Ghost. "Does it hurt?" Detective Marsh questioned.

"What do you think?" Ghost snarkily said, his voice deep and gravely, as he held his bleeding side. Detective Marsh gave him a light laugh. "Stupid question." He confirmed. 

Marcey appeared through the revolving doors that led into the hospital. She carefully knocked on the driver's side of the Dodge, where Detective Marsh sat. 

"You seriously couldn't have parked in the back. You are going to scare my patients." She crosses her arms as she opens his car door. "This was closer. I'm sorry." He said, unbuckling his seatbelt, then stepping out of the car. "He's in the backseat." He opens the backseat, revealing Ghost. 

"Oh my-" Marcey begins inspecting his bloody side before beckoning the two nurses she brought. "What the hell happened?" She questions, hands on her hips, moving aside so the nurses can get him out of the car, though he stubbornly swats them away to get out on his merit. 

"From what I know, the guys were in pursuit, and they found him all bent to hell." He shrugs. 

"That's what they told you? Jensen and Miles?" She skeptically asks as Ghost begrudgingly allows the nurses to get him out of the car. He nods. "I know. I know. I'm going out to get a full report from some pedestrians at the scene." He grips her shoulder a bit. "Might not answer my phone for a bit. I already know the DA got wind of this. So, he's going to be busting my balls and the entire PD's for the next week or so." He kisses her temple before getting back into his car.

"No need to worry, John. We'll take care of him." She smiles.

He smiles back, closing his door. Before he pulls away, he rolls his window down. "Also, I forgot to mention, he's wanted by the CIA, so this place might be swarmed with suits. Love you, bye." He swiftly states as Marcey's face contorts. "Wait. Wha—" she begins, but he pulls off before she can rain her terror on him. 

Marcey curses before she turns to the nurses heading inside the hospital. "Unfortunately, we'll have to take him through the lobby since my husband decided he was too lazy to spring for the extra yards around' the back. Just take him to the OR." Both nurses nod and attempt to grab Ghost. 

"I can walk," he proclaims as he stumbles to the revolving doors. Marcey stares at the nurses. "Just make sure he doesn't fall on his way." She lightly waves them towards him. 

"The OR is this way, sir." One of the nurses steps in front of him, leading him towards a big metal door. 

All three of them pushed through the door and immediately are met with the room's cold air. "Just lay on the bed. Careful not to lay on your right side," one of the nurses chimed. 

"Got it." He grits as he carefully lays himself on the bed, positioned on his back. "What hospital am I at?" Ghost questions, gripping his side. 

"Highlands Medical," one nurse answers as she gets his IV drip ready. He makes a thoughtful expression. "Don't suppose Y/N still works here? Huh?"

"Oh yeah. Dr. Y/L/N. She still works here. Has been for a couple of years, actually." The nurse quickly finds his vein and gently sticks the IV in his arm. "I want her." He plainly states.

"Sorry, she has another patient at the moment. Dr. Brazo is great, though."

"No." He looks at the nurse. "I want her."

The nurses look at each other for a moment. "I'm sorry, but unfortunately—" He is quick to pull his IV out. 

"What are you-" The nurse questions. "You can't leave." The other nurse chimes as Ghost sits up, gritting his teeth as he feels his side ache. "I told you. I want her." He pauses. "And if I can't have her, I'm leaving."

They eye each other once again. "Okay, okay. Just lay back. I'll go get her." He narrows his eyes. "I will," she assures him. He gently lies back as the nurse once again sticks his IV in his arm. 

Before the nurse could leave, there was a knock at the door, followed by an intense voice. "PD," the voice said, opening the door. It was three police officers. "Simon Riley?" one asked, looking at Ghost, to which he nodded. 

"Gonna' have to handcuff you." He strolled over to the bed, pulling out his handcuffs and cuffing him to either side of the bed. "We're also gonna' have to stay in here." Two police officers stood in front of the door, and the other moved closer to Ghost's bed.

"Isn't this a bit overkill?" One nurse said as she grabbed Ghost's chart. "Direct orders," the officer who handcuffed him said. "Well, I need to go get the doctor. I can leave, right?" The two police officers by the door stepped aside and let her slip through.

The nurse made her way to room 104, where you were, gently knocking on the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Y/L/N. Can I speak to you for a moment?" You raised your brow, issuing an apology to your patient before stepping outside. 

"What's going on?" you ask, crossing your arms. "Well, we have a guy in the OR. He's uh... he's requested you." The nurse hands over his chart.

"No name?" You say, examining the blank name section of the chart. "He won't talk much. So, we just wrote down where he was injured." The nurse looks at you. "Did you tell him I was busy with another patient?" You hand the nurse the chart back. "Yes, several times, but he threatened to leave. Even pulled out his IV." The nurse let out a little laugh

You titled your head. "Call Dr. Lindley. She can take over this patient; she owes me." You grab the chart again. "In the OR, yes?" The nurse nods. You glance over the chart again before opening the door to your patient. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson. There is an emergency in the OR. But Dr. Lindley will be here shortly. I have sent her your charts so she knows your condition. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience." You earnestly say, but to your surprise, she seems fine with the change. 

You step out of room 104 with the nurse by your side and notice the influx of police in the lobby. "What the hell is going on?" You turn to the nurse with you. "I'm not sure, but earlier, three police officers came in the OR. I think they're still there." You breathe out and head towards the big metal door, though you are unable to open it.

"Excuse me. I need in." You raise your voice, knocking on the cold metal. The door is instantly opened, and he meets you.

"Simon." You question observing his disheveled state. 

"Hey, doc." You cringe at his voice. It was deep and rough. Commanding. It spliced through the air and demanded attention. It was the same, but slightly different than the voice you heard all those years ago.

"What happened to you?" You walk over to him, assessing his side.

"Got injured." He matter-of-factly proclaims.

You roll your eyes. "I see your sense of humor hasn't changed much." Your gaze travels to his hands, both glued to the bed and held by cuffs. "I can't work on him with cuffs," you remark, turning to the officers. "Sorry, I can't remove them," one says.

You frustratingly sigh. "I can't operate on him with handcuffs." You continue. "And if I don't operate on him, he'll bleed out and die." The officers glance at each other and then at Ghost.

"Don't worry, I'll be a good boy for the doctor." He remarks, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smirks under his mask. "Fine, but don't try anything." One skeptically says, walking over to him and uncuffing both hands. 

You make your way over to him and carefully cut his shirt off, where his injury is. "So-" You begin, grabbing some iodine to clean the deep wound. "What's all this about? Are you a criminal now?" You question, gently laying some surgical drape over the area.

He shuddered at the direct contact, quietly cursing. "Sorry. It's going to hurt a little." You called for one of the nurses to grab the suture kit. "So, criminal?" You pushed again as the nurse handed you the kit.

He lets out a gruff laugh that tickles your ears. "No. Not a criminal." He pauses as you begin to use the kit to sew stitches under the skin. "It's complicated." He brusquely states. "Mhm. I see you're still the brooding, mysterious type. Huh?" You smile at him as his muscles contract at the needle going into his skin. 

"Brooding?" He huffs. You let out a laugh. "Very much so." You look up to notice he's staring at you. Your eyes instantaneously locked. It should feel awkward. There were five other people in there, but it felt like it was just the two of you at that moment. 

A knock at the door jolted you out of your daze. "Open the door," the voice on the other side demanded. The police in front of the door jumped but opened it a bit before opening it wider to accommodate the person.

"Christ. Why are all of you in here?" Detective Marsh gestures to all three officers. "You two sure as shit shouldn't be here." He gestures to the two officers standing in front of the door. "The DA has the whole departments ass because of you two." He wipes his hand across his jaw, which is covered in stubble. "Get out." He demands.

"But, sir-" One officer starts.

Detective Marsh's jaw tightens, causing both officers to hurry out the door. The last officer stands adjacent to where Ghost lays. "Sorry about that." Detective Marsh declares. He points at the remaining officer. "Come with me. I need backup downtown." The officer glances at Ghost. Detective Marsh rolls his eyes. "He's fine." The officer nods, and they head off. 

"Sweetheart." Ghost croaked. You look at him. "Your hand." He gestures to your hand resting on his side. "Sorry." You quickly pick up your gloved hand and reach for the saline to clean his wound. 

"I forgot I had a case scheduled today with Dr. Raines." You look up at the nurses. “Will you two go assist her?" They both nod and head out the door.

"Gotta' lot of patients today, doc." Ghost lifted a brow as you applied some antiseptic. "I thought they would have remembered that Dr. Raines is on maternity leave." You give him a cheeky smile.

"Wow. Lyin' to your coworkers? How insensitive." He sarcastically remarks as you snicker. "I just...I needed to talk to you." You confess, applying a large bandage to his side.

"In private?" You look up at him after you finish putting the bandage on. "In private," you confirm, gently pressing the bandage around the edges to secure it onto his skin. 

"What?" He tilted his head, taking notice of your silence. 

"I hate seeing you like this." You look up at him. "All bruised up."

"I'm fine." He assures, which makes you let out a laugh.

He tilts his head. "What's so funny?"

"You've always been so stubborn," you remark, absently stroking his thumb. “You never let anyone help you. You always want to do things on your own, even if you can't."

"I let you help me." He lifts his finger to graze yours gently. "I know. I'm glad you did." You smile. "So, will you tell me why all the cops are interested in you?" You question, raising a brow. "No. I think I'll stay brooding." He quips. "Simon Riley, did you just make a joke?" You exclaim, making him let out a laugh. 

You both sat there for a moment, falling into a comfortable silence. You knew you most likely wouldn't see him again, and he knew the same. It's just how your relationship worked with him. You see him once in a blue moon, and then he disappears off the face of the earth for what feel like an eternity.

You loved Simon, and he loved you, but you both knew a relationship beyond what you had currently couldn't work, especially with him being God knows where with God knows who. There are too many trials and tribulations involved. It's better to keep it simple and one-dimensional, something Simon Riley is not. 

"I'll have the nurse fill out your discharge papers." You finally break the silence, gently squeezing his hand. He nods.

You don't know what possessed you, but you find yourself bending down to kiss him. He's quick to kiss you back. You pull back and head to the door, holding it open.

"Goodbye, Simon."

"Goodbye, Sweetheart."

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Cowboy Wolfstar Fic Recs

Cowboys have always been cool, and thankfully the number of cowboy AUs is growing! These are a few that I've found but reshare with links to more if you know them, please!

white snakeroot by @maladaptivewriting, something_about_mothman Storms are not uncommon in Remus’s sleepy rural town, what is unusual is spotting a cowboy riding through the rain and wind as if it didn’t touch them. The sightings of the mysterious cowboy have been plaguing Remus since he was a child, but after a chance encounter in one storm, Remus is suddenly flung into a nightmare that he’s not sure he’ll wake from. His friend, James, is missing and all signs point to a ghost town as James’s possible location. With nothing but the company of an old wive’s tale about dangers lurking in the town, Remus abandons his home to search for his friend. Unsure what he’ll find when he gets there, or if he’ll even make it home.

Drover by @krethes There he stands, leaning against the side of the wagon next to the remuda, their band of spare horses, casually picking dirt out from under his nails with the tip of a knife. He's just… watching him. He's dressed for the cold morning in the same brown coat they all wear this time of year, but it looks natural on him, like he was born in it. A small smile plays at the corner of his scar-slashed mouth, and heat floods Sirius face as memories of last night flood his mind, filtering through his groggy haze. OR: Cowboy Wolfstar. That's it. That's the fic.

The Ransom of Black Beauty by spaceboyharry He was whipping wind, humid summer rains, and the silent roll of heat lightning over Southern skies. He was a teeming school of red-breasted bream, a covey of quail in wild meadow-land, the roll of breath from Hagood’s snort on an early January morning. He was a herd of cattle thundering across a Texas plain, rope tight in my fist and thighs sure against my horse. He was hot, heavy, everything, everywhere, all at once. Remus and James need cash, and fast. A botched kidnapping scheme lands them in hot water, but Remus is willing to stand the flames to keep Sirius Black for his own.

Hell Outta Dodge -orphaned account In which Remus Lupin, Texas cowhand extraordinaire, stops to buy a drink from a saloon ran by a certain intriguing bartender.

stars are brighter in the countryside by @fromthetorturedpoet Most people would call him naive, even stupid, for leaving a place full of opportunities. However, as the days passed, he felt less and less comfortable in the environment he was trained to call home. Before he knew it, Sirius decided to venture into the countryside, diving into new friendships and a sweet relationship with a cowboy, capable of bringing him a sense of peace and tranquility he hadn't experienced in years.

The Road to Sweetwater by @euripidestrousers “Well. They don't call me Mad Sirius Black for nothing”, Black drawls lazily, “Speaking of drinks - you got any whiskey in your pack there or just old biscuits? Caught me talking politics and now my throat's awful dry.” Remus lifts his brow incredulously, disbelief creeping into his voice, “You must think I got a real short memory thinking you're owed a drink after that show back there. You clean forget you're at my mercy, and then go trying to steal my horse-” “Not in the habit of letting a man put me in the dirt without buying me a drink”, Black drawls, his grin turning sly, “Or maybe you got something else that'll make defeat a mite easier to swallow.” Sirius Black is wanted by the law in the state of Wyoming and Remus Lupin, who's still deciding which side of the law a bounty hunter sits on, captures him for the price on his head. It should be simple. But there's something in the air that Fall that sets Remus' compass spinning, and nothing seems simple anymore.

*Honorable Mention: Remus is NOT a cowboy in the following fic (I checked with the author) but he does work on a farm and he rides a horse, so I have to include it anyway:

Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands. Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you’re looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with an angel face ranch hand, his hippy mom, and a new dark haired stranger who was BETRAYED, WRONGFULLY IMPRISONED, AND OUT FOR REVENGE. Also they're both magic with animals. Guys Like Him by Aimee Nicole Walker 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Several heads swiveled in the blond’s direction as he walked by, but Finley seemed unaware of the attention. It stirred uncharacteristic feelings, making him want to mark and claim a man he didn’t even know.