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ktownshizzle · 3 months ago

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Wild & Free | Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Warnings: Mild angst, cursing lol, mentions of sex, pining and lots of it, reader is insecure, couple of idiots truly, covid didn’t happen, one mention of recreational gambling (we're in Vegas!), canon moments I botched for my own use, ginger Yoongi is a warning in and of itself, angry Yoongi, cliches ‘cos meh, possible inaccuracies about Las Vegas - been there once, but details used in the story are just from research. Also, I get that Las Vegas weddings might seem tacky to some. Coming from a background of traditional, elaborate ceremonies, the characters in this story are genuinely surprised by this simpler approach. After all, a wedding is really just about you and your partner, and that’s the essence we’re exploring here. ♡ If you can get on board with that, then let's head to the Tunnel of Love! Viva Las Vegas! 🙂

Word Count: 7.2k (approx. 30 mins.)

Posting date: August 31, 2024

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you.

On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Kim Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Min Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

It's great to finally get some down time with the crew. After such a fast-paced, high production tour, everybody needed to blow off some steam. This Korean BBQ restaurant off the Strip was the perfect venue to get the team together for samgyupsal and drinks. The vibes are, as the kids say, immaculate.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you almost accusingly.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you’re wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

Record scratch.

Did he really just-

Thankfully, you recover.

“Stop playing,” you say, trying to sound casual. But your face probably betrays the internal turmoil happening in your brain. You fear the day will come that he will have caught on to the unshakeable something you have been harboring for the better part of the last decade.

See, there’s always been an unspoken tension between you and Yoongi, something neither of you ever addressed or acted upon. Perhaps, in your younger days, there were moments when you felt your friendship was on the verge of becoming something more. But then he debuted as an idol, and things took off, and you were robbed of time. With his group’s growing popularity and you managing his personal career, the possibility of exploring anything beyond friendship and your work rapport became even more distant.

You feel like a bug under a microscope the way he observes you with a lopsided grin and while you try to hold his gaze, this clown interrupts.

"If y'all done eye-fucking each other, some of us are heading back." A drunk Park Jimin says with a mischievous grin, eyes crinkling like crescents. You could almost throw up.

Your eyes shift back to Yoongi and he just blinks in that blank way he does and bends to collect his bag from under his chair, completely ignoring his bandmate.

‘Fuck you,’ you mouth to Jimin hastily. Just enough time before Yoongi emerges with his backpack and your tote, which he already slung on his own shoulder.

You try to take it from him, but he waves you off.

"We're in bus 2," Jimin sings-songs and walks off, looking every bit the trouble-maker.

Thing is, you made the mistake of confiding in Jimin once, last year. You got drunk after getting dumped by some guy you met on Bumble three dates down, though it really was the sting of learning that Yoongi took one of Psy’s backup dancers out for coffee, even if it was just casual, that pushed you off the edge and into a bar in Hannam Intersection. Coincidentally, Jimin was there with that cute idol from Shinee and some other guys, but he joined you when he saw you looking like shit.

After learning about your long-standing crush (thank God you did not drop the L-bomb), Jimin would occasionally tease you, much to your chagrin. He’s careful not to push things too far, but it’s clear he sees himself as a bit of a cupid. You keep telling him that nothing will come of it, but he just won’t let up.

You are scared for things to change between you and Yoongi, not when everything is just how it’s supposed to be.

Not when you believe in your heart that if anything would have happened, it already should have.

And you would snuff the last embers of the torch that you keep holding out for him if only you knew how.

"Drive-thru weddings?" Yoongi enunciates in English, with the slightest lisp that you have always found so endearing. As your tour bus passes by chapel after wedding chapel, he continues to wonder out loud. "People get married there?"

Namjoon turns his head to look at Yoongi from his seat in front. "Yeah, hyung. They don't even need to get out of their car. It's just like a McDonald's. But they get a marriage license instead of a burger."

“Really? And people do this? Like, randomly?”

“Yeah, some celebrities decided to do it that way, but I assume many people do, too. I mean, look how many we’ve passed already.” Namjoon says with a tiny grin, cheek dimpling.

"Mm." Yoongi hums and you're curious about that faraway look on his face as he stares outside.

“Are you interested?” You joke lamely, instantly regretting opening your mouth. Why do you keep propositioning him? You blame that ‘one for the road’ shot of soju you downed on the way out of the restaurant.

He studies your face, before he replies lowly, so only you can hear, “Are you asking?”

Fuck, he’s bold. He’s also a bit drunk, but everyone knows he can drink anyone under the table. You know this is not the first time he got weirdly flirty with you after one too many drinks, so you take it in stride.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Hoseok's voice booms from the back and with a chorus of laughs ringing inside the vehicle, you take that as a sign that this is definitely just the effect of being in Sin City.

A few beats after and you steal a glance at Yoongi, finding his gaze transfixed at a sign that read: "The Little White Wedding Chapel".

Last day of the Las Vegas tour and while you are glad it is almost done, your heart aches as you remember that this is also your last one, ever. Your 60-day notice is already running, having tendered your resignation a month after LA wrapped up.

As great of a job as it is, your heart seems to always be at odds because of the lingering feelings you have for Yoongi. Everyday, you find yourself trapped in the limbo of unspoken feelings and missed chances. The endless “what ifs” weigh you down, and you can’t summon the courage to confront them. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own, and you hoped that stepping away from this life might jumpstart your next chapter, as BTS is also about to embark on theirs.

With the group taking a break for solo projects and gearing up for their military service, it seemed like the perfect moment for you to explore something different, too. Maybe finally open that cafe you’ve always wanted. Maybe you can also meet somebody, especially since your eomma has been on your back even more lately about giving her a grandchild.

You weren't planning to sever ties with Yoongi entirely, or at all. There’s too much history between you two to just walk away from the friendship. But you were desperate to let go of the emotional baggage.

The thing is, you have not told anyone. Not even Yoongi. Especially not Yoongi. It is highly likely that he will try to stop you and press for reasons, and you can't tell him that you’re in love with him, can you? Just… no. What a fuckin’ cliche.

You don’t know when you will be ready to tell him the truth, but it needs to be soon.

You find him on the side of the stage, eyes locked in on his phone that he held with one hand and you already can tell he is watching a documentary with the way his face is screwed up in concentration. His ‘watching a cat video’ face was infinitely more smiley, that's for sure.

He lifts his sleepy eyes up as you approach, handing you a latte that he apparently picked up for you from that place across the street, because the coffee from the catering ‘tastes like shit.’

Before you can say thanks, Yoongi exclaims, “Omo! Michael Jordan got married there?”

Your confusion must be written all over your face, because he quickly explains, “You know in one of those drive-thru wedding chapels we saw the other night. Wow. I can't believe Jordan did that.”

He pauses the video and turns the screen toward you, revealing a white building decked out with all sorts of decorations reminiscent of Valentine's day. The way he looks at you, expectantly, makes you feel like you should share his excitement, but you're a bit stumped. “Yoongi-ah, why are you watching this?”

He fidgets with a sheepish grin. “Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Korean weddings can be so complicated, you know? Hyung was really frustrated with all the traditions at his wedding.” He shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed but trying to stay casual. “Here, it seems like you just need the right person. And maybe some courage. Okay, a lot of courage. I just— I don’t know, I find it fascinating.”

He nods to himself, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Totally endeared, you hop to sit beside him on the stage, bump your shoulder with his, and say, “Go on, press play.”

The tiniest of frowns that has settled between his brows smoothes out and he angles the screen more towards you before resuming the video.

Turns out it really is fascinating (Omo! Joe Jonas also got married there! But wait, isn't he divorced now?), so you watch a few more clips, before soundcheck starts.

You’ve always known Yoongi to have massive hyperfixations. In fact, you’re not at all surprised when that night during the concert, he even cheekily says to the crowd during his ment, “Welcome to Las Vegas, with the drive-thru wedding.” And of course, the audience eats it up, those wearing Shooky headbands, veils or holding “Yoongi, marry me” signs end up being the loudest.

But while you’ve supported all his previous mini-obsessions (League of Legends, Dalgona coffee, woodworking) until he over-indulged to the point of almost flushing it out of his system, you are not quite sure how else to help him with this one.

Unless of course, you… hah, you wish.

The tour wraps up successfully. The boys have different group and individual schedules before they return to Seoul. For Yoongi, a shoot for his photofolio, and some b-roll content for his upcoming documentary was on deck for him, you, and his crew.

The drive up to the desert was pretty uneventful as mostly everyone was asleep. You arrive sometime in the afternoon and immediately get to work in order to catch the golden hour. Yoongi has disappeared into the makeup trailer and you busy yourself with checking the preps.

The theme was glamping. Though Yoongi would never admit that that was the concept he approved. He would most likely say something more deep and poetic, that the setting is a poignant portrayal of his growth as a person and a metaphorical exploration of his artistry… Or something like that.

Things were running a little later than you like, which always happens when you are doing shoots overseas, so you volunteer to help with the set design. Placing some of the props near the camper van, you take a second to decide whether to use the metal cup or the ceramic mug, when a sleepy voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Set looks great. Good job."

You turn your head to look at Yoongi and wow his hair is orange.

The color of his favorite citrus and of course he looks sexy as fuck. He smells phenomenal, too–like mandarins with a hint of spice. You are in so much trouble. Seems your mouth is filled with cotton the way you are unable to make a sound.

“Yah! I spent hours on this new hair, you're not going to say anything?” he whines with a small pout.

You snicker at his cute expression, reaching out to touch the ends of his hair very lightly else the glam team unnies might scold you. “You look like a cat.”

“Ugh,” he groans, walking away with what you now realize is a stick of marshmallows in his right hand.

“No, Yoongi, it's cute,” You follow him as he stops in front of the bonfire, roasting the marshmallows over it briefly before taking a bite, still not placated by your words.

You decide to put him out of his misery. “You look good. Like really good. ARMY would probably even say sexy.” You inwardly cringe at the last bit–using ARMY to voice out your inner thirst, really?

Nonetheless, Yoongi's reaction is priceless. His lips stretch into a thin line, chin dimpling as he pretends to not enjoy the compliment that he very well fished for.

“Ok quit acting like an emoji and let me take your photos for IG.” You take your phone out and snap a few pics of him posing with the marshmallow, some without it. A couple of him grinning, gummy smiles on display, and you know you need to keep some of these for yourself when the inevitable comes and you won't see his face everyday.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to his side, arm going around your shoulder. A whiff of his musk has you swooning which you hope he does not notice.

Your phone is taken. He snaps a few selfies of you both and tsks when he sees your lock screen.

“Tablo-hyung, still? You know he's literally married and has a kid, right?”

You make a face and snatch your phone from his grasp. “Yah! As if you're not an idol and your face is not the wallpaper of thousands of people.”

“I think you mean millions.”

“Ass.” You try to shove him, but his hand closes in on your phone again.

Swipes and taps later, he seems satisfied and your phone is handed back to you, before he walks off without so much as a goodbye.

What did he do?

Wait.

Tablo is gone.

And the tableau in his place is one of the photos you just took with him. Eyes twinkling, smiles identical. The picture of a seemingly perfect couple.

Oh, damn. You really are a goner.

You send the pic to Jimin a little later. His response was unwelcome.

Jimin: You two have literal heart eyes for each other. So cute.

You: Not helping.

Jimin: Just tell him how you feel.

You: Again, not helping.

Jimin: What's your plan?

You: Do you really wanna know?

You ring him. Might as well tell somebody.

In between layouts, Yoongi films interviews for some magazines. You have complete faith in him and his media relations skills at this point. Smart, thought-provoking Yoongi can wow any interviewer, sometimes to the point where numbers have been slipped inside his coat pocket. Thank God this one is on Zoom, ‘cause you can’t deal with something like that happening right now.

You caught wind of something that he said during the interview and you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Sometimes, it feels like my life is just a sequence of obligations and schedules,” he tells the online reporter. “I can’t even remember the last time I made plans for myself. Being here in Las Vegas is refreshing. It’s like everyone is just living by their own rules. I don’t think I’m like that at all.”

"Do you want to be like that?" The reporter asks.

"Maybe..." he shrugs, sinking a bit lower on the chair he was on.

It was late and the crew was just winding down before packing up the set.

“How was your day?” he asks you with a soft smile. You can see the tiredness in his eyes.

“Not bad,” you say, taking a spot beside him on the picnic blanket that was still on set. He seems pensive.

“Did you ever think we would get this far?” he asks. “Couple of Daegu kids, now running around in America.”

“Who would've thought…” you say, observing him. His eyes were stoic, but you know he's got something else on his mind, something bothering him.

“You said something in your interview earlier.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?”

“Not bad per se, I just never heard you say it in an interview before. About not feeling like you can make your own plans. Like life has become a series of schedules.”

He hums and takes a sip of something from the mug he is holding. Your nose tells you it is definitely not hot cocoa.

“I’ve come to terms with it for the most part, you know,” he sighs looking out into the vastness. “But plans are good. Makes me feel like there is a point to all this.”

You follow his line of vision and sigh. You knew he was feeling a lot of stress lately. His life was not easy. You hate that you have to pile on top of it.

“We need to start planning D-day soon. It's going to be so busy with the album and the tour and all the content we have to make. Oh God, we might have to do fan calls, but I'm so embarrassed when I do it.”

You mimic his hum, getting disoriented with his use of ‘we’. He still doesn't know that word would be null and void soon.

“By the way, we gotta come up with a different name for the Youtube show. I can't pronounce it. Sich? Sush? Shit-”

“Suchwita,” you say, guilt settling in your tummy.

“...and we have that collab with Halsey for what’s that game again? Doom? No, Diablo! We used to play that before, remember? I think we might be doing a music video for that one.”

Just tell him. This would be the best time.

“Look, Yoongi I-”

“Thank you,” he suddenly says, in a tone so soft, and the way he punctuates it with your name makes your heart soar.

Your eyes snap to him, the slight pinks dusting his cheeks make him look like the teenage boy you met in music school.

“I’m not good at this - fuck, this is so awkward - umm but I've really been meaning to tell you that I appreciate you.” He continues, “You're really important to me.”

You try to fight back a smile at how elated you are, but can’t. And maybe he needs to see how happy this is making you. How happy he is making you.

In the years that you've known him there were two distinct moments that made you believe that just as you have been in love with him, maybe he was in love with you, too. And as you watch him rub his crinkled nose, trying to act chill but can't, you somehow convince your fickle heart that this might be the third.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, with all this talk about our ‘chapter 2’...”

“Yeah?”

“I know things are going to change, but I’m glad you’re still here. I honestly don't know what I'm doing half the time, but you, you give me direction,” he smiles, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you seriously thanking me for my constant nagging?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “I’m thanking you for being my friend.”

Oh. Ouch.

His lips keep moving and moving, and he is saying things with a fond smile, but your ears can’t register a single word. Except that single word: friend. Because, that’s all he sees you as, and that’s all you’ll ever be, and lest you need a reminder, that’s why you did what you did.

Disappointment cracks through your core and your lungs are suddenly devoid of air and you feel the urgent need to step away.

“Sorry Yoongi, I- I have to go.”

“Huh?” The light in his face fades, replaced by a frown and confused eyes that are watching your every move.

“Wait, did I say something? Tell me what's wrong.”

Don’t cry. Shit. Don’t cry.

“I've nothing to tell you.”

You grimace at how stiff you sounded but before you can rectify anything, your feet take you to the nearest trailer. You close the door and drop to your knees as uncontrollable sobs rack your body.

You rein yourself in after a few minutes, wiping your tears on the back of your sleeve. You fish your phone out from your pocket, the photo on your lock screen twisting the knife lodged in your heart.

You ring the first person on your recent contacts.

“I can’t do it, Jiminah.”

“What happened? Talk to me.”

You tell him how you were just talking and it was getting deep then he got sentimental and said thank you…

“For being his friend.”

A beat, then Jimin finally speaks. “He is such an idiot.”

“I can’t do this,” you say, with finality. “I’m going to finish this tour, but I’m really leaving. I can’t be around Yoongi anymore.”

You finally get a couple of days off and decide to dodge Yoongi after coming back from the desert. It’s oddly easy—he’s not seeking you out like he usually does. You left him hanging the last time you talked, and now you’re stumped about how to fix things. You and Yoongi never really fight, at least not seriously. You handle work stuff through Kakao, like sending over today’s recording schedule for the award show. He left you on read.

Jimin immediately calls out for you as you step inside the set. It was just one of the penthouse suites in the hotel you were staying in. You feel awkward as some eyes shift over to you as you barely had time to fix yourself, you just aren't in the mood.

“Hi,” you respond simply. “How's everything?”

Jimin glances over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze to find Yoongi staring blankly at the coffee table, a face of thunder.

“He knows. He heard you on the phone with me.”

Your heart immediately drops to your ass. “Shit.”

Jimin shrugs, a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face. “Yeah, he’s pretty confused… and a little pissed.”

“Did you–”

“I would never,” Jimin interrupts quickly, holding up his hands. “It’s not my story to tell.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You’re not sure if Jimin’s optimism is comforting or just making you more anxious. You’ve spent years imagining every possible outcome, every scenario where he finds out you felt something deeper. And most of those scenarios end in heartbreak.

Either way, you know you’ve got to face the storm brewing in Yoongi’s eyes.

The shoot goes on without a hitch. You and Yoongi avoid each other like the plague, so much so that one of the makeup unnies takes notice. You downplay it, not wanting to be the subject of workplace gossip.

The schedule wraps up and as you get ready to leave, there is a light tap on your shoulder.

“Hey noona,” Jake says, looking a bit nervous but flashing a tentative smile. “Umm, a bunch of us are heading out tonight. If you don’t have plans, you should join us.”

Jake’s one of the newer camera guys, and while he’s been nice—always greeting you and opening doors—he’s barely scratched the surface of what could be considered a friend. He’s not just polite; he’s actually pretty cute. You’ve never really hung out with him before, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no. It was one of the last nights you have in Las Vegas, and maybe, you should live a little.

“Ok. What time are we leaving?”

“Can we meet at the lobby by 10?”

Just as you’re about to respond, there’s a loud crash from the other side of the room. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Jin amidst a flurry of crew members rushing over. Whatever happened, it looks like it’s already being dealt with.

“10?” you repeat, still distracted by the commotion.

He nods.

“Got it,” you reply, trying to shake off your unease.

Jake adjusts his backpack and gives you another nod, his smile still lingering as he heads out. “Cool. See you tonight.”

“Ok…” you nod, a little dazed as you watch Jake fistbump one of the producers on the way out.

“Hot date?” Jimin appears out of nowhere, casually sipping his Americano. His grin is a little too knowing—clearly, he was eavesdropping.

“Not really. He just mentioned that a few people were planning to go clubbing and asked if I wanted to join.”

Jimin’s eyes light up. “So, he wouldn’t mind if we tagged along, right?”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

Yoongi lifts his wine glass at you, smiling and unbothered.

Is this him extending an olive branch?

“Hey, Danbi, Eunchae…” he says, his gaze drifting past you to the two girls from Design. They look momentarily stunned, then offer hesitant waves, clearly not accustomed to this rare gesture from the usually wordless Yoongi.

Seriously?

This asshole.

A knot of frustration tightens in your stomach. Not only is he acting like nothing happened, but he’s also playing it cool, like he’s completely unaware of how much this is getting under your skin.

You’re sad, but now you’re kinda pissed, too. And the worst part of it all, he knows he looks fine.

Ginger hair slicked back to reveal the fresh undercut, He’s wearing some black shirt and black pants, with Jordans you would guess, and you know if it was any other man wearing that, he would have been stopped at the door.

You shift the strap of your dress slightly, conscious under his taunting eyes. The little number was something hot you recently picked up, the kind that might end up on somebody's floor.

“Are you going over to them,” Jake asks casually, leaning closer to your ear.

“No,” you say, breaking eye contact with Yoongi and moving to the next table where the others were, with Jake following closely behind.

A chorus of hellos started as you reached the table. There were a couple of girls from Hair and Makeup and some of the videographers, too. As if on cue, a tray of colorful shots are suddenly placed on the center console. The night is about to begin.

Jake has been incredibly attentive so far, but the truth is, it’s someone else’s attention that you want. You are hyper aware of Yoongi’s presence and it’s like having an itch you couldn’t scratch.

You spot Yoongi by the bar, alone and absorbed in his own world. As usual, he's oblivious to the pair of women casting lingering glances in his direction.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and make your way towards him. You notice his shoulders tense and stiffen as you approach, a clear sign of his unease, which almost made you want to retreat. But you know you can't go on another day of this unresolved tension with him.

“Yoongi, can we talk?”

He looks up, smirking as he swirls his drink. “Nah.”

Alright. You were not expecting that.

“Look, I just wanna explain–”

“It’s cool. You don’t have to,” he cuts you off, his voice casual but his eyes fixed stubbornly on the lowball glass he’s holding.

“But I–”

“You don't wanna be around me anymore, simple. Dunno why you're here.”

“Wait, Yoongi, you don't understand.”

“Don't understand? You never told me shit.” You notice how his fists are clenched, knuckles turning white. “I would have apologized if I did something wrong. Thought you knew that. Thought we were friends.”

It’s that word again. You chuckle bitterly. “Friends, I know. You keep saying that.”

At this he looks up at you, brows furrowed, but it was your turn to avert your gaze.

“‘Kay. You're leaving anyway, right? You can start now.”

“Fine.”

“Bye.”

You take a few steps, but something tugs at you, pulling you back. You glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch him watching you leave, wishing he’d somehow intervene, stop you from walking away.

But he isn’t there. His chair is already empty, the space where he sat now as vacant as if he’d never been there at all.

No one knows you better than Yoongi, and apparently no one else can hurt you quite like him, too.

The night is young. The club is electric. It is the hottest spot in town and you are hell-bent to experience it to the max.

Spirits and sugary shots tempered the hurt that settled in your gut after your encounter with Yoongi, now replaced with an urge to forget, to almost rebel.

The dance floor becomes your sanctuary. Shots of sweet, potent liquor flow, loosening you up and syncing your movements with the music. The crowd sways around you, a sea of bodies, but Jake remains a constant anchor.

His hands rest confidently on your stomach, your back pressed against his chest as you grind slowly against him. With one arm raised, you hook your hand around his neck, letting your bodies move in perfect rhythm. It's been a while since you let yourself go like this, but it's Vegas, after all.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so sexy, noona.”

“Wanna get out of here?” The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop you.

Jake's eyes widen slightly, but he nods, quite enthusiastically actually, and you think: fuck it, he's cute and you are leaving the company anyway.

Disappointingly, the heat between you and Jake cools with every passing second as you make your way back to the hotel. Yet, you cling to the idea of seeing it through, driven by the need to prove a point: that a) your life doesn't revolve around Min Yoongi; and b) you are attractive and can pull anyone, even if Min Yoongi does not want you.

In another world, this would be a whirlwind of clothes flying off, bodies pressed against walls, hands exploring with urgency. But instead, you both enter the hotel room in silence, the air heavy with a tension that contrasts sharply with the passionate encounter you’d hoped for. The quietness between you feels like a stark reminder of how far you are from the fantasy you envisioned.

Jake notices the maze of thoughts you were lost in.

“Noona,” he says, placing his jacket over the arm of the couch. “Are you sure you want this?”

Want. It was hard to stitch words as a response to that. Not when your heart has only wanted one person for years.

To be fair you do want Jake in your bed tonight. Objectively, he is super attractive - his soft, wavy hair, those wide, doe eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass.

No time to waste. You turn to him, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it slip to the floor. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes, yes, it does,” he walks in long strides over to you, yanking up his shirt in one fell swoop, revealing his toned stomach.

His hands cup your face and soon you feel his lips against your… neck? Ok, you can get into this. It’s not like you hate it.

He spends a few moments kissing you there. You close your eyes, willing your brain to shut off and just be in the moment.

“Can I touch you here?” One of his hands ghosts the side of your rib, inching towards the underside of your breast.

But before you can answer, loud knocks pound at your door.

“What the hell?” You hastily pull up your dress, zipping it up quickly. The furious raps continue and you can hear a voice behind it.

Jake follows you as you head to the door, picking up his tee from the floor and pulling it over his torso.

Bothered at the urgent banging, you don’t think to view the peep hole as you swing the door open, revealing

“Yoongi?” you squeak.

“Get out.” Eyes bloodshot, he strides past you and goes for Jake, who quickly tries to side-step him, moving a few steps back to create distance between them.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jake's eyes, wide as saucers, go to his elder then to you, before a realization dawns on him. “They said you weren't– Fuck, I swear I really thought–.”

"Get. Out." His voice is cold, laced with a fury you’ve never heard from him before. He grabs Jake by the arm, practically shoving him toward the door.

Jake casts a pitiful glance back, mumbling, "Sorry, noona," even though he’s done nothing wrong. But you don’t see it. Your hands are covering your face, trying to shield yourself from the shock and shame crashing over you as the scene unfolds.

“Fuck off, kid.”

And then the door slams shut.

Yoongi paces the room like a caged animal, his hand raking through his sweaty hair in frustration. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged, as if he’s on the verge of losing control.

You finally find your voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just barge in my room like that!”

“I just did,” he fires back. “Why are you with him?”

“It's none of your business. But since you really wanna know. I was about ready to fuck him.”

He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. “Did he touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

His hand shakes as he drags it through his hair again, his frustration barely contained. “Did you want him to?”

You can't understand why he’s asking these questions, why he’s reacting like this.

“Yoongi,” you exhale heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi likes being in Las Vegas. The city buzzes with an electric energy, a stark contrast to his own chill demeanor. It’s a place where neon lights flash all night, and the unpredictable atmosphere makes him feel like a fish out of water—a thrilling kind of discomfort. He doesn't get why a city so loud and chaotic captivates him, but it does.

He was never one for outlandish, over-the-top spectacles, but the Cirque du Soleil show he watched with you and Hobi the other night instantly became one of his favorites.

He never liked recreational gambling, but the way you lit up with joy and hugged him tight after winning just 20 bucks at a random slot machine—it’s now one of his most cherished memories.

He never fared well in big, buffet restaurants, but if it means hearing you shout “Yoongi, carry meeee” (so stupid) as you beg him for a piggy back ride after downing five heaping plates, then maybe he can start looking up some buffets back home, too.

Las Vegas is free. Las Vegas is wild. Min Yoongi is not.

At least, not until that night when he tore past wild and plunged into nothing short of primal.

Straight out of a segment from The Animal Planet, he was a tiger, lounging contentedly with his pack. You were his queen, his chosen mate—though you don’t know it yet. But when a looming threat emerges, the alpha in him awakens, tapping into ancient survival instincts to protect what’s his.

First, he observed the threat.

Some guy from production. Jake. He’s HYBE's new ace videographer from Australia. Isn’t he younger than her?

Oh shit, this was the dude Yoongi actually handpicked to be the director of photography for his documentary. He might have to rethink this, depending on how things play out.

Fucker has his hand on your back and you shift subtly so his hand falls away. This is good, you don’t seem to be too into his advances, Yoongi tells himself, relaxing slightly on his chair.

Second, he assessed the situation.

Unfortunately for him, the situation escalated quickly.

Never in his life has he ever wanted to gouge his eyes out so badly. If he could actually shove his fingers in his eye sockets and scoop his eyeballs from his skull he would have done it right then. Yet somehow he couldn't look away. There was a sick, sadistic pleasure in watching you lose yourself on the dance floor. Like a voyeur, he stared, mouth slightly parted, breathless as your body grinds in time with the bass. He didn’t want to acknowledge the other man in the picture, the one that wasn’t him.

“You’re drooling, hyung,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin erupts in a fit of giggles, almost falling out of the bar stool.

Yoongi wants to deny it. But between the ache in his heart and the boner in his pants, he did not have it in him to lie. “Pass me a napkin, dipshit.”

Third, he sensed danger.

Unfortunately again, he had to use the toilet at some point. And as he returns to his spot on the balcony, he panics.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Jimin looked at him, warily. “They left.”

No, he thought. No, no, no they’re not leaving this club. They are not leaving his sight.

Fourth, he took decisive action.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body spurring him to run out the door, his phone on his ear as he tries to reach his driver.

“Hyung, stop.” Jimin runs to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“You know where.”

“Why?”

His head is pounding. He cannot think straight. And Jimin asking so many questions is so fucking annoying.

“You know why.”

Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you idiots just talk about this like normal people?”

He doesn’t answer his friend, but he knows Jimin will be coming with him, whether he likes it or not. Because Jimin, nosy as he may be, is also one of the last real ones in his life.

Fifth, he confronts the threat head-on.

Which has brought him here, in your room, acting like the unhinged motherfucker he never aspired to be.

Your stern voice shakes him from his thoughts. “If you’re just going to stand there, just get outta here, Yoongi.”

“No.”

“No?” you let out a huff, a bitter sound cutting him. “You got some fuckin’ nerve. You ask me all sorts of questions, but you can't answer mine, huh?”

He has never seen this look in your eyes, and he starts to regret the hasty decision to come to your room.

Now, he was confronted with the first and very real possibility of you walking out of his life.

“Again, why are you here?” you ask, your voice a notch softer than it should be. It’s clear you’re exhausted, your tear-filled eyes an indication, wanting nothing more than for everything to make sense.

He cautiously pads towards you and gently reaches out for your hand. To his relief, you let him take it and he envelops it in both of his.

He takes one good look at you, committing your face to memory, because in his mind, this could be the point where your friendship ends.

He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes for a moment, before a confession finally spills from his lips. “Because I can't lose you.”

You blink and a lone tear spills free.

“I heard you on the phone with Jimin and what you said broke me. I keep thinking what I did wrong, but I can't figure it out. Then I saw you with that guy and I lost my shit. You know I'm terrible at expressing myself, but I need you, ok? More than I can say. Don't go. I can’t let you go.” He tugs you gently towards him, encasing you in his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest, and he is certain you can finally hear his heart that beats only for you. How he wishes he can summon the courage to say so. But the moment feels so delicate and he wants to tread lightly.

“Yoongi…” you sigh out his name and his heart races at how tenderly you seem to have surrendered to him.

“I’m so sorry that I was such a dick to you. Didn’t mean to ice you out. Honestly, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

“What is it that you want, then?”

“This.” He tightened his arms a tad against your frame to make a point, before pulling his head back, just enough to be able to see your eyes when he says, “You.”

Your breath hitches and he is unable to read the expression in your face. Was it just shock? Was it dismay? A slight panic bubbles in his throat. Did he misread the signs? Did he just blow it? But you felt so pliant under his touch, you still do. So he had to ask, even if your response might just end him.

“Y-you don’t want this?”

“No, I do, I do,” you say, almost too quickly, nibbling on your bottom lip afterwards. His thumb goes to caress your cheek, and you lean slightly into his touch.

‘Fuckin’ do something,’ his brain screams at him, the way it has for years now.

So many words are still unspoken between you two, but as he looks at the affection and the want in your eyes, he decides–fuck it, you can talk later.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he finally admits, his voice low but steady. "Is that okay?"

You nod, but hesitate. "I’m just—” you place a hand on his shoulder, as if to anchor yourself on him. “I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

He lets out a breath, a smile playing on his lips as he sees yours curve into a shy grin.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he murmurs as he closes the gap, his lips almost grazing yours.

“I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Yoongi.” Your nose nudges his, inviting him to make the next move.

“You were never just a friend,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

“And after this,” you say, moving your hands to the back of his neck, “I might want you all to myself.”

His lips brush against yours, featherlight. It’s barely a kiss, just a fleeting touch, but it leaves you both craving more.

“Baby,” he breathes, “I’m already yours.”

A/N: What do we think??? Feedback is appreciated! Do we hear wedding bells, or nah? See you in Part Two! 🙂

Tag: @tea4sykes @mggv97 @jajabro @yooglefics @codeinebelle @tinytan-gerine @comingupwithacoolnameishard @dontcribuyabag @mizz-kraziii @angelfuzzy2 @marnz1990 @speedyhandsbonkpalace @amarawayne @coffeedepressionsoup @little-cherry01 @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @lolpanda94 @parapiop7 @wobblewobble822 @dazzlingjade @storyofafangirl @yoongrace @mzbtsreads

Thank you so much for reading, you beautiful human! xo

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic

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tinydefector · 3 months ago

Note

Ok ok i thought about this and for me it's sounds funny.

Sooo on the comic where everyone just found out that Rung is god you know where Rodimus, Rachet, Whirl and Tyrest and others having existing crisis and the part where Whirl said "God was my therapist" and then I thought about it, how funny it would be if cybertronian or human MC/reader said something like "I was fuck by said God" like if said cybertronian/human was in relationship with Rung and everyone reaction (plus Tyrest too since I think he's a god fanatic) 😂😂😂😂

XD omg so I had a bit of a joke piece about fucking God over in this fic. But it gets even better that thought of Tyrest being a God fanatic and hating Organics. The horror when he finds out Primus is with a human, watch this mech just break down.

Everyone's optics and eyes are on Rung, and the mech stands there wishing attention wasn't on him. Rodimus paces back and forth, Ratchet just stares off into a wall wish above all he wasn't here right now. Whirl, for the first time, is so quiet that it makes everyone so uncomfortable. And then there was the human just looking up at Rung in shock, dismay? They really didn't know how they felt in that moment.

Rodimus finally speaks. "OK, ok, but how the Frag!, Your Primus! All this time, you have just been what? Hiding on cybertron, having a vacation!" He asked. He was bitter about this, as much as he wanted to blame Rung for everything, cybertron falling apart, his home, and the matrix in truth it wasn't his fault. After all wasn't he doing the exact same thing, running away because he didn't want to be a prime, he wasn't suited for it, he didn't want to live in Optimus' shadow and have that shame over him. He'd take being co captain with Megatron over having to be in Optimus' shadow any cycle.

Ratchet, on the other hand, just wants a strong drink. He had never been a believe in gods, yet here he was finding out the the mech who had been the Lost Light's therapist, had been a neutral throughout the war, had a space ship collection older then some mechs was Primus. It was just his luck. "Does anyone else know?" He asked, trying to be the level-headed one of the group.

Rung removes his glasses, and the stress and exhaustion are very visible on his faceplate. "Drift, I believe, he's, he's always suspected something," Rung explains. He wasn't sure, but he's rather sure that Drift knows what he is.

Whirl finally laughs. "This is Fragged. How in the Pit did I end up this fragging, unlucky that my slagging therapist is Fragging Primus!" They shout, they don't know if they are angry, hurt or just overwhelmed, so much had been fried in their circuitry after the Emputra but this, this felt like a sick joke. All the things he had told Rung now feel like they were confessions.

Tyrest is baffled. He doesn't know whether to fall to his knees or call blasphemy, but the evidence is right there in front of his optics.

Rung is sheepish as he looks to the human. He's hoping they don't hate him. "I know this is alot for you all to take in, I'm sorry you all had to find out this way, I'm sincerely sorry for everything that has happened" He calls out to the group. He goes to continue only to be cut off.

"Fuck my life, Swerve is never going to let me live this down" the human stammers out. Everyone's optics are on them, a flush tints Rungs plating. "Please we don't need to bring that-" He's cut off again.

"The fact that I've unknowingly been getting Railed by Primus!" They exclaim only for Rung to hide behind one of his servos as multiple mech's Jaws drop at those words.

"HAH, and i thought I was Fragged!" Whirl screeched, finding humour in the situation. The other mechs look just as shocked and disgusted. "No, I refuse. That's blasphemy. Please tell me you haven't been interfacing with an organic!" Tyrest almost pleaded, hoping by the all spark that it wasn't true.

Rodimus pinches his brow ridge. He could feel his processor hurting from all this information. "Slagging Pit," he grumbles. " I Owe Sunstreaker so much Shainx now," he huffs. "OK, ok. Rung's Primus, and he's fragging a human." He throws his servos up in the air, being overly dramatic.

Ratchet just glares at the two. "They both of you are to report to medical for an examination after this, You" he points right at Rung. " I have some rather choice words for you," he states before stalking off, leaving.

The human looks at the floor, and the true panic is taking over. "Oh fuck, I've been fucking an Alien God who's also my therapist" they mutter to themself, tears starting to well up in their eyes and Rung kneels down cupping their face and wiping the tears away. "I didn't mean to upset you," he says softly. Optics focused on them. " I don't want this to change anything between us. You mean a great deal to me, and I don't want to lose you," he murmurs to them, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

The sound of the others arguing and fighting drowns out as Rung focuses on his little lover. "I'm not angry, Rung, Primus, or whatever name you want to go by, but... but I'm a human, a random fucking human so why me. Why me? " they nearly sob as he scoops them up, pulling them against his frame.

"My dear, I'm the the holy being everyone believes I am, I'm just a very old mech, who did what he could to stop something bad from happening, alot fo the tales told are very twisted stories. I'm just a mech, I'm not some holy being. And as for why you. You were the first person to remember my name, you took an interest in my hobbies, I would have happily faded into dust unknown but you choose me" he coos softly. Digits tracing their cheeks as he looks at them in pure love.

"But an Organic!" Tyrest hisses out as he watches how sweet and tender Rung is with the human. Is Rodimus who speaks up next. "Ah ah, remember each time to talk badly about organic races you lose Shanix which goes right into my account!~" Rodimus sings out, trying to make light of the situation for his own mental stability.

"You two are fragged and Slag, and I thought I had issues!" Whirl huffs before pointing at Rung. "Not a word about our therapy session to anyone, God or not, I will end you." Whirl nearly snarls before transforming and taking off.

"But you are Primus! You could have your choice of any cybertronian, pillars in your name cities, why have you hidden for so long!" Tyrest utters, he wants to be angry, but at the same time, this was Primus. How could he.

Rung meets his optics. "Because that's not the type of mech I am, I did what I had to to stop Unicron, I got sick of people trying to put me on a pedestal, I wanted to live, live my life, to enjoy hobbies, travel, I gave up my old frame for the ability to live" he states. He wouldn't change his choices even if he had the ability to. He was content.

________

MC: "Swerve get me a strong drink!"

Swerve: "heya what got you so rilled up, partner problems? Give me all the juicy details."

MC: staring him dead in the optics. "Swerve, Rung is Primus"

Swerve: "Well, I wouldn't call him that, I mean, he must be a good frag but doubt that"

MC: "No Swerve, Rung is Primus, I've been fucking your God, why me, how did I get to this point"

Swerve: "you know what let me get you a double"

Rung: "this is a mess, I need to get myself a Therapist"

Swerve: "well doc tell me all your woos, I'm the closest your gonna get for therapy"

Rung: " ships having a meltdown over my past and the fact I'm with a human"

Swerve: " eh, heard worse, your squishy things your Primus"

Rung: " yes, well that's also part of the issue"

---

Whirl: "soo.... Rung huh?"

Mc: "Please, I don't want to talk about it"

Whirl: "What part, the part where you're fragging the ships Therapist or the part where your Fragging Primus."

MC: "Oh my fucking God Whirl!"

Whirl: "Ah, ah, your fucking my God not the other way round!"

---

MC: "fuck you Tyrest, you owe Rodimus more money now, from being a Xenophobe."

Tyrest: "Like, I would ever let you within five meters of my frame you disgusting little creatin. Your insults mean nothing to me. Filthy little flesh thing"

MC: " just remember it's your Beloved Primus who's fragging me!, yea!, your beloved God prefers fragging me!"

Tyrest: *the most horrified noise ever* " You take the Blastphamy Back!"

__________

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yan-lorkai · 8 months ago

Note

Can we please have some hcs or oneshot where Yuu works at Mostro Lounge and has to deal with a difficult costumer? How would the octotrio react if said costumer tried to hit or insult Yuu? Platonically or romantic it's funny btw, thanks!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I was indecisive between platonic or romantic so I left ambiguous. I hope u enjoy, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, Floyd beating a random and reader knowing about their yandere tendencies but liking nonetheless.

A death wish. This customer has a death wish, holding you by the collar of your shirt while he glares right at you as a predator to his prey. You aren't a prey though, not that he knows this.

You look down, his blazer wet from the drink you purposely spilled on it because he was an annoying asshole. He looks angry or something but you don't care. Instead you focus on the reaction of your co-workers, some tremble knowing what's coming, others running to get Jade and Floyd. You almost can't wait.

"Sir," You smiled how Jade taught you. Sweet, disarmingly. Your fingers coming around to hold his wrist. "I apologize for this little accident. Though if you insist on being violent there will be consequences."

"Yeah and? Those idiot eels can't save ya now. I only need a second to mess your face!" He snorted, unable to stop the toothy grin from dominating his smug face. He was dumb, and oh so fascinating, you almost wished to study his brain but you knew not much would rest of him when your tweels got him.

He slapped you on your face hard enough that it send you stumbling to the ground, his hand already reaching for his magic pen, its tip lit by flames so bright your skin screamed. So hot, unbearably so, like fire. “You are nothing but a mere employee, you should know the customer is always right."

He was ready to strike you with all his might when a strong hand landed on his shoulder. It's was Floyd. The usual smiley eel was frowning now but a dark glint was raising on his eyes, mischievous, evil. He used to look at you like that when you used to tell him to leave you alone, though he was obviously more softer when roughhousing with you. With this customer though?

"Are you alright, my pearl?" Jade asks, helping you stand up and searching for injuries. But you assure him you're fine with a nod of your head, feeling if anything a little tired. It was so noisy today. And you were kind used to dealing with these type of costumers, used to see the punishments and then getting coddled by your favorite trio.

"Mind accompany me to Azul's office?" Jade offered you his arms which you accepted but still didn't move an inch. A smug smile now on your lips as the customer who was arguing with you now shaked under Floyd's stare. As he should.

"Destroy him," you said to him, eyeing the customer who pushed you. "and be quick, Floyd darling."

Then you walked to Azul's office, ignoring Floyd's laugh and the sounds of his fists hitting the other guy's face. You were used to things like that happening frequently but it did bother you that this was the only way for people to behave. The only way to correct their behavior, as this wasn't gonna happen if he wasn't harassing you and making uncomfortable comments about you.

The screams of pain and the smell of something burning was all you kept in your mind as you sat in Azul's office, Jade putting a glass of water on your hands for you to drink before seating by your side.

"Unbelievable," Azul looked at you, at your uniform crumpled. He stood up from his usual spot and held your face on his hands, so sofly, so lovingly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I can't leave you alone one minute, angelfish, look what he did to you!"

He pressed on a small scratch in your cheeks, swelled and hurting, it made you wince and Azul was not happy with it. You could see him planning something. Planning a revenge against that guy.

"Floyd better off him for touching you." Jade said, cleaning the scratch gently. "If he don't, perhaps I'll have something to nimble on later."

You laughed. They were overprotective of you, they were before, they are now. You kinda like it. You like their gentleness, the softness, the slow dancing with Azul when he didn't have a new victim to trick, cooking with Floyd and splashing water on Jade while you wash the dishes. The simple moments with them were precious, each and every single one. And of course you knew about their dark side, could see it as clear as day but you accepted them nevertheless.

As if you have a choice. You knew about the house they built underwater, decorated how you like, full of things you loved. You knew a lot of things even if you pretended you don't.

After making sure you weren't hurt and that everything was fine, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you guys, you know that?"

Azul hummed, exhaling in your scent as Jade leaned in to kiss your unharmed cheek. You knew they were swearing and angry at themselves to let you be alone out there, Jade and Azul stared at each other as if exchanging guilt and you didn't want them to feel like this. You held each of them their hand and squeezed both hard enough to get their attention.

"We should go out and do something," you suggested tiredly but your eyes lighted up with excitement with the prospect of doing something with your favorite trio. But before any plans could be made, Floyd barged into the office, his once-white shirt now stained crimson. As he always did, a wide grin stretched across his face, sending shivers down your spine.

As Floyd entered, we could see he was carrying a battered bag in one hand and clutching his side with the other. "He won't bother you anymore, Shrimp. I've made sure of it, ehehe."

Before anyone could respond, Floyd started recounting what he did in great detail, how he punched and squeezed and how the guy screamed. He throw himself in your lap mid-tale, wrapping his arms around your tummy. "Oi, shrimp pet my head." He asked.

And you did, combing through his strands delicately while he continued rambling. "And then I've dragged him outta here and told him not to come back."

"Thank you," you said to him. Then turned to Jade and Azul "and you two too!"

You didn't need to be comforted but their gesture was so sweet. If you have those three with you, you guess that you're going to be fine. Though you do wonder, would they laugh if they found out you did this on purpose? You can only imagine their answer as you wasn't planning to tell them.

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choiseungcheolprincess · 6 months ago

Text

More Than Friends// Choi Seungcheol

Bestfriend!Choi Seungcheolxafab!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You've been best friends for years. You can't imagine life without him. You don't know when the lines blurred, but you start to wonder are you the only one who feels this way?

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warning: Spit play, Praising, Fingering, Oral Use of nicknames (good girl, princess, baby girl)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

A/N: Helloooo! Enjoy, like, and repost whatever you feel is right!- Cherry 🍒

I've been friends with Seungcheol for a while. He's been there for me when I needed him the most after the conversation at his apartment. The guy just finished practicing and wanted to eat and have drinks. Cheol called me and asked if I wanted to join them. I said yes of course. We were all sitting there listening to the stories of how Hoshi is intimidating while practicing for this comeback. I got up to get some food until Cheol stopped me and made me sit back down and made me a plate of food.

"You guys operate like a couple," Jeonghan said sipping his beer. Everyone hummed agreeance. Seungkwan looked at me.

"Your friendship dynamic changed. All we are saying is something changed."

"What if you guys are soul mates!" Soonyoung said. I laughed

"What is it with you and the soulmates theory Soonyoung?"

"I mean everyone has one, platonic or romantic. What if you and Seungcheol Hyung are romantic soulmates"

"Ignore him he's drunk," Mingyu said

"Am not!" Soonyoung said pouting then turning to Wonwoo to kiss him. Wonwoo just patted him on the head.

No one said anything else, I knew they were right. I just don't know what happened to make the lines blurred. Was it before or after I found out my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me? That was six months ago:

Me and my boyfriend were supposed to meet up for a date until he canceled on me. He said he had a bad day at work so I decided to go to his house and cook him some food. That was until I got to his apartment only to find him in bed with a co-worker. Heartbroken and unable to see through the tears. I called Cheol who immediately came to get me. Of course, my ex-boyfriend follows me out of the building at the exact time Cheol is pulling up and getting out of the car.

"Oh of course you call him! You can't get mad at me for cheating when something is going on between you too!" He shouted out. Cheol helped me get into the car and then turned around to face the pathetic excuse of a man. I don't know exactly what was said, but seeing Cheol angry was not something you see all the time, but when he is. It's scary. After watching my ex-boyfriend's face change Cheol walked away and got into the car without saying a word and drove off. Playing with my bracelet trying to calm down, Cheol grabbed my hand and glanced over.

"Are you okay, Princess?" He said softly. I shrugged. He pulled into an empty parking lot when tears began running down my face unbuckling his seat beat then leaned his seat back

"Cheol what are you doing?" I questioned he just ignored me, picking me up and over the center console and onto his lap allowing me to cry in his shirt, which was white.

"Your shirt has makeup all on it," I said, sniffing.

"I don't care, you need someone to cry on, and I'm here. If you care so much I'll take it off" He said I hit his shoulder making him laugh. One of his hands was placed on my back and the other was running through my hair. When I was done crying I got back into the passenger side, laughing at the stain on his shirt.

"I'm sorry, about your shirts Cheollie" He looked down seeing the light stain on his shirt. He just laughed along with me.

"Let's get some food and you can stay at mine tonight," He said I nodded.

"Sounds good"

Was that when everything changed? Or was it always like that and I just just just noticed now? Cheol's always been affectionate. His love language is gift-giving and physical touch. He does it with everyone. Was it when your boyfriend forgot your birthday and didn't show up to your dinner but Cheol made sure that you knew he remembered? Especially when he pulled out the jewelry box

"Happy Birthday Y/n" The open box in front of me showed a pinky ring. It was white gold and wrapped in white and pink diamonds.

"S-seungcheol..." I whispered he just smiled at me gently taking the ring out of the box and sitting next to me tilting the ring a little so I could see the engraving on the inside 'To my princess, my best friend Y/N' and grabbing my hand to the ring on my pinky

"Y/N-ah, You are one of my best friends. You have seen me at my best and my worst. When you heard of my injury you dropped everything just to be by my side. You ensured I wasn't lonely when everyone went on Nana's tour and I thank you for that. I can never repay you for everything you did for me, but I hope this is a start."

I was playing with the ring on my pinky. Seungcheol comes back with food. I was placing it on the table in front of us. He handed me some chopsticks.

"I thought we could share if that's okay" He whispered as I nodded, smiling a little. He sat down next to me. Still, all in my head, he nudges my arm with his shoulder

“You okay?” He asked me, I just looked at him. When did I start looking at him differently, why haven’t I recognized my feelings for him?

“Y/n?” I snapped out of my thoughts. I was leaning forward to take a bite of the tteokbokki.

“Mmm, good,” I said, covering my mouth and chewing. Glaring at Jeonghan and Shua who were laughing.

I ate in silence. I was listening to how excited they were about their comeback.

“You should do the challenge!”I froze about to eat the pork belly then laughed and shook my head.

“No way I seen the footwork and there’s no way I can do that” I watched the video of the choreography and the break dance at the end of the song is insane.

“You can do the bridge,” Seungcheol said they all nodded agreeing with what he said. I would deny it until he looked at me, pleading with his eyes.

“Okay, teach it to me?” I said looking at him, his eyes softened and he nodded. I smiled taking a sip of water. One by one everyone started to leave. First Soonyoung and Seungkwan. Shua next, Jihoon soon after. Vernon, Seokmin, and Minghao, and Junhu. Mingyu and Wonwoo left after they finished their last beer. Jeonghan and Chan were left. Jeonghan looked at Chan who was in his own world at this point and got up Helping the younger and the drunker one up.

“I’m gonna make sure he gets to his bed,” Jeonghan said leaving me alone with Cheol. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment until he looked at me.

“You staying the night?” He asked I thought about it for a second then nodded.

“Can I borrow a shirt?’ I said getting up and walking to his room. Knowing he’ll say yes. I went into his closet and grabbed a shirt, then went to take a shower. After I took a shower, I dried off and put on the shirt. I left the bathroom and found him sitting in the living room. As often as I spent the night in Cheol's apartment, you think I would have extra clothes over here. The only clothes I have are actual day clothes, and undergarments not pajamas, simply because I like wearing his shirts they are big and comfortable.

“Movie?” I asked

“You pick?” He said.

“I was gonna tell you to pick” I grabbed the remote, turning the TV on. We both sat down after we cleaned up scrolling through Netflix trying to decide on a movie.

“Hmmm, do we have to watch a movie?” I asked not finding anything interesting enough to watch and taking the remote from my hands and clicking on the TV Show category.

“Have you started watching Bridgerton?” He asked glancing over at me.

“Have you?” I said laughing

“You know that the only reason I’d watch this is with you,” He said pressing select and starting the first episode of season 3. We sat in silence, Cheol grabbed my legs and rested them on his lap. Running his hand up and my calf I felt my heart flutter as his finger traced circles on my skin. Eyes focused on the screen. I couldn’t focus on the show anymore, my mind drifted as I felt the warmth of his hands. I felt myself getting turned on as I watched his eyes move up and down my body. I knew I had to stop this, but I couldn't move away. Episode one is finished now on episode two Halfway through the episode you looked at Cheol.

‘Tell him..’ a voice inside my head whispered

“Cheol?” I said making him over at me.

“Hmm?” He said still rubbing my leg.

I can do this! I CAN do this right?

It was the end of the episode and Colin and Pen kissed. I glanced over at Seungcheol who was looking at me.

“What’s wrong, you’ve been quiet ever since I bought the food out.” He asked I shook my head the words stuck in my throat. I can do this. I guess.

“Cheol, I-” I took a deep breath pulling my legs off of him and moving closer to him. He looked concerned. I was playing with the ring on my pinky again.

“Princess? What’s going on?” He said grabbing my hands. I looked at him biting my lip. Closing my eyes.

“Seungcheol, we’ve been best friends a long time, right? I can’t imagine my life without you in it if I’m being honest, Cheollie. I don’t know why it took me so long even to realize this but. I-” Stopping to look him in the eyes.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long. You’re everything I could ever ask for. Caring, protective motivational, and understanding, you take charge when needed and become the one person in my life I know will be there. These last few months being able to be here and be a support system for you watching you work to be back on stage with your members have been inspiring and made in love with you even more. ”

He just stared at me. No words came out. I could decipher what he was thinking. I slowly moved my hands from his and got up.

“I should go. I’ll see you later?” Moving from him grabbing my phone off the table. His hand quickly grabbed my wrist. Getting looking down at me.

“Were you going to leave? Without me saying what I have to say. Just gonna run out and pretend those pretty words didn’t come out of that pretty little mouth of yours.” His thumb ran over my lower lip. I sucked in a breath.

“Princess... I have always been in love with you. Every time I tried to tell you, you were in a relationship or I was dating someone or having a fling, it has always been you baby. The first time you came to watch our concert and just seeing you in the crowd with that smile of yours singing along to all of our songs, you made sure to come to every concert just to show your support not only for me but for my members as well. Every show, every stage when I look at the carats cheering for us, I’m looking for you, you are the one to calm my nerves. You have not only helped me go through one of the toughest times in my life. Babygirl I fell and I fell hard for you ” He stepped closer to me hand on my cheek. I could feel my heart racing as I looked up into his eyes. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, my, heart full of joy and hope. We pulled away, our eyes still locked. He smiled and kissed me again, this time more deeply. I melted into his arms. He sat down pulling me into his lap. Cheol kissed me again, this time passionately. I was lost in the moment, my heart racing as I felt his hands exploring my body. His hands on my hips moving them. Letting me grind against him. He bit down on my lip I let out a moan of pleasure as his tongue slid into my mouth. We fought for dominance, which he won, of course, We pulled away panting. His shirt was over my waist his fingers digging into my skin. His lips met mine again, this time with more intensity. His tongue made its way into my mouth, exploring every crevice. I felt my body temperature rise as my heart raced.

“Cheol” I whimpered against his lips as he raised his hips to meet mine. He groaned his hand sliding down my thigh I felt myself getting wetter as my desire for him grew more intense. His lips moved from my mouth to my neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind. I arched my back to meet his advances, my heart racing as I felt my body trembling with pleasure. His fingers brushed against my clit, collecting my wetness with his fingers then start to rub my clit. His other hand moved higher, caressing my breasts as his lips continued to explore my neck. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I let out a moan of pleasure as my body quivered. His lips returned to my mouth, his touch sending my mind into overdrive. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to climax,

“Good girl princess. Tell me what you need” He whispered against my lips.

“I-I want your fingers, please” I whimpered body trembling with anticipation. He slowly inserted two fingers into me, his thumb rubbing my clit as his fingers thrusted in and out of me and I began writhing in pleasure. I felt my body tense up as I started to come undone.

“I’m cumming!” I said.

“That’s a good girl, use my fingers to cum” His lips returned to mine, and I let out a final moan of pleasure as my body shuddered in ecstasy. When I finally calmed down I tugged on the string of his sweatpants untying it. He quickly removed his fingers from my pussy and allowed me to take his pants off. He stood there naked, his erection jutting out proudly. ‘Wow, he’s big.’ I thought to myself as I looked up at him with admiration. I reached out and wrapped my small hand around his shaft, feeling it throb in my hand. I slowly began to stroke him, feeling him harden even more.

“Shit, Y/n, make it wet baby. Spit on it, ” He said taking his shirt off and tossing it across the room. Taking my hand and spitting on it wrapping it around him again.

“Good fucking girl,” He said panting. I smiled softly watching his face twitch in pleasure. Finally taking him in my mouth slowly watching his mouth drop slightly.

“Fuuuuuuuck, baby girl,” He said once I took some of him in my mouth. My hand wrapped around the rest. He looked down at me, biting his lip. Learning what sends shivers up and down his spine. I pulled up to suck on the head of his cock. I started to move my head and hand up and down his cock occasionally deep throating him.

“Oh, my fuck- so good at that” His raspy voice whispered his hand in my hair. My eyes never left his.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this.” He said, then pulled me away from him. Bending down picked me up and placed me on the couch with him on his knees. Without a warning, his mouth attached to my clit.

“Oh shit, Cheol!” I cried out my hands in his hair. His fingers slid into me again. Riding his fingers as his mouth worked on my clit had me arching me arching my back. He pulled away still fucking me with his fingers.

“You don’t know how long I wanted this, princess. To taste you and feel you around me. Now that I know what you taste and feel like…I’m never letting you go” He said curling his fingers and hitting my G-spot over and over again.

“Fuck, right there!” I moaned, and he smiled teasingly and said

“Right here, princess? ” I nodded biting my lip, which made him spank my clit lightly

“F-uck!” I screamed tightening around his fingers

“Oh- no baby you gonna cum? You need to ask sweetie, let me hear you beg” he said smirking and spanking my clit again.

“Please, let me cum so you can fuck me Cheollie” My hips meet his fingers in every thrust. His lips wrapped around my clit again making me gasp and whimper. I couldn’t help myself, the aura he gave, the control he had. The word slipped out

“Daddy! Please can I cum?” He smirked again before pushing his fingers deeper inside me and sucking and nibbling at my clit, making me moan louder. I felt my orgasm building, my body trembling with pleasure, and when it finally released, I screamed out in pleasure, my body shaking and trembling with pleasure. I gasped in pleasure, my orgasm finally arriving. He didn't stop, continuing his ministrations until I was spent. Only then did he remove his fingers and lips from me, leaving me in a blissful state.

“Daddy huh?” He said standing up and taking my legs in his hands wrapping them around his waist. Sliding his cock through my lips.

“Mmmh, please don’t tease me.” He leaned down kissing me. Biting at my lower lip pulling away

“Beg me to fuck you baby”

“Please daddy, fuck me,” I pleaded. His lips curved into a smirk, pushing inside me., back arched gasping out as he bottomed out He slowly began to thrust in and out, his grip tightening on my hips with each thrust. I moaned in pleasure, my body trembling with pleasure. He leaned down and kissed me, his breath hot against my lips.

“You, feel so good. Like you were made for me” he groaned out kissing and biting my neck. I moaned out at the pain and pleasure he was giving me. He leaned up took my leg in his hand put it on his shoulder kissing it softly. The angle change made my mouth drop open,

“Right there daddy, please” I moaned

“Please what babygirll? Use your words” he said his other hand pinching at my nipple. I couldn’t think straight. My brain can’t even form the thought of what I was asking for.

“Princess, be a good girl and use your words,” He said hand traveling up my chest onto my neck.

“F-faster please” I cried out. His pace increased, and my moans became louder with each thrust. He leaned down and whispered, his voice low and raspy.

“Such a good girl, taking all of me. Asking so nicely. I always wondered how much of a good girl you’d be.” I tightened around him making him groan out.

“Fuck,” Him hitting my g-spot the way he looked like he could spend forever in this position. Turned me on even more. Making me clench around him.

“You keep doing that I’m gonna cum” He said I smiled and did it again. He groaned his thrusts stuttering. His hold on me tightened, he reached down and rubbed my clit I gasped as I felt him release inside me. Which triggered my orgasm.

“Daddy!” I screamed out he continued to fuck me through it. He collapsed on top of me, our breathing still heavy. Once he caught his breath he pulled out. I whimpered at the loss of his warmth. I felt him get up he took me in his arms carrying me to his room and then the bathroom and sat me on the toilet.

“Use the bathroom princess,” He said grabbing a washcloth and wetting it. I used the bathroom grabbed some toilet paper, wiped myself, and stood up. Seungcheol quietly wiped me with the washcloth and cleaned himself off picking me up again and leaving the bathroom. Walking towards his bed laying down with me on top of him.

“You’re mine now baby girl, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #seventeen #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen fluff #s.coups x reader #x reader #black!reader

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thesaltycat · 2 months ago

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Possibly Hot Take:

Wayne Family Adventures is the correct canon and as a person who was raised on Batman, it's what got me back into the fandom, period. I get that people enjoy their gritty Batman, who hates everyone and is awful to his family, but that's not Batman. That's not the original Batman. The original Batman is the one who had "old-school" goofy programs on TV, aka the original 1960s Batman TV Program. The one that had goofy sound effects, and life lessons (and occasionally some slight drama). The original Batman is Batman: The Animated Series from 1992, where Batman's story is pretty much laid bare from the start. These programs show that you can have drama, and trauma, and not compromise a character by making him the antithesis of everything he is said to stand for. That's the Original Batman. That Batman lost his parents. Tragically. Horrifically. And because of that, his sole purpose in life was to make sure No Child EVER went through what he went through again. Every episode, he would get angry, fight a villain, put them in jail, but he would never kill. People seem to remember this half of him pretty easily. But they forget the second half. When a child shows up, that anger disappears. Because he cares about children, especially his own.

This is shown repeatedly through both series, and in many comic strips that ran at the time. A great example is the episode See No Evil from Batman: The Animated Series. In it, a little girl is almost kidnapped by her father, who is an Invisible Man, and Batman has to take him down. This episode is made all the more traumatic by the fact that the Invisible Man actually nearly succeeds in kidnapping his daughter, with Batman only being able to stop him last second, after the little girl realizes what is happening and becomes terrified. This ending is where you see the difference in how he treats villains, civilians, and children. Because in one second he's focused on taking out the bad guy, and the next he's focused on making sure that little girl is okay. And the episode ends by Batman visiting her at the window every night, to make sure she's okay and prove to her that she's protected, since that was the window her father used to access her.

A couple other good examples of Batman as a hero/friend/father are the Justice League (TV Series) and Young Justice (TV Series). Does he mess up a lot? Yes. Does he lack trust in people he should trust? Yes. It's literally a running gag/plot of the shows that he has a contingency plan for everyone on the Justice League and this translates to Robin having one for everyone in Young Justice. But, when he messes up, does he fix it? Also yes. He also cares for the kids in Young Justice, and for the kids they interact with in the Justice League. This is shown time and time again. Especially in the bond he and Robin have. Throughout Batman: The Animated Series, Justice League (TV Series), and Young Justice, Batman and Robin have always cared about one another. They've gotten into spats, and they're angry at each other occasionally, but that's how families work. You aren't always going to agree. But throughout it all, Robin always looked up to Batman, and Batman was always proud of Robin (even when he couldn't show it).

Here's where the trauma comes in:

Batman is going to screw up as a parent. Every single parent does. Especially when you're as traumatized as he is, and all of your adopted children/family are also as traumatized as you are. It is inevitable. But what differentiates Original Batman from the Batman that made me quit reading anything about him for years is the response. Original Batman would try to make things right. Because he would recognize that what he did had caused harm, and not only that, it caused harm to his children (and family). And he would hate that. So he would do everything possible to fix it, including working on himself and doing better. The newer age, grittier Batman doesn't do that. Because he's missing the very core of what it means to be Batman: caring about his family and caring about kids. This is why I left the fandom. Because that grittier Batman, is not Batman. He lacks the key piece of what makes Batman the character that he is. And it replaces that piece with drama for the sake of drama. No resolutions, no trying to be better, just hurt for the sake of hurt, and angst for the sake of angst. And I detest that. You can have drama without compromising his character. Joker is a murderous man who's gone insane, with the sole intent of hurting Batman and Gotham as sadistically as possible. That's been true since the 1960s Batman show I mentioned earlier. He would, and does hurt the Bat Family on a regular basis. And there are so many villains that do the same. Batman doesn't need to become one of them to "make the story more interesting". It already is. In fact, I'd argue that him staying true to himself and working with his family throughout it creates much more interesting dynamics than gritty Batman ever could.

And that's where Wayne Family Adventures comes in:

When I first saw WFA, I wasn't going to give it a chance. Because I'd been so burned by Batman Comics before that I didn't believe this one was going to be any better. But something made me give it a chance. Maybe it was the art style, maybe it was the fact that it was on Webtoon, I don't know. But when I started reading it, I was pleasantly surprised. And I was even more surprised to find out that it is a Canon (yes it is Canon, not Fanon) DC Batman Comic. Many people disliked the first season because it started out majority-wise as "fluff". However, if you cared to read past the first few episodes, more and more backstory started to pop up. Along with this, the "fluff" all connected. Because that "fluff" was necessary to break free of the shackles that the Batman franchise has been in for decades now. And for the first time, it showed the Bat Family with the heart of the Original Batman. The more you read, the better it gets, because the more fleshed out their world becomes. And it draws very important Canon from other franchises in ways that don't make it feel cheap. It also proves something that I think has needed to be proven for a long time; You can have substance in a story without it being entirely grim. Not only can you have substance, you can have deeper substance. Because the connections everyone in the Bat Family has to each other allows us to explore issues in a way they haven't been before. Through communication.

Spoilers below:

We get to see Jason go through a very large PTSD episode. And it isn't just "All people with PTSD are violent". In fact, the only one who thinks he's a danger to the world is himself. Everybody else recognizes that he's hurting, and that representation is enormous. We get to see insights into everyone's pasts and how it's affected them. In Season 3 (which is a fully fledged/connected arc, not "fluff"), we get to see how PTSD affects Bruce, and because he's on good terms with his adopted family, we get to see how it affects him and Jason, both similarly and differently, at the same time. We also get to see how Jason's previous death impacted Bruce and how that plays into the Joker's plans and Bruce's reactions to everything. We get to see Dick step up as Nightwing again, and his and Barbara's trauma, involving parents, the Joker, and having to go against someone you should be able to trust. We actually get to see Duke. And how all of this has affected him. We see how his parents being (currently) permanently "infected" by the joker has absolutely broken him in ways he hasn't yet processed. And how he can overcome it, while also leaning on the support of his family. We see how Damien's world-view is affected due to being raised by assassins, and how he slowly comes out of his shell the longer the series goes. We get to see wonderful examples of how loved ones can help bring us out of a crisis and back into a headspace that can do something about the situation, because sometimes brute forcing it won't work. And we get to see what coming out of a toxic relationship looks like through Harley Quinn, and how just because you're a different (better) person now, that doesn't mean the person you were before is completely gone from the minds of those around you. Bruce was still afraid of Harley when he was dealing with his PTSD responses. Because Harley Quinn did help the Joker do some really bad things. And Harley recognized that and understood.

Season 3 isn't over yet, and it's already done all of that and more.

And because of that, this series has singlehandedly brought me back into the fandom. Because it made Batman feel like Batman again. And it recognized that trauma is more complex than just piling darkness on top of darkness over and over again.

I want more people to give it a chance because it's done something genuinely special that DC hasn't had in a long time. And I think it could get so many Batman fans back on board who've been missing this version of Batman for decades, because it shows so well what Batman was always about. I also want newer Batman (grittier Batman) fans to give it a fair chance, because it has far more substance than many people will ever even care to look for. And that substance can do so much for people who empathize with characters like Jason, Bruce, Damien, Duke, etc.. As well as bring awareness about these topics to people who may not know anything about them, or only know a stigmatized version of these topics, especially PTSD.

#wayne family adventures #batman #justice league #young justice #dc comics #dc universe #batman the animated series #teen titans

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warrioreowynofrohan · 26 days ago

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LOTR Newsletter - October 26

Yes, I know that today isn't a reading day, but with the hobbits safe in Rivendell and the Council of Elrond over it's a good day to catch up with what's been going on in the Shire.

Which is not good.

Because the Scouring of the Shire comes at the end of The Return of the King, it's natural that we generally associate it with Saruman screwing everything up. But things were going wrong in the Shire well before Saruman got there.

This is the account that Tom Cotton gives of events in the Shire during this autumn:

“It all began with Pimple [i.e. Lotho Sackville-Baggins], as we call him, and it began as soon as you’d gone off, Mr. Frodo. He’d funny ideas, had Pimple. Seems he wanted to own everything himself, and then order other folks about. It soon came out that he already did own a sight more than was good for him; and he was always grabbing more, though where he got the money was a mystery: mills and malthouses and inns, and farms, and leaf-plantations. He’d already bought Sandyman’s mill before he came to Bag End, seemingly. “Of course he started with a lot of property in the Southfarthing which he had from his dad; and it seems he’d been selling a lot o’ the best leaf, and sending it away quietly for a year or two. But at the end o’ last year he began sending away loads of stuff, not only leaf. Things began to get short, and winter coming on, too. Folk got angry, but he had his answer. A lot of Men, ruffians mostly, came with great waggons, some to carry off the goods south-away, and others to stay. And more came. And before we knew where we were they were planted here and there all over the Shire, and were felling trees and digging and building themselves sheds and houses just as they liked. At first goods and damage was paid for by Pimple; but soon they began lording it around and taking what they wanted. “…Take Sandyman’s mill now. Pimple knocked it down almost as soon as he came to Bag End. Then he brought in a lot o’ dirty-looking Men to build a bigger one and fill it full o’ wheels and outlandish contraptions. Only that fool Ted was pleased by that, and he works there cleaning wheels for the Men, where he dad was the Miller and his own master. Pimple’s idea was to grind more and faster, or so he said. He’s got other mills like it. But you’ve got to have grist before you can grind; and there was no more for the new mill to do than for the old.”

The 'best leaf' that Lotho has been selling and 'sending away quietly' has been going to Isengard. Lotho is basically a local business magnate who's extensively expanded his holdings (in both agricultural land and businesses), and who has strong economic ties with a hostile foreign power.

And I think this sounds like a fairly accurate description of an imperial power gaining hold by co-opting that local magnate. He sells things the Shire needs (like food) to the foreign power for his own profit and to the Shire's detriment. Then he welcomes in paramilitaries connected to the imperial power to enhance his local power base, and mostly lets them operate with impunity. (And does not really realize that he doesn't actually have any control over them.)

And he says he's making things better by "modernizing", even when it's not actually useful and it's largely making life worse for the people who actually live in the country.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #lotr newsletter #lotr newsletter spoilers #hobbits #the shire

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misserabella · 2 years ago

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here.

javier peña x fem! reader

synopsis; Javier and you simply fucked when his job took the best of him, to blow up some steam. You were nothing, just really close friends…, right? Maybe the thought of loosing you ‘causes him to finally open up.

warnings; +18 content, minors don’t interact!, arms, guns, mentions of death and terrorism, unprotected sex (GUYD STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), piv sex, oral sex (f! receiving), kid of rough/desperate sex, cursing, nipple play, fingering, dirty talking, praising, a little bit of angst with fluff at the end, cursing, cream pie, no use of y/n! use of pet names and spanish from Javi<3!

a/n: please remember that english is not my first language! tell me if there are any gramatical errors. hope y’all love it!<3

Javi was a really close friend… And when you meant really, you truly meant it.

You two had gotten to know each other while sharing an office on the police department, and one night that things had wrong and had come to you staying working late, he had touched you in need of a distraction, in need of someone that could understand. And you could understand.

That’s why you let him use you, fuck away senseless his pain, his frustration, his rage…

He fucked into you like you were the only thing left for him to tug on. Kissed you like you were the only bits of oxygen left in the world.

And after that… His need for you became more frequently to this day.

It was late at night when you heard an stressful knocking coming from your door. You rubbed your eyes open, a frown showing on your face when your eyes landed on the clock beside you on the night table. 3:20 AM.

The new knocking had you pulling yourself to your feet, hissing at the cold that stung your feet.

You quickly went to the door, opening it when the knocking only got more intense. You had your gun on your right hand, ready to shoot in case of need.

The gun met the forehead of whoever had woken you up, your hands quickly pushing it away when you met your co-worker’s and leaving it aside.

“Javi?” you called out to him with a confused look. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?” he seemed out of breath, body glistening in the softest sweat. “Ja-“

And as you were about to inquire him once again, he plunged into your home, his warm calloused hands cupping your face to bring you into a searing kiss that had you gasping into his mouth.

You whimpered when he closed the door behind him and quickly pushed you to the wall on your right, his hands roaming your body with the urgency that always came in this situations: He had had a bad day. Maybe a bad week. The thing with Escobar was getting really hard; the bombing, the loss, the deaths, the fear…

Your fingers laced on his hair, and he hummed, thanking you, when you opened your mouth for him.

His hands cupped your breasts from under your silk night gown, letting the lace of your panties show for his angry eyes. Your moaning was angelic.

“Joder.” he had you over his shoulder in less than a second, throwing you onto your bed, making the head broad dent the wall.

“Javi…” you moaned when his lips latched to your neck, his hands back to your tits and his hardened clothed cock pushing against your cunt.

You helped him get rid of your gown, leaving you almost completely exposed to his hungry eyes. His lips sucked on your nipples as one of his hands came down in between your bodies to cup your pussy, a wet patch growing on your panties under his fingertips. You screamed when he pushed the panties aside to let show your beautiful and puffy soaked lips only of him. “Fuck, darling, you’re so wet already…” he muttered against your chest as his fingers dipped and found your clit, making your head fall back and a pornographic moan to leave your lips. “Such a good girl getting all ready for me to fuck, hm?” you nodded, his touch electrifying. “Look at that. She’s swallowing my fingers…” your walls clenched around two of his fingers when he plunged them inside, making your back curl. It was always a stretch, but nowhere like the feeling of his cock fucking you open. “You’re so beautiful baby.” you cheeks reddened at the compliment, a whimper leaving your lips when his kisses trailed down your stomach, a peck being given to the patch of hair on your mound. “Smell so sweet…” your eyes glistened when you saw him take his two fingers inside his mouth, tongue lapping at your juices and making him hum. “Taste so good too. You drive me insane.” you hands flew to his hair when he dove in, sucking on your clit as his fingers started to fuck into you again.

“Fuck, Javi!” he smirked against your cunt when his fingers found that perfect spot hidden in between your gummy walls, his fingers curling in a relentless peace, that has you falling apart under his touch. “Please don’t stop…” you begged, and the hand clutching your right high squeezed your flesh in an assuring way that told you that he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t. Not when you tastes so good and sounded so angelical. Not when he needed you so bad.

It only took a few laps at your clit to had you gushing and coming onto his mouth, making him groan. You moaned as he worked you through it, telling you how perfect you were and how good you were being for him.

When his lips met yours, your tongue tasted your orgasm off his mouth, the kiss sloppy, hungry and needy, spit dribbling down your bottom lip and onto your chin. You were quick to help him get rid of his polo, pants and underwear, freeing his aching cock.

No matter how many times you had seen him it was always a shock to see how big and thick he was, always a stretch to take him when he would part your lips with his bedded head and pushed inside. You always remembered how he had fucked you for the first time, how he had had you sobbing against the table as he whispered a soft ‘Come on, you can take it. Relax for me, that’s it, atta girl.’ against your neck.

You were even quicker to flop on your stomach, your ass up and pussy ready for him to fuck into, since that was how Javier always fucked you, on your fours.

“What are you doing?” he questioned and you frowned as your head tilted backwards.

“Getting ready…?” you send back in the same unsure tone, a squeal leaving your throat when his big strong arms took you to push you down onto your back once again.

“Not tonight, amor. Tonight I need to see you.” he muttered, and before you could open your mouth to inquire him, he was pushing inside.

You cried out at the feeling, the sting of pain that came with pleasure making you reach out for his back, your nails digging on his skin.

He grunted as he slowly pushed more of him inside your tight walls. “That’s it, baby, open up for me.” he whispered onto your ear when your walls started to relax around him and suck him in.

You both moaned when he finally bottomed out, hitting that deep spot that him and only him had ever reached.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, honey, so fucking good…” he muttered as his hips started to snap into you, making your nails go in deeper. “Always so good for me, so pretty… Fuck, fuck,fuck…”

Your whimpers and moans got cut out with every each of his now harsh and quick thrust. You could feel it, feel it in the way he kisses you, in the way he fucked you into the mattress, how there was no space left in between the two of you, how his hands gripped and bruised your hips as he brought you impossibly closer to him…

Don’t leave. That’s what he was trying to say. Don’t die. I need you. Don’t leave.

“I’m here, Javi. I’m here…” you cried out as he fucked into you, tears breaming your eyes at the intensity of your now incoming orgasm. He pushed deeper at your promise. ‘Cause it was a promise.

“Fuck.” he groaned when your walls started to milk him, a scream falling of your lips as he hit your g spot relentlessly. You were dizzy on it, drunk on his skin and his cologne, high on his kisses and his thrusting. “Looking so pretty. Shit.”

“Javi, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” you sobbed and he only sped up, one of his hands moving to roll your clit in between his fingers.

“Come for me, mi amor, come for me.” your ears rang and your vision went white when your new orgasm came crushing down on you, making you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear. “Look at you. Eres mía mi amor. All mine.” “Fuck, you’re getting so tight…” he grunted against your neck as he made a mark there. “Gonna milk me dry…” he fucked you through it, his dick getting coated by your white release, which now painted the brush of hair on the base of his cock. “Gonna cum, baby, fuck.”

“Inside Javi, please…” you begged, and he was quick to paint your walls with his cum, making your eyes roll back at the feeling. You loved it. Loved it when he would come inside, make you his. Mark you as his from the inside out.

You two stood there, riding out your own respective highs in between each others arms. But you knew it wouldn’t last. ‘Cause it never did.

Tears stung your eyes when he slid out of you, making you hiss at the overstimulation. You knew what came next. He would get up, get his clothes and leave without even saying goodbye ‘till the next time he’d come to you, only for it to happen all over again.

You gave him your back, ‘cause you didn’t want to see. And didn’t want him to see you too, crying your heart out after every night he’d fuck you senseless and hugging yourself at the cold that his skin left behind.

But your breath hitched when after the shuffling of clothes, the bed sank under his weight behind you, and your heart stopped when one of his arms surrounded your waist to pull you closer and against his chest.

It was completely silent in between the two of you, only the sound of cars passing by and both your steady breathing filling the silence of the room.

You slowly tuned around in between his arms, his eyes finding yours under the dim light of your salt lamp.

He left a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, which made your heart flutter and eyes close. You didn’t understand. He had never been like this. He had never fucked you on your back, facing him, never even stayed after it. So what was going on?

You noticed he hadn’t gotten dressed, he had just folded everything back onto the chair of your vanity so tomorrow neither of you would trip on it. Your eyes swelled in tears as you looked at him. And that’s when you saw it, in his eyes. This longing, this love that he has never let himself show you, never letting you look into his eyes as he fucked you, even less as he left you in the middle of the night.

“I’m here, amor. I’m here.” he promised back with a soft smile.

You quickly leaned into the kiss that now his lips planted on your own. It was sweet, slow. A kind of kiss that talked when words weren’t enough. Your hands found his hair and his your hips, bringing you closer, hugging you to his chest. His skin was warm, his body the missing piece of yours.

You let him hold you, let him look into your eyes and pour all the words that he never found himself to mutter on your heart. Let him kiss you, let him mark you, and let him fuck himself back into you once again when he had rose one of your legs over his hips, making you fall apart in between his arms as he whispered beautiful words into the night until the sunrise.

hope y’all liked it, love you xx

xxx

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absurdthirst · 9 months ago

Text

The Irish Escape {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: Rudeness, Pero being an asshole, prejudice against Americans, hypothermia, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex

Comments: Freshly arrived in Ireland to visit the cottage your estranged grandmother has willed you, you run into a rude Spaniard. Unsure of why he hates Americans and why you seemingly can't stop running into him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s raining when you arrive in Dingle, County Kerry. You curse your suitcase as you try to drag it along the garden path that leads up to the small cottage known as Fairy Lodge. You fumble to find the key under the mat and work quickly to unlock the door, shivering as you step into the entrance, dragging your case behind you. You shut the door and shrug off your coat, wiping your boots on the mat. The cottage - tiny and cute - was left to you by your grandmother. She recently passed but you hadn’t seen her since you were ten after she decided to follow her dream and buy a house in Ireland. She left it to you in her will with the note, “always follow your dreams” and you decided to take a vacation and check the place out. It’s beautiful, even in the rain, and you are looking forward to exploring the area your grandma loved so much. After drying off and opening up the cottage. It’s quaint in the best way and you check the cupboards to find nothing, not even a pack of cookies. With a sigh, you look out of the window to find the rain has stopped so you put your coat on and make your way out onto the damp streets. You aren’t sure where to go but you googled a small pub nearby so you make your way over to it, hungry and desperate for a drink after traveling.

“Come on, mate.” William rolls his eyes and shakes his head, putting his pint down to slap his friend on his shoulder. “You should stay and drink. The rain’s gonna start again and it’s not like you can work.” He chuckles, imagining how much the Spaniard would curse working out in the rain. When Pero had shown up at his door nearly a year ago, angry and adrift with no plan for his life, he had taken in his old friend. Let him live with him until he had purchased a cottage down the road from the Garin farm. “Nothin’ better to do than drink.” Pero grumbles, shaking his head as he stands up, pushing his chair back. “No.” He huffs, pulling his coat off the back of the chair and shrugging into it before jamming his flat billed hat onto his head. “I’m not paying for your beers.” He glares at the Irishman, knowing that if he stays, he will be left paying the tab. He turns and strides towards the door, not noticing the woman turning away from the counter with a hot coffee in her hands.

You gasp as the man knocks into you and your coffee spills over his front, soaking his jeans, and you immediately bounce back. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I- shit.” You place the cup down on the counter and you reach for the napkins, turning back to try and help the man mop up the mess you made of him.

The accent makes him immediately seeth in rage, barely even paying attention to your remorseful expression as you shove the napkins at his crotch. Pero slaps your hands away, hissing at the heat of the coffee. “Fucking Americans.” He spits, shooting you a deadly glare. “Ruining fucking everything.” Shoving past you, he slams out of the door and out of sight.

Your jaw drops and you stare at the door as he swings on the hinges. You can’t believe what he spat at you and you turn to look at the men gathered around the bar. “I- I didn’t see him behind me.” You choke and the blonde man shakes his head, “don’t mind the miserable Spanish bastard. He’s just not a fan of Yankees at the moment.” He chuckles and gulps down the rest of his pint. “Not your fault, lass.” He tells you and you sigh, “he made that crystal clear.”

The bartender shakes his head, “Garin, that Spanish git needs to apologize to the lady.”

William scoffs, “you tell him that.”

You huff, “doesn’t matter. Can I get another cup?” You ask the bartender who nods. You sigh as you finally sit down in the corner, your annoyance at the rude Spaniard fading as you relax.

William decides that he needs to make up for his friend’s rude behavior. He stands up and groans, carrying his pint back to the bar for a refill. He nods to the bartender and slides it down to where he’s pouring you another coffee. “So.” He leans against the rubbed worn wood and shoots you what he knows is a charming grin. “Tourin’ Ireland, are ya?” He asks, making his accent slightly thicker. “Passin’ through, or will ya be stayin’ awhile?”

“Actually, I - my grandma had a cottage down the road. Fairy Lodge? She left it to me after she recently died and I needed to get away so I came to check on the house.” You explain.

William nods, “oh that tiny little place on the corner? I remember the old lady who owned it.” He nods, “sweet old gal.” He takes the pint from the bartender and comes over, sitting down opposite you. “How long you plannin’ on being here?” He asks you and you shrug, “not sure. I can work remotely so I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks before I head home. I’m going to put the home on the market. I won’t be able to get out here to maintain the home so I think I’ll sell it.” You confess, setting your mug down.

“Oh, you should stay awhile for sure.” William advises. “Make sure the land doesn’t grow on you.” He has to admit, having a younger, attractive woman in the village would be a good thing. But he also doesn’t want the home sold to someone who would not respect the land, or the people. He can’t imagine your granny raising anyone who would disrespect the lady she had adopted as her own. “Besides, ye can always ask your neighbor to check on things. We take care of each other ‘round here.”

You offer him a soft smile, “yeah…except for ‘fucking Americans’” You scoff softly as you quote his companion.

William shakes his head, “ignore Tovar. He’s a grumpy fucker.”

You tap your fingers against the mug, “well, he clearly doesn’t like Americans so maybe it’s best that I sell up.” You hum and William sighs, “well, see how ya feel. You might turn out to love it here. I know I do. I served in Iraq and all I wanted to do was come home.” He confesses and you smile again, “it is a beautiful place. I’ll see how things go.”

He nods, reaching for the beer that has been put in front of him. “Well, if you’re needing anything, I’m at the Garin farm. Ask anyone and they’ll point you in my direction.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You offer William a smile and he makes his way back over to his friends. You settle in to continue reading your book and you thank the landlady for your meal as she brings it over to you. You eat and thankfully the rain has stopped when you decide to make your way back to Fairy Lodge. Tomorrow, you’ll get some groceries but for now, you’re exhausted. You quickly get ready for bed and settle in, falling asleep within minutes.

The next morning, Pero grumbles to himself as he walks up the lane towards the village. Needing some groceries, he wants to see if old man Sawyer had gotten in those wines that he had asked for. It was hard to make some of his dishes without the Spanish wines and he was looking forward to getting them.

You carry your basket around the small grocery store and you gasp when you walk around the corner to see the asshole from last night nearly walk into you again. "Do you make a habit of walking into people?" He growls and you huff, "only rude bastards who don't notice anyone in their peripheral." You hiss back, stomach twisting with annoyance at the man.

He purses his lips at you and narrows his eyes. “What’s an American like you doing in a grocery store like this?” He demands, annoyed that your mere presence makes him feel guilty for yesterday and it just irritates him more. “They don’t have all the fancy shit you would want here. Best go to Dublin and take your demanding, childish ways with you.”

You narrow your eyes and grip the basket in your hand a little tighter. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck I did to you yesterday that makes you act like a rude prick but I accidentally spilled my coffee over you and you act like I just pissed in your cornflakes. I am here because my grandma left me her house so you'll be seeing more of me around the village. Get used to it, asshole." You growl, spinning on your heel to find the ground coffee.

The news that you will be here even longer than he would like puts Pero in a mood. “Hijo de puta.” He spits, his own basket handle nearly broken as he grips it tight in his fist. The last thing he needs is some stuck up, American bitch hanging around and causing trouble. Old man Sawyer comes into view and he stomps over to him to see if the wine came in.

You don’t notice the man has left when you go to pay for your groceries and the old man starts to ring everything up. “I noticed there’s a bit of tension between you and Tovar.” He says softly and looks up at you. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in a small town - the gossiping and everyone knowing each other - but you sigh, holding your wallet. “I accidentally spilled my coffee over him in the pub last night and he seems to hate me without even knowing my name.” You huff, “I’m not the kind of woman that’s gonna bow over and beg for forgiveness when I already apologized.” You explain and Sawyer nods, “he’s a grumpy git. He, uh, has had a lot going on from what I have heard.” You snort, “haven’t we all? Still not enough of a reason for him to be a prick.” You say and Sawyer chuckles, “you’re fiery. You’ll fit in just fine around here.” He winks and hands you your change. “Thanks.” You say and make your way back to Fairy Lodge, wondering what happened to make Tovar such an asshole.

Pero is passing by the gate to William’s house, his own groceries in a bag on his arm and lost in his thoughts when his friend calls out to him. “Missed a bit of gossip after pouting off into the night.” He looks over at where William is pushing his best sheep, Nell, out of the way and walking towards the stone wall. He rolls his eyes.

“What, did she manage to spill a beer on you?” He huffs, smirking slightly in amusement at the idea.

“No, but she did tell me that she’s going to be in town.”

His smirk slides away and he scowls. “Sí, I know that.” He grumbles, sighing as he walks off the road and towards the wall to talk. The lane was narrow and lorries love to careen around the corners recklessly.

“How did you find out?” William is grinning, about to tease Pero for being interested in the American. “She nearly ran me over in Sawyer’s.” He snorts. “Woman - women - are menaces. Especially stuck-up, American bitches.”

“Now mate, you and I both know that’s not fair. She’s not your ex wife.” William shakes his head, “not all Americans are stuck up bitches…or cheaters.” He raises his eyebrows at his Spanish friend who came to him years ago after finding his wife in bed with their neighbor. “Besides, you always told me you wanted to move from Seville. Said you felt trapped. So you came here to bother my ass.”

“I can always kill you so you aren’t bothered anymore.” Pero threatens, only making William laugh. He knows the Spaniard won’t actually kill him and therein lies the problem. They had been in the military together, serving on the same military bases in Iraq and somehow had become friends. Or as close to friends as Pero could have. Knowing the Irishman wouldn’t pity him like so many he had known would, he had decided to sulk in the Irishman’s home village and ended up staying. “She’s just like her.” He predicts. “All pretty smiles and batting eyelashes to get her way and then she shoves the knife in your ribs. She’ll sell the cottage to some developer who will want to put some god awful monstrosity where her granny’s cottage is. Only hope it's far away from my own.”

William snorts, “she doesn’t seem money hungry to me, mate. She’s not like her. From what you’ve told me, she was charming and drew you in with a fake personality. This one seems real. She doesn’t seem to be faking anything.” William observes, “she’s not your ex wife. She just happens to be American.”

Pero rolls his eyes, knowing that William won’t understand. He’s not been betrayed like he has and had his heart ripped out. Even more to find that the baby she had just told him about wasn’t his. She had just been planning on using him. “I’ve got better things to do than to argue with you, amigo.” He grumbles, pushing away from the wall and walking towards the road.

“All I’m saying is to just give her a chance.” William shouts at Pero’s retreating form and he sighs, looking down at Nell. “He really is a stubborn bastard.”

****

You decide to spend the day in the cottage, checking out things that your grandma left here and cleaning it up. You look through the photos she left there of your family. You haven’t seen her for years but she had an album of photos your parents must have sent her over the years. You caress the book, wishing you’d known her more and you wonder why she left you the cottage. She didn’t even leave you a note in her will when you got the keys.

There’s movement in the Fairy Cottage. Pero had noticed it when he was moving some more kindling under the lean-to on the back of the cottage. The sweet older lady that had lived there had been an American, but he hadn’t held it against the feisty old woman. A light comes on and he narrows his eyes in anger. People need to respect that a house is empty without molesting it. He grabs the crowbar he had been pulling old boards off the interior walls to redo. Ready to go confront the thief and make sure they don’t walk away with anything.

You hear the back door open with a creak and you inhale sharply, unable to believe that someone is breaking into the tiny cottage in the tiny village that you believed was as safe as could be. Everyone knows each other for fucks sake. You pick up the nearest thing - a book - and make your way down the stairs to confront the invader. When you get to the bottom step, you see the shadow and throw the book, a scream escaping your lips.

Pero curses when the book comes out of nowhere and hits him on the head. Turning and swinging the crowbar threateningly. “You had better make your peace with God if you think you are stealing anything from this house!” He shouts, lunging forward to grab the criminal who has broken into the cottage. “Got you!”

You scream as he grabs the back of your sweater and you try to hit him. “Get the fuck off of me!” You tell, slapping anywhere you can reach. “Get off!”

He drops the crowbar just as soon as he hears that accent, immediately aware that he has a woman and despite everything, he couldn’t hurt one. “Ow! Ow!” He yelps, throwing his arm up to block the jarringly accurate slaps as they strike his skin. “Stop your hitting, woman!” He growls, finally grabbing your arm so you can stop slapping his face.

You can’t believe it’s him. “Oh my God, it’s you. You bastard!” You growl, trying to wrench your arm from his grip. “What the hell are you breaking into my cottage?” You demand to know, “what the fuck, Tovar?”

He would be surprised you know his name, but that bastard William has a big mouth. “Your cottage?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was your cottage. The old gal that lived here died just two months….” He trails off, remembering you had said you inherited a cottage from your grandmother. That sweet old woman was your granny? He lets go of your arm and grunts. “Thought you were a thief.” He tells you. “Wanted to run them off before they could steal anything.”

You are slightly touched that he’d put himself in danger to protect your grandmother’s cottage but you are also annoyed that he broke in without any warning. “Well, it’s just me. Although I’m surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to whack me.” You scoff as he lets go of your arm and you reach up to rub it.

He snorts, bending down to pick up the crowbar and glares at you. Hating that it was you that he had run into again. No doubt you will be telling everyone what a fool he is, or perhaps calling the police on him for entering your cottage. “Might should have.” He grunts at you. “How do I know you even own this property?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you again. “Wouldn’t be the first con artist American I’ve run into.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Wow. You’re a grade A prick.” You scoff, “my grandma left it for me and you - I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You huff, staring at him and you get a proper look at him for the first time. He’s handsome, even with that scar on his eye, and you hate that he’s handsome. “Did you, uh, did you know my grandma well?” You ask softly after a moment. The curiosity gets the better of you.

Pero stares at you for a moment before nodding. “I fixed her roof the first year she was here.” He tells you. “Delivered her peat moss to burn and made sure that she was okay when bad weather rolled in.” He rocks his jaw, having to admit to himself that he could see the family resemblance and thinks that he had seen a picture of you when you were younger. “I-” he swallows. “I’m the one who- who found her.” Sadness fills his eyes as he remembers that day. At least she had passed peacefully in her sleep.

You inhale sharply, tears stinging in your eyes for the grandmother you didn’t get to know properly. “I- I hadn’t seen her since I was ten. My parents divorced and my mom…she didn’t let my dad take me to see her when she moved here. I- I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, stepping back from Tovar. “Anyway…you must be sick of me by now. The ironic thing is you don’t even know my name.”

Pero recalls the stories she had told him about her family, producing your name with an ease that startled him. “She talked about you.” He tells you. “Never stopped loving you and talking about when you were young.” The least he can do is not let you think the old woman didn’t care about you. “Maybe that’s why she left you the cottage.” He offers.

You nod, biting your lip as tears sting in your eyes when you think about your grandmother. “Thanks for telling me that.” You say, sniffing as you try to not cry. “I - I appreciate it. Do you, uh, I really am sorry about spilling my coffee over you.”

He can’t snap at you when your eyes are watering and you look like you are about to cry. “Don’t worry about it.” He tells you. “I’m sorry for breaking into your cottage.” He tells you as he shuffles uncomfortably. He’s never been good at apologies, but he owes you that. “I’ll leave you to your day then.” He tells you.

You nod, uncrossing your arms as you escort Pero to the back door. “That - I’ll fix that.” You say, not even sure of where to start to fix the door he had broken when trying to protect the cottage from faux thieves.

Shaking his head, he opens the door and bends down to examine it. “I’ll have the door fixed in an hour.” He tells you. “Need to go get some things from my tool shed and I’ll have it sturdier than it’s ever been.” He looks up and shrugs. “My fault anyway.”

You accept his offer, knowing you won’t be able to fix the door, especially not tonight, so you let him go grab his tool box and when he comes back, you’re preparing some tea. “You want some tea?” You ask, knowing the nights are turning colder here.

“Do you know how to make it?” He asks seriously. “American tea is very sweet….and cold.” He grimaces, remembering when his ex would try to make tea and he had to drink it in order to make her happy. He had hated it.

You chuckle, “I can make hot tea. Iced tea is for hot days. Or I can make some coffee?” You offer, not sure what he wants and you wonder when he had iced tea. It’s not something you’ve encountered so far in Ireland.

“Hot tea.” Pero nods. “I don’t understand how someone drinks tea that is thick like syrup.” He chuckles and then thinks to add, “thank you. I’ll get your door fixed, I’ve got another one that will fit.” He promises, opening the door and examining the frame. He had been about to replace his own door but he could always go get another one.

You nod, getting to work on boiling the water on the stove. Your hatred of Pero fades a little since you’ve managed to talk to him and you still don’t understand his apparent dislike of anyone and anything American. When he comes back, you are a little chilly and you pour the brewed tea. “Do you like milk or no?” You ask, wondering how the Spaniard likes his tea.

His nose curls and he shakes his head. “No milk.” He insists. “I cannot have it.” His sensitive stomach was something that made William laugh but milk curdled on him. It was not pleasant and he didn’t want to risk it. “Please.” He adds when he remembers that manners are important to Americans.

You nod, setting the cup of tea down on the kitchen counter for him. "It's not poisoned." You tease, "although it was tempting." Tovar scoffs and picks up the cup, taking a sip. "So...what brought you to Ireland?" You ask, curious and nosey despite knowing you risk him shutting down on you.

“My friend.” He shrugs, looking down at the cup and then back up at you. “You can actually make a cup of tea that's not shit.” He grunts, knowing that is a compliment from him. “He lived here and I wanted a change so I came and decided to stay.”

You don't push him, sensing there's more to it and you don't want to risk your newfound ceasefire. "Fair enough. I wanted a change too." You confess and lean against the counter with your cup. "I got tired of the hustle bustle living in the city...it was exhausting."

“You won’t find that here.” Pero promises, pulling his hammer out to start prying the broken piece of wood off the frame. “Unless you count when Garvin’s sheep get out and run amok in your vegetable garden.” He snorts. “Nell, his favorite, never fails to end up walking into the pub like she’s gonna order a pint.”

You chuckle, "she sounds like a riot." Pero snorts, "a handful." You watch him work, his broad back muscles moving and you bite your lip, suddenly attracted to him. He's been an asshole but you think he's sexy in a mysterious asshole way. "You like it here." You observe, a statement more than a question.

“It’s quiet.” He shrugs slightly, not willing to admit that he’s found more peace here than he had when he returned to his ‘home’ in Spain. “I like quiet. Most are bored to death by it, but there's a tranquility in a slower pace of life.”

"Sounds like a little piece of heaven." You sigh, cradling the cup of tea in your palms. "Quiet is underrated. People want to live fast but I want to stop and smell the roses...take my time with life. Sorry...too many goddamn cliches." You scoff at yourself.

“People say that, but then they get pissed when there’s no new clubs to go to or activities that aren’t for ‘old people’.” He rolls his eyes and grunts as he measures the wood. “I should go get a piece to replace this and grab that door.”

You nod, “sure.” You don’t question him anymore or ask anymore questions, deciding to focus on starting a fire to ward off the chilly fall air especially since the door is open. You’re bending over the fireplace when Pero comes back in but you don’t hear him as you remain bent over as you poke the kindling.

Pero frowns, watching you poke at the fire. “You-” He huffs and sets the wood down and walks over to the fireplace. “You’re smothering the fire.” He tells you, taking the poker out of your hand. “It’s not like a wood fire. Peat is finicky, but it burns longer.”

You want to roll your eyes at him as he tries to tell you how to start the fire. Tired of men explaining shit to you at work, you stand up and let him take over with a huff. “I know how to start a fire. Did it enough times back home. God, you really can’t let people make mistakes, can you?” You ask, confused about why he’s so critical all the time.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “If you want your cottage to be full of smoke, be my guest.” He snarks back at you, waiting to see if you will take over again. When you don’t, he kneels down and reaches into the fireplace. Pulling out the kindling and the hunks of peat to restack them and pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

You watch him with intrigue, noticing his strong jawline as he clenches his jaw in concentration. You observe what he does and you take notes for when you start another fire. The hearth is soon full of warmth and Tovar stands up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Thank you.” You tell him, placing your hand on his arm, “sorry I- I’m not good at not being good at things.” You admit softly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffs out a small laugh. “Took your grandmother nearly a month of freezing to accept my offer to help her with the chimney.” He has to admit that you seem like you are self-sufficient. Strong-willed.

You chuckle, “she was stubborn. My dad got that from her. Guess I did too.” You sigh and bite your lip as you lower your hand from his arm. “It’s too damn cold to mess around being that stubborn.” You confess, “even I can admit that.”

“Well, the new door will keep out the wind better and with a good peat fire, your cottage will be nice and cozy.” He promises. “Irish winters aren’t warm, but there is a beauty to them.”

“So I’ve heard. I’m not sure if I’ll be here long enough to see its full beauty. I haven’t decided what I’m gonna do.” You confess and cross your arms, watching as Tovar continues working on the door. “You’re from Spain?” You guess from his accent.

“Sí.” He frowns as he fits the wood in and marks it with the pencil he tucked behind his ear to trim a small sliver off. He grabs his hacksaw and looks up at you. “Seville originally.”

“I’ve never been to Spain. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous. And I think they used Seville for some Game of Thrones locations. There’s so many places I haven’t been that I want to go to.” You sigh, leaning back against the counter. “You must’ve been a lot of places, having such easy access to Europe.”

“It is not hard to travel.” He admits. “But your country is larger than all of Europe combined.” He had been amazed when he had come over to meet his ex’s family. “The flights are short if you want to go on a holiday.”

You shrug, “and expensive as hell. Two hundred bucks average for a flight to another state and nothing as old as what Europe has to offer. I am thinking I might travel to Germany or Austria. Check out the Christmas markets.” You admit, “I miss home but I needed a change.”

“Sounds like more than an inherited house brings you over the pond.” Pero finishes cutting the piece and fits it back into the frame, grunting happily when it fits snugly. He nails it in place as he waits for you to answer him.

You sigh, “I wasn’t happy. I was working twelve hour days. Going on endless first and second dates but couldn’t find a man ready to commit. I was working hard to pay my rent but had nothing left to enjoy myself and I- I got sick of the rat race. I needed to leave the city before it killed me. That kind of life…it gets to you eventually. The loneliness.” You mutter, glancing over at the fire.

He snorts, having no problem being alone himself, but that was after the betrayal. Before then, he had imagined spending the rest of his life with his ex. “If you're alone, only you can disappoint yourself.” He tells you, knocking the last nail in place and starting to take the door off the hinges.

You sense there’s more to his words than he’s letting on but you ignore it, sipping your tea while he works on the door. It doesn’t take him long to get the new one swinging and he adjusts the lock. “There you go, señorita. A new door.” He announces and you snort, “least you could do since you’re the one who tore it off its hinges.”

“It was a shit door.” He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck before he bends down and picks up his tool box. “Next time I’ll knock to scare away potential thieves.” He tells you before he nods. “Thanks for the tea.” He murmurs before stepping out and closing the door behind him. He had lost a few hours of work fixing your door and now he needs to get back to it.

You huff as he shuts the door behind him, not even saying goodbye and you glance over at the fire. Just when you thought he could be a decent person to talk to, he shuts up again. “Whatever.” You mutter to yourself and get ready to settle in on the sofa to read before you go to bed. You’re not here to be friends with Tovar. You’re here to find yourself.

****

Over the next few days, Pero keeps busy. His home is still a work in progress, the addition done poorly so he’s having to redo a lot of it. Helping William out on his farm when he needs. Keeping busy and keeping his mind off the neighbor. Sure, he’s checked on the cottage when he’s outside or looking out those windows, but he doesn’t make any effort to speak to you again, knowing that you’re nothing but trouble.

Your days are filled with exploring the village and then working remotely in the afternoon. You’ve actually never felt so at peace. You don’t see Tovar, which is a blessing in disguise. The man still rubs you the wrong way but you find yourself thinking about those brown eyes…even when they are narrowed in hatred towards you. You close your laptop, glancing out at the beautiful sky. It’s cloudy today but still gorgeous so you decide to go for a walk, explore the area some more. After putting on your boots and coat, you lock up the cottage and get started on your exploration.

Pero grumbles at the sky, loading his truck to go help William with the roof of his barn. Wanting to get it done before the rains came again. He gets behind the wheel and starts down the road towards his farm. Traveling about a mile before he sees a figure walking along the wrong side of the road. He scoffs and shakes his head, knowing exactly who it is. Slowing down, he rolls down his window and sticks his head out. “You’re gonna get wet.” He shouts. “Go home.”

You turn your head to see Tovar and you shake your head, looking up at the sky. “Only woman to get wet around you in a while, huh?” You tease with a smirk and he huffs, gripping the steering wheel. “Fine. If you want to get rained on.” You nod, “all part of the experience.” You tell him, “the Irish way of life.”

Pero snorts. “Crazy Americans.” He huffs, handing his hand out the window as he drives past you. You’ll learn. Your coat isn’t enough for the rain that is coming and you will look like a drowned rat if you get caught out in it.

You are stubborn. Something your mother told you was just like your father. Much to her annoyance. You continue walking after Tovar drives off and the wind starts to pick up. You shiver, pulling your coat tighter around you and you look up at the sky as the rain clouds come in. "Bastard." You curse Tovar for being right as you decide to head back to the village.

The last piece of roofing was being nailed into place when the first splatters of rain hit Tovar’s back. “Mierda.” He hisses, glancing up and wincing when a droplet hits him in the eye.

“Good thing we finished. It’s gonna be a blustery one for sure.” William agrees, wiping his forehead and shoving his hammer back into his tool belt. “You should go home. The sheep will come back and file into their barn quickly and I’m gonna shower and build my fire up.” He tells his friend. “You should do the same.”

You shiver as the rain comes down and you struggle to get back to cottage. The wind is strong and pushing you back as you try to get back as the rain pelts at your face. You curse Tovar for being right. You wish you had gotten a ride.

The rain is coming down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see in front of the truck as Pero makes his way back to his cottage. He has to admit that he had gotten busy and didn’t look for you like he had thought to. Surely you had turned back and was cozy and warm in your cottage. He believes that until he damn near hits you. Swerving and nearly running off the road to keep from killing you because you’re walking in the damn middle. Cursing, Pero slams out of the truck, instantly drenched by the downpour. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” He yells, running up and grabbing your arms.

Your teeth are chattering so hard you can barely speak as Tovar grabs you and drags you into his van. You shake so hard your vision is blurry as the windscreen wipers work overtime. He slams the door shut and drives towards the village, cursing that he's soaking wet and you know you're both going to get sick from this chill.

The heater in his little lorry barely works, but Tovar blasts it, pointing the vents towards you. “Idiot.” He hisses. “You should have your pants pulled down and your ass whipped until you cannot sit.” He wipes his face and presses the gas, needing to get you home and out of those soaked clothes. “I told you to go home, but you’re too fucking pig-headed to listen.”

Your teeth chatter but you manage to say “fu-fuck you. I- I was on the way home.” You tell him and place your hands closer to his air vents. You desperately want the heat to seep into your bones and you shiver as Tovar races to your cottage.

“You would have already been home if you had listened to me.” He reminds you, taking one hand off the wheel to start shrugging out of his coat. It’s damp, but it has to be warmer than what you have on. “Stubborn Americans who think they know it all.”

You gasp, inhaling the warm air from the heater. "Wha- what th- the hell is wrong with - why the fu- fuck do you hate Am- Americans?" You ask him, still shaking. You watch as he hands his coat to you. "Put this on." He growls and you don't argue, wrapping his coat around you.

Pero whips his van into the small spot that is closest to your cottage and hisses a curse as he jumps out to run around to your door. Knowing that he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. Get a fire started and get you stripped out of those clothes. Yanking your door open, he drags you out of the seat and tries to shield you from the rain as much as possible. You are shaking violently and he knows you’re close to, if not already, hypothermic. “Inside.”

You nod, letting him take you inside. You didn’t lock the cottage - having heard from the villagers that nothing happens - so Pero shuffles you inside and immediately starts to strip off the coats. You should be embarrassed and angry that he’s stripping clothes off of you but you’re so freezing you don’t care. You shiver and he helps you out of your boots. “Wh-why are you doing this?” You ask, watching him as he leaves you in your soaking wet jeans to work on getting the fire going.

“You could die.” He spits, his hands working quick and steady as he stacks the peat and kindling to light. He needs to get you warm and dry as fast as he can. The damp chill could have you sick with pneumonia within a day if you aren’t careful. As soon as the tender starts to smoke, he turns towards you and unbuttons his flannel shirt. Body head is needed. Stomping off towards your bedroom, he strips the quilts and blankets off of it before coming back into the main room. “Can you take your clothes off, or do I need to do it?”

Your eyes widen at his broad chest as he comes back into the living room with the blankets. You nod, teeth still shattering as you work on removing your wet clothes until you are in your underwear, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Sur-surprised you - you care so much.” You choke out, still freezing cold.

He grunts, rolling his eyes and nearly tells you that he doesn’t care but that wouldn’t be truthful. He doesn’t want to find another member of your family dead. He spreads a blanket on the floor in front of the fire and pushes you towards it. “Lay down.” He orders, immediately starting to strip off the rest of his clothes, including his underwear. He knows you might be prudish like most Americans, but when you are trying to warm up, you can't wear any wet clothes and your panties look soaked. He ignores your gasp and drops to his knees, gathering the rest of the blankets at his back and reaches for your panties, pulling at them to take them off and they shred apart in his hands.

You gasp, knowing you should push him away but when he pulls you close, into his body, into his warmth, you shudder and inhale deeply. Feeling the sensations come back into your body as you give in and curl around him. Breathing him in, you lift your leg over his, trying to get even closer to him, seeking his warmth.

His hands start rubbing, massaging heat and feeling back into your body. He thinks about anything but the softness of your breasts pressed against him. Knowing that if it weren’t for this serious situation, you would not be naked in his arms. “You’ll get warm.” He promises, feeling you shake and your teeth chatter. Your body is like ice and he shudders slightly as he transfers his heat to you under the weight of the blankets.

You breathe him in, thankful for him showing up to save you even if you’ve not gotten along so far. His hands rubbing all over your back and you eventually relax, the shivering stopping as you warm up. You kiss his chest, silently thanking him for finding you even if you can’t vocalize that right now as you curl around him, seeking his warmth.

He knows you will get sleepy, it’s your body’s way to try to recover from the energy it had expelled to try to keep you warm. “Go to sleep, espléndida.” He murmurs quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.” He knows that he can’t pull away right now. Even though you are warmer, you still need more of his body heat to fully warm up.

You mumble into his chest, listening to his beating heart as you fall asleep in his grip, feeling safe despite the man curled around you being insufferable in every interaction you’ve had. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep when you wake up alone, the blankets wrapped around you, the fire roaring and you hear noise coming from the tiny kitchen. “What - Tovar?” You croak, wondering where he went.

His boxers on his hips, Pero appears in the doorway as soon as you call him. “Wait.” He orders, not wanting you to get up. Disappearing again and within seconds, he is coming back into the room with a tray. It was one your grandmother had often served him tea on, so he was familiar with it. Your cup of tea is in addition to a mug of soup. You need something warm in you. The hearty stew was one that your grandmother had canned two years ago, so he knew the rich broth would be good.

You sit up, keeping the blanket tight to your chest as he carries the tray over and he has his boxers on. Shit, he’s attractive. More than that…he’s hot. Really hot. You swallow harshly, throat dry as he sets the tray down in front of you. “Thank you.” You tell him, looking at him as he sits down next to you. “This is - you poison it?” You tease softly, voice a little raw from the cold wind you breathed in earlier.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not poisoned.” He huffs. “I just saved your life, why would I poison you?” He asks, picking up the tea and handing it to you. “It’s got honey and lemon in it, your throat will be raw.” He murmurs, blowing on the steaming liquid slightly before he hands it off.

You take it, your fingers brushing his, and you moan softly as the tea soothes your sore throat. “I- I don’t really know how to start saying thank you for saving my life. I would’ve frozen out there. I didn’t think the storm would come in so quick.” You confess, watching him as the flames and shadows flicker over his face. “I guess I can start by saying thank you.” You say after taking another sip.

“You’re welcome.” Pero is slightly surprised that there’s no sarcasm in your statement. “Almost ran to my house to get some whiskey to pour in it, but it’s still raining outside.” He tells you, the rain beating against the windows. “So, it’s not quite as good as it could be. But I made you some stew.”

You set the tea down and pick up the mug of broth, taking a sip and you groan. “You made this?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Your grandmother. She made it. Canned it a couple of years ago. She gave me some jars.” He reveals and your eyes widen as you look down at the cup in your hands, “I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, “she seemed like a great woman. I- I’m writing a book about her. That’s why I came here. She fell in love with Ireland and I’m writing a romance novel based on her life.” You confess, “her grand escape to Ireland after divorcing her husband.”

He’s surprised by that, lifting his brows and humming. “A romance?” He should scoff, but he can’t manage the sound to come out of his throat. “I guess Ireland would be a romantic place to escape. If you’re looking for that.”

You sip your broth before you look at him. “I must admit I had my wild fantasies dreaming about meeting a handsome man in Ireland and shacking up in a cottage to love our lives away but I- I know that’s - it’s silly.” You shake your head, “especially when I literally bumped into you and you hate Americans.”

“You would hate Spaniards if your ex was one.” Pero tells you. “Especially if he had cheated on you. Even though he would be an idiot to cheat.”

You frown, setting the broth mug down. “You think…your ex was American?” You ask, confused and curious. “And she - shit - she cheated on you?”

Pero sighs, looking out the window. “Sí.” He murmurs. “We were- I met her when we were both stationed on the same base in Iraq. She was with the Americans, I was with …anyway,” he shakes his head. “We got married. She was pregnant. They made her leave her military position and we went to Spain.” He blows out a sigh. “And I found out later that she was cheating on me and the baby wasn’t even mine.”

You inhale sharply, “shit. I- I'm so sorry. That's - Wow. What a shitty thing to do. It’s - that’s monstrous. I’m so sorry Tovar-” You ramble and he cuts you off. “Pero. My first name is Pero.” He says and you nod, “Pero.” You say softly, “I’m sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that. Is that why…why you hate me? Because of my accent? My homeland?”

“She was just as stubborn as you are. Always right and having to have her way.” He shrugs. “I guess that I just don’t like women right now.” He admits after a moment. “I gave my heart to that woman and she tried to pass off the proof of her infidelity as my child.” He growls.

You shake your head, shifting closer to him to reach for his hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Pero. No one deserves that. I - I can understand why I triggered that anger in you. That’s unforgivable and I’m sorry someone did that to you.”

That bastard William had told him that you weren’t his ex. Pero rubs his cheek. “It’s not your fault.” He admits quietly. “You aren’t her and I shouldn’t have been an asshole to you,”

You sigh, letting go of his hand, “and I shouldn’t have been a bitch but I’ve never been good at people not giving me a chance.” You confess and sip your tea. “Can we start again?” You ask and he stares at you so you set your cup down, holding out your name. You introduce yourself, “and you are?” You ask, offering him a playful smile.

He grunts, watching you for a moment. “Pero Tovar.” He tells you. “Grumpy asshole from Spain.”

You chuckle, “great to meet you, grumpy asshole from Spain who saved my life.” You add and he shakes your hand. You stare at him, your smile fading as his grip on your hand is tight, reluctant to let go. You keep holding his hand, your eyes searching his as you keep the blankets close to your chest to keep you covered up until you let it drop, exposing your skin to his eyes.

Pero’s eyes widen and drop down to your breasts for a moment before he jerks his gaze back up to your face. “Hermosa….” He grunts, confused as to why you are showing him your body. “You don’t owe me anything.” He promises.

You nod, "I know. I- I'm not saying thank you. Well, I am. But not like that. I - I think you're handsome." You confess, "...sexy." You add and he frowns softly. "If you don't..." You trail off and reach to pull the blankets up your body, standing up on shaky legs. "Do you want a drink? I think my grandma had a bottle of brandy." You make your way into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around your body.

He thinks he’s embarrassed you and he doesn’t want that. He can’t deny you’re beautiful and he had been fighting an erection the entire time you were asleep once you were warm. Standing up, Pero pulls off his boxers and follows you into the kitchen to find you standing at your grandmother’s drink cabinet. “Do you want me to touch you, hermosa?” He asks, bracing his arms on the counter and trapping you against it, his lips close to your ear. “You are a beautiful woman, and I would enjoy finding out what makes you shake in pleasure.”

You whimper, unable to control the shiver that runs along your spine as he hovers behind you. You want him to touch you. He's been a bastard but you would be dead if it weren't for him. You understand now why he was antagonized by you and you forgive him for his barbs. You lean back against him after letting the blanket drop from your body. "I want you to touch me." You whisper, turning your head to look at him, your lips brushing his chin.

“I’m not gentle.” He warns, knowing that it’s been too long since he has touched anyone and he’s not a suave lover like Garin claims to be. He slides his hand up to grab your breast and squeezes the flesh.

“I don’t need gentle. I don’t want gentle.” You tell him, covering his hand over your breast and you squeeze a little harder. “I want you.” You add, kissing his jaw.

Pero growls, his hardening cock pressing against your ass. “Drop the blanket.” He orders, pulling you away from the counter and dragging you towards the main room. If he’s going to touch you, it will be in front of that fire so you stay warm.

You follow his order, nearly tripping over the blanket as he guides you into the living room and you whimper as he lays you down on the blankets you still have piled near the fire. You lay down, waiting for him to touch you as he kneels down near you. “Pero.” You whisper, biting your lip as you wait for him to make the first move.

He watches you for a moment before he lunges forward, his lips smashing against yours in a hard kiss. Covering your body with his and pushing your thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you as his hands fill themselves with your breasts and hips.

You moan into his mouth, your hands caressing his back as he kneels over you, his hands squeezing your flesh. His tongue slides into your mouth and you eagerly grant him access with a low groan of his name muffled against your lips. Your hands slide down to his ass, squeezing and bringing him closer so his cock is pressing against your thigh.

Pero rocks against your thigh, groaning and pinching your nipple harshly. Kissing down your throat and biting down on your shoulder before he ducks his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth to bite.

"Fuck." You hiss in pleasure as he grinds against you and sucks on your nipple, paying it attention until you are swapping over to suck on the neglected one. "Shit baby." You pant, reaching between you to wrap your fingers around his thick cock.

Pero groans at the feel of your hand. It’s been so long since he’s felt any touch but his own. His cock twitches and his hips buck into your grip. He lavishes attention on you, loving the way you moan.

You twist your arm, trying to jerk him off as he surrounds you, the spicy scent of his skin combined with the smoke from the fire he started. Your free hand slides through his hair as he kisses the skin below your breast and you whimper, getting wetter with each kiss.

Pero is a harsh lover, he bites and scratches and fucks hard, but he’s also attentive. He wants his partner to feel good. To drown in him. Scattering bites over your skin, he works his way south, nipping your hip bone. “When was the last time you were devoured, hermosa?” He demands, cutting his dark gaze back up to your face.

Your chest heaves as you look into his dark eyes, hungry with desire for you and you don't remember the last time you were devoured. You shake your head, "I- too long ago. My ex...he didn't - he didn't do that." You confess breathlessly.

Pero snorts, shaking his head at your worthless ex. “Then you will remember this.” He promises. His tongue slides around your hip bone, dragging across your stomach as he settles his broad shoulders between your thighs and pushes them up to rest there. Making a show of settling in to look down at you glistening cunt. “Such a pretty cunt too.” He smirks, looking up at you again as he lowers his mouth to your folds and winking right before he dives in.

"Shit!" You squeak, thighs clenching against his head in surprise as he licks into you like a man starved. "Pero." You gasp as he flattens his tongue against your clit until he decides to suck it between his lips. Your hands tangle in his hair as you slump back to look up at the wooden beams on the ceiling.

He loves eating a woman out. Loves her taste and the way she responds to his touch and effort to make her scream. His fingers slide around your entrance for a moment and then he buries two down to the knuckle and curls up inside you.

You cry out as his thick fingers curl inside of you. Making you moan his name loud enough for the entire village to hear as you buck your hips into his face. His free hand slides up to squeeze your breast and your hand covers his, eyes squeezed shut as he laps at your clit.

Groaning into your cunt, he samples you. Tastes you like you are the finest whiskey or his precious Spanish wines. Pumping his fingers inside you to find the spot that makes your body spasm in pleasure and growling when he finds it

"Fuck. Oh shit!" You hiss, walls fluttering around his digits as he curls them to find that spot that makes you moan. Your chest heaving as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. "So- yes. There. Cl-close." You pant, stomach clenching.

He growls, sucking your clit in his mouth and pulling on it harshly, before he twirls his tongue around it and starts to flick his tongue over the little bundle of nerves. Pumping his fingers into you faster and harder, wanting to see how hard you break.

You fall apart within seconds. “Oh my fuck - fuck!” You squeal as you clamp down on his fingers, soaking them as you cum for the first time in a long time. Nearly pulling his hair out as you cry out.

He snarls, lapping at you faster and pushing his fingers deeper when you start to cum. Feeling you soak his face as his cock throbs against the blanket on the floor. Working and pushing you through your orgasm with the determination of a man possessed.

He pushes you higher until you have to push his head away, overstimulated, and you feel like your body is on fire from his attentions. “Fuck, I- Pero. I need you.” You beg, “let me - I need you inside of me.”

He grunts, smirking as he crawls up your body. Aching to push inside you and feel those tight walls squeezing his cock like they had his fingers.

You grab the back of his neck when he’s hovering over you to drag him down to kiss him. Your tongue slides against his to taste yourself on his mouth. You reach down to grip his cock again, pumping him as you kiss him.

Pero groans your name into your mouth, almost like a plea. Rocking his hips into your hand and lowering down so you can guide him in. When you notch him at your entrance, he bites your bottom lip as he drills his cock deep into your wet cunt.

You moan into each other’s mouth as he pushes deep in one thrust, making you cling to him as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you are certain you’ll feel him tomorrow if he’s as rough as he claims to be. You wrap your legs around him, the blankets crumpling up beneath you as he starts to move.

Pero doesn’t hesitate. Bracing his hands on the floor beside you, he starts pounding into you at a rough, hard pace. Feeling your walls giving with every deep thrust as he drives himself into you over and over, groaning over how well you are taking him. “Mierda.”

He’s rough and takes what he wants but fuck, you love it. You whine, throwing your head back and he wastes no time leaning in to bite down on the skin above your pulse. Your walls clench around him every time he pushes deep and hits something devastating inside you that no one else has found. “Pero. Shit. Oh God. I- it’s so good.” You almost vibrate as you speak, shaken by his thrusts.

Hissing, he tries to hang onto his control. Feeling it slip as he continues to rock into you. You're so fucking good and it has been the best sex he's had in ....ever. Not even his ex felt like you do. Dropping down to his elbows, he shoves his hands under your back and starts biting along your shoulder, leaving imprints of his teeth with every piercing thrust of his cock.

Each bite on your skin has you clenching around him and you struggle to maintain control until you give in. Whines escape your lips as his pelvis drops into just the right position that he’s grinding against your clit and your heels dig into his ass. “I’m gonna - oh fuck. Pero. Pero!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and practically shaking beneath him as you soak him with your orgasm.

The shout Pero lets out is hoarse and rough, pushing deep and grinding even deeper for a split second before he is ripping free of your cunt. Panting as he realized he had not spoken with you about birth control and he could not risk filling you up. Coating your belly, breasts and thighs with ropes of his hot seed as he spits out another curse.

You pant, watching him as he pumps his cock to paint you with every drop of seed that drips from his body. His chest heaving and you stare up at him in awe. He’s incredible and you know that all your previous fighting means nothing compared to this perfect moment of bliss. “You- you could’ve cum inside me. I’m on birth control.” You tell him breathlessly, knowing it’s too late now.

“Shit.” Pero hisses, huffing slightly and dropping his head against your shoulder. “I didn’t- we hadn’t- fuck.” He grumbles, rolling off to the side and onto his back to reach off his undershirt to wipe your skin clean.

You watch him clean you up and you turn onto your side to look at him, “it’s okay. Maybe next time you could…?” You trail off, biting your lip as you wait for his reaction. Unsure if there will be a next time.

Pero smirks and nods. “Next time.” He agrees, tossing the shirt off to the side and rubs a hand down your side. “How are you feeling?”

You hum, closing your eyes with a smile on your face. “Better. A lot better. I’m warm and satisfied and - thank you again for rescuing me.” You say as you open one eye to look at him, “you’re not too bad for a grumpy asshole.” You smirk, closing your eyes again.

He snorts, rolling his eyes and sighing, “you’re not bad.” He admits. “For an American.” He adds, smirking himself as he moves his arm and nudges you slightly, seeing if you want to curl against him.

You take the hint, shifting to curl into his side and he quickly pulls the blanket over you. You sigh, breathing him in and kiss his chest, exhausted again after his rigorous fucking. You’ve turned a corner with the Spaniard and you’re interested to see how things go from now on.

****

The sunlight starts to shine through the windows of the cottage, the gap in the curtains letting in light that makes you wince as you wake up. “Pero.” You murmur, shifting to sit up and you pat the space beside you only to find the man you fell asleep with is gone. You frown, calling his name again and when there’s no response, you huff. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, you stand on shaky legs and head upstairs to get ready for the day. Perhaps he had an early start.

“You slipped out of the house like a thief?” William shakes his head and frowns at his friend. “Why would you do that? She deserves better.”

Pero huffs and rolls his eyes, shuffling guiltily as he looks up the road towards your cottage. “She’ll be going back to America.” He reminds the Irishman. “I don’t need to be getting myself involved in that mess.”

William snorts, eyeing Pero suspiciously. “I’ve never known you to turn down pleasure. A fling of some kind. Unless you like her more than you are admitting.” Pero scowls again and shuffles, not answering.

It’s been a couple of days since you’ve seen him, which is an accomplishment in the tiny village. You are in the grocery store when old man Sawyer tells you about the village fete. “It’s the harvest festival. In the church hall. There’ll be food and booze of course.” He winks and you chuckle, wondering if Pero would be there. It’s unlikely as he doesn’t like people. “Maybe I’ll see you there.” You tell the older man as you pay for your groceries. “See you there.” He says with a chuckle and you take your bags, pondering if you’ll go to the fete.

You decide later that you won’t hide away so you get dressed and make your way over to the church hall, shrugging off your coat once you’re inside and there’s music from the local band of teenagers and various tables with food and drinks. You immediately feel eager to mingle. That is until you look around to see Pero standing there with William, his dark eyes focused on you.

“Go talk to her.” William shoves at Pero’s arm, making him stumble.

Turning, he glares at his best friend. “Amigo….” He growls, warning him not to mess with him tonight. He’s been busy trying to avoid you and here you are, looking prettier than ever.

“If you don’t, someone else will.” William warns him.

You avert your eyes, pissed off he didn’t even come to see you after he slept with you. You walk over to the drinks table, greeting Gladys who lives down the road from you and she hands you a cup of hot cider. “How are you dearie?” She asks and you sigh, “confused.” You confess and she frowns, “what?” You shake your head, “I’m good, Gladys.” You tell her and she smiles at you, nodding until her gaze shifts to behind you. You turn your head to look and your eyes meet Pero’s. “Hi.” You murmur, fingers flexing around the cup.

Pero looks at you for a moment, studying the anger in your eyes and he feels guilty, guilty for avoiding you. “You’re still here.” That’s what he comes up with to answer you. Hating it the moment it comes out of his mouth, but he won’t take it back.

You stare at him for a second, “I’m still here.” You observe, glancing around the room until your eyes meet his again. “So…you've been busy?” You ask, a little sarcastic but you’ve never been known to be timid, especially when it comes to men who run away from your bed.

“Busy enough.” He grunts, not sure why he even came over. You don’t seem happy to see him at all, not that he can blame you. It’s not like he’s gone out of his way to check in after the other day. He had convinced himself that you still hated him, and had run with it.

You nod, "busy enough to not even stay for a cup of coffee?" You ask, raising your eyebrows at him, "or was it just pity? You felt sorry that I nearly froze to death and you decided to fuck me...or was it so you could brag to William? Tell him you tamed the bitch in Fairy Lodge?" You snort, keeping your eyes on his, refusing to look away.

Eyes widening, he glances over at Gladys to see if she is listening. Shame making his face burn, and in turn, pissing him off. “Nothing could tame you.” He snorts. “I’m not a magician.”

You chuckle, “clearly you are since you made yourself disappear.” You huff, taking a sip of the cider. “If you regretted it, you could’ve just come to see me and tell me that instead of leaving me to think I did something wrong or…or I wasn’t good enough.” You finish quietly.

The sound of your voice is what makes his anger deflate. “I- you’re leaving.” He murmurs quietly. “I - I’m not a casual lover. I don’t sleep around anymore.”

“I’m not gonna stick around and be treated like shit.” You snort, “I could go back to America and deal with American men if I wanted that.” You tell him, setting down the cup of cider just as the band starts to play.

Pero narrows his eyes, hating that you are comparing him to American men. He’s not a boy who plays games, but apparently that’s what he’s been doing with you. “Fine.” He grunts, grabbing your hand. “Let’s dance.”

You let him drag you onto the makeshift dance floor and there's a few elderly couples dancing but everyone has their eyes on you and Pero. "Everyone is looking at us." You murmur and he stares at you, not looking around.

"Let them." He says, pulling you closer and you don't push him away.

"You don't care?" You ask, keeping your eyes on him.

“Why would I?” He asks. “People stare because of my scar. They stare because I’m a mean looking bastard.” He shrugs, used to the looks. “Or they stare because I’m holding the prettiest girl here.”

You offer him a soft smile as he looks at you and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. "Your scar makes you look dangerous...and sexy. And you look grumpy...not mean. And you think you are not good enough but you are...and I- I wish you would let people in to see that." You finish, cutting your gaze across the room to see Gladys smiling at you and Pero dancing.

“I'm not the man you think I am.” Pero grumbles. “I have done a lot of shitty things, even to you.” He reminds you. He doesn’t want you to think he’s some white knight when he’s not.

You look at him again, “no one is perfect. Hell, you know I’m not. I know you’re not. But…but I think you are good deep down. You’re just hurt.” You murmur, “and I know why but I didn’t - we started off on the wrong foot. We were both mean to the other.”

“We should not fight.” Pero agrees, nodding. Even if he doesn’t feel like you know him enough to make that judgment, it’s nice to have someone besides William believe in him.

“I- I’m supposed to go back to America on Monday.” You tell him quietly, wondering if he will pack your bags for you to get you out of Ireland and away from him, from his mistake of rescuing you…sleeping with you.

“Oh.” Pero frowns and swallows harshly. Knowing that he’s wasted time that he could have been spending with you and quite possibly made this better than it had been. “Big plans back there?” He asks.

“Just work and…and I don’t have to go back. I can change my return flight…or cancel it…” You trail off, “unless you don’t want an American living here full time?” You test him, wondering what his reaction will be.

“You still don’t know how to make a fire worth a damn.” Pero tells you, watching your brows pull together in confusion. “It would be hard for you to learn over there. Bet you don’t even have a fireplace.”

You shake your head as he rocks you both to the beat. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be able to make a fire…I’d definitely forget. So…I think I need to stay to make sure I learn properly. Perhaps you could teach me?” You ask him quietly, preparing yourself for him to practically escort you back to the airport.

“It’ll take a long time.” He cautions, pulling you closer to him. “I’d probably need to check on the fires during the night. Make sure you don’t burn down your granny’s cottage.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, tilting your head towards his, “I definitely think you’d need to check on them nightly. I don’t think anyone in the village wants a fire. So…it looks like I’m staying - for fire starting purposes only.” You tease, taking a chance to kiss his neck as you lean closer.

Pero groans at the light contact of your lips, turning his head and capturing your mouth in a kiss for everyone here to see. Not caring if they do and telling them all that he wants you. Claiming you in front of them so that there are no misconceptions about what he wants. You.

You cup his cheek, responding to the kiss, and you let everyone see that you are with him. The parishioners all stare and you smile against his mouth. “Come home with me.” You murmur when he pulls back but keeps his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure, hermosa?” He asks quietly, knowing that he had hurt you the last time he had slept with you.

You nod, “I’m sure. I want you to come home with me and show me how to start a fire.” You murmur, stopping as the song comes to an end and you let go of Pero to clap your hands, waiting for his answer.

Pero smirks, willing to take a risk with you when you are also taking a risk on him. Nodding, he motions towards your cottage. “Let’s go, I need to show you a lot of things if you’re going to live in Ireland.” He grunts. “Starting with how to properly leave a party.” It’s all the warning he gives you before he bends down, scooping you over his shoulder before marching off the dance floor with you like a medieval mercenary carrying off his kidnapped bride.

You squeal, giggling as he carries you out of the hall and you cling to him as he strides down the hall. “Where are we going?” You ask as you tilt your head and notice he’s not carrying you to your cottage. “My place.” He says and you are surprised but let him continue his journey, the wind whipping cool on your skin.

You've never been to his cottage, he's well aware of that. Marching down the road and not slowing down a bit. "Best place to start teaching you is where I am comfortable." He admits, slapping your ass. "Kept expecting your granny to come out and catch me with my ass showing."

You chuckle as he sets you down so he can unlock his door. You lean against the wall as he fumbles with his keys, “she definitely would’ve told you to put some pants on.” You tease and he finally opens the door, “and what’s my next lesson?” You inquire as he guides you inside and you see the masculine but cozy cottage he lives in.

He hadn't really thought much beyond taking you home. Getting you here. He hums, his own fire slowly smoldering and the inside of the cottage warm. "Temperature control." He decides. "What to do when it's too hot."

You smirk, licking your lips as you look at him, “and what do you do when it’s too hot.” He smirks back at you, “get naked.” You nod, slipping off your shoes and you work on the buttons of your dress. “I think that’s a smart idea.”

"It is." He grunts, taking off his jacket and then lifting his shirt over his head. "Getting too hot is just as bad as being too cold." He rolls his eyes towards you. "And you know how that feels."

You glare at him playfully and you shrug your dress off, letting it fall to the floor and you move to push your tights down but Pero scoops you into his arms. “I’m still hot.” You tell him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

"Yes, you are." He won't deny that, arms coming around you and sliding down your sides to your hips. "Your panties and bra are what's keeping you hot." He murmurs.

You giggle, “yes. They are.” You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra as you caress his chest and you lean in to kiss his clavicle as he slides the bra down your arms. You squeal when he grabs your ass, lifting you over to his sofa and he lays you down on it. “Fuck. These need to go.” He growls, pushing your legs apart so he can grab the thin material of your pantyhose and he rips them, making you gasp and wet your panties in arousal.

"Oops." Pero snorts, not even slightly sorry about ripping your pantyhose. He never understands why women wear them, although he can understand under your dress since you are unused to the chill of the Irish weather. He grins and pulls them off your feed and tosses them aside. "Need to teach you to quit wearing that shit." He grunts. "Harder to get to you."

You giggle as he drags your panties down your legs and you spread your legs further apart once he tosses them over his shoulder to expose you to his hungry eyes. “Need to see you too.” You tell him, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"Yeah?" He lets you undo his belt, feeling like you want him and it's a thing to savor. It might be a fling, but the look in your eyes is telling him that he should trust that it will be more. "Taken with me?"

You scoff, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Tovar.” You tell him, working on unbuttoning his pants after you toss the belt aside. You reach into his pants to pull his hard cock out, groaning as you get to see him properly. “I want to suck you off.” You tell him, meeting those dark eyes.

"You don't have to do that." Every blow job he's had in the last few years has been begrudgingly given. Complaints about sore jaws or him always wanting head. He had stopped asking for them, stopped her from giving them if she tried to initiate and it's almost like a reflex. Nothing that can be held over his head, until he takes your wrist and realizes what he's doing. "Uh...my ex..." he bites his lips. "She would always complain about it. Or use it to guilt me into something."

You scoff, “she sounds…wow. Lay down.” You order, pushing on his chest and he nods, shifting to lay down on the sofa and you straddle him. “Too Goddamn sexy for your own good. Definitely for my good.” You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. You slide your tongue against his until you are kissing along his jaw, down his neck, and down his stomach until you reach his cock resting against his stomach. “I want to give you a blowjob. I want to make you feel good. For nothing in return.” You promise and take him into your hand, squeezing him as you look into his eyes as you press your tongue against the slit, tasting his pre-cum.

"Shit." Pero hisses, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he opens them again. Needing to see you touch him. To see how eagerly you want to touch him. It's not all Americans that are horrible, it was his ex. She was a bad apple. He reaches down and cups your cheek. "Fuck baby," he pants, "So fucking pretty and sweet."

You hum around him as you take him deeper. Loving the way he groans and reaches down to caress your cheek. You love the way his jaw clenches and his cock twitches inside of you as you widen your jaw to take more of his length until he’s hitting the back of your throat and you gag, unused to giving head to a long cock like his.

"Pull off, hermosa." He urges, pulling your cheek up but you shake your head and continue to bob up and down on him. Making him groan as he feels the exquisite bliss of your mouth around him.

You want to make him feel good, look after him like he did looking after you when you nearly froze to death. You moan around him, caressing his chest and you bob your head a little faster.

"Hermosa...." he groans, feeling you starting to pull his orgasm out of him and he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to make sure that you cum first. "Ride me." He begs quietly, twitching in your throat at the thought.

You won’t deny him. You pull off of his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and you straddle him. His cock pressing between your folds and you are soaking wet. You look down at him and his hands immediately find your tits. You lift up to position him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto his cock.

"Mierda." He hisses, rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. Bouncing you slightly and sinking deeper into your tight cunt. "You are so pretty sitting on my cock."

“Not bad for an American?” You tease, starting to rock your hips on top of him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him and you know you couldn’t leave. Not with this unspoken thing between you. It’s not quite love but it feels like it could easily evolve into it. You lean down to kiss him, bracing your hands on the arm of the sofa behind his head.

He doesn't answer because he wouldn't even know how to answer. It's not because you are an American, but because you are just you. His hands slide up your sides and he holds the back of your head, deepening the kiss as you start to slide your tongue against his.

You rock back onto his cock, your tongue sliding against his and your hands tangle in his hair, moaning into his mouth as you find an angle that makes the head of his cock rub against your g-spot.

“Shiiiiiiiit.” His moan is muffled and he throbs inside you. Loving how you clench down around him and he squeezes your hip with his free hand.

You moan into his mouth, rocking back onto him and he slips out of you. You whine at the loss of pleasure but he reaches down to push himself back into you and you swivel your hips to find the same angle. You soon find it and rock back onto him, getting closer and closer to cumming.

“That’s it, hermosa.” He grunts out, leaning in to bite your shoulder. He lets go of your head, reaching down to start rubbing your clit. Wanting you to cum for him before he spills inside of you,

You whine when his fingers rub your clit just right and you are close. Grinding back onto his cock, trapping his hand between you, you get closer and closer until you cry out his name. “Fuck!” You choke, clamping down on his cock as you soak him with your orgasm.

"Perfecto." He groans, rocking his hips up and driving his cock deeper into you as he takes over. Letting you collapse against his chest as he wraps both arms around you and fucks you through, chasing his own orgasm. Panting out your name as he thrusts one last time, burying his cock deep as he paints your walls with his cum.

You whimper, kissing his jaw as he pants into your ear. “Cum for me, Pero. Cum. Wan- wanna feel it.” You beg, grinding back to try and egg him on as his cock twitches inside of you.

You moan, loving how it feels to have him paint your walls with his hot seed, silently thanking your IUD as he pulses deep. You kiss along his jaw, “feels so good.” You pant, relaxing on top of him.

"Stay." He murmurs, panting as he tries to catch his breath. "I want you to stay, hermosa." He presses his lips to yours again. "I want to be grumpy to everyone else. Not you."

You nod, pressing your lips to his again. “I’ll stay. All you had to do was ask. I’ll stay and I want to see where this goes.” You tell him, kissing his chin. “You’re a grumpy bastard but you’re my grumpy bastard.” You tease, caressing his cheek. You never imagined you’d come to Ireland and find the man you spend the rest of your life with but you have and you don’t know it yet but you have a beautiful life ahead of you with Pero in Fairy Lodge.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar fic #modern pero tovar #modern au

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shinsmarlboro · 4 months ago

Text

Come around. - A Manjiro Sano Twoshot

TAGS: AFAB!reader, stripper!reader, club setting, slight mentions of Izana

Finding out that you worked for him had felt like you had been shot in the gut. Year after year of running away from everything that you saw in him, dreaming about him and waking up yearning. Yearning for something that would never happen, not in a millennium.

He made it clear 12 years ago. The memory of what he said had failed you tremendously, except for the ache in your heart that grows in your chest when you try to recall that day - the heavy rain, drenched half-conscious bodies & blood mixed with water from the downpour. You were in the midst of it all, staring at the faceless culprit as he grinned, like some psycho, at the thought of inflicting pain to his friends.

The rest of the memory is history, or maybe that's what your brain wants you to think. Perhaps it is doing you good, shielding you away from the remains of the horrid memory.

Oh well.

You had better things to do, better things to worry about like putting food on the table with this capricious job of yours.

You stared at the dolled-up visage in the mirror, before deciding to pick up the fashion magazine on your stylist's vanity table to distract yourself from the impending event to commence in an hour.

As Vivian's hands worked on styling your tresses, you flipped through the pages only stopping to admire the haute couture designs and the vibrant colours used in them while simultaneously keeping an ear out for gossip from her chatterbox co-workers who were also getting pretty and primp.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being watched, you blamed it on the jitters you get before going into the spotlight even after three years in the industry.

You still weren't used to it, the whole experience was different from the previous service jobs you had picked up during your time in college. As someone who kept to themself most of the times, it would take quite a while before you got used to it - that's if, you don't end up quitting from the soul crushing pressure.

But, the pay was good. You had to admit it, and it seemed your quiet allure captured the eyes of a few affluent customers with suitcases.

Minutes passed by like a flash, you could tell Vivian had finished up with the final touch ups when she placed her hands on your bare shoulders. You peered in the mirror once again, admiring the sleek bouncing curls that cascaded down your shoulders, with the help of authentic extensions.

“You look amazing, angel,” Vivian cooed.

“Thanks to you.” You sighed, brushing away the tendrils from your delicate face.

She just shook her head, a small smile adorning her crimson lips before walking away to tend to another worker. Slowly, you rose from the chair feeling an ache in your rear from sitting down for too long and returned the magazine back on the table. No way you could afford skipping your stretching routine now.

You exited the room, unbeknownst to the pair of ebon eyes staring at your retreating form through the screen.

***

To say Izana was angry would be an understatement; IIzana was livid.

“I don't think I'm understanding you, wait.” He adjusted his phone from his shoulder to his left hand. An annoyed chuckle escaped from his mouth. “You mean to tell me that you aren't on the plane to Manila?”

Manjiro picked at his fingernails, clearly not in the mood for Izana's tantrums. “Something came up.”

“I always make sure that Haruchiyo clears out your schedule, Huwag mo akong subukan!”

A crease formed between his brows. “You know I'm still learning Tagalog. I would appreciate it if you didn't use big words with me.” He spoke dryly, brushing back his long ebony tresses.

“Manjiro…” He warned, his tone sounding unamused. The aforementioned could sense he had the grip on his phone on a tight hold as a way to restrain his ire.

“I'll make it up to you, big bro. Say hi to Isadora for me.” He made sure to quickly hang up, letting out a languid sigh as he reclined against the back seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

Knowing how petty Izana was, Manjiro won't hear the end of this. It had been a while since they had last seen each other in five months at least. Izana had business to deal with some prominent gangs in Manila, whilst he stayed back in Tokyo with Kisaki to accompany him on business trips, a decision that had the older brother feeling bitter.

He couldn't be bothered with his antics, he had more important things to do.

But, he couldn't just tell Izana that the stuff it entailed was sauntering into Club Nocturne at 10 PM with a concerned Kakucho. Though he wore a stoic expression, Manjiro could feel it from the corner of his eye, his muscles seemed taut, straining against the fabric of his black trenchcoat.

“Loosen up a little,” Manjiro told him curtly.

It wasn't his fault, his job was to pick him up and escort him to the airport, however now he happened to be acting as his bodyguard as his number two was unavailable at the moment.

He made sure to keep his workers in the dark about his appearance as not only was it a decision made on a while, he wanted to see the look on your face. Were you still the person that lights up at the sight of him, after all these years?

A voice in his head told him that you had moved on, yet the other tempted him with the scenario of a lovestruck expression on your pretty little face, a glimpse of how lovely and warm you were during your teenhood even after he pushed you away.

He hoped he hadn't withered your good spirit with his sombre presence, yet at the same time he wanted to taint you with his madness - have you get drunk off of it.

As they made their way to the VIP room, his eyes never stopped searching for your familiar face. Then again he could always go backstage and pull you aside, but where was the fun in that? He'd just have to wait.

side note: likes & reblogs are STRONGLY appreciated, ily ♥︎

#first time posting something like this #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers manjiro sano #tokyo revengers mikey #mikey x reader #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #manjiro sano x y/n #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokrev x you #tokrev x y/n #tokrev

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gayfanservice · 2 months ago

Note

Kei with a male reader. figure their on the debate club or something and Kei vents to them because their a non biased person regarding volleyball and his team. Figure they give encouragement and kei just bluntly asks them out.

Guess who’s back (back again) I am back! (Once again)

Friends to lovers, i dont know anything about debating

*********

“-and that tiny-ass-mother-”

“Too strong, Kei, try to keep the emotions at an even level so it doesn’t cloud your judgement.”

“Huh? I’m not debating this, he’s tiny!” Kei huffed, cheeks pink and puffed ever so slightly as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Right, sorry, continue.”

Kei was currently flopped on (Y/N)’s bed, who was sitting at his desk, a notepad and pen in hand, looking like a therapist.

“He’s so annoying. We’re doing basic drills and these two just keep arguing! They argue about this, they argue about that! All they do is argue!” His hands dramatically extended to the air.

“Mhm, and how does that make you feel?” Kei sighed at his friend’s poor attempt to be funny, who found it just a little funny to fuck with him. If Kei didn’t like him so much, he would’ve kicked his ass for not taking this outrageous news to heart.

“Awful, because after practice I came here only to have your ass joking about my suffering.” There was obviously no malice behind the words; a playful undertone was hanging from them as his heart sped up. He huffed, again, and rolled to his side, cheeks turning more red, “If you were there, you’d understand.”

“Maybe, the only teammate of yours I know is Yamaguchi.” (Y/N) continued writing in the notepad for a few seconds. “Do you know why they fight?”

“‘Cause they’re stupid.” Kei snorted out, a proud look on his face as he rolled onto his back. “And immature, can’t forget that part.” He heard his friend hum, acknowledging his words. “But, you have no idea how much that twerp gets me so… angry! Genuinely, he’s the most annoying guy I know!”

“Have the captains-”

“Captain, technically there’s just one captain.”

“Just gonna down-play one, got it.” (Y/N) grinned, “Has the captain and co-captain, or whatever term you guys use, talked to them?”

Remembering how the two were literally thrown out because they couldn’t get along with each other, Kei bursted into a short, obnoxiously loud laugh, “You have no idea, they literally kicked them out of the gym until they could get along!”

Surprise was evident on (Y/N)’s face, “Wow, that, uh, yeah, that is a pretty intense hatred.”

Kei let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t deal with those two, I swear.” He mumbled, rubbing his face, glasses pushed up to his forehead. “Thanks for letting me rant, without much interruption of course.”

“No prob, dog-”

“Gross.” If only he didn’t like this debating nerd.

“It’s always good to get stuff off your chest.”

“Is that way you joined the debate club?”

“No, I just like telling people they’re wrong.”

“I- that happens? I thought… actually, I don’t know what I thought.” (Y/N) cackled as he continued writing. Kei’s heart swelled at the noise, staring at the faint outlines of those glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, no doubt that (Y/N) had since childhood. He sighed obnoxiously loud, again, “What am I gonna doooo,”

“Well you could quit-”

“No?” Kei scoffed at the audacity of this man to even think he’d quit volleyball because of those two dumbasses.

“-or you can tough it out. Just because they don’t get along now, doesn’t mean they never will. I bet in a couple weeks they’ll tolerate each other and stop being annoying.” The emotionally intelligent one said, still writing in the notepad.

“Yeah, I will.” As if he wasn’t already doing that.

The two sat in silence, for only a couple minutes. Kei went onto his phone, scrolling through whatever app was available to him. His face was still warm, heart still faster than normal. He liked the other boy for quite some time now, but he never had the guts to actually say anything. Hell, Kei wasn’t even sure if (Y/N) even liked him as a friend, but at this point it’d be awkward if he didn’t, so he assumes yes.

Kei took a deep breath, heart pounding faster and face turning red as he sat up, phone discarded to the side. Might as well confess after spilling your hateful guts, right?

“(Y/N),” He got a hum as said boy stopped writing, making eye contact with a red Kei, “Wanna go out with me?”

(Y/N) froze, the bluntness and randomness completely taken him by surprise. He felt his face heat up and tried to keep his composure, “Wow, very blunt and straight forward, never expected less from you, Tsukki.” He grinned.

“Oh, fuck you.” (Y/N) laughed as Kei deadpanned, not fond of how his friend called him by his childish nickname. “Statement: retracted.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“Wait- no- Kei, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) snorted, amused by Kei’s childish actions, “I’m sorry, you just took me by surprise and I had to get you back! Yes, yes, I’ll date you, sourpuss.”

“Hm, I don’t know if you deserve it anymore.” A smile crept onto Kei’s face no matter how hard he tried to stay nonchalant. (Y/N)’s grin widened, setting the notepad and pencil down.

“Fine, you leave me no choice,” He held his hands up in a mock surrender, “I guess we’ll both just be single for the rest of our lives, forever craving the touch of one another.” He held a hand over his heart, almost tipping the chair over with how far he leaned back.

“God, you’re weird.” Kei feigned disgust at the display in front of him.

The two laughed as they finished whatever they just did, the afternoon sun casting a shadow into the dimly lit room.

(Y/N) got up from his spot, “So, are we dating?” He asked as he sat beside Kei.

Kei’s heart once again sped up at the closeness of the other, “Uhm, I don’t know,” he didn’t know why he was awkward now, perhaps his brain was occupied with how easily he could lay down and finally cuddle (Y/N) like he’s thought of for the past couple of months, or perhaps it just suddenly got really hot out of no where, “are we?”

(Y/N) pretended to think, putting a finger to his chin as he leaned on Kei, “Sure, why not?”

*********

It has been… awhile lol

Read the rules before following

#serviceanswers #x male reader #x reader #tsukishima kei x male reader #tsukishima x male reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader

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reverieblondie · 4 months ago

Text

The Dark Prince: Chapter 1, The Union

Paring- Dark Prince Rolan x Blessed Princess F!Tav

Warnings- 18+ MDNI, will include violence and smut, and two pinning idiots.

Summary- A union bathed in the silver light of a full moon, the eyes of a the fiendish usurper and the moon-blessed princess meet for the first time...

A/N: Chapter one is finally here!! We and sweet anon have been chipping away at this for what seems like forever! (Again huge thank you to them and their brilliant mind! Full credit to them writing and including the vampire spawn parts, if your curious you will just have to read it) This chapter was meant to be longer, but we are saving some fun stuff for you with chapter two

(ゝω・´★) Side note! if anyone knows how I can get some good dark Rolan screenshots to use for aesthetics please let me know! all the ones I find tumbr makes all blurry! Anyway, ENJOY!

<- Prologue

Chapter 2 -> First Night in Waldemar

Lia’s footsteps echo off the dark stone walls, each step a testament to her determination. Her pace is quick, and her anger slowly builds more and more as she draws closer to his office, still debating if she wants to scream at him or punch him. The more the thought swirls in her mind, the further she crushes the parchment. She barely hears as Cal calls her name, desperately trailing after her, begging his sister to calm down and tell him what’s wrong, but it’s too late.

Lia all but rips the dark wood door open before slamming it behind her in one fluid motion, effectively earning Rolan’s attention as his golden eyes leave his papers to meet his sister’s burning gaze. Rolan’s instinct is to ask what’s wrong, but from the look on her face, he suspects he already knows. He doesn’t even flinch when Lia slams the wrinkled parchment onto his desk, her eyes still stern on his face.

Rolan looks down at his sister’s splayed hand as it crushes the paper. His gaze lingers for too long as he sees where her middle digit is missing. Cal finally opens the door with wide, alert eyes as he watches his two siblings. Rolan quickly moves his eyes from her hand as she quickly removes it, the echoes of her scolding him not to stare reverberating in his mind. The silence in the room is defining as Cal shuts the door, and Rolan grabs the note, unfolding it, already knowing what it could be.

Prince Rolan,

Our kingdom praises your diligence towards leading your people and kingdom to a glorious future under your powerful rule. Our court has been vastly impressed by all you have accomplished in the few years since your rise to rulership. However, this should be no surprise when a man has such power like the bards sing that you do.

Our kingdom of Sivailon is grateful that you have seen fit to continue the friendship and alliance between our great nations without letting that peace be tainted by the actions of your predecessor. We hope your graciousness will extend towards other matters, perhaps most importantly, opening discussions regarding fostering the trade that had always flourished between our great kingdoms.”

In the spirit of this hope, Sivailon has chosen to humbly accept your proposal that we reinforce this newly reaffirmed alliance by granting you Princess Tav’s hand in marriage, and his Majesty is honored by your declarations that his dearest daughter shall stand beside you, not only as your Queen but as co-ruler of Waldemar. The people and court will miss our radiant princess, but we pray that the light of Selûne, which lives within her very being, will continue to shine and that it might help guide you toward a just and noble rule.

If our couriers serve us well, you can anticipate our princess’ arrival to your kingdom of Waldemar within three days of receiving this message, alongside three others sworn to her service. May happiness and love bloom in your union.

Rolan lets out a long sigh as he tosses the paper down and begins to stand. Lia pounds her angry fist against the large desk, making Cal jump and forcing Rolan’s attention. She jabs her finger to the note, her eyes never leaving Rolan’s, “What is this?”

For a moment, he holds the gaze of his seething sister as Cal tries in vain to console her before Rolan decides it is best to be honest, “It is a bunch of noble-born cowards tripping over themselves to keep me placated with flattery and performative elation that the vile hellspawn usurper has chosen to marry their divinely blessed princess. Perhaps the latter is more genuine, seeing as they have so readily pawned her off.”

Lia glared at him as Rolan maintained his cool demeanor while anger continued to threaten to claw its way out of her, “I thought we talked about this! An arranged marriage?! What are you thinking?!”

Rolan furrows his brows at her, his own irritation building to a boiling point. Cal is quick to try to ease him as well. Still, it’s already too late by the time Rolan responds, “I am thinking how it has been three years of us struggling to establish our rule, of us fighting against those who would sooner conspire to be ruled over by a mindless ooze rather than some bastard hellspawn! I think I have finally found a way to placate the malcontents by giving them their more palatable figurehead for them to fawn over!

“There are other ways, Rolan!”

“What ways, Lia?!”

“Ways that don’t involve forcing someone into a marriage out of fear for their homeland!” Lia yelled, her voice breaking as tears of frustration began to blur the edges of her sight.

Cal delicately reached a hand out again, silently resting it on her shoulder to console his sister. Rolan stepped around his desk, intending to do the same, but he halted his approach when Lia harshly swatted his hand away and retreated a few paces from her brothers. Her head held high, as it always was. Rolan stood there and waited while Lia scrutinized his expression, searching for any sign that his mind could be swayed from this course. He watched her piercing gaze turn solemn when she found none.

Rolan turns away to slowly move back behind the desk, distancing himself from the bitter disappointment in his sister’s gaze, the weight of it continuing to press down upon his shoulders and chest. He takes a moment to justify himself further to her, “She is a princess. Unlike us, she has been raised with the understanding that this would ultimately be required of her. If it was not to me, then it would eventually be to someone else.”

Lia shakes her head before leaving, slamming the door in her wake. Cal watches the door for a moment before turning back to his older brother, who lets out another long sigh, running his hand through his hair to cope with his sudden stress. The two brothers’ eyes meet, and Cal is the first to break the silence between them. “Rolan, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Rolan feels the hesitation bloom in his chest, but he pushes it down before it can reach its peak and show. He needs to do this…for everyone.

“Of course I do,” Rolan says in a harsh whisper. He quickly grabs his overcoat and letter and heads to the door, and Cal follows behind. Rolan’s eyes are set forward and unwavering. “Now, come on, there is much to prepare before we can get this over with.”

Tav feels herself lurch forward for a second, her breath getting cut short as Shadowheart continues to tighten the laces of the silver and white gown. Tav groans softly before picking up where she had just been in her book, frantically reading as much of the text as possible before the ceremony.

Shadowheart sighs as she straightens Tav’s back from hunching over the book.

"Could you take a break from the books, my Lady?"

Tav hums in response as she continues reading The Devil You Know An Autobiography, “Just a few more pages…” Tav speaks slowly as she keeps her eyes glued to the text.

Shadowheart frowns as her hands move to the waist cord, hastily trying to finish the braiding of the two kingdoms’ colors around in a dual-colored rope; Blue and yellow for Sivailon, crimson and dark blue for Waldemar. The Dark Prince’s kingdom, and soon Tav’s as well.

Growing frantic, Shadowheart looked around the tent before the cleric’s green eyes caught Lae’zel’s gaze with a silent plea for backup; the gith clicked her tongue as the knight took stock of what was left to do and how little time was left to do it before the ceremony needed to start.

Sheathing her sword, Lae’zel approached the princess and her lady-in-waiting before snatching the book from the former’s hands. Tav only made a small noise of protest and lifted her head for what had to have been the first time in hours. The two women stared at each other for a while, Tav mulling over her chances to quickly snatch the book back from her knight before the princess admitted defeat with a sigh as she finally allowed Shadowheart to sit her upright. Satisfied, Lae’zel placed the book on her now vacated stool before plucking makeup and a brush from among the various items Shadowheart had set out and began applying the pigment to their Lady’s face.

“This nervousness is beneath you, Princess.” She spoke in a tone that Tav once would have mistaken for ridicule but which she now recognized as her friend offering reassurance: “My offer to kill him still stands.”

Shadowheart stifles a laugh as Tav shakes her head at Lae’zel’s comment. Though she appreciates her fierce loyalty, she wants to avoid violence.

“I am sure that no stabbings, maimings, or beheadings will be necessary tonight!” Wyll called in from where he stood guard outside the tent, the mirth apparent in his voice. Lae’zel mutters under her breath, disagreeing.

“Though… if the Princess changes her mind…” Wyll casually adds, this earns a groan from Tav as Lae’zel nods in agreement with Wyll.

Capitalizing on the gith’s moment of distraction, Tav sprung to her feet, dodging Shadowheart’s half-hearted attempt to stop her and giving her other knight a playful shove through the tent’s material.

“You were supposed to be the peaceful one, Wyll!” she chastised him without any real bite in her voice, “How else am I going to convince these two not to terrorize the people of my new court?!”

The sound of Wyll’s laughter followed her as Lae’zel firmly guided Tav back to her seat to finish getting ready.

“My duty is to you first and foremost, Princess, even if that means removing some heads with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.” Tav and her small group share a laugh, and the princess feels gratitude again that she will have them with her in Waldemar.

With one final pull, Shadowheart finished tying the waist cord before stepping back to look at her handy work. Tav’s dress, once an elaborate yet traditional Selûnite bridal gown of white and pale blue, was now married with the rich blood red and dark blues of Waldemar’s flag. Lae’zel was finished soon after, allowing the princess to properly thank her friends as she began to admire their work.

“I’m glad to see you approve.” Shadowheart chuckled. “I hope the gesture is worth all your arguing with the High Priestess.”

Tav hums, adjusting her dress’s long silk-like layers as Shadowheart and Lae’zel ready the veil. “It was a well-won victory.” Lae’zel asserted, “Our princess showed great tenacity in that fight. Like a proud warrior.”

“I just hope the gesture is appreciated.” Tav adds as they finally set the long veil over her, Tav studies herself closely till something in the mirror's reflection catches her eye. Shadowheart’s face glanced down solemnly making an ache rush through her chest, “Tav, I wouldn’t get high hopes… He is called the ‘Dark Prince’ for a reason.”

Wyll calls the cleric’s name in slight admonishment, but Tav only sighs, her face growing somber as well, “I know the stories. That’s why this needs to be a good first impression. So many people are counting on this, and I...”

The mood of the tent grows heavy as silence permeates the air. Tav knows what she has agreed to, but it still doesn’t remove the unease she feels—that they all feel.

“You won’t fail them.” Shadowheart says voice firm but kind as she reaches out to wrap her princess, her friend, in an equally firm hug, “I promise. Never forget, your very soul shines with the silver flame of our divine Lady. Her power will always be with you.”

“We all will be,” Wyll assures.

“And should all else fail,” Lae’zel adds as she resheaths her sword, “I still maintain my offer; should you desire, I will kill him.”

Tav smiled at their reassurance, perhaps The Dark Prince should be worried about impressing her.

Rolan felt his patience wearing thin as he continued to stand, waiting for the ceremony to start, the end of his tail beginning to flick irritatedly. It was bad enough he had to be away from his kingdom for this, the ceremony being held on the neutral ground of the druid grove lead by archdruid Halsin, but Sivailon had insisted that the wedding of their precious moon-blessed princess happen at dusk. Rolan let out another sigh of frustration. He has business to attend to and important things to oversee; they need to be getting a bloody move on.

Rolan looks out over the ‘guests’ here to witness the union, some he knows and others he doesn’t care to know. They are all here for the spectacle of the hellspawn usurper marrying a divinely blessed princess. Something many friends and foes wouldn’t want to miss. The Dark Prince turns away and lifts his gaze to the sky, hiding a poorly concealed sneer the thought brought forth.

Soon, though still not soon enough, the fading blur of orange and soft lilac of sunset had finally given way to the dark indigo of night as the shimmering silver light from the full moon peeked out from among the clouds, allowing Selûne herself to be one more silent witness to the cold matrimony. Rolan fights the urge to roll his eyes; it just seems so pointless, but Zevlor’s words to be kind ring in his ears. “Let the princess have this one ceremonial request.” the old paladin had said. Well, now the oh-so-important full moon is here, but the princess isn’t, leaving the Dark Prince to narrow his eyes at where his bride should be as he resists the urge to impatiently tap his foot with the rising frustration at the princess wasting his time.

He has half a mind to stomp over to wherever his bride’s tent is and demand she stop dragging her feet, but his attention is drawn away when the waiting Selûnite priestess is startled by an unnecessarily theatrical clearing of the throat from off to the side. Recognizing who it was almost immediately, Rolan excused himself momentarily before stepping aside to hear what news Astarion had brought.

With the hood of his cloak down on his shoulders, Astarion seemed to be making the most of Sivailon’s insistence that this be a night-time ceremony allowing the moonlight to highlight the roguish glint of mischief in his red eyes, already cluing Rolan in that the spawn probably had good news—and if the Dark Prince happens to have find a shred of bitter satisfaction at the sight of the Sivailon elite growing almost as pale as the stealthy vampire spawn, then that, of course, was just an added bonus.

“No sight of Lorroakan or Cazador,” Astarion whispered to him “No sign of any former Waldemarians, in fact. Seems our dear Sivailon allies kept their word so far and made them all stay in whatever luxurious little holes the kingdom let them flee to.”

“I will consider their word kept once our business here is concluded.” Rolan replied plainly, even as the undeniable relief at Astarion’s news washed over the Dark Prince, “That being said, I do hope I will not have to remind you and the others to still conduct yourselves with care.”

“I promise we’ll not have too much fun on your big night.” The pale elf chortled to himself, “And don’t fret; your betrothed hasn’t fled yet. Violet saw the princess and her little posy on their way here. Turns out your dear wife-to-be really does have a gith following her around. Isn’t that interesting?”

Rolan gives a humorless scoff, not in the mood for Astarion’s teasing, no matter how much he appreciated the update. Dismissing the spawn with a wave of his hand, the vampire slipped back into the shadows, though not before giving a roguish grin at the still wide-eyed priestess to show off his fangs, and Rolan returned to where he would resume waiting for his bride. The Dark Prince leveled a harsh stare at the gaping priestess, wordlessly daring her to make something of it. She didn’t, instead merely closing her mouth as she nervously began flicking her eyes about the gathered people; be it in search of another spawn or something else, Rolan couldn’t care less.

The Dark Prince once again allowed his eyes to wander, first to the sturdy trees surrounding them all, then to the white rugs laid down and sectioning out the guests in a muting divide—a few of whom quickly glanced away as his gaze passed over them. Rolan once again restrained a sneer, for Zevlor’s sake, if nothing else.

The old paladin, standing in front of the other guests and only about a dozen or so feet away from where the Dark Prince stood, had been adamant about attending, though Rolan also suspects Cal and Lia played a part in his general’s insistence—likely wanting to ensure their brother played nice with his new wife. Rolan had made sure the majority of his court stayed in Waldemar, preparing the castle and conducting business as usual. Hopefully Gale has been taking accurate notes in his absence, especially since Cal might be too preoccupied to help and Lia... Rolan tried not to think of the scornful disappointment she looked upon him with as he had departed. Irritation started to simmer again when soft music began to play, finally heralding the arrival of his bride as all save for the guards turned to witness her small procession approach.

First was a fair half-elfin woman with silver-white hair done up in a single long braid and robes similar to those of the waiting Selûnite priestess. A silver chalice encrusted with moonstones was cupped in the half-elf’s hands and her green eyes focused past him, as if seeing through all of this. Next was the gith, also a woman from what little he could recall on them, still armored and with her hand never straying from the hilt of her sword, her yellow eyes glaring fiercely at him, scrutinizing the Dark Prince’s every move. After the two admittedly fierce women, a man, roughly around his age, perhaps younger. Unlike the other two, he looks around at the others present, giving small nods and the occasional smile. As he walks down the aisle in his splendid blue and yellow garb, he thinks that he seems familiar somehow… maybe a noble himself or a son to one? Then her…

Dressed in an elaborate, flowing gown of white and pale blue, set with diamonds and moonstones that caused her to glisten in the moonlight as she moved. Her head was angled down towards her hands, pressed together as if in prayer, and her face remained obscured by a long veil held in place by a polished silver circlet, both just as decorated as she. While nearly the whole gathering of witnesses seemed to pause and admire the sight, Rolan’s eyes caught on her waist where, even through the veil, he spied the colors of her waist cord as she drew closer.

Admittedly, he doesn’t know much about Selûnite wedding customs, but he knows that yellow, crimson, and dark blue are not colors of the Moonmaiden. The Dark Prine bit back another sneer. What did the princess think she was playing at? Did she think a marriage for alliance was the time for... whatever this was? An attempt to stand out, to impose her own spin on something as trivial as the already decadent gown she wore?

The other cleric, the armored gith, and the man all take their places across from Zevlor to stand behind their princess. She comes to stand by the Dark Prince’s side and turns to face him even as her head remains tilted down. Rolan scrutinized his bride with mild confusion. Was she refusing to meet his gaze? Was this meant to be a display of meekness before the Dark Prince or a silent protest against the infernal creature she was marrying? A warm chuckle made Rolan look up where Halsin now stood, smiling beside Zevlor. The archdruid didn’t rush to hide his amusement from the Dark Prince, instead opting to politely glance away while Zelvor, as discreetly as possible, gestures for Rolan to lift and join the princess underneath her veil.

With a sigh, Rolan lifts the obscuring veil, now understanding its ridiculous length. He inwardly grumbled at having to partake in yet more ridiculous custom he was never privy to. Still, Zevlor’s words echo in his head once again as the younger tiefling carefully sets the veil over his horns. “Let the princess have this ...”

Once her soon-to-be husband has settled with her beneath the veil, Tav finally allows her gaze to lift and meet his.

Though she had done her best to prepare herself, she still felt her breath catch in her chest. The eyes of the Dark Prince stared back at her, amber glowing against inky pools of black like the fiery light that rings the moon during a solar eclipse. Standing so close to him, Tav was able to examine the fearsome usurper of Waldemar. Her sheer veil had partially obscured her view of what seems to be a pair of well-kept horns, accentuated with gilded rings and horn caps inset with small gems. Dark chestnut hair was partially pulled back, slightly covering pointed ears and hanging in loose waves that fell just to his shoulders. Tav had known he was a tiefling, but those who had fled from him to Sivailon apparently had overlooked a few features in their descriptions of the Dark Prince. Such as how his sharp features were decorated with a smattering of freckles on pale red skin, giving slight sweetness to a rather striking face.

Fearsomely handsome her old handmaids had whispered… she just wasn't expecting it to be true.

She is only half paying attention to the words of the High Priestess, though Tav still tries her best to keep up with the ceremony’s beats even as they skip certain steps. With every small stepping stone of the ceremony they reached, the arrangement felt more and more real.

“Now, under Selûne’s radiant light, we ask the Moonmaiden to bless this union, to guide them towards prosperity that shall never truly wane.”

With how quickly the ceremony moves, it takes Tav a moment to realize they’ve already reached the imbibing offering. She’s apparently not the only one lost for a moment, as it takes an urgent look from the High Priestess and a friendly alert from Wyll before Shadowheart hurries to the princess’s side to hand her the silver chalice. Tav catches her friend’s eye as she accepts the vessel full of milk from her lady-in-waiting, giving her a small smile, which the cleric returns. After uttering a short prayer, the princess takes a sip of the cool liquid, focusing on the refreshing chill down her throat, before holding it out to the Dark Prince in turn. His brow furrows as he silently looks down at the cup, confused as if she were holding out a toad.

After a beat, he leaned in slightly, “No, thank you.”

Tav might have found mirth in how the High Priestess balked at the Dark Prince’s rejection had it not also taken the princess herself by surprise for a moment, though she kept a grip on her own expression.

My customs are not his, she reminds herself, so she instead merely passes the still partially filled cup back to a wide-eyed Shadowheart. The princess catches a glimpse at Wyll’s equally wide-eyed expression before he subtly places a firm hand on Lae’zel’s shoulder; the githyanki’s hand had moved to clutch the hilt of her sword in a death grip as her slit eyes glare daggers toward the Dark Prince for his public insult to her princess.

After that brief hiccup and skipping over the ring exchange, it was time for the part they knew was coming: “Now to bond this union with a kiss.”

It’s as if the forest itself is watching, waiting with bated breath for the divinely touched princess and the infernally tainted usurper to proceed. They haven’t even had a conversation yet, but now they must...

The Dark Prince looks down at her, and Tav feels the weight of his scrutinizing stare as surely as she feels that of the attendees, even as his expression gives little else away. His luminous eyes flick down to her lips. With a steading inhale of the cool night air, the princess lets her eyes flutter shut and tilts her head closer. Tav feels his warm, clawed hand cup her cheek, her heart thrumming as she feels his breath calmly cascading over her flushing face. Then, the brush of soft, firm lips alight upon her cheek.

It was so chaste, so brief that Tav hardly registered it had happened at all before the tiefling was already retracting his hand. Hells, she’s sure the guests are probably as equally surprised.

The head cleric seems stumped momentarily before they wrap up the ceremony. The King and Queen of Waldemar, whose union was sealed with a kiss on the cheek…

The High Priestess also seemed stunned, stumbling over her next few words as the ceremony ended and Shadowheart removed the veil from their heads.

Though the haste of this whole affair was far from traditional, the two newlyweds still went through the motions of walking hand-in-hand down the aisle as the attendees lauded the new King and Queen of Waldemar, whose union was sealed in a rather unusual way.

Once away from prying eyes, the Dark Prince leads Tav to a pair of carriages already hitched and ready to leave. Standing by them, she sees three cloaked, rather well-dressed, rather pallid individuals standing guard. Three sets of red eyes look back at her, and suddenly, Tav feels her blood grow cold as she realizes what they are.

“Leaving your adoring public so soon?” one of them, an elf with white curly hair, coos at their approach, grinning in a manner that feels anything but friendly and which doesn’t even attempt to conceal his vampiric fangs. He wears a fancy doublet of dark maroon with silvery and gilded embroidery, which glints in the moonlight, along with the dagger he casually twirls about in his hand.

An elven woman with her own fanged and mischievous smile giggled, coyly brushing a lock of pale, wavy, and elegantly coiffed hair from her shoulder to tuck it behind her ear. She was garbed in a comparatively simpler, but no less splendid, dark red outfit.

Before the elven woman could speak, the third, a tiefling herself with black hair that had been braided and pulled back into an elaborate bun, hurriedly hushed the other two, “Violet, Astarion, enough.” Her eyes flicked from the newlyweds to the other two vampires to the ground as her clawed hand nervously adjusted the string of small medallions decorating the dark blue coat of her delicately constructed outfit; the vibrancy of the red cloth underneath only further drawing attention to the pallor of her red skin.

Tav hadn’t realized her own feet had stopped moving until the Dark Prince—Dark King—gave her hand a tug before releasing it. With his warmth gone, she lets her hand fall limply as she watches him keep his stride.

Coming back to herself, she becomes aware of an older, armored tiefling—who she recognizes as the man standing behind her now husband during the ceremony—sharing a handshake with Halsin.

The burly elf gives her a warm smile when Tav approaches, once again offering thanks for allowing the ceremony to take place on their land and with such short notice.

“The land is not ours, your Majesty,” Halsin rumbled soothingly, “We only live among its bounties and shield it from undue harm.”

“Then we thank you for trusting us with it for this evening.”

Halsin’s kind smile grew even further before he seemed to remember something, “Before you and yours depart, I thought it only appropriate that our grove offer you both a wedding gift as I understand the others in attendance have.”

Tav didn’t have the chance to assure the archdruid that such a thing was unnecessary before the large elf presented her with a string of leaves.

“I’m afraid it is not as elaborate as the other gifts you will receive from this night, but these are from the sacred oaks at the center of our grove.” he explained, “I felt it was the only thing befitting this occasion.”

Tav felt her mouth drop open slightly at the druid’s words, and she reached out for the gift offered before hesitating. Reaching up to unclasp the heavy necklace she wore, she passed the jewelry over to Wyll, who stowed it away in one of his pockets, before accepting the string of oak leaves and having Shadowheart help her affix it around her neck. Halsin’s expression, having momentarily dimmed in confusion and worry when her hand had retreated, warmed once again upon seeing her now carefully ghost her fingers across the leaves.

Tav opened her mouth again, either to apologize for having concerned him or to thank him once again. She wasn’t sure, and she would never get the chance to know.

“Your husband could be in more of a hurry, but then his ass would be on fire…” Shadowheart sneered, prompting Tav to look behind herself towards her friend and lady-in-waiting.

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” though her words don’t come out sounding as self-assured as she’d hoped, even to her own ears, “We-Sivailon insisted on having the ceremony so soon in order to have it done beneath Selûne’s full gaze. He- We probably have other things we need to get back to in Waldemar.”

“Well, it seems he is rather eager…” Lae’zel hissed, her eyes focused on something off to the side with undisguised contempt, “Your husband and his undead are already leaving in the carriage without you.”

What?!

Sure enough, as Tav hastily turns to follow her knight’s gaze, the newly made Queen is greeted by the sight of one carriage already departing. Neither her King nor his vampires were in sight—at least not until a dainty pale hand briefly poked out from the carriage window to give a parting wave before disappearing again.

Tav’s brow furrows, but she quickly tries to school her expression as Halsin politely goes to take his leave and return to the grove. Not sure what else to say, Tav thanks him once again and the archdruid and the older tiefling part with an exchange of well wishes that carry an air of friendliness beyond mere cordiality. As the druid departs, his large frame vanishing into the forest, the sound of metallic armor shifting and brushing against itself alerts Tav to the armored teifling’s approach.

He gives her a tight but seemingly genuine smile and bows, “Your Majesty, my name is Zevlor, General of Waldemar’s army and, tonight, your carriage’s extra guard to help lead you and your people to our palace.”

“Pleasure to meet you, General Zevlor.” Tav lowered herself in a small curtsy, nearly missing how the older tiefling’s eyes widened slightly, “I appreciate your guidance and protection, but may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Isn’t it customary for the King and Queen to ride together?”

“Ah...” Zevlor’s expression pinches for a moment as if trying to restrain a grimace while his gaze briefly flicks over toward where the King’s carriage continues to draw further and further away from them, “Rolan—that is to say, the King—thought you would be more comfortable traveling this way. You will be riding together once we reach Waldemar proper, but until then, it seemed right to allow time for you to… adjust.”

Adjust?!

Tav pressed her lips together, now holding on to a tight smile of her own as her mind screeched in frustration that such a decision had apparently been made for her. Dragging in a purposefully slow breath, she focused on the sensation of the crisp night air filling her lungs rather than the rising tide of her irritation. They had not been married for more than an hour and had hardly stood in each other’s presence for much longer; it was far too early to lose patience with her co-ruler now.

Yes, Tav reminds herself, it had been the Dark Prince’s idea that she would be ruling at his side. It certainly would not be good for her to fixate over what had to be an unintentional and ultimately minor slight from her husband.

Releasing her breath, she smiled now more sincerely at the general, “Well, we had best make haste, lest we keep the others waiting.”

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forestshadow-wolf · 1 year ago

Text

Soap likes danger.

Not like he's running head first into it- well ok he does, it's his job to- but like he's not looking to get hurt. he'd be lying if he said the danger didn't send a little thrill through him though.

He just simply doesn't run from danger. he listens to his COs, doesn't take unnecessary risks, especially with civilians around. He does his job and he does it well. But that's not where it rears its head.

No, it's found during mundane moments on base. Like training, when he spars he wins alot sure, but it ends in a loss or a draw just as often if not more. Always 2-1 or 3-1 or some other combination to make it a proper challenge. When he spars with the lieutenant, the grin on his face never wavers, like he's having fun. When the bull-headed recruits get angry that they lost to one man, that's a head shorter than them, he smiles when they get in his face.

Team building exercise with another military base included rugby once, it teaches motor control, and technique for hand to hand takedowns. Teams lost, things got heated, people got shoved. When he feels the force on his back, he follows the movement and uses it to push back up. When he sees the big Australian storming over he can't help the toothy grin the slides into place. A hand grips his shoulder, but he grabs the shirt and pulls the man down to his level so the man hears him laugh, which only seems to anger him more. Before it gets too far, the lieutenants are pulling them apart, and soap goes easily, adrenaline warming his veins pleasantly.

And it's not that he's arrogant, or that he lets his ego take over for him, though he is confident in his capabilities. And it's not that he doesn't see the danger. He just simply doesn't get intimidated by it, after all why speak for your ability when it could speak for itself? Isn't that a better show of what you can do?

Ghost thinks it's, perhaps, the hottest things to see. Sure at first it was annoying, having built his entire military persona on being too intimidating to interact with. And then this annoying bitch just come up to him, punches him in the shoulder, and refuses to leave him alone. Smiles even when threatened with a fight, and that smile says "please do".

And they did fight about it. Many times. and somewere in the middle of one of those fights, locked together, forhead to forehead, shoulder to shoulder. That ghost looks into those stark blue eyes, and the too perfect grin, and his face screams "give me more". And it's then that ghost realizes that seeing a face like that, so full to bursting with life and joy, it puts a feeling in him, like being pleasantly full for the first time ever. Or feeling the morning sun on his face after a decade in the dark. And ghost can't help but give in, to push harder, to fight back. And christ alive if he isn't absolutely whipped and waiting for that expression that he's only ever seen grace one man's face so properly, the way it does for soap.

#el rambles #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod #cod mw2

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jillsandwhichs · 3 months ago

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RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 5 , "Office" work

Masterlist

Pairing: F!reader x Albert Wesker

Summary: You and Albert are doing an experiment together and decide to experiment with something else

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Co-workers

WC: 3.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: You two argue, Angry make out/sex, Choking, Slapping, Dirty talk, Spanking, P in V, He pins you down, Cums inside of you twice, Hair pulling and No aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

This is it. This is the moment you and Albert have been anticipating. As he used the tube to drop some of the tablets into the mixture, you two stepped back, waiting to see the results. What the two of you have been attempting to do was enhance part of the T virus, not that it needed it, it was already extremely strong, but Albert and you wonder what it could possibly do. Any lifeform that injects it into them could experience anything, Albert has already offered to be the subject for it, but you're unsure.

The liquid began to fizz and bubble up like soda pop. "Step back." Albert pushed you back with him, the thought of the vial shattering due to heat or it overflowing and somehow managing to hit the two of you was scary - Neither of you wanted that. That entrancing blue liquid began to change into a more thicker substance. "Oh Albert, I believe it is working." You said to him with a soft tone. "Let's not get our hopes up." Albert replied, his voice rather deep and sly sounding, like a fox would sound if it were human.

"And if it does work?" "We'll use it on the ultimate life form." "You?" You questioned the slim, blonde man. Albert only laughed in reply. "You shall see, dear." He always either called you dear or love, maybe it was something he did with all of his former female colleagues.

As for Albert, you don't know much about him. He did tell you on vital thing though and that was that he once worked for Umbrella, those damned bastards. He met you through The Organization though, but you split from them. They were a little too sketchy for your liking. Now ever since, the two of you agreed to work together to bring the T virus into it's most important state, the state that'll enhance it like never before.

Finally, the virus stopped fizzing and went back to it's normal look, although it was still thicker. "When are we going to use it on the uh, 'Ultimate lifeform'?" You asked of him, watching as he slipped his gloves up to pick up the vial. "We? Love, I thought we only agreed to work on it together, not to stick together." He chuckled, screwing the top back onto it and slipping it into a white case that had the Umbrella logo stained onto it.

Ignoring his last words, you spoke up, "Umbrella?" "Need not to worry, it's merely a cover up, therefore, they'll assume it's the doings of the tragic pharmaceutical company." Albert assured you, setting the smaller white case into a black brief one. Little do you know, he's a double crosser.

"Let me help you, I helped you with this, let me see what our creation does." You demanded, you were relentless, Albert liked the spunk you had to you. "No, no, no, you aren't apart of the initial plan." "Now I am." "No you aren't, dear." Albert spoke with a condensing tone which absolutely rubbed you the wrong way. You knew Albert was off, you knew he was far from a good man but somehow you had managed to trust him, confide in him and truly think he'd allow you to see what you helped do.

Albert began to tread off, ignoring your pleas, as if he had absolutely no care in the world. You doubt he ever did. But working with him, you thought the two of you had formed something. You didn't expect to be friends with the man, hell, you didn't want to be. He does realize you know more than he thinks you do, correct? You may be gullible but you aren't fucking stupid. You know he's the captain of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha Squad, which he never thought to make you aware of.

"You will let me help, or else I'll leak what you've done to the public, and all those puny S.T.A.R.S members and that bastard Irons will know of your doings." You yelled as he headed for the white sliding door, he soon paused in his tracks, his head tilted down as he shook it. "What did you just say to me?" He growled. The man turned around, setting the brief case down and speedily headed towards you. You backed up, your back hitting one of the desks, a glass pitcher tipping over. You were scared of him, even if you didn't want to be.

He grabbed your neck, it wasn't hurtful, it was a light choke, but it sure as hell kept you in place. "You want to repeat that?" He grunted, his face only inches from yours. "You heard me, I'll tell them, I'll tell them all." You said sternly, attempting to get out of his grip. This had all happened so quickly. It was like a bomb dropping out of no where. His cat like shaped eyes stared into what seemed to be your soul, as if he was reading you and trying to catch a lie somewhere in your words.

"You know nothing." Albert shouted, slamming you against the wall. Your head hurt afterwards, despite the fact it was only a push. "I know a lot more than you think. I know about you being the captain, I know that you plan to betray them and shit, you probably aren't just working for The Organization either." You rambled on, Albert seemed to be surprised yet amused. "How'd you figure this all out, hm? Who're you truly working for?" "The Organization, because unlike you, I am not a shitty person." "Yes you are, you're helping develop a virus that could wipe out mankind." He shut your statement down real quick.

Both of his hands gripped the white counter top, anger in his face evidently. "Why?" He yelled, "Why must you help?" He was furious, clearly. You stepped closer to him, not being as scared as you were before. "Because, I want to see what it does, I wanna see what it is you plan to do." "But it's none of your business." "But it'll be the Police Department's business when I let them know what their precious captain has been up to." You countered his sentence. He scoffed rudely.

"You're pathetic." Albert spat out at you, pulling away from the counter and once again getting in your face. He was mad, really mad. You felt scared but not as you did before. If anything, this was the first time he wasn't so monotone; He seemed real as of now. Those blue orbs of his were easy to get lost in, and you found yourself finding it hard to get out of them, time and time again. He was furious, yeah, but he looked better than ever, admittedly.

Are you truly pathetic?

"Am I?" "Very much." "How so?" "Look at you, black mailing me. Scum to the Earth, you are." "As if you aren't completely black mailing the R.P.D." You stated rudely, crossing your arms and stepping closer to him, standing up for yourself as you should. A sly smirk formed on the mans face, seeming as if he was pleased by something. The smirk soon faded as he spoke up again. "I could kill you." "Yet you haven't." "Yet I will." "So then do it." You know he won't. He can't. He defies himself to not do so.

Now, it was as if the two of you were in a staring competition.

His cold, icy eyes were staring into your soft, delicate ones. You didn't know what to think nor what to say. You were stumped, he seemed to be too. Anything you said, you were able to clap back ten times harder. A look of defeat was plastered on his smooth face, irritatied is most likely how he was feeling.

You went to turn away, wanting to just get out of this mess but before you could even proceed with one step, he pushed you up against the wall again and smashed his lips to yours. Utter shock. "Why do you defy me?" He growled, lifting your arms above your head and keeping them there. You grinned into the kiss, your gentle lips mad against his obsessive ones. "Because someone has to." You snorted, kissing him back, oh how you've yearned for this. Albert was always an attractive man.

You'd be lying if you said you've never imagined how this very moment would go down.

You attempted to move your hands, but ultimately failed. He kept you in place. You wanted to touch him though, feel his slim body. "You enrage me." "You think you don't do the same?" You mumbled against his lips, moaning as he pressed himself into you, your body shoved up against the wall completely. His fingers were wrapped tightly around your small wrists, making sure you weren't going anywhere. "You should just be obedient, but no, you just can't be, can you? Do you give your other co-workers this difficult of a time?"

Great question! You don't. Just him.

"It's none of your business, what I do with other workers." You stated cockily, this earned a light slap to your face before he then grabbed it, staring at you once again. "You're a brat." He grumbled. "I am?" You were so cocky, so snarky. He couldn't stand it. It were as if he was looking into a mirror. He couldn't stand how similar you are to him, he couldn't believe there was someone out there like him. It drives him literally mad.

"Tell me," He began, a seductive tone playing off of his tounge. "Is this what you want? Hm? To be fucked? To be told what a brat you are? Because frankly, you seem to be enjoying this." He teased, his face once again so close to yours. "Is that what you want?" "That wasn't the question." He then practically tossed you against one of the desks, having you bent over in front of him. "I'll make sure this is quick, brats don't deserve the good girl treatment." Albert hummed out, you could hear him messing with his pants, then yours.

This was it.

"What are you going to do?" "Fuck you, hard. Make sure you stop disobeying everything I tell you, and what others tell you. Clearly, you need it." Albert scoffed at you. You felt pathetic but oh, in the best way imaginable. You allowed him to pull down your baggy, gray pants, the cold lab air hit your legs instantly, your faded unshaven hairs sticking up and your stomach doing a twirl; It felt more like excitement rather than being affected by the cold though.

"Pull your panties down, slowly, and stay in position." He ordered sternly. You were frozen. You didn't know if he was being serious or not. "Did you hear me?" "Yes..." "So get to it then." He grunted, taking his hand right across your ass. You didn't know whether to smile or yelp, both maybe?

You took both of your hands on either side of your panties, slowly yet surely pulling them all the way down. You could feel Albert staring you down, glancing at your ass as you listened to his demand. A pool of wetness sat in your panties, soaked into them, you wondered if Albert was hard or not, he had to be. You felt scared, being completely nude from the waist down now. You are self conscious, hopefully he doesn't notice that about you.

He came up from behind you, lifting your stomach up slightly, causing your legs to lift off of the ground and when you did that, he used his dress shoe to pull your panties out from below you. You turned your head to the side, waiting to see what he was going to do and what he did totally caught you off guard. He picked up your underwear, scrunching them into a ball and sniffing them, his eyes closing gently as he did. The pheromones releasing from them and into his brain seemed to cause the erection in his pants to only grow worse.

You could literally see the imprint through his underwear.

"Smells amazing." He growled, now taking off his undergarments.

Your breath shuttered, you were in awe with how this man was. He could be so angry yet so sexy all at once, how was that even manageable? He stuffed your underwear into the pocket of his lab coat, then he grabbed ahold of your waist, a grin on his face that you couldn't see considering he has you bent over the table. You felt his manhood press against your ass before he then pulled his underwear down, his hard cock hitting your ass, then part of your center, earning a soft sigh out of you.

"You will be quiet, don't make a single sound, got it?" "Yes." You nodded, resting your head against the table, on your arms which were also set on it.

Behind you, you heard some shuffling before you felt his dick enter you, not even a single fucking warning. A small squeal came from you, your eyes widened and you heard Albert's "Tsk, tsk tsk..." From behind you. "Stay silent." That was going to be your only warning, you presume.

He began to pump himself into you, every inch feeling never ending. He had to at least be six or seven inches, oh he was so big. He was on the thicker side though, you could tell. His girth shot into you like a bullet flying out of an automatic, he just didn't let up. His hands held your waist in place, his long fingers trailing on your midriff, all over it. You could hear his moans behind you, at least he was enjoying this as well.

It was hard to stay quiet. You wanted to moan, whimper, all of it. You needed to let out something. It simply felt so good. "Crazy how quiet you get once you're being fucked." Albert taunted from behind you. The sound of your guy's skin slapping was rowdy, especially when he'd go into a frenzy, he'd go super fast and hard, that's when it felt best. "Can I speak?" You whined out, closing your eyes tightly as his thrusts got deeper, hitting that far, sweet spot. "What do you have to say?" He questioned you.

"It feels amazing." You giggled, lifting your head up, stabling yourself finally. "Oh, does it now?" "Mhm." You moaned, instantly covering your mouth, but that didn't last long as he pulled your arm behind your back, then the other one. "No, uh uh, no cheating your way out of this, my dear." Albert teased, one of his hands holding your wrists in place, his other still on your waist. Your entire torso was laying on the white table now, it was a bit uncomfy but it was difficult to think about that when he was dicking you down.

With each thrust, the desk beneath you shook and shifted, pushing itself further up. Albert hadn't seemed to have taken notice of it though, unless he simply just didn't care. "You're such a bad girl, so disobedient." You were. He wasn't wrong. But look at him now, fucking it out of you. Maybe he's the bad and dirty one.

Like he read your mind, he pounded into you harder, his cock twitching within you, your tight walls clenched around him, your cunt dripping. "Bet you've had more than one worker fuck you like this in attempts to get your attitude straight, hm? But they never fucked you this good." Albert huffed out, his other hand now on the back of your desk. You felt paralyzed but there was no complaining from you, him man handling you was needed, you deserved it.

"No one can fuck you like I can." He finally stated before you felt his cum stream into you, earning the loudest moan out of you, it was so unexpected. You would've at least thought he'd pull out, but nope. "Jesus Christ." You attempted to stand up but he shoved you back down. "I'm not done with you yet." He began to move into you again, his erection forming back up inside of you, filling up your walls. "What?" "I'm not letting you go til you cum around me." Albert established with you.

Wow, what a gentleman...

You rolled your eyes at his statement.

How could he immediately go back to fucking directly after cumming inside of you? That's rare for men, super uncommon. But overall, you aren't complaining.

His hand that was on the back of your neck now slithered up to your hair, gripping it as he fucked you. Gosh, it felt amazing, it was a such an adrenaline rush. "Oh fuck." "Stay quiet." He groaned, tossing his head back as he continuously slammed into you. Oh you could feel it, your climax was about to hit it's peak, your pussy clenched around his member, milking him once again, his semen inside of you. A total creampie.

You then also came, all around his length. He pulled out of you as you did, leaving you there to have an orgasm alone, without his touch. You held onto the table for dear life as you did. "Ohhh fuck." You whimpered, your legs twitching. You truly can't recall the last time you were fucked that good, it felt wonderful. He really knows how to use that dick of his. "My God." You chuckled, turning around as your orgasm died down but all you seem was him getting dressed immediately.

"Where are you going?" "Away." "Already?" "Do I have any more reason to stay?" He didn't seem to care at all, he was so nonchalant about this entire situation. You remembered your panties being in his possession. "At least give me my underwear." You sighed, being kind of upset with how he was just planning to up and go. Did he have no heart? "Hmm." He thought for a moment. "No, I'd rather keep them, use them for later." He snickered, that turned you on a bit but his actions were nonsense.

"So what, you just fuck me and leave? What's your deal?" "My deal? I needed to fuck the bitchiness out of you, guess that didn't work." "Albert..." "My love..." He mocked you, a chuckle coming out from him as he went for the door but you stopped him once again, for the last time. "Am I able to help and see what our creation will unfold?" You asked him, pleading at this point. "You know my email, my dear." He smiled menacingly before he walked out of the office, leaving you there, naked.

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