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cuddlepilefics · 3 years ago

Text

Ginger Ale and Crackers

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: Chan & Changbin

Prompt; @sicktember

No one's POV.:

About halfway through their afternoon dance practice, Felix' stomach had started to give him hard time. All the jumps they had been practicing had left his stomach unsettled. He had felt hesitant to drink anything during their breaks, afraid the next jump or turn would send it right back up his throat. That hadn't happened but Felix had admittedly barely had any water during the afternoon, so it wasn't much of a surprise that by the end of their practice, his head felt swimmy while also pounding painfully. With how much he had been sweating, he clearly had to be dehydrated, yet he was still unsure whether he should have a drink. They were done with practice, so there wouldn't be any more jumps but the thought of swallowing alone almost made him gag. Felix himself had no idea why he was suddenly feeling so bad. He had been fine this morning and hadn't eaten anything weird since then. Maybe he had just overdone it with his dancing, going all out, but that was what he usually did, yet he never felt like this after dancing. Looking at his water bottle with an almost disgusted expression, the Aussie shoved it into his bag and waited for his members to pack up, so that they could head home. He was exhausted, almost too exhausted to take a shower but he knew he'd be uncomfortable all night if he didn't.

Not daring to eat dinner for the fear of upsetting his stomach more, Felix crawled into bed right after taking a shower. He had been plagued with cramps the entire time he was in the shower and had barely managed to stand up straight, wanting to curl up into a tiny ball right there. When Chan came into their shared room to get the younger for dinner, he found the boy deeply asleep, hugging his pillow to his middle. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, the leader left and quietly closed the door behind him. He made sure to save Felix some food in case he woke up hungry before telling the rest of the members to keep it down a bit. The next one to check on Felix was his other roommate Changbin. After dinner he went to their shared room to collect his headphones, finding the Aussie tangled in his sheets, groaning quietly. It worried him a bit, knowing how hard the younger had been working lately. Seeing him this exhausted was just heartbreaking for the rapper. He too decided not to disturb his dongsaeng, hoping he would get as much rest as somehow possible. It felt wrong to see their energetic sunshine like this.

Felix had stayed asleep the entire time, no matter how loud the rest of the members in the living room were. He didn't even hear his roommates come and get ready for bed. All he knew was that by the time he woke up again, both of them were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Unlike Felix, who had woken up in cold sweat. His breath got caught in his throat when he was hit with another cramp, the pain unexpectedly intense. Whimpering quietly, he felt his stomach turn, now more than certain that he was going to be sick. Felix heart sped up, knowing he had to get to the bathroom fast but afraid he'd be sick immediately if he as much as moved a single muscle. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he rolled out of bed, hand clamped tightly over his mouth as he stumbled to the door. Throwing it open, he staggered down the hallway, dizzily crashing into the wall next to him. As he fought to get his footing, his stomach cramped, sending a gush of his lunch up. Feeling the warm mush spill through his fingers, the Aussie's eyes stung with tears. He tried to avoid the puddle as he dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet, instantly throwing up more.

Chan awoke with a start to their door slamming against the wall. Shooting up in his bed, he found Changbin awake as well, looking at the older with a horrified expression. Only a few seconds later, they heard a muffled cough followed by a splattering noise. Cursing, Chan got out of bed and hurried down the hallway, only barely avoiding the puddle of sick. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. Hearing faint cries behind the door, the leader rushed to find Felix draped over the toilet, head buried in the toilet bowl. The dancer startled when he felt his hyung's hand on his back. "Ssh, you're okay", Chan promised, rubbing his back. Felix wanted to laugh at him, telling him that he was very much not okay, but before he was able to get a single word out, his stomach lurched again, a large wave of his lunch splashing into the bowl. Changbin had followed them not long after, frowning when he saw the position his friends were in. Felix' chest was hitching with quiet sobs, which certainly didn't help his stomach settle. Retching again, the dancer reached behind him and took a hold of Chan's had. He clutched onto it tightly as he kept throwing up. When he finally got a chance to breathe, he rasped: "Can you turn off the light? It's too bright." Changbin was quick to comply while Chan continued to rub his dongsaeng's back. "Do you have a migraine?", he asked carefully, afraid his voice would hurt the other more. Felix shook his head, gagging weakly before he was able to reply: "My stomach's been bothering me since dance practice."

Sighing, Chan brushed his hand against Felix' neck. "You're running a fever too. Is that new or did it start along with your stomach", he hummed worriedly. Giving a strained cough, the dancer groaned: "I don't know? I just knew that my stomach felt bad, so I wanted to sleep it off. Oh god, please make it stop." Before Chan could say anything, Felix had ducked his head into the bowl again, retching painfully. While the leader tried his best to comfort the younger, Changbin went over to the sink and ran a washcloth under cool water before draping it across the dancer's neck. They could barely see anything as the only light source was the hallway light streaming through the cracked door but they didn't have to see much, the short glance they had gotten earlier had been enough to see how ghostly pale their dongsaeng was. Felix seemed to be done for now and tiredly rested his head on his arms. He just wanted to go back to sleep. That was when he remembered the mess he had made on his way. "Ugh, I -I got sick in the hallway too", he whimpered, raising his head to look at his hand. Looking at the bits of his lunch still stuck to his hand only triggered another gag. When Felix was done, the tears wouldn't stop falling, his fever messing with his emotions. Handing him a wad of toilet paper to clean his hand with, Changbin whispered: "I'll clean that up... don't move."

While the rapper fetched the cleaning supplies and took care of the mess in the hallway, Chan stayed with Felix, helping him up from the floor, so he could wash his hands properly and handing him some mouthwash to get rid of the vile taste. As they made their way back to their room, Felix shakily clung to the leader's arm, his head spinning. "You're okay, almost there", the older promised, when Felix' legs suddenly gave out. Catching him around the waist, Chan picked him up bridal style and carried him the last few meters to his bed. The sheets were a mess and it took the oldest a while to detangle them, so he could tuck his dongsaeng in. Placing a bottle of water on the nightstand and pulling the trashcan out from under the desk, Changbin hummed: "Here's the trashcan if you need it. Try having some water when you feel ready, we don't want you to get dehydrated." – "Thanks", the younger rasped quietly, eyes already fluttering shut. Falling asleep however wasn't as easy. His stomach was still in knots, rumbling loudly. "Was your stomach making all that noise?", Changbin frowned, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, sliding his hand under Felix' shirt. The dancer hummed in confirmation, relaxing as the older stroked his stomach in soothing circles.

By the time Chan had to get up for a meeting with their managers, Felix had been up retching over the trashcan twice. Neither times was he able to bring anything up though, which wasn't surprising, considering he had skipped dinner and had barely had anything to drink. Although he hated to wake his members when they were sleeping, Chan carefully woke Changbin up by shaking his arm. "Hey, could you stay back from the studio today?", he asked quietly, afraid to leave Felix at the dorm by himself, "I'll tell the others to just go to their schedules as usual and come check on you two as soon as the meeting's over." – "No problem, I couldn't focus anyway, knowing he'd be sick and alone. I got him, hyung, don't stress too much", Changbin whispered, waving the older goodbye before going back to sleep.

The rapper woke up again hours later to a weight on his chest. Yawning, he tried to sit up, only to find himself pinned down. "Sorry, I was cold", Felix mumbled lowly. He had woken up not too long ago, his stomach still hurting but not as nauseous as he had been before. Instead, he was shaking with chills. Bringing his hand up to the Aussie's forehead, Changbin hummed: "Your fever's up. Did you try to drink anything yet?" The dancer shook his head not even opening his eyes. He really didn't want to be sick again, so he wasn't willing to risk it. "You're getting dehydrated, Lixxie. Isn't your head hurting?", he frowned, running his hand through his dongsaeng's hair. "It is", Felix admitted quietly, "But so are my stomach and throat. I'm fine as long as we just stay like this." Sighing, Changbin decided that they could stay like that for a little while longer before he'd try to get the younger to drink something again.

It was already close to lunchtime when Changbin decided he wouldn't let Felix go without having at least some water. Luckily, the Aussie was awake, merely resting with his eyes closed, because the rapper didn't think he could wake the boy. "Come on, Lix", he whispered, "At least have a few sips and if you let me get up, I can go and see if we have any medicine. Just not consuming anything isn't going to help. It'll only make you worse." – "Hyung", the dancer whined, holding onto Changbin's shirt, "Please, no." Though Felix had his hyung wrapped around his little finger, the older knew better than to give in. He wouldn't let his dongsaeng get worse. If Felix wasn't getting up, he would have to get the Aussie off of himself. Carefully shifting to the side, Changbin managed to slip out underneath the younger and gently removed his hands from his shirt. "Sorry", the older cooed, pulling the blanket up to Felix' shoulders and leaving the room.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, Changbin found some anti-emetics and made his way to the kitchen. He knew Felix didn't want anything but after skipping dinner and throwing up, the dancer needed something in his system. Guessing that plain rice would be the safest option, Changbin grabbed a small bowl and took it back to their room. Felix' water bottle was still untouched on the nightstand. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he ran his hand up and down his dongsaeng's back. "Can you sit up for me, Lix?", he hummed, peeling the blanket back. The Aussie let out a discontent whine but propped himself up on one arm. "Can you try and have a few bites of rice and some water for me? I also found you medicine", the rapper tried. Shaking his head, Felix insisted: "No, medicine yes but the rest no." – "How are you going to get the medicine down without water?", Changbin quizzed, "Come on, sunshine, for me?" The dancer huffed but shuffled around till he sat up against the headboard. Accepting the bowl of rice from his hyung, Felix eyed the food with disgust before forcing himself to take a small bite into his mouth. Slowly chewing, he pulled a face and handed the bowl back. Changbin didn't take it back though, instead giving the younger a stern look. Pouting, Felix forced down two more bites before handing the bowl back to his hyung, who traded it for the water. He also handed the dancer a pill, which he swallowed dry before taking one tiny sip of water. "Lix, I'm pretty sure you're already dehydrated. You did so well, I'm sure you can take another sip", Changbin hummed, earning a glare from the younger. Though he didn't want to, Felix had some more water before handing the bottle back.

His food wasn't settling at all and mere minutes later, Felix sat hugging his churning tummy as his mouth watered. "H-Hyung?!", he choked out, hand clamped over his mouth as his stomach gurgled. Noticing the boy's slightly greenish complexion, Changbin rushed to place the trashcan into his lap. He knew he had been pushing it but he had hoped the medicine would keep him from throwing up again. Sitting down next to the dancer, Changbin gently massaged his shoulders as they waited. With his breathing coming in nauseous little huffs, Felix felt the room spin around him, desperately holding onto the trashcan to steady himself. He could feel his food right at the back of his throat but it wasn't coming. Hesitantly, he gave a little cough, which was all it took for his stomach to send everything up. Though he was pretty sure, everything he had just consumed had come up in one rush, Felix couldn't stop his throat from contracting with unproductive gags. Coughing, he choked out: "I hate you." – "I know you do", Changbin sighed, comfortingly rubbing the younger's back and brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. He felt sorry for making the Aussie sick again but if he kept going without keeping down any water, they'd have to take him to hospital.

When Felix finally deemed it safe to remove his head from the trashcan and lean back against the headboard, his forehead was glistening with sweat. His shirt clung to him making him feel even more disgusting than before. Changbin grabbed the trashcan and placed it down on the floor. "Let's take that off, hm?", he asked, gently pulling the dancer's shirt over his head, "Are you still cold? Do you want one of my hoodies as compensation?" Felix nodded tiredly, barely finding the energy to lift his arms, so the older could put it on him. "How about a change of scenery? The others are gone, so you could nap on the couch. We could put on some boring drama in the background", the rapper offered. Nodding, Felix rasped: "Sounds like fun but... Can you carry me? I don't think I can make it there." – "Sure thing", Changbin chuckled, picking the younger up. Placing him down on the couch, he told the dancer to wait there, so he could get a bucket and his water in case the Aussie would let himself be talked into drinking something. After getting everything settled, he lifted Felix' head and placed it on his lap, so he could play with the younger's hair. Exhausted from the whole ordeal, it didn't take long for Felix to drift off again.

While Felix was asleep, Changbin texted Chan about the dancer's condition, emphasizing that he really couldn't keep anything down at all. Now becoming more worried too, the leader stopped by a store to pick up some ginger ale and crackers for his dongsaeng. He hoped those things would settle better, at least he knew that that was what their families had always used in such situations. If it didn't help settle his stomach, it might at least give the younger a sense of home. While walking, Chan already started to shake the bottle of ginger ale, opening it repeatedly to get rid of the fizz. He quietly entered their dorm, not wanting to wake Felix up if he was resting. The sight looked truly pitiful. The dancer laying on the couch with his head in Changbin's lap, face white as a ghost except for a faint feverish blush on his cheekbones. He was wearing one of Changbin's sweaters, arms hugging his middle in his sleep. Chan wordlessly waved at Changbin, not wanting to disturb as he went to the kitchen to pour a glass of ginger ale. He also grabbed a small plate and put a few crackers on it. They looked really lonely but he'd already be happy if he could convince Felix of having a few of them.

Hearing a hushed conversation in the living room, the leader figured Felix had woken up and made his way over to them. "Hey, Binnie told me you're still not doing so well", he whispered with a sympathetic smile. The dancer shook his head and glanced at the things Chan was carrying. Realizing he was most likely supposed to eat that, he couldn't help but grimace already. Crouching next to the couch, Chan rubbed his arm through the hoodie and hushed: "I know you don't feel like eating that but we need to get you back on your feet somehow. You always used to eat those, right? Don't even have to be many crackers." Groaning, Felix sat up and rubbed his face. He knew Chan was only trying to help, Changbin too had meant well but his stomach was till so upset. He didn't think he could stomach anything. "I got all the fizz out of the ginger ale, so hopefully it will settle a better", the oldest mused, glancing at the box of medicine Changbin had left on the table, "Have a cracker and then just try having this medicine again, please?" Scrunching up his nose, Felix nodded and accepted one of the crackers. He took his time, nibbling on it. It didn't feel that bad on his stomach, so he nibbled down another one. The ginger ale really reminded him of home and he gladly took the medicine again. Sitting on the couch, he rested his head on Changbin's shoulder. Every once in a while, he took a small sip until the glass was empty and he laid back down to let the older lure him back to sleep.

#stray kids #skz #fanfic #fluff #sickfic #fanfiction #sick #sicktember2021 #comfort #emeto #changlix #chanlix

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one-boring-person · 3 years ago

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Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous.

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way.

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning.

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right.

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression.

"About what?"

"The setup."

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look.

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin."

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room, where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside.

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly.

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be.

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously.

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself.

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

#tango and cash #Ray Tango #Raymond Tango #Ray Tango x reader #Gabe Cash #Gabriel cash #Gabe Cash x reader #Sylvester Stallone #Kurt Russell #break writes #Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 25 - Easily

Masterlist; Chapter 24

Summary: Finally.

Warnings: 18+ (a lot of things happening 😌); swearing.

Author’s Notes: Hello 2 am upload 🙈 but at last... here we are. This one took a lot of effort... and getting into the zone. 10k words long scene... who else would be capable of this, huh? 🙃

I think this is as much of a crucial one as the finale will be and so I hope you’ll find it... satisfying. Enjoy (hopefully) and let me know what you think?

P.S. the song for this one is Muse ‘Easily’ (which is also my favourite song hence you know *wink wink*)

The cabin was silent save for the sound of your shallow breathing. Even if you wanted to break the silence, there were no words for this. Nothing useful in the dictionaries to describe it. Ineffable.

With your heart fluttering nervously within its cage, you returned Neil’s intense gaze. You knew what this was – seeking reassurance. A question whether the kiss did what you needed it to do. In an answer, you could only lift your head and crash your lips into his in search of more. Your hands slid down his neck and arms to rest on the sides, slowly inching underneath the shirt. With Neil’s arms trapping you beneath him, there was nothing else to do but let go. The stifled feelings and desires took the lead as you kissed him with all the urgency of a starved beggar. That took him by surprise. He gasped when you tugged at his lower lip ferociously and grazed your fingernails over the skin on his back. He broke the kiss, darkened irises roaming over your face with evident infatuation. He seemed fascinated, as though the strength of your desire was unexpected. Idiot. After a moment, Neil leaned in again, setting up a slow tempo with his lips brushing over yours almost tenderly, building up the unavoidable heat. You shivered, letting out a quiet whimper that he caught, smiling against your mouth. Your tongue darted out, tracing the outline of his lips, drawing out groans. The overwhelming familiarity settling in with warmth spreading across your chest. It was always supposed to be like this.

Neil leaned down on his forearm, using the free hand to hike up your sweater and trace featherlike touches down your navel, as far as the band of trousers would allow. The simple gesture was enough to make you tremble. He noticed it, smirk adding a predatory gleam to his face, and repeated the torturous move. Teasing, tempting you as though you needed anything more to be convinced. Nothing else mattered. Only this. Frustration boiling over, you took hold of his chin with one hand, forcing Neil to meet your wild gaze. His eyes glistened with a passion that still had the potential to make you breathless. He raised his eyebrow in silent question, hand still roaming freely over your body, causing goosebumps wherever it went. Forcing the brain to work, you whispered out a command:

“More” meeting his gaze with unhidden desire, you licked your lips unconsciously.

He caught it, grin widening as his gaze flicked between your mouth and eyes as though unable to focus.

“Of what?�� leaning in, Neil brushed his nose against yours.

“You,” using the hold over his chin, you swept your thumb over his lips, prying them open.

He did not need more information than that. His mouth collided with yours eagerly, wasting no time to deepen the kiss and take everything you had for him. It felt just like you remembered. No unnecessary tenderness as you both got lost in each other. Sighs and groans punctuating the moment with impatience. The pull that always took you aback was still there, making you cling as close as possible. With one hand resting on his side, just next to the familiar bullet scar, you could easily hoist your leg over his hip. You had to get closer. It seemed like the matter of utmost urgency. The change of position made Neil break the kiss. He was breathing heavily as his hand slid down your thigh in a gentle caress. Another simple gesture causing havoc in your veins. You gazed at him, exposing the inner needs by impatiently tugging on his shirt. Closer. Whatever Neil saw in your eyes gave him a clue. A mischievous spark in the blue irises before he started trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth to the jaw and down the neck. With each touch of his lips and brush of the stubble, you inhaled sharply. He always knew what to do to make you fall apart within seconds, expertly using the experience of all those stolen moments to choose the spots that were bound to make you squirm with increasing pleasure. A small peck underneath the ear. A light bite near the collar bone. Nerve endings alight. Defenceless, you exposed more skin for his use by tilting your head, helplessly letting your hands roam over his chest. The firm muscles an object of pure fascination. Yours. Soon you have been resolved to sighs and gasps, bucking your hips against his with undeniable need. The warmth spreading with alarming speed, hazing your mind. Only one clear thought remained. You had to have him. To make him yours.

“Neil, please…” the weak plea was enough to make him stop.

He placed a final reverent kiss on the edge of your jaw and met your eyes. No shame. A teasing smirk dangling off the corner of his mouth.

“Begging for mercy already?” the husky tone sent shivers down your spine.

Aware of your struggles, Neil ran his fingers up and down your thigh. Certain kinds of touches made the fabric seem almost non-existent. You wanted to put up a fight, to find a biting comeback. But that part of your brain has shut down, locked on that one incessant thought – closer. And so, you did your best to let that longing into your eyes, as you whispered:

“Let me touch you,” purposeful, shamefully desperate.

Neil swallowed, shocked by your honesty. The simplicity of your wishes. You caught a glimpse of something strange pass through his features before he once again captured your lips in a breathless kiss. You cupped his cheek, tracing all the sharp angles. He broke away, leaving a breath of space, the perfect opportunity for you to kiss the tip of his nose. You grinned at his stunned expression, filled with fondness that had the potential of shattering your heart into smithereens. It would be worth it. The soft smile assured you of that.

After a beat, Neil straightened, kneeling above you, extending a hand in an invitation to get what you asked. You took it without a second wasted, shifting on the bed so you could face him. A flutter of anxious butterflies swirled in your stomach as you reached out, fingers settling on his shoulders. Neil placed his hands on your waist underneath the sweater, caressing the skin gently. He was observing you curiously, fascinated by the urgency you have shown. You ran your hands down his arms, feeling the biceps, briefly intertwining your fingers. Encouraged by the lack of protest, you gathered up his shirt, lifting it, showing him what was necessary. Neil smiled, placed a kiss on your forehead, and took over your attempts, taking off the garment and throwing it to the side. Your mind went blank as it always did. Eyes darting to admire and devour what was already familiar. Then, as though caught within a dream, you placed your hand over his heart and met his gaze.

“Is this better?” a hint of a smile upon his lips as Neil pulled you closer.

Despite the need pooling in your veins, the heart let out a painful thump. After everything, it was almost incomprehensible. Him with you like this. Like it always should have been. Overwhelmed with love, you pulled him into a tight hug. The warmth of his skin feeling like a revelation, you hid your face in his neck. Without hesitation, Neil returned the embrace, nuzzling your temple with audible relief. Finally, you knew what home felt like.

“I missed you” the whisper felt almost like a confession of something far more substantial.

And you knew why.

Neil froze. Fuck. You could tell that something was wrong. Worries confirmed when he let out a strange choking sound and released you abruptly. Blood turned cold as the panicked butterflies went into a frenzy. Please no. Before you could read anything from his face, he quickly stood up and turned away from the bed. Muscles tense, shoulders squared. There had to be a solution. Fighting to keep the panic under wraps, you stood up, watching him closely. He was motionless, hands covering his face as he let out strained breaths. Whatever you did caused havoc within his mind. You had to help him. That much was clear. Courage, dear heart. You crossed the space, tentatively reaching out trembling hand to touch his back. Upon the contact, Neil gasped quietly, as if surprised you were still there, willing to solve it. Using the lack of objection as encouragement, you took another step closer and pressed a light kiss between his shoulder blades. Your arms wound around his waist as you closed the remaining gap, resting your head against the firm muscles. After a moment of reluctance, Neil’s hands covered yours. That was all the assurance you needed to ask the critical question:

“What’s wrong?” the emotions weighing down your voice, making it come out hoarse and quiet.

His fingers glided over yours, brushing the knuckles with the care you never dreamt of experiencing. Whatever was bothering him could not taint the truth. Your fragile reality locked within the intimacy of the moment. Neil took a deep breath, tensing again as though bracing himself against something terrifying. Then he started speaking:

“You deserve an explanation after all that… mess, and yet, here I am trying to…” he trailed off, anxiety and frustration permeating every word.

Your heart cracked upon the realisation. Before you could gather enough words to protest, he continued:

“I worry that I’m pressuring you into this… that I’m asking for too much-” the weariness gnawing at your soul with force.

“Neil, stop,” you cut in sharply, tightening the embrace, “Don’t make it sound like it’s one-sided. I want it too,” your voice wavered as your face warmed up.

Obvious and yet… Admitting it felt like a step too far, like you were the one who could mess it all up by being too eager. The doubts were ready to step in, but you could not let them. Lost in the internal battle, you have not realised when Neil stepped away from the hug and turned to face you. He tilted your chin, making you meet his gaze. Conflict painted across the features you knew by heart. He was nibbling on the bottom lip again, eyes roaming across your face with worry.

“Are you sure?” he breathed out a question, blush tinting his cheeks, “Because it shouldn’t… it wasn’t meant to happen like this”

Briefly, you wondered how was it that neither of you could use the words for this. Actual adult words. But maybe those would come later. You understood his worries, feeling your fears creeping at the edge of the desire and love which took hold of every single cell within your body. There would be time to give them a voice after. Now, all that mattered was Neil and making him understand what you needed. Convincing him that what he tried to stifle was what you wanted. You took one of his hands between your palms, gently rubbing the knuckles:

“We will have to talk, but now… now I want to let go” meeting his gaze purposefully, you let the words fill the tense silence “After weeks of feeling unwanted, I want to forget. To let myself believe that this is real…” unwanted tear welled up in your eye “Only promise I need right now is that this will mean something to you” you finished the sentence, fingers thoughtlessly travelling up his forearms.

There it is. An offer he was free to reject. The only truth that mattered. Somewhere within the past hour, you have realised that you were ready. That no matter the regrets that could follow, you had to give in. Let him have everything should he want it. There would be nothing revolutionary about it, just a natural step on the journey that began months ago in that café in London. Unavoidable.

Neil was watching you closely, catching up on the meaning of things you were not saying. He took a step closer, the struggle slowly giving way to the longing you have seen before. And honesty that could easily murder you with its authenticity. He met your gaze before speaking:

“It will. I want you. And not only now. Not until it happens, but always” you felt like drowning in the boundless adoration you could see in his face “It’s just that I’m terrified of fucking it all up because I care… so much” Neil swallowed hard, frowning at his sentence “Christ, that sounds like a terrible understatement…” with the hand shaking slightly he ruffled the hair, betraying nerves “You’re everything I want. The reason why-”

Oh god. You feared that if he said even a word more, you might just about crumble on the spot. From the excess of love, affection, and disbelief. Each consecutive sentence felt like a stab into your heart. But there was no pain, just too much of everything. You wondered whether it was always supposed to feel like this. Like being on fire. Like the chest bursting from the abundance of passion. You closed the remaining gap, fingers curling around his biceps. Before he could utter that final catastrophic sentence, you whispered:

“Shut up” without waiting for a reaction you pressed your lips against his.

It was your time to lead, pouring everything you felt and could not dare say into the kiss. After a second of reluctance, Neil started kissing you back. The idle hands grasping onto the nape of your neck. Fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you even closer. Small sighs and groans he let out into your mouth kindling the spark. The fix for an addiction you were long due. The sweetest of relapses. The taste of absolution. Infinite potential.

After over a minute, he broke the kiss, gasping for oxygen, eyes clouded with infatuation. It was that look in his face that gave you the courage to reach out for what you needed. You took hold of his hands and breathed out the words that could destroy everything:

“Love me,” unable to meet Neil’s eyes you placed his hands on your hips, “Show me what it’s like to be wanted,” your voice cracked, exposing the storm unfolding inside.

You had to find a way of shutting up the doubts, the uncertainties. Of getting lost in him. Of getting what suddenly seemed just as necessary as water and food.

“I-” he choked out the syllable making your gaze snap up to meet his.

You could see it there. The three words ingrained within the blue eyes, lips parted and ready to proclaim what you could not dare believe. Not yet. Now the confession could kill you, delivering that final blow. He had to understand. It was the only way you could make it work. By acting on the instincts.

That is exactly what you did, rendering Neil speechless with something as simple as a kiss placed on his shoulder. Then more all along the collarbone, taking the sharp inhales and tightening hold over your waist as consent. At times you would let your teeth lightly graze over the skin, reminding him of the potential. Stopping at the sternum, you glanced up, only to be met with Neil’s piercing gaze looking down at you without any guards present. Only unbridled desire and love. Bravery filled your veins as you continued the meticulous exploration. Your hands gently caressed his stomach, tracing the various scars and imperfections. Once you reached the other shoulder, pressing a pious kiss on one of many beauty marks scattered over his skin, Neil lifted your chin. He kissed you on the forehead softly, drawing out a sigh. A thank you for something you would have given him anyway. Then, without breaking the eye contact and making sure you noticed every single emotion visible in his face, he cupped your cheek:

“May I?” one single question whispered with enough certainty to make your heart stumble.

Somehow you knew what he was asking. With blood pounding in your ears, you nodded. Once, curtly, decidedly.

“Yes,” a little breathless, cheeks turning pink.

Anything. Always.

In response, you got one of those smiles that lit up his whole face, making everyone understand why Neil was worth dying for. Without wasting time, he tugged at the borrowed sweater you were wearing and took it off over your head in one swift move. For once you were glad there were no layers. His eyes flitted over your torso covered only with a black sports bra. No judgement or calculation. Just as if he wanted to commit you to memory. As if you were an object of art one could fall in love with. The blush darkened as your breath hitched, awaiting the next move. Neil took a step closer again, a curious glint in his eyes as he leaned down. Featherlike touch all over your chest, followed by gentle kisses on the collarbones and shoulders. You gasped, the softness of his lips contrasting with the scratch of the stubble and the light bites. Testing the waters, returning the favour. You closed your eyes, focusing entirely on the moment, resting your hands on his sides. It felt almost too blissful, slowly making you crave more. Experimentally, you ran your fingers over his pelvic bones, grateful for the low-rise trousers and the possibilities given. Neil finished his study with a kiss on your neck, choosing the spot that always made you shiver with anticipation. You opened your eyes only to be met with a look of adoration:

“Thank you,” his words breaking the heavy silence.

There was something new in his expression. As if now, after everything, he realised that there would be no more hiding. And he was not afraid of whatever would happen. Blind conviction. Belief in you and whatever you had. Afraid of disrupting the moment, you lowered down your voice to ask:

“For what?” your brow furrowed, trying to understand what he meant.

Or why was he suddenly looking at you as though you were the centre of his universe. There was no getting rid of the blush tinting your cheeks. Of the nervous flutters in your stomach and fire flowing in your veins. You knew it would only get worse. Neil watched you closely, a small smile on his lips. Then he finally answered, with more confidence than you could ever deem possible.

“Being extraordinary,” he whispered the words softly, inches away from your mouth.

Oh my god. You did not even try to school the features, showing the boundless extent of shock, disbelief, and astonishment. He meant it; that was undeniable. Your heart stopped for a millisecond, unable to process a compliment like that. Far from a cliché. Exactly what you could need. Before your vicious brain could come up with a disagreement, you closed the gap, expressing how it felt through the kiss. A long, chaotic one that meant you soon lost the coherence and perception of surroundings. Everything was Neil, and Neil was everything. He always gave you his all in those kisses, opening his mouth almost instantly, brushing his tongue against yours. It was as if for him this was a way of getting lost. You could not help but wonder whether he would be like this further down the line too. In desperate need of oxygen, you took the breath from his lungs, earning a muffled groan along the way. You smiled against his mouth, certain that this time you would have the upper hand. An advantage.

That is until you suddenly felt something soft against the back of your legs. The bed. Your brain caught up at the last minute, a small yelp slipping out as Neil pushed you down to perch on the edge of the mattress. How even… Exasperated, you opened your eyes to understand the intentions. That too was a mistake. In a second, you were struck with the sight of Neil deliberately kneeling on the floor at your feet. He met your gaze with a tiny shrug as if you should have expected it to go this way. Any thoughts of blonde bastards and their antics could not win with the overwhelming fondness. He was quite the image. Shirtless, dishevelled, and bewitched. By you, of all people. The devilish glimmer in his stormy eyes added an edge to the look. A fallen angel determined to take you with him. As if you wouldn’t want to take the plunge anyway… On its own accord, your hand darted forward, fingers carding through his long golden strands. His gaze darkened; you could almost see the thoughts swirling, ideas about the next steps. Then, as you cupped his cheek, something clicked. Neil took hold of your palm and angled it to kiss the pulse point. You held your breath, unable to break the eye contact. The hints of a smug smile as his lips trailed down the tracks of your veins, leaving pecks every few inches. You never knew skin could feel like that. Like being ablaze.

As his study neared your upper arms, you could not stop yourself from blurting:

“Why-” the attempt got stopped with a finger against the lips.

“Shush” fuck.

Your eyes widened upon the command. It was the combination of the steel resolve and his low tone that did it. Or so you told yourself as you felt the familiar jolt within the core. Neil’s finger brushed over your mouth, tracing the outline of your lips. He must have noticed the increasing hunger in your eyes, for he grinned and resumed the caress.

You were not sure how the next few developments happened. In one moment, Neil was leaving kisses all over your forearm, leaning over your knees to get access. The next, he was comfortably positioned between your legs, one hand resting atop of your thigh, the other causing shivers all along your stomach with the careful strokes. From this position, he could easily do whatever he wanted. Which he did, his mouth travelling southward of the familiar territory, lips brushing the swell of your breasts and then below the band of the bra. You felt worshipped, seduced with utmost care. Another light kiss over one of the upper ribs was enough to make you whine in frustration you could not control. Neil’s eyes snapped up to your face, taking in the longing and frenzy painted all over. No smile this time, only a soft brush of his lips against yours and then:

“Can we go slowly?” the question was whispered almost shyly, “I want to learn you” to prove the point, his fingers ran down your side, checking the reaction.

You shivered, swallowing hard at the obvious implications behind the question. Somehow the idea that Neil did not mind your slow pace felt too good to be true. No one has ever been that generous before. Not daring to take chances upon him changing his mind, you nodded, lost in the way he was glancing up at you. Undiminished trust and fascination. So much love. Afraid to spill too many words, you retorted quietly:

“You know me pretty well,” the nervous smile tugging at your lips uninvited.

The electrifying mixture of tension and excitement travelling down your veins. You would not wish to be anywhere else, and yet the nerves were there too. A little anxious voice you had to get rid of as soon as possible.

It seemed like Neil had the same idea.

“Not like this,” he smiled softly before leaning down again.

This time he started kissing down your stomach. Each brush of his lips resonating through your body, culminating deep within. Adding on to the pile of issues. All of them relating to the man so religiously caressing your skin. You wondered how much longer you could survive without having to ask him for more. For help. Focusing on the golden mane of hair, you distractedly tangled your fingers in his strands.

“Is that a promise?” barely reaching the end of the question, the breath getting trapped in your throat with a sharp inhale.

Neil stopped right where the band of your trousers met the exposed skin. He glanced up from underneath the long eyelashes. His eyes were dark, filled with a proposition of much more than this. If you were willing to wait.

“It might be…” a murmur and then a gentle kiss on the navel.

You sucked in the remains of oxygen. Oh god. His lips glided over your skin carefully, showing the potential. The knot tightened as you released a shameless moan. Your body felt as though it could go up in flames at any given moment. Neil had other plans, however. He raised his head and stole a quick kiss without giving you a moment to recover. Then he slid down the straps of your bra one by one and reached for the clasp:

“Is it alright if I…?” a tentative question as his fingers trailed over your back.

Insecurities were one thing, the fact that he was waiting until you gave him permission was another. Too generous.

“Yes. You don’t have to ask” breathless, bothered, yet unable to care anymore.

Your dismissal got met with a serious affirmation.

“I always will,” punctuating the sentence with the action he got rid of the garment.

It was different in Oslo. Back then, you were too caught up in the haze to care. Now you felt exposed, seen by the person that mattered most. Neil was openly admiring you with an enigmatic expression in his eyes. That caused a spike of anxiety as you unconsciously started to cover your torso with your arms. Only to be stopped with a firm grasp over your forearm. Shyly, you met his piercing gaze. Your heart was racing, pulse pounding in your ears. There was no going back from this. Not for you. Before your brain could kick into panic, Neil tilted your chin to make sure you saw the adoration in his eyes:

“You’re beautiful” voice full of conviction.

You wanted to believe him, pulling Neil in for another kiss, letting him envelop you in an embrace. The skin on skin. Closer. Almost there but not yet. You still needed more than this. But it had to wait. Getting lost in the kiss was too easy at this point, the only way of making you forget about everything else. Following instincts, you drew him even closer and then fell onto your back on the bed, pulling him with you. Neil broke the contact, breathing hard, pupils blown wide by surprise and want. He stared down at you, speechless.

That is until you grinned, encouraged by the rare advantage. Your bold touch over the front of his trousers was what kicked him back into action. A groan, flash of something dangerous, and a slight change of position so that he could continue the work from earlier. Hands and lips united in one simple purpose – to make you understand that there was no room for self-doubts. It did not take him long to leave you breathless. A mess of gasps and shudders as he covered every inch of your skin in kisses. Light bites only making everything worse twice fold. Helplessly, your fingers scratched his back, urging him to get closer. The pressure was rising steady and strong, every touch of his lips in all the right places reminding you of what you were trying to ignore. Only it was getting more difficult. Following mind of their own, your hands travelled down his sides, fingers hooking under the band of trousers, pulling them down by an inch. Neil raised his head, eyes dark, predatory gleam shining through. His gaze flitted over your face, taking in the flushed cheeks and heavy breaths. Then grinned, satisfied with what he has done to you. Teasing fingers trailing ghostly touches down your navel, never going where you wanted them. Infuriating. Huffing in irritation, you got back to the futile attempt of getting rid of his clothes. Only to be stopped with a smug smile and a hand grabbing yours:

“What is it?” the sparks told you that he knew exactly what was going on.

And yet… Bloody bastard. Before you could articulate the thought, he gave you even more reasons for hatred. His hand ventured between your thighs, rubbing the skin through the fabric, getting closer. That combined with the attention given to your breasts was enough to cause another shock to the system. Your thighs clenched on their own accord, embarrassment and irritation flashing from your eyes. Enough. You knew what to do. What was necessary. And he would have to obey.

“Just… take them off. Please,” the intended force got lost between gasps.

To indicate the meaning, you sharply drew his trousers down, exposing black briefs. Fuck. Shameful blush spreading over your cheeks as you let yourself stare with fascination. It was nothing new, but it felt like it was. You dared not meet Neil’s gaze; it was enough that you felt its weight settled on you without mercy. Unconsciously your curious hand brushed over his navel. The darker trail of hairs, the protruding pelvic bones and-

“Thanks for adding the please there” his chuckle threw you out of the zone as your eyes snapped up.

Way too confident. And satisfied with himself. You considered punching him in the teeth, but that could be anticlimactic. Instead, you did what you wanted as you tentatively skimmed your fingers over his crotch. Just as expected… Swallowing hard, you faced him with the newly found resilience.

“Didn’t want to sound rude,” a cocky tone added in to show you meant it.

The only indication that it worked was in the way he hesitated, a strangled groan escaping through the parted mouth. You repeated the touch, just so he understood.

“Only eager?” the strained voice adding further encouragement.

Suddenly it did not matter how needy you seemed. There was no need to hide it. Getting what you wanted was much more crucial. Not letting a second go wasted, you used your hold over his hips to pull him down.

“…Yes,” lips crashing into his with hunger you did not want to control.

Chaos. Everything all at once. Neil’s hands roaming over your body, tongue entangling with yours. The beginning of the end. Somehow, he managed to lower down your trousers, the movement urging you to break the kiss to finish off what he started. Kicking off the garment, you waited for Neil to do the same, watching the messy moves with a grin on your face. It was good. Hopeful even. As soon as he was done you extended a hand, pulling him back onto the mattress. Using the lack of irritating barriers, you embraced him tightly. Your bodies flush against each other, save for the underwear. That too had to go. Soon. Another turbulent kiss as your hands explored each other, searching for places to worship and study. Lying like this, side by side, tangled in each other, you understood why this was only a natural step. It made so much sense. You took your time, gliding all over his stomach and chest. Fingers tracing the scars. Lips trailing down his neck in reverence. He was a masterpiece, and he ought to be treated like one. Neil kept on kissing you, taking all that you were offering, slowly inching down your stomach with careful caress. Then, as he bit your lip, drawing out a moan, his hand palmed your underwear. Christ. One flash of surprise in those blue eyes told you what you knew already. It was bad. Soaked fabric clinging to your skin, increasing the frenzy. Answering the unasked question, you let him get rid of the panties; insecurities and uncertainty nowhere to be found. Slowly Neil shifted so that he had you pinned beneath him again. Hand brushing over the navel, jolts of electricity travelling down your veins at the simplest of touches. As his fingers dipped between the folds, you could only shudder, helplessly staring back into his eyes. There was no pretending.

“Christ, you’re so-” the raspy voice causing an additional wave of sensations.

Without finishing the sentence, he searched your face for something. His hand backtracked, traces of shame preventing you from looking at the mess you have made already. Forcing the brain to cooperate, you breathed out a question:

“Are you surprised?” you stared up at Neil with confidence you did not feel.

Whatever was bound to happen would probably kill you. That much was expected. The relentless throbbing between your legs only reminding you about the evident fact – you had it bad for Neil. And he knew that, eyes slowly roaming across your naked body, taking in everything new and about to be claimed. In the flesh this time. Finally.

“No,” Neil offered you a confident smirk, hand delving between your thighs once again without warning, “But this is still very… gratifying” lazily, his fingers parted the folds, collecting some of the wetness.

You huffed, attempting to force him to do more than that. To act. But to no avail. The satisfied look on his face was frustrating.

The fire in the pit of your stomach was building steadily, increasing with every passing second. You had to do something. To have him. Ideally. At the moment, it seemed like the matter of life and death. Everything else be damned.

“I’m glad I can amp up your ego,” managing to string together a coherent sentence, your hands settled on his hips, pulling him down again.

Your lips met in a sloppy kiss, your hazed brain barely able to keep up the rhythm. Using the distraction, you threw your leg over his hip, bringing your lower body flush with his. A clear signal.

But he, naturally, had other plans.

“Not yet. That has to wait a little” Neil pushed you back down, a visible frown etched between the furrowed eyebrows.

Oh for fuck’s sake. You let out a frustrated groan and leaned back to study his expression. You knew enough to know that he was more than ready. The front of his briefs told you as much. But torturous bastards always had to know better.

“Why? You-” your protest got stopped with a kiss you could not deny him.

Those never got boring. Each one bringing a new wave of need and desire. Your whole being focused on him and what you could receive. It never felt quite like this with anyone else.

Neil broke the contact, cupping your cheek tenderly:

“Yes, but first I want to take care of you,” terrifying depth of affection in his eyes doing nothing to extinguish the burning fire, “As you deserve. Like I promised in that one alley in Tallinn,” the telling smirk bringing back the memories with force.

Oh my god. The implication made you gasp loudly, widening his grin in the process. Of course you remembered that one promise. The specifics of what he wanted to do. The thought itself was enough to make you shiver, thighs clenching tightly. Before you could articulate how that proposition made you feel, he added:

“Don’t worry, the mess I’ll make out of you will only help me in this situation” a flash of the devil in the beautiful face and then a kiss laid with astonishing gentleness on your forehead.

Fuck. The shock must have painted on your face for Neil grinned, a tip of the tongue poking between the teeth like a bait. An enticement. As though you would need any of that. Without waiting for a further reaction, he started leaving kisses down your body.

“You’re...” he got as far as the sternum before you could choke out the word.

One of your hands tightened on the bedsheets, knowing well that what will happen will need holding on. A shiver ran down your spine when he reached that well-explored spot on the navel. Neil looked up, eyes dark and merciless:

“What?” a hand running up your thigh, prodding you to part your legs for him.

Like you had a choice. Forcing out a word seemed like a godly feat, and so you settled on the simplest of them:

“Insane,” spitting it out with intended strength, making sure he heard the frustration.

He did. The trademark smirk confirmed it. His hand travelled up your body in a purposeful caress. The learning did not take long; he already knew how to take you apart.

“I’ll show you what insanity feels like” the remark fell upon your fogged up conscience like a guillotine.

Any further words got trapped in your throat as he leaned down again, kissing down the navel, eyes searching yours for consent. A fervent nod had to do.

It was hard to prepare for. Your cheeks were burning as you watched the blonde head bowing between your thighs. For a second, the panicked voice wanted to remind you that this was a potentially life-ruining mistake. That you were letting Neil have it all. That it could end badly. The voice was silenced with a flash of lightning as you felt the offensive tongue part your lips in an exploratory move. Your fingers tightened on the material, the other hand instinctively grabbing onto Neil’s hair. He groaned upon the sensation, the vibrations making you buck your hips into his face. As though he was expecting that, he slung his arm over your thighs, keeping them in place. Keeping you helplessly spread out for the act. He began slowly, giving you all the time to get used to the thrill. It took less than a minute for you to start writhing under his strong hold, pathetic moans piercing the silence. As expected, Neil knew what to do. How to destroy you with the use of his mouth alone. His lips slowly enveloped your heat, free hand finding yours and lacing the fingers together. A grateful sigh escaped your throat, thumb brushing against his knuckles in appreciation. It only got worse then. The coil tightened. A peril of sweat appearing on your brow as the heat kept rising. Just when you thought you could hold on a little longer, Neil switched the technique, delving the tip of the tongue in. Christ. You yanked on the golden strands, showing how well that was working. He chuckled, the low sound making everything even worse. He kept on confidently penetrating the most sacred of places. Mindless of your forceful tugs on his hair or the cries you could not hold in.

Soon it became a losing game. You could only interweave curses in between moans and gasps. You were sure you were close to crushing his hand with the strength of your grasp, tightening upon every single move he made. There was no mercy here. Just the most primal of needs taking over everything else. As Neil directed all of his attention onto being the sole reason for your downfall, one persistent thought appeared in your hazed brain. You wanted him. To feel him everywhere. To chase that high and then claim it with him. His tongue expertly flicked against your clit. A whimper. Hips rocking forward on their own accord. More. All of the words getting stuck in your throat as he started lapping at your heat, taking everything you could offer. Like you were his object of unconditional adoration. As though giving you the pleasure was everything he wanted. A tiny voice in your brain reminded you again of the burning need. You were sure to lose sanity if this continued. Absolution needed and necessary. But not like this. It had to be with him. Feeling the end approach with the speed of light, you brushed your thumb over his knuckles and used the hold over his hair to bring needed attention.

“Neil… don’t…” the ability to speak was long gone, heavy breaths interrupting the intended sentence.

He raised his head, the glistening lips catching your attention with an additional spark of electricity within the veins. Oh god. He licked them unconsciously you shuddered, unable to look away. Fascination almost as good as what he was doing. Almost.

“Why? You haven’t-” his eyebrows furrowed as though completely lost on you.

You wanted to show him. To make him understand. But it was increasingly hard to do with the fire consuming your body and unresolved frustration nipping at the core. Insanity like no other. Speechless, incoherent, you forced the words out:

“Not without you” surely he could not miss the longing in your eyes.

You could point out the exact moment your word sank in. Neil’s pupils widened; lips parted a little letting out a sharp gasp. The blue eyes showing you boundless infatuation and astonishment as though your desires were unexpected. Swallowing hard, he found the voice:

“… Jesus, you-” a gulp, unable to finish the sentence and then a flash of something strange “Are you sure? Because we don’t have to. I can-” oh no.

Not this time.

“Neil” cutting in sharply, you made sure to show him the extent of urgency through the look in your eyes, “Please, I need you” as simple as that; the regrets would come later “I can’t- Don’t deny me that” you raised his chin, thumb brushing over the lips.

Collecting the remains of your fall from grace. Nothing else mattered. Neil looked as though what you said has crushed his heart. He moved back up to face you, careful hands leaving caresses along the way with breath-taking precision. As his eyes met yours, he breathed out the confession:

“I love-” not yet.

You took the words off his mouth with a kiss, tasting yourself in the process. It had to wait. This moment had to be about getting lost, about letting go of everything that was weighing you down. Words like those could only bring harm. Letting go, you whispered the explanation:

“Tell me after,” a resolve to break down his doubts.

It worked if that half-smile was anything to go by. He seemed to consider something quickly before shifting to a kneeling position above you. Following the simplest of needs, your hand darted forward, courageous fingers tracing down his stomach. Stopping at the familiar scar, you mused:

“You never told me why you did that” there was no need to clarify the meaning his eyes met yours with clear understanding.

And something else. A faint laugh as if Neil was amused you have not caught up with the obvious just yet. And then a glimmer of joy, looking down upon you with fondness:

“You’ll know… after,” he grinned, using your moment of confusion to take off the final piece of clothing.

It took your brain an additional second to catch up with everything. After… could that mean- And then, distracted by the thoughts too good to be true, your eyes landed on him again. Only to be shocked by the picture. Your reckless quip from a few days previously coming back to haunt you with vengeance. Compensating for something… yeah, no. A nervous chuckle built up in your throat as you bit down on your lip, unable to tear your eyes away. Not that you expected anything different. Someone this beautiful was ought to be also… lucky. Slowly shaking off the paralysis, you met Neil’s eyes. He was observing you with something akin to uncertainty. As though he had a reason to doubt himself. You took his hand in yours, murmuring:

“Come here,” a faint pull to give him back the confidence.

A flash of a grateful smile as he tumbled back into your arms. Carefully, you wrapped him in a tight hug, your racing hearts beating in the same tempo. Finally getting what you have been craving for so long felt strange. Almost unreal. But it was real, and so you let yourself breathe him in, hands caressing the skin slowly, with purpose. After a moment of quiet tenderness, you leaned back, cupping his cheek, you gazed into his eyes. Nothing to hide, only all of the feelings that you did not dare put into words just yet. Hope, love, faith. With the courage kindling within your heart, you allowed yourself to explore all that he revealed. The simplest of touches darkening his pupils, the hold over your waist tightening. A sigh here, tremble there. Enough to make you braver, kissing down his throat, fingers continuing their dance. Giving him back all of the pleasure and attention. Even if it was only a quarter of what he deserved.

Suddenly Neil tipped your chin, forcing an end to your ministrations, a hint of something strange in his eyes. That same uncertainty. Hesitation. Your chest tightened; heart unable to process the meaning without risking another crack. Finding words, you asked:

“Are you nervous?” gently, you ran your hands over his chest.

Feeling the steady beat beneath the fingertips, the warmth of his body giving security and protection from whatever could harm you. Home. The gratefulness in his eyes increasing the feelings.

“A little…” a hint of an insecure smile, “This is you and-”

Oh. A tiny pinprick of pain resonating through your heart. It never occurred to you that he could be anxious. Because of you, at that. But there was no need to be, no expectations to match up against. All you needed was for Neil to be there, to lose the inhibitions and just let it go.

“It’s only me” interjecting, you added the necessary emphasis “Nothing to worry about” a reassuring squeeze of hand as you made sure to show him the conviction in your eyes “I’ve got you” ending on a whisper, you offered him a small smile.

Before you could process anything, Neil kissed you hungrily, pouring all of the words into the act. It was gratitude and acceptance. As if what you said was exactly what he needed. Only once there was no breath left, he broke the contact, pressing his forehead against yours. Eyes boring into yours with unspoken confessions. And then, as though a switch has flipped, he allowed his hands to resume the familiar moves. Slowly building back up the tension, showing you that there were no more doubts. That was the needed cue to give you back the boldness, studying Neil with the necessary detail. You never knew it was possible to get so lost in something as straightforward as touch, the feeling of naked skin, the look in each other’s eyes. Maybe that’s what love should be.

As though sensing your changing mood, Neil searched your face before following the gentle pull of your hand towards where you needed him most. Just to show how bad it was. How urgent it felt. The flash of understanding in his eyes told you he knew what to do. A sigh escaped your lips as he carefully parted your folds with the fingers. The slow movement, teasing and preparing for what was to come. Letting go felt easy, effortless even. Listening to the most basic instincts, you used the hand that was not tangled in his hair to keep Neil wanting more. To remind him about his desires. Hiss in an answer was gratifying, making your lips twist in a smirk. It was good to know you held power too. Before you could become even more daring, Neil met your eyes with dangerous sparks in his gaze. It could only get worse. And you were right. Retracting his hand from between your thighs, he raised his fingers to his lips and licked them clean. Never breaking the eye contact; a rogue smile making everything worse. Fuck. A violent jolt shook your core at the sight. Bastard. A strangled groan escaped through your lips, frustration rising at the self-satisfied face expression.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you rasped out, showing him the extent of annoyance through the look in your eyes.

A contradicting hand tracing invisible confession onto his back. The words would come soon enough there was no doubt about it.

“Don’t be so dramatic” Neil flashed you the happiest of grins.

Of course. With a ridiculous laugh bubbling in your throat, you stared back at the blonde man, overwhelmed with every emotion on the spectrum. Too much and yet not enough. Now.

“You’re an idiot” tipping his chin you captured his lips in a short kiss.

The relief and devotion in the blue eyes were palpable.

“Yours though,” he cupped your cheek, a soft smile lightening up his face.

With the three words on the tip of your tongue, you whispered the command:

“Show me” the resolution in your eyes aiming to tell him all that you could not express.

Neil nodded, placing a final kiss on your forehead, and shifted to hover above you. The nervous flutters in the pit of your stomach slowly getting consumed by something else. Need, conviction. It was simple. Never breaking the eye contact, your hands ran up his back to tangle the fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll be gentle” a whisper passed from his lips to yours coupled with a kiss.

Finally. A flood of feelings threatening to overspill at any given moment. There was only one answer.

“I know,” the affirmation swallowed by a sigh as Neil covered your body with his.

Easy. Then it was almost natural. A gasp from your mouth mixing with his sharp inhale. Lips brushing but not quite kissing. Your fingers digging into his shoulders, bruising the skin. It felt right somehow. Good. Neil slowly inched in, giving you time to adjust. One of his hands tenderly cradled your head, thumb caressing the flushed cheek. His eyes locked on yours without a second of exemption. Assurance and affection.

Once you could feel him inside you completely, a nod was all he needed. Slow thrusts, building up a rhythm. Kisses interrupting the shuddered breaths. Your hand found Neil’s again, interlacing the fingers and pinning your joined palms to the bed. The feeling of his pulse alongside yours was like a revelation. The closeness you have craved for so long was finally within your reach. He was yours. With the fire steadily building up, you bucked your hips to meet him halfway. An answering moan was good encouragement to do it again. And again, matching his pace. And then speeding up. No words were found for any of this. Instead, you kept on gazing into his eyes, letting your breaths match and mingle in the space between. The unguarded look telling him all he needed to know. The feeling in your chest letting you know that there is no coming back from this.

It was the sudden wish to get even closer that prompted you to change the angle. Hoisting your leg over his hip, and then the other. Crossing them over his back, bringing your pelvis flush against his. A telling guttural groan and the darkening pupils told you it was the right move. The chaos that followed was expected. With the different position, it did not take Neil long to find the spot that made you cry out in pleasure. Your fingers scratched his back, nails tearing at the skin, claiming him in the darkened room. He kissed you roughly, lips bruising yours without traces of moderation. That was no longer necessary. You knew it would not take long. The string tightening and straining. The fire within your veins raging and consuming. Soon.

As Neil upped the tempo, your laced fingers untangled to resume the abandoned caress. Your fingers were trailing over his back with increased urgency. Mindless of the bruises and scratches, you wanted to mark him for good. Your heart was close to bursting with the amount of love, the excess pouring out with every sigh and kiss. You peppered kisses all over his neck and shoulder, using the newly found closeness to adore him in new ways. It felt perfect, pleasure swallowing every thought and idea. Till it was just Neil, his hands cradling your body, his warmth keeping you safe. Simple, primal even. As you responded to his forceful thrust with a circular movement, he met your gaze again. Eyes dark, the blue hazed with lust and adoration. Lips parted to let out quiet moans and gasps. The unspoken confessions passed through your locked gazes. Waiting felt worth it. Even if for moments like this when you knew that giving yourself away was the only logical solution. You were his no matter what, this act only signing off the fact.

It was a long kiss that he gave you then that tipped the scales. The heat became unbearable, so many words getting stuck in your throat. Urgency causing you to lose the rhythm, fingers digging into his biceps for support. Your muscles clenching around him on their own accord. The edges of your vision darkened, helplessly meeting his questioning gaze.

“Neil…” a half sigh, just enough to let him know.

A whimper interrupted whatever else you could want to tell him as he reached down between your bodies. The additional pressure placed on your clit to make sure you could get what you needed. The gratefulness passed on a louder moan, fingers tangling in his hair, bringing him closer. Close enough to whisper in his ear:

“You’re mine,” just like that.

That was all you were capable of afore the world exploded before your eyes.

“Only yours,” the affirmation falling on your ears like liberation.

Nothing else was needed. Your muscles tightened, clinging to Neil as though that was everything you were able to do. A sharp cry breaking the silence. Absolution. Everything leading up to this, the moment itself worth every second pain. The ultimate sacrifice in the name of love. You could see it in his eyes, drinking in your downfall with undivided attention. Strained breaths and chaotic movement telling you he was not far behind. Using the last sparks of the high he brought you to, you captured his lips in a slow kiss.

That was the needed push for Neil. He moaned your name, forehead pressing to yours as his eyes screwed shut. His body stiffened and then relaxed with a groan, holding you close. Recovering from the experience, you embraced him tightly, offering any comfort you could think of as he trembled, riding out the high within your arms. The vulnerability of the moment striking you with an unexpected wave of feelings. There was nothing beyond this for people who were not even together. A little voice in your head suggested that perhaps now you were. That maybe this was it. Before you could pay it more attention, Neil raised his head, eyes meeting yours with a haze still darkening the pupils. There was something new in his expression. Relief, certainty, as if nothing could sway him anymore. As if his creed came true, and he did not need any proof. You cupped his cheek, drawn in by the sight he presented. Blush tinting the cheekbones, golden hair falling into his eyes. Gaze focused only on you. And…

“I love you,” the words interrupting the silence with their clarity.

Your pulse picked up, heart hammering in your chest as though triggered by the confession. Speechless, you stared at Neil, trying to find an answer. But the small smile upon his lips told you he was not looking for a response. It was only a formality, just as you asked. To be told after. Now. It could not be… but it was. It was real, he was real, his heart belonging to you just like yours was his.

With the facts slowly sinking in, you pulled him down into another long kiss. As a way of saying all that you could not just yet. As an acceptance. Lips moving in sync, unrestrained, and entirely open to one another. As Neil broke away, breath ghosting your mouth, nose brushing against yours, you stared right back, unable to stop the worry from voicing its problems:

“I can’t-” say it.

Because you could not. Not with the heart bruised and shattered. Not with the fire still burning in your veins. If it was the right one at last, then it had to be proper. As though sensing your growing unease, Neil interrupted you, soft sparks in his eyes:

“It’s okay,” gently brushing his thumb along your reddened cheek, “There’s time,” finishing off with a kiss on the forehead.

Without waiting for you to find the needed words, he slid off your body, settling on the side with a quiet, contented sigh. You glanced at him curiously, desperate for a distraction from the sudden onslaught of feelings and thoughts. What if you’ve fucked it? What if he wanted you to leave? What if-

The monologue of qualms got cut short with an arm encircling your waist and pulling you closer to him again. The intense gaze searching your face before he tightened the hold and pressed a quick kiss to your temple. The tenderness could be lethal. With your heart racing, tongue threatening to spill everything it has been forced to hold back for months, you fought for clarity. Anything. And then… maybe this was okay. Maybe this was it. Sparks of hope triggering the playfulness you have dearly missed:

“Am I not allowed to leave?” eyeing him with an arched eyebrow, fingers idly tracing symbols onto his chest.

The warmth and the steady heartbeat everything you could need to anchor in the moment. The mirth in his eyes telling you that too was requited.

“I’d rather you didn’t…” he trailed off, the flash of something darker in his gaze making you breathless “I… I might have some plans for later,” he added, one of the hands stroking your thigh deliberately.

Right… You could only blame that sudden wave of excitement on his charm. And the look in his eyes, suggesting that this was not the end. That he wanted more. The idea alone made you shudder.

“Christ… Neil, you-” ignoring the satisfied smirk, you stared at him in feigned exasperation.

His grin widened, fingers teasingly running up and down your stomach causing the butterflies to awaken. Not that they had a longer break…

“Yes, my love?” picking up your open-ended frustration, Neil traced the outline of your lips, bruised and swollen from the multitude of kisses.

My love. The endearment on its own was enough to shut up the potential doubts. Unable to stop the grin from spreading on your face, you buried your face in his chest.

“… I see how it is,” your murmur triggering a low chuckle as he pulled you even closer.

You took it slow then. More breathless kisses, hands tangling in hair, sighs, and silent confessions taking up the non-existent space between your bodies. Once kisses and touches stopped being enough for either of you, Neil gave you the control with desire burning bright in his eyes. You claimed him again, making sure he could not forget it even if he ever wanted to. What you received in return assured you that your heart would never let go. It could not. Falling asleep after everything was almost too easy. For once, no fears creeping in the darkness. No regrets gnawing at your heart. Only the steady pulse, a hand holding onto yours, fingers gently caressing your skin. A promise of home.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

Text

Flower | 34

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Smut, fluff

; Warnings: Anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, protected sex

; Word Count: 4.1k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: The final smut chapter of Flower! It’s not too long, and probably not as hot as you’d anticipate but I hope you all enjoy it anyway lol please reblog if you do and let me know what you think :D I mean...I know it’s smut so it’s going to be hard to actually talk about it but still, I like to hear what you think about Flower. I haven’t proof read cos I only finished this about...fifteen minutes ago lol

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahh, Hoseok.” You whispered eyes tightly closed as a particularly hard thrust from him has your body jerking up the bed slightly more. Tightening around him without even realising it, he responds with a quiet moan of his own and you smile, running your hand along his back to play with the short hair on his neck.

It makes him shudder, his whole body quivering above you and goosebumps rise on his arms. He was surprisingly ticklish, so it came as no surprise that even in the middle of sex he ended up giggling from the sensation. Opening your eyes to watch him, you bit your lip in amusement at the sight of his beautiful smile.

His response to that was just a roll of his hips that had you gasping, pleasure shooting through your body. Almost two-and-a-half years together and sex still wasn’t boring or dull with him. You weren’t sure if it was because you were madly in love with him or if it was just because he was good at sex. All you did know was that you enjoyed it a lot.

“Do we have to do it? Can’t we just keep going with this?” The question makes Hoseok pause in his movements, shifting until he could look at you clearly without causing himself any strain. Brow furrowing, his lips twist in confusion and you have to bite back the urge to poke at them.

“I mean...we don’t have to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it then we won’t do it. Just finish off like this. I will point out that this is your fantasy though.” A sigh leaves you at that, causing you to nod before you rub at your face. Hoseok doesn’t move, just staying where he is and watching you.

“I know, I know. You’re right. And we’ve already prepped. I just...what if something goes wrong? Or it hurts? You’re not small and...you know.” Your voice has a whine to it, causing him to smile. Or try to hide his smile, but it doesn’t work.

Tracing your fingers along his the tattoos on his chest, you waited for him to comfort you. You’d never really thought of yourself as a needy person before, but you found it nice to have Hoseok reassuring you. It wasn’t necessary, but you got the feeling that Hoseok liked to do it as well. Probably liked the feeling of being wanted.

His response is to push himself up with a grunt, the muscles of his torso working in a way that had you clenching around him. Until he slipped out of you, his cock glistening with your wetness and the lube he’d used earlier. Thanks to his vasectomy a few months ago, the two of you had decided to forego the use of condoms during sex now.

There was a pack in the drawers just in case it was needed, like the situation that was soon about to begin, but otherwise, you both thought it was just a waste of money. You’d gotten tested and Hoseok officially had no sperm showing in his semen, so he couldn’t get you pregnant.

It also helped that him orgasming in you had been one of your fantasies that you’d wanted to experience. You hadn’t been disappointed, even if it felt slightly gross from how wet and thick his cum was in comparison to...well anything else that had been there. Still, you’d enjoyed it. And the look in Hoseok’s eyes when he’d seen it the first time had been pleasing.

There weren’t many things that you’d been able to be the first of for Hoseok.

You still weren’t entirely used to seeing his cock bare though, and it was oddly arousing. Was that normal? Or was it just because you were mid-sex and you found everything about him ridiculously attractive right now? The way his skin contrasted against his colourful tattoos and how each heavy breath made the definition of his stomach more obvious.

It was only when Hoseok gently trailed his fingers along your inner thigh, tapping occasionally with a bemused grin on his face that you realise you’d become way too invested in checking him out. Not that he was opposed to it if the twitching of his cock had anything to say about it.

“Oh, hey, there she is. Back with me. You had that lusty look in your eyes,” Smirking, he rests a hand on your knee and rubs at it almost reassuringly. “Right, serious talk. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable or happy with. So if you’re still too worried then we don’t do it. I’m perfectly fine no matter what.”

Body heating in embarrassment, you squirmed a little and looked away from his intense gaze. His lips were a little swollen and flushed in colour from the earlier kissing and gentle biting, made even more enticing when his tongue swipes across them.

“No, no, I want to try. You’re right, it’s my fantasy. I’m just...worried. You know me.”

“I do know you, which is why I know that you’re probably thinking about this too much. I know that you’ve researched extensively on how to do it safely, on how to try and do it cleanly as well. We’ve prepped as well as we can, you’re pretty comfortable with where we’ve got to. If you’re unhappy then just tell me, okay? Trust me, I’ll stop.” Staring into his dark eyes, you felt his care so strongly.

It helped to soothe the worry in your soul, to let you know that you were in capable hands. You did trust him. More than anyone else in the world right now. The very fact he was knelt there, with your naked body on full display for him and there were almost no worries about your appearance going through your head was proof enough.

There were other worries this time though.

“But what if there’s...you know. Like when you’re in there. What if you get...stuff on you?” Hoseok sighs softly, it’s almost not audible but you heard it. The knot in your stomach was still tight, but you don’t feel embarrassed.

“Meeps, I’m going to be in your asshole. I mean...it’s not made for a dick, it’s a poop chute. So if I happen to get some on my dick then I do, I can’t complain about it. It’s what I get for going in there. Please don’t stress over it.” He’s stroking along your thigh, each movement reinforcing that he cares for you and only has you in mind.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable at any point, please. Go straight to red if you’re hurting. I’d rather stop if it’s hurting a lot, especially as it’s your ass. Probably not a good sign.” Frowning slightly, you reach out for his hand and half link your fingers together.

“You won’t stop completely right? If I say red then we can just do normal sex?” The last, and only time, you’d ever called out red to him had been during your last experimentation with fantasies and kinks. You’d wanted to know whether you’d enjoy being tied and blindfolded during sex and Hoseok had obliged.

Only you’d discovered that having your hands tied to the bedframe so you couldn’t move properly combined with being unable to see had triggered a huge panic attack. All you’d been able to focus on was that you were exposed, with all the parts you didn’t like being visible and you couldn’t see a thing. Even though Hoseok had been right there, you hadn’t been able to push past your fear that he might just leave you in that compromising position and you’d been begging him to let you go, spitting out ‘red’ over and over until you were free.

Hoseok hadn’t re-engaged in sex after that time, instead just focusing on coddling you and making sure that you were okay. Your vehement reaction had convinced you both that while you were okay with being either tied or blindfolded, you couldn’t cope with them both.

It made you feel too vulnerable, even with Hoseok.

But you didn’t want him to stop completely this time. If you were uncomfortable or hurting from the anal then you just wanted him to stop and have normal sex with you. There was no reason in your eyes for the fun to stop just because something had been a bust. Not this time.

“If you’re okay with continuing, then yeah. We’ll just do it normally. But only if you’re comfortable with it, alright? You have to be honest.” His index finger on his free hand is gesturing to you, his expression stern and you can’t help but smile as you nod. It was hard to take him entirely seriously when he was naked as the day he was born.

“I promise. We should do it. Now, while I’m feeling a little confident. Do we need to do anything else?” He’d already spent a good half an hour earlier getting your ass ready for him; using a small range of butt plugs that increased in size to try and make it as easy as possible for you. You figured with the size of the last one he’d used on you that you could probably take him. He wasn’t small but he also wasn’t a porn star either, thankfully.

“You sure? I think you’ll be good, just let me know.” Nodding to him, you watch as he grabs the foil packet from the bedside table and carefully rolls the condom on. Neither of you wanted this particular sex act to be bare and you’d forgotten how weirdly attractive it was to watch him put one on.

Next, the bottle of lube was used to squirt generous amounts onto his cock. One large hand, the fingers long and elegant, coats it evenly along his shaft in firm strokes. You knew that you were incredibly horny right now because just the sight of it had you shivering, a quiet moan leaving you without meaning to.

“It’s really hot when you jerk yourself off.” It’s only when Hoseok laughs that you realise you’ve just said that out loud. But it’s a testament to how much you’ve grown into your personality with Hoseok that you don’t feel embarrassed about it. Instead, you just give him a bold look with raised brows that has him grinning, looking away from you first.

“You’ve mentioned that a few times.” He’s muttering it though, his cheeks flushed with rose from shyness now and not from anything sexual. It pleases you though that he doesn’t stop his movement, instead gripping himself a little firmer and almost showing off with each slow stroke.

Biting your lip, you sighed to yourself as you watched him for a few seconds. Each move of his arm had the muscles in his bicep flexing, the weights he’d been lifting at the gym lately making themselves well known beneath the colourful tattoos. Your boyfriend was a masterpiece of nature who had only been improved with human talent and skill.

The knowledge that it was all yours was more than a little heady, and suddenly your worries dissipated a little as you whined at him.

“Hobi...come on, please.”

Now it’s his turn to chew on his lip, considering you carefully before shuffling himself a little forward. His thigh muscles tighten from the movement and his position, looking thicker than normal and you whine softly. Would you ever get to a point where you didn’t consider this man to be the most attractive person in the world?

The tip of his cock rubs against your clit slowly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Sighing, you lift your hips in an attempt to encourage him downwards. It surprises you how much you want him there, despite your earlier worries. But you hadn’t hated the prep earlier, hadn’t loved it either but this was something you;’d always wanted to try.

And something you’d always been way too embarrassed to ask for. Hence why it had taken you almost two and a half years to finally experiment with this with Hoseok. You trusted him though. Trusted him to take his time and most importantly, to take care of you and love you.

“If it hurts-”

“Yes, yes, if it hurts then I’ll let you know. Just...go slow, yeah?” Nodding at you, he finally moves down until he’s pressing against your asshole. There’s resistance to him as he pushes, an uncomfortable sensation that has you wincing slightly. The toys you both had didn’t quite go up to his size, so there was still a tiny bit more stretching to do, but you’d felt that you could cope with it pretty well.

Still, it’s not the most pleasant feeling and you let out a breath of air in a rush, eyes widening as you feel a burning sensation when he finally manages to start entering you. A deep groan escapes you as he keeps going, the blunt head of his cock the biggest part of him at the moment and you know that once that’s in, it should be a little better.

It’s just getting there.

Hoseok uses his free hand to rub your stomach gently, the movement something that would’ve horrified you years ago but that is reassuring now. Like you can feel comfort from the touch rather than revulsion and horror.

“Hey, hey, you okay?”

Nodding to him, you take a deep breath to try and regulate yourself. It’s more discomfort than pain right now, thankfully, but you just try to relax. You’d read plenty of sites that said relaxing would help to make it a smoother experience, and the last thing you wanted was to cause yourself unnecessary pain.

“Yeah, yeah. Just...go slow, ya know? It’s a little burning but I think you can push a bit more. Just...slow.” He acknowledges your words with a smile, moving to grasp your hand with his while he moves a little deeper. There’s an almost painful sensation that has you whimpering out loud but then the tip of him suddenly manages to make it past and an inch or so of him accidentally slips in too.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.” He blurts out, looking a little panicked as you squeeze his hand tight without even realising. Thankfully, he’s paused and you take a few deep breaths, trying to centre yourself as you let them back out slowly. After a solid minute or so, you finally feel yourself relax once more and smile at him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s good, you’re in. Just...give me another minute or so, I’ll let you know when you can move again. Slow, still slow.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Did I hurt you?” You know he’s not going to let go of this anytime soon, so you squeeze his hand softly.

“A little, but we both knew it wasn’t going to be sunshine, right? Like you said...it’s not meant to take a dick.” He snorts at that, the movement causing him to jerk ever so slightly inside you. There's another burn but it’s more manageable now, the sensation not painful anymore and you give him another smile of encouragement.

“Okay, try a bit more.” This continues for probably ten minutes, Hoseok going as slow as humanly possible. To the point that you’re worried his erection might be becoming painful from how long he’s had it. But the two of you work together, slowly moving until you finally feel comfortable enough to start having some form of sex.

Though not the kind you normally have, you doubt you could handle him going fast right now. But there was something strangely erotic about having him somewhere that was still considered a little taboo. And you liked the feeling of him there. It wasn’t pleasurable obviously, but you were enjoying it more than you’d thought that you would.

Reaching down between you both, your fingertips found your clit with relative ease and you let out a small gasp as pleasure burst inside you. The sensation made your hips jerk upwards, causing his cock to slide out a little and your gasp turned into a moan quickly.

Wow, okay. That wasn’t expected. Brows rising, you glance down before looking at Hoseok in surprise.

“That felt good. Like...better than I expected.” Now Hoseok looks intrigued, glancing down to where his cock was buried inside your ass to your fingers which are lazily rubbing at your clit. Pursing his lips, he looks at you with an intrigued expression with more than a hint of mischief before pushing his hips forward slowly.

Inch by inch, his cock slides back into you, the lube he’d added making his movement smooth. The intense way he stares into your eyes has you inhaling sharply, his movements achingly slow but just enough to make you shudder and keen.

“Oh...oh, you like that,” Hoseok murmurs, lips quirked into a smirk as he watches you play with yourself in fascination. “Meeps...do you like getting it in the ass?”

He’s teasing you, the light tone to his voice telling you so, but you just nod your head. Closing your eyes, you keep up the same rhythm on the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs, occasionally pausing to add more of your sticky excitement to make it smoother. Hoseok is right, and it kind of surprises you.

You like getting anal. Even though you’d been the one to want to try it with him, with it being your fantasy, you hadn’t expected anything from it. Maybe just an okay experience that you’d do again occasionally with him if he wanted it, but you genuinely liked this.

The actual act itself didn’t feel as good as vaginal obviously, but there was something that was causing you to get a different kind of pleasure. Almost like the very knowledge that you were having it was making it feel so much better than you’d anticipated.

Which is why you’re beyond surprised when the build-up of pleasure seems to be slow at first but then it bubbles over quickly, a pressure you hadn’t even realised was there bursting and ricocheting through your body violently. Moaning loudly, each sound almost guttural from how intense the orgasm was.

It’s bizarrely helped by the sensation of Hoseok moving in you, his strokes still slow and steady. Even though you know logically that you’re not getting any pleasure from there, if anything there’s still that uncomfortable sensation, it almost seems to intensify the sparks inside you.

To the point that your body almost rises off the bed, back bowing violently while your thighs tighten around Hoseok’s waist and your toes curl. You can’t ever remember an orgasm this intense, which is odd as you get the best ones when you have some vaginal penetration as well. But this seems to get you going.

By the time it finally finishes, it seems to go on far longer than normal, you’re left exhausted on the bed. Limbs twitching while your chest heaves for breath, you don’t see the dumbstruck way Hoseok stares at you.

“Did you just...after...I mean...I barely did anything!” He finally exclaims, causing you to open your eyes and watch him lazily. “You really just came after like...a few minutes of me in your ass and a bit of clit action! I can be in your pussy for half an hour and nothing happens!”

You can tell he’s not angry or annoyed, instead more amazed. It makes you giggle at him, the endorphins rushing through your body after a good orgasm making you feel even more loving towards him. Reaching forwards, you tug him down until he’s almost laid on top of you, his cock shifting inside you as he moves but not slipping out.

“Oh...oh, someone’s being loving too. Damn meeps, you like getting it in the ass, huh?” Humming, you ran your fingers through his hair repeatedly and pressed kisses to his shoulder. A graze of your teeth on the soft skin there has him shivering, hips jutting forward automatically and you sigh in contentment as he moans.

“Your turn,” Whispering into his ear, you trail your nose along his cheek before kissing the strong line of his jaw. “Probably not going to enjoy this as much but I want you to feel good.”

Hoseok nods slightly, a strangled gasp leaving him when you experimentally squeeze around him. It’s not comfortable to have him thrusting when you do that so you relax again, encouraging him to start a very slow and steady rhythm. Not nearly as fast as you both would normally enjoy, but it’s as much as you can handle without it getting painful or too uncomfortable.

So you try and help in other ways, dragging your nails down his back and playing with the small hairs on the back of his neck. Tiny nibbles of his jaw before pulling him into a deep kiss, shifting slightly to make the position a little better for you.

It works, mainly because you know all the little spots that do it for Hoseok. Which is why it’s only minutes after that he’s pressing into you, his face pushed into your neck hard as he lets a loud grunt while his body quakes above you. Smiling, you kiss his shoulder and contemplate for a moment how different it feels to have him orgasming there instead of in your pussy.

You can still feel his cock jerk inside you with each spasm, ejaculating into the condom. It’s not like normal though, like the sensations are almost dulled. But it’s still hot as hell and you feel a little pride, grinning as you kiss along his jaw and murmur softly to him.

It’s probably silly, but you always feel an intense amount of pride every time Hoseok cums in you. Almost like you’re proud of the fact he found you so attractive that you could satisfy him sexually. Although he probably didn’t need that much to get going, it was still a boost to your confidence.

Finally, he shifts until he can look at you properly. There’s exhaustion written all over his face but it’s bad, instead, it’s that exhaustion from a good time. He has that lazy look in his eyes, that one he always gets after a good orgasm.

“Good?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. I mean, I don’t wanna do this every day but...I want to do it again. Did it feel different?” He snorts, letting his weight rest on you for a moment. It’s heavy and a little stifling from the heat but you relish it, wrapping your arms around him. If it was weird to be so affectionate after anal sex then so be it, he’d given you a damn good orgasm so he deserved it.

“I mean...I liked it. Felt tighter but only really at your actual ass, after that, it’s kinda weird. I prefer your pussy, for definite. But I’m down for this more, especially after how hard you came. Damn, who’d have thought my shy, awkward girlfriend would be so into that?” He pokes your side gently, causing you to smile.

“Surprising to me too. Anyway, come on, let’s go clean up. I don’t even wanna know what it looks like so...I’m gonna close my eyes and you can go get rid of the condom. Then we’ll shower, get all nice and clean.” Hoseok hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Okay, sounds good. Love you.” Smiling as you close your eyes, you gently poke his shoulder in response. A soft chuff of laughter lets you know he understands before he’s pulling out carefully, a wince on your face until he’s out.

“Do you need anything? Need me to go anything?”

“No, it’s okay. Just...go, start the shower. I’ll be there soon. I enjoyed it.” He acknowledges you quietly before getting up off the bed. There’s the sound of him peeling off the condom carefully before he puts it back into the foil but you don’t bother to move. Instead, you lay there for a moment with that boneless contentment that comes from a good orgasm and some good sex. It constantly amazed you that you’d come this far in yourself, feeling confident enough to open up about the fantasies you wanted to do.

Sighing happily, you can’t help but snort as you hear Hoseok yelp from the bathroom.

“Kasumi! No! My dick is not a toy, ow!”

357 notes · View notes

raibebe · 4 years ago

Text

Soft core

Genre: Fluff(?) Words: 11,4 k holy shit this is insane Prompt: Jaehyun in his vampire bdsm outfit he wore in the Punch era but make it sfw Warnings: mentions of blood, brief mentions of member x member relationships, brief descriptions of a panic attack

A/N: This was written for Aimee who loves Jaehyun with her whole heart, happy birthday Aimee 💖 I hope you had an amazing day and like this little something. I know you deactivated but I already started writing this a month ago and I’ll post it anyways in the hope you’ll see this someday and a couple of others will enjoy this as well. I have mixed and matched their outfits and tattoos from both the concept photos and the live stages. Also I’m sorry Johnny, but you fit the role of the shameless flirt so well… Bonus points for anyone who spots all cameos. Special thanks to @burtonized who made me keep going with this and listened to all my complaints.

To say you were nervous before starting your first shift at your new job in a reasonably shady bar not too far from your apartment was an understatement. You seriously questioned your own sanity and why you had even applied for the job when you had seen the offer on the beat up wooden entrance door next to an old motorcycle license plate and a bright green neon sign that illuminated the word ‘open’ a couple of days ago. The blue haired man behind the bar had given you a questioning look after you had entered the bar because you couldn’t have looked any more out of place with your soft sweater between the old wooden interior and the leather the barman and a handful of customers were wearing. It had cost all of your courage and a reminder that you needed to find a job for the weekends to walk up to the bar to ask the barman about the job offer. He had asked you a couple of questions like whether you had already waited tables before, which you had (at a place that was lit far better than this one but how different would it be?). The man who had introduced himself as Kun and honestly seemed like a big softie on the inside despite his serious look (it had to be the intense eyebrows) had agreed to hire you on the spot because he had the offer up for a while and no one had come in to ask about it and he couldn’t keep bullying his apparently very chaotic roommates to keep covering the shifts on the busy weekends anymore.

That’s how you found yourself here, a couple of days later on a Friday night, staring at the wooden door yet again (now missing the job offer and not yet illuminated by the neon sign).You took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bar, this time not looking as out of place as you had before, wearing black skinny jeans and a simple grey v-neck. Kun looked up from where he was wiping down the counter, shooting you a smile. Today he had styled his hair up, exposing his forehead and was wearing a black button up shirt with a bunch of white details that was missing quiet some buttons at the top. “You actually came,” he grinned, “You can put your jacket and bag into the back room.” He pointed to a door with the label ‘staff only’. “We’re opening in half an hour. I’ll introduce you to the others once they decide to arrive.” Nodding you rushed to put your stuff away. You were pleasantly surprised by how clean it was in the back. The beat up interior from the main room was nowhere to be found. So it really didn’t seem too bad if it was only shabby for aesthetic purposes.

After taking a couple of more deep breaths in front of the mirror in the staff room, you felt as prepared as you would ever be and emerged back into the main room of the bar. Next to Kun behind the counter was now another man, clad in the tightest pair of leather pants you had ever seen and a loose, see through black blouse, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off a variety of piercings in his ears that were reflecting the low light of the neon signs. When both men noticed you, the blonde flashed you a bright smile and quickly wiped his fingers on the towel he had used to dry some glasses and held it out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Ten. Kun told me he had finally found someone willing to help us out on the weekends but he missed to tell me how cute you are. Don’t worry the customers are all nice and if anyone gives you any problems, weird stares or makes inappropriate comments, just tell me immediately and I’ll throw them out,” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the image of this petite man throwing drunken men twice his size out of the bar. “Thank you,” you answered before introducing yourself as well. “Would you please wipe down the tables in the back?” Kun asked, handing you a cloth, “The other waiter should be here any minute, so he can walk you through the process.” “You’re all males working here?” You asked shyly while starting to wipe the tall round tables closest to the bar. “Honey, there’s not many woman brave enough to even set a foot in here even though about eighty percent of our regulars and hundred percent of our staff are big softies hiding behind leather jackets and tattoos,” Ten chirped, disappearing beneath the counter to check the tubes of the beer taps.

Speaking of the other staff, as if on queue the door slammed open to reveal a ridiculously tall man with the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen, his platinum hair swept back from his forehead, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Yooo, the poster with the job offer is gone, did you finally find someone?” The man all but shouted, excitedly bouncing up and down on his way to the bar, shucking off his leather jacket and carelessly throwing it on one of the bar stools to reveal toned arms and a strong chest straining his short sleeved black shirt. “Xuxi, indoor voice please,” Kun groaned, massaging his temples. “Oh sorry,” the other man - Xuxi - answered, flashing Kun big puppy eyes. “We did find someone, please don’t scare her off,” Ten answered Xuxi’s initial question, emerging back from under the counter, smashing the door shut, which caused Kun to groan again. “That thing has a handle for a reason,” he sighed. “It keeps opening itself back up otherwise,” the smaller man shrugged, leaning against the now spotless counter, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wait, her?” Xuxi asked, eyes wide in either excitement or amazement, “As in she? A girl?” “Yes, hello,” you quietly introduced yourself, stepping out from the corner where you had been cleaning the tabletops.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Xuxi said instead of a proper introduction when you walked over to where the three men were standing. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, tinting them a rosy color. Sighing, Kun took the dirty cloth from you and rinsed it in the sink. “This is Xuxi, the other waiter for tonight. As you might have noticed he doesn’t have much of a filter, but i swear he is harmless.” “Just call me Lucas at work, it’s easier,” the man in question grinned, not even bothering to correct Kun and extended a hand for you to shake (needless to say because he was unnecessary tall, his huge hand could almost cover your whole fist). “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he beamed and even though he had just called you cute, he was definitely the cutest person currently in this room. “Thank you,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips because Xuxi’s grin was really infectious and you felt your anxiety disappearing.

In the remaining time before the bar would officially open, Xuxi taught you everything you needed to know. From their system and how you’d take the orders and which tables you would serve to special drinks that weren’t on the menu and what to do if any customers would give you trouble. “There’s probably not much to do for the first two hours or so”, Xuxi concluded, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, making his muscles dance beneath his shirt, “Like that you can get used to it before it gets packed. Fridays are always busy and there’s a bunch of different people coming. Did any regulars call in before?” He asked the last question to the general direction of the bar. Flipping through a book next to the cash register, Ten nodded. “127 are coming in, they got that big table in the back but other than that, no one called.” “What’s 127?” You asked curiously because that was one of the tables you were supposed to serve. “They’re a group of guys our age, but I’m not really sure what exactly they are to be honest,” Xuxi laughed while fixing the belt that held his wallet before handing you your own one. “I think they are bikers,” Ten supplied, turning around to reorganizing the bottles behind the bar for the third time tonight, “At least some of them have bikes and they sure look the part. Have you seen Johnny’s new tattoo the other week, Xuxi? That must have hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I saw the post with his chestpiece on his Instagram. That man is ripped.” “Well, you’re one to talk,” you murmured under your breath, organizing the contents of the belt to your liking. Laughing out loud, Ten slapped Kun on the chest. “We need to keep her, I like her,” he giggled and Kun just shot you a slightly pained smile, rubbing where Ten’s hand had come down. “Oh come on, old man. I didn’t even hit that hard.” “Stop calling me old, I am literally just two months older than you,” Kun groaned, softly shaking a grinning Ten. Unbothered by the bickering of the two barmen, Xuxi called over from the door: “I’ll switch on the sign!”

Your anxiety came back at full force when the bar started to fill up one hour after it opened. Resisting the urge to hide behind the bar, you approached yet another group of shady looking men to take their orders. Like the other people you had served before, they gave you a weird look while looking up and down your frame once before asking if you were new here. You just nodded and smiled politely while writing down their orders before walking back to the bar where you took out one of the trays and put the note with the order on top so Ten or Kun could put the according drinks on top. “Here, have a little drink, the night is just beginning,” Ten grinned and pushed a glass into your hands before completing the order while somehow also dancing fluently to the music that was playing through the speakers now. You eyed the drink suspiciously, the deep orange color throwing you off a bit. “It’s not spiked, no need to worry,” Xuxi told you, suddenly appearing next to you, placing his own tray with empty glasses onto the counter, winking teasingly before grabbing a colorful bottle to pour a bunch of shots, so Ten and Kun could focus on the other, more complicated drinks on the orders. You drowned the sickly sweet drink quickly and put the glass next to the ones that needed to be rinsed. You mouthed Ten a ‘thank you’ when you picked up your order and he blew you an exaggerated kiss, making you giggle and feel a little more at ease. It was like he had known you were being nervous again.

After checking in with your other tables and earning a big tip from some truckers that actually had been really nice, you made your way back to the bar to help Kun with rinsing the glasses that had been piling up. “You remember those regulars that were coming in tonight?” the blue haired barman suddenly asked, “That’s them.” He nodded towards the door where a group of men were coming in. For a moment, your breath got caught in your throat because Ten hadn’t been wrong earlier when he said that those 127 guys looked like bikers. Honestly anyone of them could have been a model for the leather clothes they were wearing while standing in front of a Harley Davidson or thrashing something with a baseball bat. (Also was one of them wearing a metal harness beneath his leather vest?) “They’re all nice people, no need to worry,” Kun calmed you down, shooting you a reassuring smile before taking the beer glass from your hands that you had started to grip so hard, your knuckles were turning white. “How many are they?” You asked him curiously while eyeing the group as they made their way over to their designated table, greeting other regulars as well as Lucas (one of them was apparently just as incapable of having an indoor voice as him when he loudly yelled ‘Lucas’ before hugging the taller male tightly).

“Yooo, Johnny’s chestpiece looks even more sick in real life,” Lucas said with wide eyes when he came back to the bar. “Also he gave me 20 dollar so I would ask Haechan and Mark if they were even legal when they would order something alcoholic,” he grinned, “I’ll share if you do it.” “How am I supposed to know who to ask?” You asked because even though you were shy, 20 dollars were 20 dollars. “That’s the spirit,” Lucas grinned and threw an arm around your shoulders to turn you in the direction of the table where the men had sat down, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You see the one with the purple hair sitting next to the tall one with half his chest exposed? The purple haired one is Haechan and the tall one is Johnny. Mark is the one on the stool to the left, just ask Haechan for his age first, Mark will be the one to laugh the loudest,” he quickly explained. “You know them quite well,” you said, trying to fight the heat spreading across your cheeks because it didn’t happen any day that you were in such a close proximity to a handsome man like Lucas. “I went to school with Mark,” he shrugged, letting you go when Kun yelled that his order was ready.

Before walking up to their table you took another deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart, repeating in your head how no one had been mean to you yet and that all your coworkers kept on telling you how nice they were supposed to be. “Hi everyone,” you greeted them when you arrived at the table, “Have you already decided what you want to order?” Seeing the chaos that the group was already in, half of them probably didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the table. “Guys!” The pink haired man wearing the harness type thing scolded the others that were bickering in the back of the little booth on the couch. “I’m sorry, they usually behave better,” he smiled and his big eyes combined with his pink hair made him look like he came straight out of an animation. “I’m Taeyong by the way,” the pink haired man supplied, flashing you a genuine smile, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Today is my first day,” you nodded, cheeks heating up under the gaze of the handsome man, nervously playing with your little notepad. “Let’s order, guys!” Taeyong said, the others slowly turning their attention towards you. How all of them were this handsome was beyond your imagination. Shyly you introduced yourself as their waiter for the night for the second time and asked for their orders. One after the other they either ordered plain beer or some really extraordinary cocktails that you had never heard of before. When the purple haired boy, Haechan, ordered his cocktail, you took a deep breath before putting on your best poker face. “Could I see your ID to check your age first?”

As soon as the words had left your lips, the whole table fell dead silent and the boy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But before you could lose your courage to mutter an apology, the boy that had greeted Lucas loudly before, burst out in laughter, that the others minus Haechan quickly joined and even you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread over your face. “Now that I think about it, could I see yours as well?” You followed up and asked the dark haired boy with the infectious laugh, whose eyes immediately turned into saucers, his mouth wide open while the others couldn’t hold their laughs anymore, the purple haired boy joining in now. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, turning to the last man to order when they all had calmed down, using the napkins on the table to exaggeratedly wipe their tears. “What can I get you?” When the man with the dark hair that was elegantly swept back from his face turned towards you, you could swear that time stilled for a moment. His dark eyes that were accentuated with a bit of eyeshadow fixed yours and you were captivated, unable to look away. When your eyes dipped lower for a second you could see the black ink of a tattoo on the pale skin of his neck. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite tell why. Maybe you had seen him around on campus. But even then you should have been able to tell because that tattoo really wasn’t subtle at all. Briefly you were wondering if he could ever work a normal job with something like that. “I think I’ll just start with a beer as well,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble, tearing you from your thoughts. After you had definitely stared at him for way too long than it would have been acceptable, you tore your gaze away from him, quickly scribbling down his order as well, repeating what you had written down for the others to confirm.

“Great, then I’ll be back in a bit with your drinks,” you smiled, after one of them had insisted that they should get a round of shots as well. “Can’t wait,” the tall one with the eagle tattoo on his chest said with a smirk on his lips, adding a cheesy wink that made you way more flustered than you would have liked. You quickly turned to hide your heated face, speed walking back over to the bar to put their order down. “Did you do it?” Lucas eagerly asked, bouncing up and down in excitement where he was helping to dry some glasses behind the counter. “Where’s my money?” You grinned, holding out your palm towards him. “Waaa, you really did it,” he grinned while bouncing up and down excitedly and you could barely hold in the urge to coo at him. He really did resemble an oversized puppy. You barely knew him for more than a couple of hours but he already had wiggled his way into your heart.

“Lucas, you didn’t tell us such a pretty girl would be serving us tonight,” a smooth male voice suddenly interrupted. When you turned around, the tall man from the 127 gang (Were they a gang? Did they do illegal stuff?) came walking up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. “She’s new here, I didn’t know either,” Lucas pouted, already grabbing two shot glasses to put up on the bar top, putting the third one back down when you shook your head. You weren’t going to drink on your first day of work even though it seemed to be normal when you watched Lucas fill up the two glasses with a shady looking liquid from an unlabeled bottle he had grabbed from below the counter. Clinking their glasses together both men drowned their shots and while the tall biker didn’t even flinch, Lucas broke out into a whole body shiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “This stuff is really fucking disgusting,” he grimaced before refilling one of the shot glasses again, shoving it in front of the other man again, “I don’t know how Ten manages to make these concoctions.” Grinning, the man in question suddenly appeared and snatched the shot glass from below the other‘s fingers, drowning it himself. The blonde only grimaced a little. “I gotta say, I’ve made better stuff but also definitely worse. Lucas, we need a new keg of beer, can you please get one from the back, you’re so much stronger than I am,” Ten pouted, batting his lashes at Lucas and rubbing one of his hands over the other’s muscled arms. “Be nice to her,” Lucas told the man with the big tattoo on his chest and quickly disappeared to the back.

“I’m Johnny by the way,” he introduced himself, running a hand through his dark red hair. “So you’re the one who asked Lucas to embarrass your friends,” you remembered, your eyes getting caught on the intricate feathers of the eagle that spread its wings over Johnny’s broad chest. He smirked when your eyes came back up to meet his. “That would be me. You like the tattoo?” “It looks nice,” you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring, “It’s not something you see every day.” “I have some other ones that are pretty interesting as well,” he winked. “Su-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up for what must have been the millionth time this night. “You’re cute,” Johnny laughed, the sound bright and inviting, his eyes turning into little crescents. “What did you come over for? Did I miss something on the order?” You tried to move the conversation in a direction you were a little (a lot) more comfortable with. “I just thought I could put my muscles to use and help you carry our drinks, we ordered quite a lot. Also I still owe you money for pulling that prank on Mark and Haechan. Even though their faces were priceless.” “How old are they anyways?” You asked him because you didn’t actually ended up looking at their IDs and Haechan especially did seem quite young. Digging out his worn out wallet, Johnny fished out a twenty dollar bill and teasingly held it up between two fingers. “They’re both of age, don’t worry, they just have baby faces.”

Snatching the bill from his hands, you quickly stuffed it in your pocket. “Thank you,” you grinned, relieved that it really had just been a prank between friends. “How old are you then?” You heard yourself asking after you had glanced at the tray that Ten had been filling up, but a couple of glasses were still missing. The weird cocktails seemed to take quite some time to make (Why there was celery swimming in what looked like tomato juice was a mystery to you). “Let’s pretend I’m in my early twenties,” Johnny grinned, his long fingers playing with the cherries that were stuck to the rim of one of the cocktail glasses. “Pretend?” You were confused. He couldn’t be much older than you were. “It’s improper for old men like me to flirt with such pretty young girls after all,” he winked and stuck out his tongue. “You… You can’t be much older than me though,” you argued, trying to fight your shyness back down. But your furiously beating heart was betraying you. Luckily he couldn’t notice that from his place where he was still leaning against the counter, the long line of his body perfectly shown off; his legs seemed almost endlessly long in the heavy leather pants. Chuckling, he raked his eyes across your body in a similar way you must have seconds ago but you felt like you were burning up wherever he was looking. Within the blink of an eye he was in your personal space, crowding you against the bar. “I’m 25,” he breathed, “How long do you have to work today, honey?”

Before you could even think of an answer, Johnny was shoved backwards by another man dressed completely in black. You recognized him as one of the men from Johnny’s gang, the one with the neck tattoo that had seemed weirdly familiar to you. “Leave her alone, Johnny,” he drawled, his voice barely more than a growl, “There’s someone waiting for you outside.” After a moment of heavy eye contact between the two males, Johnny scoffed and threw you another smile. “See you later, darling,” he chirped before turning towards the exit. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes,” the handsome man spoke, his voice still deep but way less threatening. “It’s… It’s fine you wouldn’t have needed to step in like that,” you reassured him, “But thank you.” “Yeah, I don’t know, something just didn’t sit right with me when he crowded you like that. Especially when you’re new to this type of environment, it’s pretty different from your usual job.” “My usual job?” You asked, clearly confused, “Do we know each other?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had recognized me,” the man’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted his gaze as if he was embarrassed. “I’m Jaehyun. You know, the dude who keeps killing his plants.” Now it was your turn to be surprised. “No way. You look so different.” “It’s the clothes, right?” Jaehyun was rubbing the intricate lines of ink on his neck, looking up from between his dark lashes, smiling shyly and now that his dimples were almost showing, you did finally recognize him.

He was somewhat of a regular customer at the flower shop you worked in during the week to help out the old lady who owned the shop, always coming in to buy new plants when he had managed to kill yet another one. Now in the heavy leather jacket with more buckles and straps than you could count, he looked so different than when he came to the shop, his dark hair fluffy so his bangs almost covered his eyes and wearing soft sweaters and jeans. You also somehow had never noticed the big tattoo that stretched around his neck.

You could remember the first time he came into the shop very vividly. It was just after your break that you had spent lazing around in the backyard of the shop in front of the little greenhouse, letting the sun shine onto your face, just basking in the moment for a bit, letting all your worries about money or upcoming exams melt away. The job at the little flower job didn’t pay very well because people these days bought less and less flowers and the old lady couldn’t afford to pay more but you couldn’t just leave her alone in the shop. You really enjoyed her presence and learning about the language of flowers and how to bind pretty bouquets. When the distant chirping of the old cuckoo clock in the shop announced the end of your break, you got up from your place and put your apron back on, so you wouldn’t accidentally dirty your clothes. You came back into the shop just in time to see the big load of new plants that was being delivered. Two boys were unloading a colorful truck while continuously bickering in what seemed to be Chinese about where to put the plants in the shop and on the sidewalk outside so people could still walk past. “Urgh, this sucks why did we let us get talked into helping out?” The one with green hair sighed after they had put the last plant down, handing the old lady the papers she had to sign that the shipment had arrived at her place. She chuckled while handing the papers back. “I’ve made some iced tea, have a little break, boys,” she smiled her kind, wrinkled smile at them, taking them to the little kitchen area in the back to pour each one of them a glass even though the smaller of them had declined her offer at least ten times while his green haired friend gladly took her invitation.

Smiling you reassured the old lady that you would rearrange the flowers and plants so you could fit them all into the shop and the small greenhouse in the back. Maybe her grandson would come in later to help you move the heavier plants. He always came to the shop to laze around without having his parents scold him and his grandmother could never say no to his charming smile that made any girl his age swoon. He had recently dyed his hair a soft pinkish shade and had been hanging around the shop a lot more because his parents weren’t quite fond of his style choices. You gently stroked the leaves of the little pink rose bushes (that had kind of reminded you of the boy in the first place) that seemed rather thirsty to you, making a mental note to water them lots after you had arranged them.

While rearranging the cut roses so you could fit the new bushes in between them, the little bell on the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. “I’ll be right over,” you said, detangling yourself from the bush you had tried to fit in the display window. “No need to hurry,” the customer answered with a deep voice. It wasn’t often that men visited your store. And most times they just wanted a quick, expensive looking bouquet to either impress a girl or to apologize to their wife. Putting on your best customer friendly smile, you walked over to where the man was eyeing some cherry tree bonsais, his broad back turned towards you. “How can I help you?” When the man turned around, he immediately politely smiled at you, making your heart beat pick up just a little. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. His dark hair was unstyled and hung into his eyes a bit, covering his strong eyebrows that every girl would be envious over. He seemed young, about your age. The pale blue hoodie and the fluffy hair made him seem very soft and gentle despite his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. “Well I’ve moved into a new space and it looks a little empty, so I thought some plants might be the way to fix that,” he explained, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized hoodie. “That’s a great idea,” you beamed, trying to seem reassuring since he seemed rather nervous, “Do you have anything special in mind?” “No, I really don’t but those roses you just put in the display window look very pretty, it’s what made me come in,” he said, motioning to where you had been fighting with the roses earlier. “Roses need a lot of attention though,” you warned him, walking over to where you had tucked the little bushes into a corner. “I have a lot of time and like a good challenge,” he answered, a grin tugging at his lips, a set of dimples just barely showing, “You’re bleeding by the way.” He added, gently touching your hand. Startled, you jerked away, heat licking at your cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “But you should bandage that or it might get infected if something gets into the wound.” “Don’t worry, it’s not even that deep,” you concluded after examining the small cut on the back of your hand where you had lost the battle with one of the thorns. You quickly shot the man another smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“So do any of those roses look good to you?” “The pale orange ones look nice.” You couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “What’s so funny?” He asked, his beautiful brows drawn together in confusion. “The color is called peach,” you still giggled, grabbing the pot to show him the petals in the sunlight. “Well it is orange though,” he shrugged. “Men and colors,” you sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips, “You like them and want to try caring for them?” “Yeah, let’s try it. Anything I should look out for?” While walking up to the cash register and ringing him up, you briefly explained how to take care of the roses the best.

“I hope they brighten up your room a bit,” you smiled when he had paid. “The visit sure brightened up my day,” he replied smiling widely, the set of cute dimples reappearing on his cheeks. Before you could overcome your sudden shyness to reply anything, he had already wished you a good day and disappeared from the shop.

After his visit, the man had crept back into your mind a couple of times. Every time you watered the little twin of the rose bush he had bought, it somehow reminded you of his sweet dimpled smile and his deep, soothing voice. You always scolded yourself when you noticed how you were spacing out, in fact watering the floor instead of the little rose bushes how you were supposed to. (You had been made fun of by a certain pink haired boy one too many times lately.) Your boss had just smiled knowingly and pressed a little bouquet with beautiful yellow Chrysanthemums in the middle, when you had closed up the shop, making your face heat up and furiously deny everything. But like always, the old lady knew you probably better than you knew yourself.

The second time the handsome stranger had visited the shop, he had been wearing a white turtle neck and a simple denim jacket, his hair pushed back with a dark blue hat. “Hello again,” he greeted you, gently smiling when he walked up to the counter where you were currently binding a bouquet with a couple of big purple hyacinths, “I’ll have a little look around. No need to hurry that.” Even though you tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in the bouquet and picking smaller flowers that would look good with the big center piece, you kept glancing over to the man who was sniffing different flowers, quietly sneezing when he inhaled too deeply.

“Those are really pretty,” he said after he had not so subtly watched you work for a while from his place between the brightly colored geraniums while walking up to the counter. “The man who commissioned them paid a lot of money for them to look pretty,” you smiled, gently tucking smaller white flowers all around the big purple ones in the middle. “Does it mean anything? I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You’re interested in the language of flowers?” You asked, securely tying the bouquet together, placing them in a vase for the time being. “What languages would flowers speak?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused. For a moment you could just stare at him, his dark brown eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, before you burst out in a fit of giggles. “Hey! What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to sound offended but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. “They don’t speak any language, silly. The different types of flowers mean different things. I don’t know all of it but the owner of the shop has been teaching me some of it,” you explained to him. “Ooh, that makes a lot more sense,” he nodded, “What do those mean then?” “They’re hyacinths. The man told me he needed to apologize to his girlfriend. The purple ones stand for sorrow. I doubt she will notice though.” “Probably not,” he chuckled. “What did the rose mean I bought last time? The peach one?” “I’m not quite sure, I’ll ask my boss when she’s back. What brings you back here?” “Well,” he scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, “I need a new plant, the rose was kind of a lot more work than I thought it was.”

“Oh no.” You felt genuinely sad. You kind of had expected it not to go well but this was honestly a lot faster than you could have imagined. “I should have listened to you when you told me that they were a lot, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “But I really want to try to keep a plant alive. She looked really good for the time she was alive.” “She?” “Well I gave her a name.” You giggled again. “That’s really cute.” “Not as cute as you though.” It was suddenly so silent in the shop, the only noise the soft buzzing sound coming from the air-conditioning. You stared into the man’s eyes, expecting a his face to heat up in a similar fashion yours was, to see a blush creep up his face or his ears, but his face stayed perfectly pale, not a single blotch of color visible. But he had to be embarrassed as well if the way he was chewing on his lips was any sign. “I’m sorry, that just slipped,” he mumbled. “I… Shouldn’t you at least tell me your name before you start complimenting me like that?” You stuttered when you found your voice again. “Jaehyun,” he supplied, still awkwardly shuffling around, “It’s Jaehyun.” “Alright Jaehyun, let’s find you a new plant that’s not as easy to kill.

From that day onward Jaehyun came to the shop somewhat regularly, either announcing the death of yet another plant or telling you how they were on the brink of death and he didn’t know how it happened or what to do to save them. You were really close to either tell him to stick to bouquets or cacti but when you were being honest, you enjoyed his little visits. He’d stay longer and longer every time, telling you little stories about how he suspected that his roommates were secretly killing all the plants. In turn you told him about your boring life between your classes and your job. And sometimes you even taught him about the language of flowers while he was watching you put together a bouquet for yet another desperate boyfriend.

One visit in particular had stuck with you for some reason. Your whole day had just been bad: One of your professors had caught you slacking off in class and called you out in front of everyone, then at lunch a guy had run into you, making you drop half your food on the floor and then it had started to rain on your way to work. And if that wasn’t enough, the old lady hadn’t been feeling well because of the sudden change in weather and you had sent her off into her apartment that was above the shop, so she could rest. So now you were just alone in the shop, watching the people outside hurry past the shop with their umbrellas. When it was raining even less people were coming into the shop because you couldn’t put any plants outside that often lured people in. Sighing, you continued with the inventory that you had started out of boredom. Of course you also hadn’t brought any useful books, so you could have studied a little.

You must have been deep in thought, moping about how much this day sucked, that you didn’t hear the little bell on the door ringing. So when someone touched your arm to get your attention, you of course were startled and let out a small scream before you lost your balance on the stepladder that you had used to count the spare pots on a higher shelf. And if that wasn’t enough, you also pushed one of said pots down as well. But before you could even brace yourself for the fall, a strong arm had wrapped around you, saving you from crashing down onto the floor and possibly cracking your head open. When you opened your eyes, that you had screwed shut, you saw straight into Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes that were full of concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he spoke softly and you could feel how his voice rumbled in his chest from how close he was holding you to his body. “It’s alright, it’s my fault anyways. I wasn’t paying attention,” you sighed, slowly realizing in what kind of situation you and Jaehyun were in right now. His face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single one of his long, dark eyelashes. You could even see the faintest little blush spreading over his cheeks and your own face immediately felt hot as well.

Jaehyun just smiled and released you from his grip, gently setting the pot he somehow had managed to catch with his other hand back onto the shelf. He really must have incredible reflexes and obviously the most charming smile you had ever seen. “Don’t blame yourself, you don’t look too good today,” he spoke softly. “Wow thanks,” you sarcastically said, sighing theatrically while running your hands through your hair in an attempt to smooth it out, but probably messing it up further than it already was. “Hard day?” You snorted. Hard was an understatement. It sucked. But a little voice in the back of your head whispered that now that Jaehyun had come to visit you in the shop, it would get better. “You look like you could use a hug,” he smiled and opened his arms invitingly.

Before you could even think twice about it, you wound your arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, burying your face in the soft fabric of his cardigan that he wore over one of his many turtlenecks. Chuckling, he grabbed the fabric and stretched it around you, so you were basically wrapped up in it against his chest, before wrapping you up in his strong arms. You were drowning in his by now familiar scent and the way his chest steadily rose and fell with his breath made all stress from your body slowly dissolve. “If you keep holding me like this I will cry,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from him. “I don’t mind, you know? Sometimes you just have to cry to let all the stress out,” he assured you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t say that, I will ugly cry in your shirt,” you hiccupped, “I barely know you.” “Oh I think you know me a lot better than a lot of people,” he smiled, “It’s an old shirt anyways.” “Liar, I’ve never seen you wear this before.” “You’re keeping track?” He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant by that,” you mumbled, feeling shy suddenly because how could you not keep track when he just effortlessly looked infuriatingly good every time he walked into the shop.

“You feeling better now?” Jaehyun gently asked after you two had fallen silent, just basking in each other’s presence. He gently tilted your head back from where you had buried it in his neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed, captivated by him. You had never noticed the tiny mole he had on one of his cheeks but you found it really endearing. “Good,” he smiled, “I brought you coffee from the shop next door.” He motioned to the two cups he had placed on the counter next to the cash register. “You have a heart of gold Jaehyun,” you confessed, a smile slowly spreading on your lips and your heartbeat picking up. You kept the thought that he probably would also make the perfect boyfriend, to yourself. Not that it would matter, you were sure he didn’t see you like that. He just played it off, laughing awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. (Coming to think of it, you really seemed to know him better than you had initially thought.) “Let’s drink it before it gets cold and you can tell me more about your day,” he offered and slowly loosened his arms around you. “Can you tell me about yours instead?” You asked with a small voice. “I’d rather forget all of this stupid day before you walked in here.” “Of course, darling,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat before doubling its pace when the pet name rolled of his tongue just like that. Maybe there was just the slightest little chance, he might consider you more than just the friend that worked in the flower shop that he had to visit to get advice on how to not kill his plants. Smiling you loosened your grip on him as well and you two sat down on the counter, dangling your legs and sipping the slightly cold coffee while you listened to Jaehyun ramble about the mess that were his flatmates. Until this day you hadn’t figured out how many people he actually lived with but you couldn’t help but smile at the little stories he told you. And even when he stopped talking, you just enjoyed the silence while watching the people outside. And maybe it was just your imagination but the umbrellas outside seemed just a little brighter with your head resting on Jaehyun’s broad shoulder.

“I’ve never noticed your whole tattoo thing that’s going on,” you said, motioning around your own neck when you came back from your fond memories of Jaehyun. “Yeah, I try to not let it show as much usually,” he replied, almost nervously playing with the collar of his leather jacket. “Did it hurt a lot when you got it?” “Yeah, the skin is kind of tender around your neck,” he answered, his gaze not meeting your eyes but fixating a point right behind you. “You get that question a lot don’t you?” you gently asked, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. “Yeah, it’s all people talk about when they see it,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it by now.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It’s fine,” Jaehyun reassured you, gently grazing his fingers over your exposed forearm, making goose bumps break out over your skin. “Yes, it did hurt. No I don’t regret it. Yes I probably can’t work a normal job if I’m not wearing a turtleneck. No, I didn’t get it in prison. It was done in a perfectly sanitary tattoo shop by a professional artist. No, I’m not a criminal”, he quickly addressed every typical question he apparently got about the tattoo in a single breath, a smile spreading on his lips, making his dimples appear and your heart beat faster.

“Glad to know I haven’t been talking to a criminal over the past few weeks even though you did kill an unholy amount of plants,” you giggled, checking again if the order was ready only to find Ten engrossed in a conversation with a group of young men that were sitting at the bar, his work forgotten. “Well I guess I am guilty of that,” Jaehyun pouted and it was weirdly endearing seeing him act playful like that with his dark and intimidating clothing. “So you’re not a criminal but a biker?” “Is that what you think our group is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “That’s what everyone told me at least. And you do look the part.” “A couple of us do have bikes, but I don’t think that justifies the title. We’re just a,” he bit his tongue for a bit, “We’re just friends. Friends who like to dress in a lot of leather and black clothing.”

It seemed to be a somewhat touchy subject so you decided to not push any further. “You don’t need to explain it to me,” you smiled reassuringly, quickly squeezing his cold hand. “Jaehyun, stop flirting with my best waitress,” Kun teased, adding the little shot glasses to the second tray that completed the order. “I wasn’t flirting, I-“ but Jaehyun didn’t complete his apology when Kun shot him a knowing look and your face heated up on his behalf because Jaehyun didn’t blush like ever. “Stop making excuses and help her carry all this back to the table,” the barman grinned, returning to his work by pulling Ten back by the hairs on his neck from where he was still talking to the handsome customers sitting at the bar. “I would appreciate some help, that’s what Johnny came over for as well,” you tried to push past the awkwardness. “Like hell he was,” Jaehyun grumbled, grabbing the one of the trays maybe a tad too forceful than he needed to, the drinks almost spilling over. “Don’t be angry with him, he was being nice,” you consoled him, gently petting his leather clad arm (wasn’t he warm in that thick jacket?). “I saw just how nice he was being,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders, “He’s such a goddamn flirt.” “Nothing happened Jaehyun,” you tried one last time, looking into his dark eyes, getting lost in the seemingly bottomless obsidian.

Only the thud of the heavy entrance door made you snap out of it and you quickly turned to grab the second tray. You hadn’t even noticed how you had gravitated towards Jaehyun, it was like his eyes had hypnotized you. “Need another pair of helping hands?” A familiar voice asked and Johnny strode over towards you two again, now with an energetic bounce in his step, his red lips curved into a smile. “We’ve got it,” Jaehyun answered, scrunching his nose as if he had smelled something bad before taking a deep breath. “Don’t wait too long, Jaehyun,” the taller said, his tone suddenly stern and his brows furrowed. “I can handle it, Johnny,” Jaehyun gritted out, shoving past the taller man to make his way over to the table where their friends were still waiting for their drinks. Sighing, you followed him back to the table. It was weird how different he was behaving with his friends around. You had never expected to meet him in any place outside of your job at the flower shop and much less in a place like this. The soft man who liked to wear denim jackets seemed to be buried beneath the heavy leather jacket.

“Here’s your drinks,” you smiled when you put the tray down to distribute the drinks. “You’re not drinking with us?” A blonde man with a scratch in his eyebrow asked when everyone had picked up their shot glasses. “It’s my first day, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you politely declined his offer. “I’m sure Ten and Kun won’t mind,” he grinned, lifting up his own glass to hand it over to you. “She said no, didn’t you hear, Yuta?” Jaehyun growled and shot his friend a dark look. Unfazed by his behavior, the blonde - Yuta - shrugged his shoulders before drowning his shot himself, not grimacing in the slightest even though the liquid had a questionable amount of alcohol in it, judging by the numbers that had been printed on the label. “But I’m sure we can treat you to something else,” he spoke, before shifting in his seat so his poorly buttoned sleeveless shirt fell open even further, revealing smooth skin that stretched over lean muscles and a promise of something metal hidden beneath. “I-“, you stuttered. What were you supposed to reply to something like that? “You’re shameless,” one of his dark haired friends chuckled, a silver chain glistening in the light when he shook his head. “It’s called confidence,” Yuta defeated himself. “Still shameless,” another one agreed, a grin on his face. “He hasn’t had a good lay in a while, don’t mind him,” Taeyong cut in, shooting you a reassuring smile. “Certainly not because I didn’t had any offers, I’m just picky,” Yuta tried to defend himself, looking scandalized. You just giggled when the other’s started picking on him. You noticed that Jaehyun didn’t join in but his posture was more relaxed than it had been before. You really wanted to thank him for defending your choice to not drink but now didn’t seem appropriate. Silently you collected the now empty shot glasses and picked the trays back up. “I’ll be back to check in with you later then,” you smiled before walking back to the counter after checking in with a couple of other tables.

The rest of the night went down in a blur safe for the one occasion where the slender Ten indeed threw out one of the customers that couldn’t hold his liquor anymore and had fallen when he had tried to walk over to the bar to order more because Lucas had already refused to bring him any more drinks. The times when you had checked in on the 127 table, Yuta had still flirted with you only to be either shot down by Jaehyun or Taeyong. You had also noticed that over the course of the night one or two of them would always leave the bar for a couple of minutes before coming back inside with a new energy and a faint blush on their cheeks. You didn’t know what they did out there but you really hoped they didn’t do drugs or anything like that. They didn’t seem as intoxicated as the other customers no matter how much they ordered. If anything Mark was getting giggly after he had come back inside but that was pretty much everything. They all must have incredible tolerance for alcohol.

When the night died down and more and more customers were leaving, Kun waved you over to tell you that you had been a great help and he would be more than happy to see you again tomorrow for your next shift. You had beamed at him and promised to do your best. “I’m sure you will. Thank you for today, I think Lucas and I can handle the remaining customers,” he told you. “What’s with Ten?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in a while. Kun just sighed and motioned to the 127 table where Ten comfortably sat on Johnny’s lap, the taller carding through the blonde’s hair that he had freed from the little ponytail. “Are they a thing?” You were confused. Johnny hadn’t been subtle about his flirting earlier. “No one really knows,” Kun groaned, suddenly seeming very irritated, “It’s been happening more lately but last week he went home with Taeyong as far as I remember.” “Oh…” “Don’t think about it too much. I want to say that he knows what he’s doing but that would mean that he’s actually using his brain.” Somehow you thought that he sounded sad. “Just tell Ten that you like him, Kun,” Lucas groaned, running a hand through his by now messy platinum hair. “I don’t like him,” the elder gritted out, violently cleaning glasses and slamming them onto a rack to dry. “Sure and I’ve never thought about making out with any of your roommates,” Lucas teased him. “You have what?” “Never mind I said that,” Lucas mumbled, his ears turning red, before he made a beeline to one of his tables.

You chuckled quietly. “I think he’s fond of you as well,” you softly spoke after Kun had thrown another longing look at Ten who was busy admiring the eagle tattoo on Johnny’s chest. “You don’t need to console me, but I appreciate it,” he smiled but it didn’t quiet reach his eyes, “I came to accept him how he is.” “You should at least try to shoot you shout though, don’t you think?” You tried again, stepping closer to the barman to help him clean the last glasses. He sighed deeply. “I’ve known Ten for too long now, I know he won’t suddenly become monogamous just because I tell him that I might not dislike him as much as I sometimes say.” “You can never know for sure, people do crazy stuff because of love,” a deep voice joined the conversation and Jaehyun sat down on the barstool in front of Kun and you, throwing you a quick smile. “He’s right,” you smiled, briefly squeezing Kun’s hand. “If I say that I’ll think about it, will you leave it alone for now?” You eagerly nodded, looking up at Jaehyun to see if he was doing the same. Instead a smirk played on his lips. “If you give me my drinks for free, I’ll even tell Johnny to not take Ten home tonight,” he grinned, holding up his card between two fingers. “You’re paying for everyone?” Kun just gritted out, snatching the card from the other’s fingers. Jaehyun’s grin widened before he nodded. “Isn’t that going to be a lot of money?” You asked worriedly. You had never asked but assumed Jaehyun must be a student like you, so paying the whole bill for nine men (well eight if Kun was giving Jaehyun his own drinks for free) was a lot. “I lost at rock paper scissors,” he shrugged, “Are you done with your shift?”

“She is,” Kun cut in, smacking the credit card back onto the bartop, “Tell Johnny to send him home, I’m not feeding his cats again because they’re screaming for food.” “Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jaehyun joked, pocketing his card with a grin. Kun didn’t answer, instead leaving you two alone to wipe some empty tables. “Are you going home alone?” “It’s not far from here,” you reassured the dark haired man. “I’ll walk you. You shouldn’t go alone this late.” “Only if it’s not a bother for you…” “Keeping you safe is never a bother for me,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you barely suppressed a shiver from how cold his hands were against your heated face. “I’ll tell the other’s not to wait for me and will wait outside for you,” he softly spoke before turning to walk out the door where his friends apparently had already left.

You quickly gathered your things and sorted out your tips from the rest of the money, putting everything back into the place that Lucas had shown you before disappearing into the staff room to stuff the money into your designated tip jar, so Lucas and you could share your tips with Ten and Kun. While you were quickly trying to fix your hair in the small mirror a very grumpy looking Ten joined you, groaning loudly. You had to suppress your smile. Jaehyun really had convinced Johnny to not take Ten home. “Men are trash, honey,” the blonde suddenly spoke, “Don’t fall for any of them.” “Did you get dumped?” You tried to act like you didn’t exactly knew what must have happened. “Can’t get dumped if you aren’t dating,” Ten chirped, smoothing out a wrinkle in his silky blouse, “But something similar.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to be darling, I’ll just annoy Kun a little more, maybe he’ll actually pop a vein these days,” he giggled mischievously. “Be nice to him, he seems like an actual sweetheart,” you said while slipping on your jacket and picking up your bag. “He is, darling. But where’s the fun in that?” Ten held the door open for you and followed you back to the main room. “Be safe on your way home.” “Jaehyun is waiting outside for me,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy under Ten’s intense gaze. “So that’s why Johnny wouldn’t take me with him,” he grinned. “No, no that’s not it. He just offered to walk me home,” you stuttered to explain yourself. It wasn’t like what Ten thought it was, right? Oh god. Not that Jaehyun was expecting anything now. He just had asked to walk you home though. Was it a code word for something you didn’t know? “I’m sure he only has the most noble motives,” the barkeeper snickered, “Go, don’t let prince charming wait for too long.” With that he waved you off, walking over to where Kun was wiping a table to drape his body over the other’s back, probably complaining about being dumped. But Kun didn’t seem to mind a whole lot, judging by the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

After you had barely escaped Xuxi’s suffocating goodbye hug, you stepped outside into the cold night, taking a deep breath. It was quiet for a Friday night but that might have just been the time. Worried you looked around when you couldn’t see Jaehyun’s broad figure anywhere. Did he ditch you? That didn’t seem like him. Curious you looked into the little ally beside the bar where the dumpsters were. At first you couldn’t make out anything in the dark but when your eyes had adjusted, you could make out a figure, no two, in the dark. One of them was wearing a familiar leather jacket with way too many buckles and straps to be convenient. The man was clinging to the second, unmoving figure and the whole scene made Goosebumps break out all over your body.

“J-Jaehyun?” you stuttered, your bag falling from your shoulder, landing on the concrete with a soft thud. As if he was electrocuted, the man with the dark clothes shoved the limp body he was holding onto just a second ago away from him, but no sound left the other man’s lips, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “I can explain this,” Jaehyun said, his lips a deep red and smeared with what seemed to be blood and eyes wide, tinted a bright crimson. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the scream that had been stuck in your throat threatening to spill now. But before it could rip free, a palm was pressed over your lips and your body collided with Jaehyun’s solid frame. “Please don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear which made all the hairs on your neck stand up. What was happening? Why was there blood on Jaehyun? Has his eyes changed color? How did he get across to you within the blink of an eye? What was with the other person? In a panic, your eyes scanned the alleyway and another muffled scream ripped from your throat when you saw that the man was still unmoving even though he was bleeding from a wound in his neck. “Please,” Jaehyun begged, his voice sounding strained, “Let me explain this, don’t hate me.” Being pressed so close to him, you couldn’t help but notice that his chest wasn’t moving in the slightest like it should if he was breathing. What was happening? Panic began to rise inside you and you felt like you were suffocating, your lungs not getting enough oxygen with Jaehyun’s palm pressed over your mouth. Panicking, you grabbed his wrist and let your nails dig into his skin, but the skin didn’t break. Desperate, you tried to get more air into your lungs, meeting his eyes in a silent plea. “Please don’t scream,” Jaehyun repeated firmly before he slowly freed your mouth, but kept holding you close.

You heaved a couple of heavy breaths, feeling the panic slowly disappear but your heart kept beating furiously, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you dizzy. “Let me take care of this and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Jaehyun spoke once your breathing had somewhat evened out. “I’ll release you now, don’t run away.” Your voice was still lost somewhere, so you just nodded. After confirming with a nod himself, he slowly uncurled from you and walked over to the other man who was still in a daze, staring straight ahead. “You will walk home now and not remember anything that happened from the moment you saw me approach you,” Jaehyun spoke to him, looking into his eyes intensely and if your own eyes weren’t playing a trick on you, Jaehyun’s eyes had turned a bright crimson color. He leaned into the other man again where his neck was still bleeding and when the man turned to leave and walk away, the area was clean. Instead Jaehyun’s lips were smeared with blood that he quickly wiped into his shirt. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” You whispered, your voice sounding raw as if you hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I can explain this,” he repeated again, turning his palms towards you in surrender when he walked back over. “How can you explain this? You- That- That man was straight up hypnotized and behaved like an actual puppet. And that blood. This is crazy. I’m dreaming. That’s it right? Or someone must have slipped me something in the bar and I’m tripping right now. Because this looks an awful lot like you just sucked that guy’s blood like you’re a vampire and that’s crazy. Vampires aren’t real. And I’ve seen you walk around in the middle of the day. But then again, your hands are always cold and I couldn’t even scratch you with my nails and you have mad reflexes,” you started to spiral, the words just falling from your lips. “Hey, take a breath. A deep breath, here,” Jaehyun softly spoke, gently taking your hands and pressing the palms on his chest, taking a deep breath himself. Even though you tried to breathe with him to calm down, you couldn’t help but notice that his fingers weren’t as cold as they had been before and that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat despite the fact that your palm was sitting right over his heart, just separated by his thin black shirt from the skin. “You… You don’t have a heartbeat,” you whispered, your eyes searching his that were a perfectly normal deep brown shade now while you pressed your palms down on his chest harder. “I don’t,” he spoke carefully, scanning your features for any changes, “I haven’t had one for a while.” “You aren’t breathing right now.” “I don’t need to. I keep forgetting.” “You… You’re forgetting to breathe?” “I usually do when I’m around humans but sometimes I forget.” “You say that as if you’re not…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too absurd. “As if I’m not human myself? I’m not. Not anymore.” “Then what are you?” “You’ve said it before, I’m a vampire,” he confessed.

“A vampire…” You repeated dumbfounded. It made sense, everything was adding up but this couldn’t be the explanation. Vampires were just made up. “And the others are too, they’re my coven. That’s why I didn’t want Johnny to talk to you.” “Would he have..?” Your eyes widened and one of your hands flew to your neck, covering where your pulse was fluttering beneath the skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, I could never,” Jaehyun whispered when he saw the fear in your eyes, gently cupping your face as if to prove his point. “I like you way too much to hurt you. And I won’t let anyone of the others even lay a finger on you.” Your eyes immediately flew to his lips that were still stained red when he leaned in even closer so you would be able to feel his breath mingling with yours if he was breathing. “I really want to kiss you right now, is that stupid?” The vampire whispered. “Don’t hurt me,” you whispered back, letting your eyes fall shut. “I could never,” he breathed before brushing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that send sparks through your whole body. When Jaehyun felt you relax against him, your fingers uncurling from his shirt, he kissed you again, firmer this time, wrapping his arms tight around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

When you felt your head start to get light, you gently tapped his strong chest and he immediately retreated, looking at you with a worried expression. “One of us still needs to breathe,” you giggled breathless. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, carding his fingers through your hair, just watching you breathe for a moment, losing himself in your eyes.

“I have another secret to tell you,” Jaehyun broke the silence, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “I don’t think you can shock me anymore,” you smiled back. “I didn’t actually kill any of the plants I bought. I just needed to have a reason to keep seeing you. Our house looks like a jungle.” You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning into his (not moving) chest that rumbled with his low chuckle. “You’re cute,” you smiled, snaking your arms around his waist below his jacket, somehow not even missing the warmth that bodies usually gave off. “Shut up,” he chuckled, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “You want to know something else?” You whispered into his chest after a while. The vampire just hummed, gently swaying you. “I looked up what the rose meant that you bought when you first came into the shop… You wanna know what it stands for?” Jaehyun hummed again. “It stands for immortality.” This time it was Jaehyun who was laughing, holding your body tighter to steady himself.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct #nct 127 #jaehyun fic #nct scenarious #nct imagines #nct fluff

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

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Bubble Wrapped - Part 2

Word Count: 4,247

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut, Please read the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes: Ok so here we go with Part 2. I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m trying to add some of the suggestions that I’ve gotten in. Please feel free to send me an idea if you have it and I will try and work it in. Also I would love your feedback on this, as well as tell me what players you want to see. With that Happy Reading!!!

As you made your way down the long hallway to Conference Room three, you realized that you didn’t pack enough flats for these next several weeks. If things were going to happen this fast you definitely needed to ditch the heels for a pair of running shoes instead. You couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong in this short amount of time. By your calculations, the Capitals should be in there now having dinner. The Pens were Conference Room one, two was being cleaned from when the Flyers were in there and then the Lightning would go in, and the Bruins should’ve been long out of three before the Caps even went in. Even though you had everything timed out to the minute with ample time in between, you knew things were bound to go wrong, but you didn’t expect to see your conference room in complete shambles.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked Alexis as you took in the room. Food was thrown everywhere. It was on the walls, on the floor, and on the plexiglass where your servers stood; it was even on the players, even though there were only a few of them in the room itself at the moment.

“Well, you see those guys there,” Alexis pointed to a table where David Pastrnak, Brad Marchand, and Charlie Coyle all sat. “They were still eating and I had the room cleaned just like you said, but let them go because the plane was late. I totally thought they’d be done before these guys showed up.” You looked over to where Tom Wilson, TJ Oshie, and Jakub Vrana sat, some green vegetable hanging off the shirt of Oshie. “They said it wouldn’t be a problem and I only left for a second, when I came back they were already throwing food at each other.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?”

“I sent them over to Conference Room one since it’d already been cleared out.”

“Alright, go make sure everything is fine with everyone else and I’ll handle this.” Alexis scurried out of the room, as you surveyed the damage. “Alright which one of you guys started this?” They all acted like you hadn’t said a word. It was seriously like dealing with a bunch of kindergarteners. You walked over to the Bruins table first. “It’s a little ironic is it not, that they call you Pasta?” you said picking noodles off of David Pastrnak, his shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter. Maybe you’d have luck with the Caps players. “What about you? You guys have anything to say?” When no one said anything, you had no choice but to say. “Look you know I can go to the league with this and you guys can be sent home.” While it was true that you could do this, you doubted a little good fight was going to get anyone sent back. “But I don’t want to do this, we’re only a few hours into this...guys, can’t we try and make this work?” They seemed to mull this over yet still no one said a word. “Fine, you and you,” you said pointing the Wilson and Pastrnak. “Come with me. The rest of you have five minutes to get to your rooms.”

“Why us?” Pasta asked.

“It’s obvious, you two started it.” They both seemed taken back by the statement, so you explained further. “You both have more food on you than anyone else.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Oshie muttered and you were barely able to contain the laughter that bubbled inside you.

“Now, I suggest you get going as your down to four minutes.”

“But I haven’t even got to eat yet,” Vrana whined.

“Call room service.” You then told a few of the staff to clean up the mess and close off the conference room until the morning, then turned to the two culprits that were picking food off themselves to the side. “Come with me.” They turned and followed you up to your suite, which had basically become your makeshift office. Once you were inside, you turned to both of them. “Now, tell me what this is about?”

“No way you have a pool table,” Wilson stated. God, men could be so simple-minded at times. They got so easily distracted.

“Yes, Tom, it’s a pool table. Now can we focus on the matter at hand?”

“I’ll play you? Whoever wins has to follow through with the bet.” Pasta immediately said, as if you weren’t even in the room.

You stuck your thumb and index finger in your mouth, squealing out a high-pitched whistle for the boys’ attention. They both turned in your direction then. “Now that I have your attention. You’re not here to play pool. You’re here to tell me what the hell happened in my conference room and how it will never happen again.”

“You know you’re even hotter when you’re angry.” All you could do was roll your eyes and cross your arms, at Wilson’s comment. He must have noticed your impatience, for he finally added. “Look it’s a stupid bet we had last season, that he didn’t follow through on when he lost, that’s what started the food fight.”

“I didn’t lose.” Pasta insisted. “I won, and you know it.”

“You did not.”

“Woah, stop!” You hollered as the two started to bicker back and forth. “Are you saying this can all be settled with a game of pool?”

“Yeah!” They both answered simultaneously.

“Perfect, then have at it.” You motioned to the pool table and Pasta headed in the direction only to be stopped by Tom’s arm.

“So, what’s in it for us?” He asked.

“I’m sorry what? I’m giving you the opportunity to solve your damn problem.” You fairly spat the words at him.

“Yeah, but you’re also getting something out of this. I’m just thinking that we could all get a little something out of this.” He looked over at Pasta, who seemed to catch on to his meaning.

“What exactly do you want? It’s not like I have a ton to offer, and don’t forget I can still turn you both into the league.”

“Nothing major, just a little kiss.” Why you were surprised when Tom suggested that, you weren’t entirely sure. Let’s face it, you knew they were stuck in this bubble without female companionship. Hell, you were in the same situation, well maybe not the same since you were surrounded by a bunch of hot NHLers. You just didn’t expect this so early in their quarantine here.

“Fine, but after this stupid bet is settled.” They nodded their agreement, then headed over to the pool table. You barely paid attention to the game, texting Alexis to make sure everything was running smoothly downstairs; which it was. It seemed that Pasta was stripes and Wilson was solids, and it definitely seemed like Pasta had the upper hand. When you finally gave your full attention over to the game, you couldn’t help but notice when Tom leaned over the table how nice his ass was. Both men were well-toned and muscular in all the right places and you knew it wouldn’t be a hardship kissing either of them or anything else for that matter. When David stretched out to make a shot, you noticed his tattoos and your fingers itched to trace them. To say you were getting hot and bothered by these two men was an understatement.

The game started to get intense as fewer and fewer balls were on the table. Pasta missed his shot, turning it over to Tom; who literally started to run the table. It was as if he couldn’t miss. Finally, he was down to just the eight ball. If he made the shot, he would win and the game would be over. He took a deep breath, the action making you take notice of how his shirt strained against the muscles of his chest. Lining the cue up, he took the shot, and the black ball sunk into the pocket just like he had called. A bark of laughter left Tom’s lips. “I told you I was the winner before. Pay up Pasta.”

You had to admit, you were curious how much money was on the line that would cause all this trouble. David, for his part, just shook his head and pulled out his phone. It must be a huge sum if he had to transfer it from his bank account. “What do you want me to tweet?”

“I’m sorry did you just say tweet, as in Twitter?”

“Yeah,” Tom said looking at you as if you were the one that was out of your mind and not him. This whole damn mess was over a stupid Twitter message. You literally wanted to scream, but instead, you just listened as Tom told David what to say. “All it has to say is, ‘In my opinion, Tom Wilson is the best goal scorer in the league.’”

“Done,” Pasta announced shoving the phone in Wilson’s face. You had to lean over Tom’s shoulder so that you could see it as well, for you still couldn’t believe your entire conference room was in shambles over something so juvenile.

“Well, now that, that’s settled boys, I assume I won’t have any more problems from the two of you in my hotel.”

“Oh, you still have your part of this bargain,” Tom said, gliding the back of his finger down your arm. You suppressed the shiver the sensation gave you.

“Alright, who’s first then.” You were never one to back down from a bet and this was no exception.

“By all means,” Tom motioned for Pasta to go first.

David took a step toward you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he pulled you close to him. Your hand pressed against the rock-hard muscles of his chest before making its way to the back of his neck. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, then placed his hand gently on your cheek to caress it before his lips came down on yours. The kiss was gentle, yet firm at the same time and you opened tentatively so that he could slide his tongue into your mouth. His hand which rested at your back pulled you in closer and you went willingly. You had a feeling if Tom wasn’t watching this would turn into something more than just a kiss. But Tom was watching and waiting, and you weren’t willing to give David anything more with an audience. So you gently broke away, allowing him to chase your lips with a few last kisses.

“You may have won the little pool match Wilson, but I doubt you’ll win anything more with this one here.” Why did everything have to be a competition?

You turned toward Tom, fully expecting him to take you in his arms and kiss you senseless. Instead, he grabbed you around the waist only to whisper low in your ear. “Another time princess, maybe when we don’t have eyes on us.” He released you then but then turned back. “I will be back for that kiss you owe me.” With that the two left your suite, leaving you a bit dazed and breathless, and longing for that kiss as well.

Shaking yourself, you brought yourself back to the present and what needed to be done at the hotel, instead of daydreaming of what kissing Tom Wilson would be like. A quick call to Alexis told you that all the players had eaten but there were still a few milling about in each of their designated workout areas. You slipped out of your business attire and opted for a comfy pair of leggings with an oversized shirt to make one more round through the hotel before calling it a night.

You ran into Carly in the lobby. “So how’d everything go on your end? Any outlandish requests for something to be brought in?”

“Not so far. I think the Pens want some extra gym equipment, but I’ve got it covered.”

“I knew I put the right woman in charge.”

“Speaking of being in charge? What the hell happened with Conference Room 3?” You rolled your eyes.

“Food fight.”

“Oh, I heard that. I also heard you took two of them to your room?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively before elbowing you in the ribs.

“Had to get everything straightened out.”

“And…”

“And maybe, I might have kissed one of them.” She gave you a mocked look of shock.

“Nothing else?”

“Not at the moment, though I do owe the other one something, and let me tell you I won’t mind paying off that debt at all.” Just the thought of Tom holding you had you hot and bothered. “And on that note, I’m going to finish up down here before calling it a night. I think Tim has the night shift tonight if anyone needs anything.”

“Yeah, he does. He’s back in the office, making sure things are ready for breakfast. I just told him I was done for the night. I’m heading off to bed, don’t have too much fun down here.”

“Me, what about you, Car? There’s not some hot NHLer waiting in your room?” She headed for the elevators but turned back to answer you.

“Not tonight, but tomorrow could be a whole other story.” With that, she was gone as the elevator doors slid open and shut again.

You headed off to make sure the conference rooms were fine. When you noted that everything was in place, you went to check on the workout rooms. They were supposed to be cleaned periodically throughout the day, but with being open twenty-four seven; you wanted to make sure housekeeping wasn’t slacking. A quick walk past the Capitals and Pens rooms showed that no one was in there and they were spotless. As you went into the Flyers' workout facility, you could see someone inside. You tried to cough discreetly as to not scare them, but they didn’t hear you. The room had a few mirrors around it, but he happened to not be looking in any of them as he was doing squats with some free weights. He had his shirt off and a tight pair of shorts on, that let you see every muscle as he crouched down working on his quads and other various leg muscles. A few droplets of sweat had formed on his body and you itched to dry them off for him. Your mouth went dry the longer you stared at him as you were trying to make out the tattoo on his arm. It was at that moment that he caught you staring, a knowing smiling crossing his face. “Sorry…” you stuttered out after being caught red-handed.

“I’m not.” He dropped the weight down on the bench beside where he was working out before grabbing a towel and wiping off the sweat on his body. “Did you come to use the equipment or did something else bring you here?”

“Something else,” you realized the mistake as soon as the words left your mouth. “I mean…I was…” In a few short steps, he was standing in front of you and suddenly you couldn’t quite remember why you were there.

“Something else works for me.” He leaned his hand against the wall behind your head; his body so close you could feel the heat coming off of it.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, as you didn’t need this man to get under your skin as much as he was. “I was just making sure everything was fine in this room. I didn’t mean to disrupt your workout. I’ll let you get back to it.”

You made a move to back out the door when he grabbed your hand. There was an electricity in his touch and had you both looking down to where his hand touched your body. “Don’t go…I mean, I was done…” It was nice to see he was just as flustered as you were for a moment. It put you both on an even playing ground after you’d been caught staring at him. “I’m Travis by the way, most people call me TK.”

“I know.” You replied, before adding. “Konecny from the Flyers.”

“Well, now you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m (Y/N). I manage the hotel.” You said almost extending your hand to shake his and then realizing that wasn’t acceptable at the moment.

“Oh, so you’re the one in my little handbook to call if I have any problems.”

“That’s me. Here to help you in any way I can.” You let the innuendo hang in the air a bit and you saw its meaning wasn’t lost on him.

“So if I told you there was a problem in my room, would you send maintenance to come look at it or would you do a thorough inspection yourself?” Oh, he was smooth, you had to admit that.

“Well, it wouldn’t make sense to call maintenance when I’m right here, now would it?”

A raise of his eyebrows was your answer back before he went over and grabbed his shirt and belongings. “Then I think we should definitely go check out that problem.” His hand went to the small of your back as he led you out of the room and to the elevators. “I’m in room…”

“Five-twenty,” you supplied.

“Should I feel special that you know that?”

“Do you want the honest answer?” He shook his head yes. “No, it’s my job to know who’s in what room. In case you haven’t noticed this whole thing is kind of a big deal. I have all my I’s dotted and my T’s crossed.”

“So you know every guys' room number here?”

“It sounds a little pathetic when you put it that way.” Maybe pathetic wasn’t the right word, but desperate was one you didn’t want to use.

“No, I’m actually impressed.” He tilted his head looking over at you as you pressed the number five in the elevator. “So if I asked you what room Brad Marchand was in you’d say?”

“That I can’t tell you that, but it’s in the teens and about three floors up from you.” He chuckled softly and you realized you liked the sound of his laugh.

The two of you walked in silence the rest of the way to his room. Thankfully, there weren’t any players milling about in the hallway. “This me.” He said when you were in front of his door. He fumbled with the key, then opened it.

“What seems to be the problem? TV not working? View not to your liking?” You teased and he caught on quickly.

“Actually, it’s the mattress. I swore I heard it squeak earlier.” He tossed his t-shirt and keys on the dresser.

You moved to the bed, pressing on the mattress. “Hmm, seems fine now.”

He grabbed at your waist then, pressing you close to his body. “But see, I’m a very active sleeper. You can’t get the full effect unless you’re on the bed.” He tossed you back onto the mattress and a giggle escaped your lips. Travis crawled on the mattress then, stalking his way up your body. “Didn’t seem to do it then either. I think we’re going to have to give it a thorough workout.”

“But of course, I mean I want you to be completely satisfied with our hotel service.” A half-smile appeared on his face for a split second before his lips were crashing down on yours. His lips were soft yet sure, and you opened immediately for him; his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with yours. He was a good kisser, that was your first thought, and you wouldn’t mind just doing this all night. But then he was pressing his hips into your body and realized you wanted more. Your hands glided up his back, feeling his slightly damp skin from his workout.

He finally broke the kiss, both of you needing air. His hands gathered your shirt, but then he stopped himself. “Can I?” You moaned out a yes, wanting as little clothing between your bodies as possible and he hauled you up so he could take the oversized shirt off. “This is pretty.” He commented, while lightly tracing the lace of your bra. “I think I’d like it better off though.” Travis hands worked around to your back unclasping your bra and toss it to the side. “Fuck, these are perfect,” he breathed out as he drank in the sight of your breasts. His mouth was on them then, taking a peaked nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. A moan left your mouth and you could feel yourself growing wet as he continued to lavish your breasts.

Snaking your hands around his neck, you drew him back down onto the mattress with you. He rolled you both onto your sides, his mouth coming back to yours so he could kiss you again. Neither of you was in a rush, as your hands ghosted along his chest and his played with your nipples. Time sort of stood still, as the two of you just laid there kissing slow and sensually. After a while, Travis pushed you back against the mattress, your legs on either side of his waist. He flexed his hips into your clothed core and you felt a rush of wetness between your spread legs. He continued to roll his hips into you, as his mouth alternated between your breasts. You lay there panting and moaning with each flex. “TK…” you finally breathed out. “Stop teasing.”

“Oh baby, you haven’t seen me tease yet.” As if to prove his words, he sat back on his legs and started to remove your leggings. He only rolled them halfway past your hips, then brought the waistband up before snapping it back down on your core. Heated flooded you there and the moan that left your mouth was almost obscene. “You like that?” and he repeated it one more time before stripping of you of both your panties and legging. “Fuck yeah you do. You’re soaking.” He didn’t have to even touch you to see how wet you were. He wasted no time, inserting two of his fingers in you as his mouth sucked on your clit. You about came off the bed. He continued to work his fingers in and out of your body as his tongue made kitten licks on your nub. You could feel your body tingle as the orgasm started to build. It hovered there, just beyond your reach and you threaded your hands in TK’s hair urging him on; only to have him stop.

“Travis…” you whined out.

His eyebrows shot up. “That’s teasing babe.” You groaned in frustration as his fingers left your pussy. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it better in a sec.” He pushed his shorts down his hips, then kicked them off. His mouth coming up to cover yours and you could taste yourself on his lips. With one smooth glide forward, his cock pushed into you; your hips rising up to meet him. “Fuck you feel good.” He moaned out, then started to pump in and out of your body. It was a slow pace at first as he was building up a rhythm for the both of you to follow. “Yeah babe, that’s it.” He praised as you met each of his thrusts. The combination of his teasing beforehand and steady pace, had you back on the edge in no time. Travis leaned in close to your body, your faces merely inches away. “Come on baby…I know you’re close….” He sped up then, his cock hitting that sweet spot perfectly. “That’s it.” You went to scream as a wave of pleasure washed over your body, but he captured your mouth swallowing the sound down as he came with you. He pumped inside you a few times, just reveling in the feel of your pussy clenching around him, before breaking the kiss so you both could breathe. When he was finally spent, he collapsed onto his side, rolling you with him. “That was…”

“Mmm, I agree.” You whispered back. “Though I don’t think your mattress has any problems.”

He laughed and you felt the vibrations in your body, as he held you close to him. “Who could tell with all your moaning.” He teased back then flicked your nose.

“Me? I wasn’t the only one.”

He shrugged a shoulder as if he didn’t want to admit he was just as loud as you. “Hope the walls are thick here.”

“They’re decent, just don’t give me away if Hart asks you any questions in the morning.”

He laughed out a, “never.” You pecked him on the lips, then started to get out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“Things or other people?” You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing or jealous.

“Things… but you have my number if the mattress suddenly starts squeaking again.” You gave him a wink as you shimmied on your leggings and threw on your shirt.

He grabbed your hand and brought you down so your face was inches from him. “I have a feeling it may act up again.” His lips were on yours kissing you hard and fast.

“I’ll be waiting for your call.” With that you headed out the door, quietly shutting it before walking down to the elevator. Well, day one was definitely interesting. You couldn’t wait to see what day number two would bring.

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years ago

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The new Shadowhunter Academy (Fan Fic) - Chapter 1

In the mood for a bit of Shadowhunter Academy drama so there goes chap 1 of my new fic (it's part of my "To never being parted series" though it can be read as a standalone story).

Ao3 link here.

*****

This is how I die, Ash thought. He was surprised by how indifferent he was to the news. He had always imagined he would have more fighting in him.

If he were honest, it was not such a bad place to die. Green grass had started to grow again in the lands of Faerie, where there had only been wasteland and death before. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Ash was exactly what he had been named after. Ash, the symbol of rebirth, his blood fertilizing the land and giving way to lush vegetation and the chirping of birds. Through his blurred vision, he could see Jace lying a few feet away, unconscious. He held on to the steady rise of his chest that told him he was still alive. But barely.

Ash coughed up blood in the already drenched soil. He tried to lift himself up, but the muscles in his arms were failing him and the slightest move equalled to excruciating pain. He felt as if all the bones in his body had been crushed into small pieces that were piercing through his organs.

He thought about the girl he had met in the weapons room, the girl in the drawing. Drusilla Blackthorn. There had been loneliness in her blue-green eyes, yet there had also been a fierce will to live despite everything. A hope beyond despair. You and I are the same, he told her in his mind. We witness the worst horrors, suffer the most intense grief, but keep our chins up and stand ready to fight to live another day. We do not give up.

Ash craned his neck sluggishly to get a better look at his opponent.

The new King of both Seelie and Unseelie Courts, a Herondale no less, who looked more like a Californian surfer boy with his tousled blond hair and unforgiving bright blue eyes, was standing before him, hands curled into fists against his hips, his white wings tipped with gold rustling behind him. He was glorious, an angel of death, and Ash idly wondered how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.

“Stand. Now. There is no fun in striking someone lying on the ground,” the King said, his blue eyes rolling in a very unkingly manner. Even his voice was not that of a monster. It was a nice, clear voice, that sounded like it belonged to a sweet boy. Ash knew, though, that he was anything but. He needed to distract him, to play for time.

“All these faeries that you have massacred,” Ash managed to utter through the blood in his throat. He flinched at the pain that the mere act of talking caused him. “And you call yourself their ruler… I don’t understand. Why this… bloodbath? What did they do to you?”

“What did they do to me? What did they do to me?” If the King’s face bore any expression at all, it would be pure hatred and contempt. “How about what did they do to my mother? And her parents, and their parents before that? Did they really think I would never find out, stay in the dark forever? Remain a blind and helpless mundane my whole life? I see them every single night in my dreams, you know… I am haunted by the cries and howls of my ancestors. Always running, always hiding, never allowed to rest, never allowed to live. No more. I crushed the faeries who stood in my way as if they were cockroaches under my shoe. If there was still such a thing as Shadowhunters, I would have them suffer the same fate, if not worse, for they have betrayed my bloodline just as much.”

As the Herondale King talked, Ash slowly moved his hand to clutch the folded paper inside the left pocket of his jacket. The psychopathic witch that had grown so fond of him – Annabel, the mere thought of her still sent shivers down his spine – had at least taught him one useful thing. How to get out of this hell hole.

He held on tight to the drawing in his bloody fingers. If he focused enough on creating an interdimensional Portal to her… Surely, he would go back to where he came from himself. The drawing had probably been made with material found in Thule, but the artist… the artist was from the other world. Maybe it could work. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance he and Jace had.

My blood, willingly given. He had lost enough blood as it was, but it had certainly not been willingly given. Trying to grab his sword, which was lying a few feet away, would draw too much attention. A deep paper cut could work. That’s how potent his blood was. He brought the paper to the palm of his hand and sliced through the skin, murmuring the incantation.

As the Portal started shimmering before him, Ash heaved a sigh of relief, causing a sting in his lungs. That was the first step. Now, how the hell would he find the strength to haul himself and Jace through it, without being stopped by the Faerie King?

“Wow, you will have to teach me how to do that,” the Herondale King said, showing for the first time a flicker of emotion. “I mean, I probably have enough power for that – Aren’t you like a cheap knockoff of me?”

Ash was spared to give an answer as the King whipped around at the sound of swords being drawn out behind him. The Riders of Mannan. There were only five of them left.

“You again?” The King rolled his eyes. “Ever thought of a retirement plan? Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?”

One of the Riders shrieked. “You killed two of our brothers. It has become personal. We will never acknowledge you as our new King. So that leaves us with only one option.”

“Yep, got it. You pick option B. Getting your decrepit asses kicked by me, myself and I.”

The Faerie King advanced with a casual stride on the five Riders, drawing two longswords that he immediately started twirling as if they were cheerleaders’ batons.

This was Ash’s chance.

He crawled to Jace, grabbing their two swords - Heosphorus and Phaesphorus - on his way. Pulling on a strength he didn’t know he still had, he finally managed to stand, ignoring the ache in his limbs – he had known torture and pain had become a familiar companion – and hauled Jace’s body up and they both stepped through the Portal, with only two swords and a folded bloodstained paper as their interdimensional trip’s luggage. He let himself be transported in between worlds, drained and already fainting from the strained effort.

When he came to, he was lying on a sand beach, the sun barely peeking out from the horizon, casting a reddish glow on the sea. He inhaled deeply the clean and salty air, like a treat to his lungs, so pure compared to the one in Thule. He turned his head to find Jace’s limp body a few feet away. If only he had been taught how to draw the Angel’s Runes his uncle had told him about. The ones that could heal the wounds and ease the pain.

He heard voices and started to drag Jace’s battered body behind a nearby rock, breathing heavily as he did. The fresh air and the sound of the soft push-pull of the ocean made him feel better already.

He peered around to see three figures approaching.

He instantly recognized the girl. Drusilla. She looked a little bit older than he remembered but she had the same thick and luscious dark brown hair and freckled milky skin. She was wearing her pyjamas, black fabric with a pattern of white skulls. She was laughing carelessly, throwing her head back, and it made Ash smile, his zygomatic muscles almost aching as they awakened from their deep slumber. They hadn’t been put to such use in a while. She was holding the hand of a younger boy with rumpled hair of the exact same colour. Their eyes shared the same singular summer-blue shade. Probably her little brother. He seemed to be around ten years old, but Ash wasn’t very good at guessing age.

The third person was a very tall boy, with hair as black as a crow’s feathers, walking along the water’s edge. Ash couldn’t see his face because he was looking away, toward the sea. There was something fragile, almost poetic, in the graceful curve of his neck and the delicate line of his jaw. Something hypnotising about the careful yet purposeful way he moved his long limbs. Ash almost felt disappointed he could not see the face of the person they belonged to.

“Tavvy!” Drusilla cried out as the younger boy released her hand to run to the edge of a tide pool.

He picked something in the water and held it up in triumph.

“Starfish,” he yelled, hopping up and down excitedly. “I have found a starfish!”

Tavvy ran, though not in the direction of his sister, but of the older dark-haired boy.

The tall boy held out his hand and the younger one put the starfish gingerly into the other’s palm.

“Pisaster ochraceus, also known as the purple or ochre sea star,” the mysterious boy said, after a single, swift glance at the starfish. He had a deep, raspy voice.

“It’s beautiful! Please! Please! Can I dry it and keep it in my bedroom at the Institute? I could have it framed, and maybe even painted by Jules!”

“It’s a keystone species that controls mussel populations. It was nearly wiped out by the sea star wasting syndrome. In other words… Waste of a perfectly good starfish,” the voice of the graceful boy caught at his last words and he trailed off, his head still turned toward the sea, almost as if he was no longer talking to Tavvy. He lifted his free hand absently to grasp a shiny object - a silver pendant? - resting on his chest.

The three Shadowhunters snapped their heads in the opposite direction from where Ash was hiding, when a fourth person called. A blond-haired girl – probably a Shadowhunter as well, though she had pointy ears - was coming down the beach wearing slippers, an apron tied around her slender body.

“Breakfast is ready! I have managed not to burn the whole stack of pancakes this time.”

Ash heard his stomach growl. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Probably days. But much sharper than the pain caused by hunger or even by the battle wounds, he felt longing… Longing for a normal life, in a normal happy family. What would he not give for carefree strolls on the beach in the dawn, surrounded by loved ones, followed by something as simple as a breakfast of – even burnt he didn’t mind – pancakes?

The landscape swirled and changed into the dark, dirty and moisty walls of a cell. He was so thirsty, so hungry, and so cold. Two Unseelie guards were staring at him through the bars, with a smirk on their narrow faces.

“We are here to bring you to your bedroom. Yes, you will get a bedroom. How fancy is that? The King just wanted to make sure you knew it was in your best interest to fully cooperate. From now on, and for as long as you behave, you will benefit from the most luxurious accommodation befitting to your royal lineage.” Ash – the younger, clueless version of him – found he did not care for a fancy room. He had known the most decadent living conditions and the worst. Knowing the full spectrum, he had realized nothing really mattered but a place to call home. Mom, where are you when I need you the most?

The door rattled and one of the guards came in.

“You have a pretty face, skinny boy,” he said, as he opened Ash’s bloody shackles. “When we will have cleaned you up, maybe you and I could have a little fun.”

Ash spat on the rude intruder.

The faerie was about to slap him when the other guard grabbed his wrist.

“Careful… He is the Seelie Queen’s son. You can’t take liberties with him as you can with other regular prisoners.”

“He may be of royal blood, but his father Sebastian Morgenstern died leaving us alone to bear the consequences of his mad plans, to suffer the Cold Peace. The traitor is the reason why the Fair Folk are treated as if they are less than nothing.”

A wave of pure hatred – that he had not felt at the time, having never met his father – woke Ash up from his dreams, his whole body drenched in sweat. He almost sighed in relief as he realized he was in his wide bedroom, in the house in the hollow hill.

There was a pain in his stomach, different from the one caused by hunger. He immediately ran to his bathroom and retched above the sink. There had been no time to run to the toilet. He opened the tap and splashed water over his face. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he noticed there were dark circles under his eyes and that his features, although smooth and ageless as all faeries’ were, bore the permanent mark of having seen too much horror, suffered too much pain, loneliness, and sorrow before he had even reached adulthood. He swiftly schooled them into the mask he wore in public. He had become good at that.

****

“Riders of Mannan, tremble!” Mina cried out as she burst into the kitchen and started running around the table on her little legs, brandishing her Cortana baby-sized wooden replica. Her dark hair was now long enough that she could wear them in two tiny braids. It was Kit’s job, and Mina loved to barge into his room at ungodly hours with a hairbrush to jump up and down on his bed until he had performed his daily task. So much for privacy.

“Oh no, here comes Emma Carstairs!” Kit raised an empty pan from the stove to use it as a shield. “Quick, run! Or she will end us all!”

“Nooooo, Kit-Kat” Mina paused to strike a dramatic pose and rolled her eyes. “You are not a Rider.”

“No? What am I today?” He asked, putting down the pan.

“My fiancéééé!”

“Ooooh.” Kit drew himself to his full height, putting on a very serious don’t-mess-with-mine-and-I-won’t-mess-with-you face and brushed his hand through his hair in a mock nervous gesture. “Beware Riders, I will strike you with my wits, if not my crossbow.”

“No. Not Julian. I have changed my mind. I want to marry Tiberius Blackthorn!” She said and shook both her hands in front of her the way she always did when she was very excited about something.

“Oh. Oh. Well don’t tell Julian that, I am not sure he will appreciate the swap.”

“Do Tiberius! Do Tiberius!” Mina exclaimed, hopping up and down. Kit knelt in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. “Do him, please!” Mina whined.

“Sure, Min. I will imitate Tiberius but please stop shouting that,” Kit said, feeling heat rush up his entire face.

“Yeaaay! Do him!”

“SHHHHhhh,” Kit said, putting a finger on her pouty lips. “Understood, Min-Min. I will play Ty’s part.”

Their parents were in the room next door and though both knew that he and Ty were a thing now, Kit had obviously not gone into detail as to the physical part of their relationship. He expected that they would simply guess and leave it at that.

He had a vivid memory of the time he had been cornered to sit through the “sex talk.” Tessa and Jem had made some Earl Grey tea and scones for the occasion and had taken the opportunity during one of Mina’s naps, to go through the whole process of explaining to Kit that it was the most natural thing in the world and that he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable raising any questions he had on the subject. Kit had dutifully listened, his head bent and his ears red, slouched in the middle of the couch, fingers knotting and unknotting where they rested on his lap. As the awkward conversation had gone on and on, he had disappeared little by little into the plump cushions, wishing he could vanish entirely inside the furniture.

Jem had been the old-fashioned gentleman, talking about “mutual respect” and “the shared responsibility of contraception and adequate protection”, but had been clearly as red faced as Kit, while Tessa had been the modern mom, freely and animatedly speaking about “exploring one’s sexuality” and “ignoring peer pressure and imaginary standards”.

When Jem had started listing all the STDs he had encountered in his life as a Silent Brother, Kit had secretly hoped there was poison in the tea. Dropping dead in the middle of the living room would have made for an adequate diversion. Fortunately, Tessa had silenced Jem with a glare.

In the back of his mind, Kit had wondered if Ty had gone through the same ordeal. He had imagined scary-overprotective Julian discussing sexual intercourse and condoms and had suddenly been profoundly relieved that – where Kit was concerned – the task had befallen to Tessa and Jem.

Kit had to admit, they employed the same thoroughness and dedication in everything they taught him. With Jem, Kit had learnt how to fight, how to heal wounds, how to waltz and – though that part still required a lot of training to get over his bad habits – how to behave like a gentleman. Tessa had taught Kit how to drive, how to cook and how to uncover and harness his First Heir powers. Both his parents had given him history lessons and they were the reason why he now knew how to speak five languages. He had read more books since he had joined their home than throughout the rest of his previous life. While Johnny Rook had taught Kit how to pick locks and steal pockets, Tessa and Jem had taught him trust and boundless generosity.

Truth be told, they were the best parents he could ever have dreamt of. He had the best family he could ever dream of, he thought, watching Mina’s big dark eyes widening as her gaze caught the plate of homemade chocolate cookies.

“Oooh you baked cookies! Can I have one Kit-Kat? Pleeeeeease?” Thank God for her short attention span.

“You already had a croissant this morning, Mina. You can have a cookie tomorrow. Remember, us Shadowhunters must eat healthily.”

Mina raised her eyebrow at him, in a way that reminded him of his boyfriend. Kit slipped a cookie in her tiny fingers.

“One. And remember how generous I was when I am sent away to sugar-addicts rehab and I beg you for one last shot of candy for the road.”

Mina nodded. He loved the way she always acted as if she understood his ramblings.

“Kit?” Tessa called as she entered the kitchen, waving her phone. “It’s Jace. He tells me you’ve been dodging his calls.”

“I am not here,” Kit mouthed.

“He told me you would say that. So, he wants you to know he still has this picture of you from last Christmas and he will not hesitate to send it to a certain dark-haired Centurion if you don’t take the call.”

Kit shot out his hand, palm up, and Tessa handed over her phone.

“This is blackmail.” Kit tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he swept the plate of cookies away from sight.

“Never said I was above blackmail. Just make sure it’ll work if you are ever to use it.”

“Is it another one of your cardinal rules and guidelines to being a proper Herondale? I am pretty sure half of them are made up.”

“They’re not.”

“They are,” Tessa mouthed, grimacing, as she whisked Mina away from the kitchen.

“So, here’s the thing. I usually act as a guest lecturer at the Academy, you know, for basic stuff. Learning how to jump and fall properly, balance in swordfight, choice of weapon… I was scheduled for next week, but Clary decided to plan her art gallery opening at the same time. So, I was looking for the best person to fill my shoes and of course immediately thought… who else than Kit?”

“Liar. I know you asked Emma first. What’s her excuse?”

“She sprained her ankle during training two days ago.”

“She posted a video of herself dancing in a nightclub with Cristina and Mark. That was yesterday.”

“This girl sure knows how to put on a brave face.”

“She was doing backflips in front of a cheering crowd.”

“Like I said, brave face. So, you’re in?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not really, but I thought it would be nicer if I asked.”

“Whatever.” Kit grumbled.

“Great. You won’t regret it. I will even buy you dinner in Manhattan while you’re in New York. Fancy restaurant with amazing desserts.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Jace Herondale?”

“Just lie down and let me do the rest.”

“WHAT?”

“Sorry, not talking to you. I’m in the middle of a training session. We’re stretching. Have you trained this morning?”

“It’s 2 PM here, Jace. I’m on my break. I already trained for six hours, starting at the crack of dawn.”

“You put us all to shame.”

“So, I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“I was not finished.”

“Raziel, what else is there?”

“The Scholomance is sending a Centurion to represent them and provide a two-days training course for the Academy’s senior students who wish to apply to join them after they graduate.”

“Oh,” Kit said, with a familiar flutter around his stomach. “Do you…” He swallowed. “Do they already know who they will send?”

“Probably that Joshi guy. But it’s not set in stone. Jia Penhallow told me they have been trying to convince their best Centurion to go for months now, but he keeps saying no.”

“Oh, so he gets to say no.”

“I told her Herondales can’t resist a challenge...”

“You didn’t.”

“… and that I had a secret weapon to convince him to go this time.”

“You mean me.”

“Use your body!”

“WHAT?”

“Not talking to you, sorry. Beatriz, use your whole body’s strength, not just the muscles in your arms!”

“Thank the Angel.”

“What was I saying?”

“You were using me to try to convince Tiberius Blackthorn – who absolutely loathes talking in public, by the way – to give a two-days training course at the Academy for Scholomance applicants. Jace, I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t want him to feel obligated in any way, just because…”

“… just because you let him play with your sword?” Jace offered.

“God, Jace. I am going to pretend you never said that.”

“Make us proud.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too. Gotta go. Catch up later.”

“Jace,” Kit groaned in frustration, but Jace had already hung up.

Tagging @gabtapia <3

#the dark artifices #the wicked powers #kit and ty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herongraystairs #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #jace herondale #jem carstairs #tessa gray #mina carstairs #tsc fan fiction #cassandraclare #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles

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twokinkybeans · 4 years ago

Text

Company Chapter 3: Imbolc

Moodboard made by Kim <3

Peter and Oberon find warmth with each other. Another Fae has different plans.

Warnings for this chapter: Fluff, smut and angst, magic and folklore, mischief, masturbation, anal (fingering), hand job, rather vanilla sex tbh? it’s full of love, then regrets and a scene that could be compared to how victims respond after rape (and the next chapter that will release on Ostara will likely contain actual dub-/noncon so please continue with care), Mysterio is here to fuck shit up.

Go to the Masterpost for all the teaser poems and chapters! Read Company - Chapter 3: Imbolc on AO3 —————————————————————————————- Here it is! Chapter 3! The next one will be posted on Ostara, March 21st. Thank you for reading it, if you do! I hope you enjoy!!! <3 - Lien

...

The Fae haunts Peter. His thoughts, his dreams- both day and night. Oberon’s smile and intense gaze follow Peter through life. He catches himself yearning to hear the man’s laughter, to feel his fingers curl in Peter’s neck as he did when he took off Peter’s coat. Sometimes, Peter imagines how he would whisper, laying next to him in bed. How his soft lips and stubble would contrast themselves on the shell of Peter’s ear. He can only guess the words the Fae would tell him, but part of him wonders what his name would sound like from Oberon’s tongue. “Peter…” The young man gasps as he shakily thrusts up into his hand, spilling over his lower abdomen. His muscles tense and his lips part to let out a strained noise in a half-assed attempt to hold back his ecstatic experience. Wave upon wave of pleasure floods over him until his body and member slack. Peter pants, eyes closed, and whispers the Fae’s name in reply to his imagination. “Oberon-” Peter knows he shouldn’t be thinking of Oberon like this. The more he gives in to his growing infatuation with the Fae, the more likely he is to slip up and give himself to the man fully. He can’t help the small voice in the back of his head, wondering how bad it would be to spend eternity with Oberon. Would it be bad at all?

… When Imbolc finally arrived, Peter took the first train to the woods. Maybe he’s a little eager, but he simply can’t wait to see Oberon again. He scrolls through his phone, smiling at some silly photos of May he took last week and setting one as his lock screen. She’s alive again because of the Fae- because of Oberon. And all the man wants is company. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, Peter thinks. If it’s company he wants, it’s company he’ll get. With the snow gone, Peter more confidently finds his way through the woods. He’s still not exactly sure where to go, but at least the direction he’s taking feels like it makes more sense. “Oberon?” Peter uses his hands to help his voice carry further. “You here?” “Why, aren’t you cute.” Peter’s back straightens and he turns, startled, at the voice behind him. A man with slightly longer, pushed back, dirty blond hair grins down at him from a large branch. His short, trimmed beard enunciates his jawline and he has large eyes, almost comically so. They glow dim, just like Oberon’s. Fae. Bad news. Peter swallows and presses his lips on top of each other, breathing in through his nose. “Says a strange man sitting in a tree by himself in the middle of the woods,” he replies calm and collected. The Fae chuckles darkly, causing a shiver to run down Peter’s spine. The man hops off the branch and lands effortlessly. “Hmm,” the Fae hums. “If it is strange I am here in the woods by myself, then why is it not odd you are here?” “I’m looking for someone,” Peter answers earnestly. “A friend who goes by Oberon.” Suddenly, Peter’s blood seems to freeze, locking him in place as the Fae stalks closer until he is right in front of Peter. He looks down, locking Peter’s eyes with his. The Fae grins and leans in, nearly letting their noses touch. “You may call me Oberon, then.” The man’s breath is cold on Peter’s face and the young man blinks in an attempt to fight a sudden drowsiness that washes over him. “I’ll be your friend.” The Fae’s gaze holds him in place and momentarily, Peter wonders if the beauty of the being’s bright blue eyes are the cause of this sleepiness. He is using magic on Peter and only now does it become painfully obvious what Oberon could have done to him from the start, but never did. “I don’t think I should-” As quickly as the Fae got hold of him, he lets Peter go again. He looks to his side cautiously and when Peter blinks, the Fae is gone. “Puck,” a familiar voice speaks. Immediately, a smile grows on Peter’s face. He pivots and the Fae seems surprised by how Peter beams. “Oberon, hey!” Peter holds himself back. Part of him wants to fall into the Fae’s embrace straight away, but as much as his feelings for the man have rooted and grown, he’s not sure Oberon has gone through the same. “Who were you talking to?” Oberon inquires curiously. Peter cocks his head and frowns. With an uncertain pout, he looks around him. “Nobody- eh, myself, I guess? I tend to do that.” … “What’s that?” Oberon creeps over Peter’s shoulder, staring at the device in Peter’s hand. The young man is seated on the soft pillows of Oberon’s cabin. Peter grins. “With my aunt back at work, she started making money again.” He holds up his phone to proudly show it to Oberon. “She gave me this phone for Christmas!” The Fae frowns slightly and shuffles to sit down next to Peter, who sucks in a breath at how close the man is to him. “Phone…” Oberon repeats, lost in thought. “It looks fragile.” “Well,” Peter chuckles. “I wouldn’t throw or toss it. I don’t want it to break- these things are expensive.” “Huh.” Oberon cocks an eyebrow. There’s a curious glimmer in his eyes as he stares at Peter’s fingers caressing the screen. “May I… May I see it?” “You are seeing it, aren’t you?” Peter smirks. Oberon scoffs and gestures at the phone. “From up close, please?” “Since you asked so nicely,” Peter says theatrically, wanting to hand Oberon the device. However, he quickly pulls back. “There’s metal in this.” “I can handle it, remember?” Oberon says with an encouraging nod. “I am Iron Man.” “Right- right,” Peter chuckles at the silly nickname and passes the phone to the Fae. The man turns and twists it in his hands, studying it intently. His eyes squeeze to slits in an attempt to look into the charger hole. “Press the button on the screen,” Peter instructs. Oberon looks up at him confused, but does as told. The screen lights up and a photo of Peter and May together appears. Oberon gasps in awe. “Who is that?” “M-“ Peter stops himself, nearly saying her name. “My aunt.” “The one I helped?” Peter nods. “She seems nice.” “She’s the nicest.” “Not I?” Oberon jokes, causing Peter to scoff a soft laugh. “Don’t make me choose.” Oberon perks up at that, eyes wide and glimmering, mouth open in a wide smile. “So, you think I am nice?” “I- I don’t mind spending time with you.” Peter looks away into the fire, blushing profusely and silently swearing at himself for feeling it crawl up to his ears. Oberon stays quiet, but Peter can practically hear him grinning. The Fae settles flush next to him as they both stare at the flames. “I think you are nice too,” Oberon speaks softly. He slowly raises his hand to give the phone back to Peter. Instead of taking it, Peter curls his fingers around Oberon’s and presses the home screen again. Oberon seems surprised by Peter’s actions, but watches intrigued as Peter swipes up, opening the camera without unlocking his phone. Oberon gasps when he is met with his own moving image on screen. “It is a mirror?” Oberon moves the phone closer to his face with Peter’s hands still on top of his. “A camera.” “For… Photos?” The Fae looks at Peter with a cocked head. The young man smiles and nods. “Correct,” he replies with a posh accent. “And videos too. Here-” Peter takes the phone out of Oberon’s hands and angles it so they are both in shot. His thumb hovers over the button on screen. “Cheese!” Right as Peter presses the button, Oberon turns to him with a frown. “Cheese?” Click. “What does that have to do with pictures?” Peter snorts and looks down at his phone to open his album. Oberon’s captured face is pricelessly confused, but Peter understands where it came from. “I- I’m not actually sure,” Peter chuckles. “I think it has to do with the word itself? Like, you kind of smile when you say it?” “I smile when I say cheese because it reminds me of its lovely taste.” Only then Oberon notices the photo on Peter’s screen. “Oh, that one is not particularly flattering,” he deadpans as he leans in to look at himself. “Can we tear it?” “Let’s not rip up my phone.” Peter smiles. “I’ll delete it.” “Just because I cannot lie, does not mean I cannot tell when others do,” Oberon says smugly. Peter hides his phone, but his eyes shimmer mischievously. “We could also just try again?” “Yes, let’s do that,” Peter says, already promising to himself that that photo will be his home screen. Peter unlocks his phone and raises his arm to angle it right again. His breath hitches when he feels Oberon press himself against Peter, to fit in the frame better. The Fae’s breath is warm in his neck and Peter nearly forgets what they were doing. He smiles awkwardly, but it turns into a genuine laugh when Oberon pokes his side slightly and exclaims: “CHEESE!” … “So, which one of these are edible?” Peter asks as he pulls at the leaves of a bush, nodding at the berries resting at the base of the twigs. “For starters, that one leads to an eternal nap, so I would advise against it,” Oberon states dryly. Peter immediately lets go of the plant and stands up straight again. They had decided, since Peter can’t actually eat food that Oberon offers him, to go foraging. That way, Peter can collect his own food. It’s been around five hours since Peter had arrived at the cottage and their conversations were as interesting and comfortable as they could be. Peter really loves his time with Oberon. “How about that one?” Peter sheepishly points at another bush with darker berries. Oberon smirks and saunters towards it, taking exactly one berry off of it and tossing it into his mouth. He chews and swallows. “Good pick.” He picks another few berries and eats them. Peter can only stare at Oberon’s bobbing Adam’s apple. After a few bites, Oberon cocks an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Puck? The berries are safe.” Peter blinks and steps towards the bush, but Oberon doesn’t move. Instead, he moves to angle a branch so that the berries are easier to pick for Peter. The young man fills his hand with berries and gratefully pulls his arm back from the bush. Two got squashed in his greedy attempt to fit as many as possible in his hands, but they still look edible. Peter takes his free hand and tastes a single piece. It’s a little sour, but incredibly tasty. He immediately perks up and tosses another three in his mouth, not noticing Oberon’s intense stare on him. Peter’s next bite is a little too eager. To prevent the berry from falling out, he clenches his teeth. However, the berry wasn’t in Peter’s mouth all the way, so it squashes and starts dripping down his chin. “Shit-” Peter exclaims as he makes a cup of his hands to catch the juice dripping down. “Here,” Oberon says quickly. “Allow me-” The Fae raises his hand and steps closer until their breaths mingle. Peter can’t move as Oberon’s thumb finds his jaw and wipes away the juice. He looks up at the man with big eyes, jaw slacked as his mind races. Oberon, seemingly reluctantly, takes his hand back but Peter stops him by dropping the berries he still had to the ground and grabbing hold of the Fae’s wrist. His mouth is dry, regardless of the juicy fruit he just ate. He feels like he’s not breathing, but judging by the fact that he can feel his heart thump in his head and that he sees his chest rising and falling rapidly from his peripheral vision, he’s still taking in oxygen. “Puck?” Oberon whispers. “Are you-” “I think there’s still some left on my lips,” Peter replies breathlessly. It is a bold move, but one he was definitely willing to make after so many more hours of talking and getting to know the man better. “My hands are already sticky.” Oberon licks his lips, eyes strained on Peter’s plump ones. Peter absentmindedly mimics Oberon’s actions. “Only one way to get rid of it then…” Oberon scoffs softly at Peter’s directness. The corner of his mouth curls up as he leans in, closing his eyes. Peter’s and Oberon’s noses brush together and Peter can’t help but close his eyes as well, relishing in the feeling of Oberon’s heat flush against him and his breath mingling with the Fae’s. He gasps softly when he feels a tongue flick against his lips, but the Fae remains distanced in a way that drives Peter mad with want. “I can only imagine how sweet you would taste,” Oberon mutters. “Don’t imagine anymore…” Peter’s order soon turns into a plea. “Please.” “Since when are you so loose? So relaxed? Why would you let me steal a kiss from y-” Peter lets out a strained noise at Oberon’s indecision on what to do, now knowing damn well the Fae wants exactly the same Peter wants. He boldly leans in, immediately opening his mouth so Oberon can push his surprised moan into him. Where Peter took initiative, Oberon now takes the lead. Peter lets himself be guided into the kiss, letting go of Oberon’s hand, so it can find its way into Peter’s hair. After a little bit, Peter pulls back slightly and scoffs a quiet laugh, still not opening his eyes. “Maybe your spells are finally working.” … The door to Oberon’s cabin gets blown wide open as he and Peter are glued to each other, breathing rapidly and tugging at their clothes. The Fae lifts Peter effortlessly, kicks the door shut and pushes the young man up against it. His hips grind into Peter’s crotch and the human whimpers at the friction against his clothed cock. “O-Oberon-” he begs. “More- more, please-” The Fae immediately moves his lips to Peter’s neck to suckle on it. He grins against Peter’s skin when a certain spot has Peter buck his hips involuntarily. Oberon sucks at it a little harsher, drawing the most delicious sounds from Peter. “More-” “I will give you all- everything- all of it.” Oberon’s mutters are nearly incoherent as he ravishes down Peter’s neck, pulling at the hoodie until he can reach Peter’s collar bone. He grazes his teeth past it and pushes his hips up against Peter’s crotch again. “Yes, yes, please-” Oberon carries Peter over to the pillow pile on the floor and sits down with Peter still on top of him. The young man’s eyes flutter open to stare straight into Oberon’s. They glow brighter than they did before. Peter immediately pushes in to kiss him again, rolling his hips into Oberon’s and moaning with every sting of stimulation on his aching clothed cock. The Fae pushes his hips up invitingly as he pulls his head back to take off his shirt. Peter stares, nearly drools, at the beautifully toned chest. “Your turn,” Oberon chuckles darkly. Peter follows the Fae’s lead and undresses his upper body. When Peter’s head is hidden in his dress shirt as he awkwardly pulls it over his head, there’s a sudden intense, wet suckle on his left nipple. “A-ah!” Peter exclaims, twitching under Oberon’s attention. The Fae’s large hands keep Peter in place. He wants to get rid of his shirt asap, but now that he can’t see, the sensations of Oberon’s tongue circling his sensitive bud are all the more overwhelming. When he’s free, Peter throws the shirt away from him and moves his hands into Oberon’s hair to anchor himself. The roll of his hips into Oberon’s crotch is steady now, but both men are ready for more. Peter feels like he’s floating as the Fae turns them both around until he’s pinning Peter on the floor. He rubs their clothed crotches together and all Peter can do is take whatever is given him. “Can I-” Oberon gasps as he sucks possessive marks on Peter’s chest. “M-May I-” “Fuck me-” Peter orders. “Please, I need you-” “Oh, Dandelion,” Oberon moans, tugging at Peter’s pants. “Sweet Chamomile, Bluebell, Primrose…” Each flower nickname is paired with a kiss or a mark or the scraping of teeth over Peter’s skin. His head spins and his eyes roll back as he tries to buck up into Oberon. He can’t close his mouth anymore. All he can do is gasp and moan and attempt to catch Oberon’s lips with his before the Fae moves back to ravish Peter’s neck again. “Clover, Columbine, Sunflower-” When all clothes have been discarded and both men are grinding into each other naked, Oberon’s voice rumbles through the cottage. “Puck-” Peter smiles at how much that particular name takes him out of it. “Parker.” Oberon freezes at Peter’s last name. He pulls back, wide-eyed until he can look at Peter properly. Both of them pant, hips still gently rolling into each other as a soft reminder they’re still going. “What?” The Fae whispers. “Puck isn’t a sexy name, is it,” Peter chuckles, bringing his hands up to trace patterns on his chest with his index finger. He gasps quietly when he brushes past his nipples. “You already know my last name…” Peter half-closes his eyes and licks his lips in an attempt to seduce Oberon to continue. “Use it.” “Parker…” The word gently falls from Oberon’s lips and Peter can feel that same tug at his heart as he did last time. It feels amazing. “Parker,” Oberon repeats, seemingly feeling pleasure from simply saying it as well. “Parker-Parker-Parker-“ Sparks seem to fly from Oberon’s eyes and he growls, moving in to eat Peter up again. Peter is unsure what is happening, but it feels absolutely heavenly. Is it Fae magic? Oberon isn’t in pain, like he said he would be if he broke his promise, so it’s not Oberon using magic directly on him. Maybe Peter feels the unwritten rules of the Fae; rules no one can go around. Not even promises. Oberon might not have Peter’s full name, but through this, part of Peter wonders if he is already bound to him. In all honesty, he couldn’t even mind it if he tried. It feels too good. The sensation is everything; an overwhelming pleasure that makes Peter yearn for more. Earlier, Peter wondered if it would be bad to be bound. But if it feels like this, he is certain that it’s not bad at all. Not with someone as sweet and caring and loving and giving as Oberon. Peter gets brought back to reality by Oberon snapping his finger. The young man blinks dreamily and smiles up at the Fae. “Are you with me?” Oberon checks and Peter nods. “Feels so good-” The Fae grins but it soon fades when Peter cheekily cocks an eyebrow. “However, I do believe I told you to fuck me,” Peter says cheekily. Oberon scoffs a laugh and leans back until he’s up straight again. “Proof of autonomy, right there,” he chuckles as he brings one hand down to circle Peter’s hole. Peter immediately pushes down and lets out a soft whine. “Make me yours-” he gasps. Oberon licks one long stripe from Peter’s right nipple over his collar bone, up to his neck and jaw. “You already are, my flower.” Oberon’s voice is dark and Peter can’t help a high pitched sigh escape his throat. “Are you alright with Oberon?” Peter double checks. “From your lips, always,” the Fae smirks, still teasing around Peter’s entrance. “Anything else, my king?” Peter jokes, referencing the fact that the character is king of the Fae. Oberon freezes at that, causing Peter to open his eyes. “Too much?” Peter ponders out loud. Oberon licks his lips and swallows, seemingly regaining his composure. The Fae then pushes in without warning, curling his finger. Peter’s surprised the glide comes so easily. Like he is already lubed up. Magic, he guesses. He doesn’t really want to think more of it and the ecstasy already makes him forget what just happened. When Peter’s body complies and follows without protest, it doesn’t take long for a second finger to be added. And then a third. Peter is fucking himself on Oberon’s fingers while the man searches for the spot that will make Peter scream. Soon enough, he finds it. Though, after brushing past it once and earning the most delectable noise from Peter, he pulls his fingers back. Before Peter can whine about the lack of touch, the fingers are replaced by Oberon’s stiff cock. “Wasps-” Peter chuckles at the characteristic swear coming from the Fae. “You’re so tight, Parker. So tight.” Oberon bottoms out and stops moving, allowing Peter to get adjusted to the Fae’s girth. Peter, however, is so ready to be fucked, he doesn’t really want to wait anymore. He reaches his, up until now jelly and motionless, arms up until his fingers wrap around Oberon’s shoulders. He then starts pulling and smiles when Oberon lets himself be guided. The Fae’s eyes are closed, like he’s trying to concentrate. It makes him a lot more compliant, which Peter uses to his advantage. Peter keeps pulling and turning until Oberon is laying down and Peter is sitting on top of him. The young man’s hands rest on the Fae’s chest. “Your turn,” Peter whispers, repeating what Oberon said earlier, as he leans down to obscenely lick at Oberon’s perched nipples. He wets them up nicely and moves back enough so his index fingers and thumbs get enough space to start rolling the nipples between them. Oberon chokes back a moan. His entire body is tense. It’s only now that Peter notices Oberon’s arms are spread, fists clenched and… Is that magic in his closed palms? “Are you alright?” Peter inquires. Oberon nods, simply and aggressively. “Holding back-” he chokes out. “What are you holding back?” Peter’s question is paired with a first, slow and gentle roll of his hips. Oberon sucks in a breath and Peter stares curiously at the sparks, brightening in the Fae’s hands. “Magic. My- m-” “Is that magic dangerous to me?” Something about that question thrilled Peter. The only thing that actually frightens him right now is the idea Oberon might want to stop. And also the fact that he may or may not have fallen in love with the man below him. “No,” Oberon groans. “J-Just magic-” he pauses to react to Peter slowly lifting himself up his cock, only to lower himself again and slightly wiggle his hips when he bottoms out. Peter’s curiosity grows by the second, just as his need to get both Oberon and himself off. “What kind?” The words roll off Peter’s tongue, low and alluring. “Illusions- I think I- I can make them be illusions.” Peter isn’t sure what Oberon means with that exactly, but the reply surely piqued his interest. He picks up the pace riding the Fae, reveling in how Oberon falls apart below him. The magic in Oberon’s hands intensifies and it is now Peter’s sole mission to have the man let go for him. Peter leans in and kisses Oberon on the lips, so soft and gentle. “Oberon,” Peter whispers as he sits up straight again, slowly but surely turning his rolling into bouncing. “Open your eyes.” The Fae obeys and moans at the sight of Peter’s body on top of him. In a reflex, the man starts fucking up into Peter in tune with Peter’s bouncing. “O-oh, yes!” Peter exclaims. “I- I wanna see it, Oberon. Y-your magic. Let it out-“ Oberon’s eyes roll back as he loses tension in his fingers. Blues and purples shoot from his hands, surrounding the two lovers with an endless galaxy. Peter gasps surprised, staring at the infinity around them. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. When he looks down at Oberon again, whose eyes still glow and flicker, he notices even the ground has turned to stars below them. He grins as he picks up the pace again. “Never thought I’d get to fuck in space,” he chuckles, riding Oberon feverishly. “Or y’know, get fucked by a Fae.” “You,” Oberon sighs with a smile. “You talk too much.” Now that Oberon doesn’t have to hold anything back anymore, he quickly turns them around like they were before. His hands, still sparking with magic, cup Peter’s cheeks and he brings them together in a hungry kiss. He has once again taken the lead and is now thrusting into Peter, chasing his high. One hand swiftly finds its way down between them. Peter moans into Oberon’s mouth when the Fae’s fingers curl around his shaft to pump him at the same pace as Oberon’s hips move against him. They’re wet and sticky with magic lube and precum and the sounds their crashing bodies make are downright porn-worthy. “Parkeeer…” The Fae groans. “O-Oberon,” Peter replies breathlessly. Their pace is relentless now, bodies tensed and nearing release. “Stark,” the Fae says, causing Peter’s eyes to shoot open when he feels another tug at his heart. The Fae looks down at him with a panting half-smile. “If I get to call you Parker, you get to call me Stark.” Last names. Peter’s entire body shakes and trembles as the edge is ever so close. He’s on fire, surrounded by moons and stars and milky ways and Oberon- Stark, right there with him, above him, making him see even more stars. “S-Stark-” he whispers. Around him, the scene intensifies and Oberon’s eyes glow even brighter. “Yes, that’s it, my sweet, my flower, my Parker-” Peter squeezes his eyes shut. “So close-” Peter isn’t sure if Oberon means himself or Peter, but either way, he’s right. “Wanna cum,” he gasps, biting into Oberon’s lower lip slightly. “Go on then, show me your beauty,” Oberon encourages, moving to sit up a little straighter and parting their faces from each other. Peter instinctively tries to move up along with Oberon, so he can keep their lips locked, but Oberon pushes him back down. The Fae’s thrusts are more calculated now, angled exactly where Peter needs him to go. His last free hand shifts to gently roll Peter’s balls while his other still pumps the young man’s shaft feverishly. “Stark!” Peter’s body thrashes and he cums, spilling himself all over Oberon’s hand and his own belly. He clenches down on the Fae’s cock and smiles deliriously when he milks Stark, the feeling of his insides being coated white adding another surge of pride and pleasure to his high. “Oh, flower,” Stark sighs, nearly dropping himself on top of Peter. “You were so good, so sweet.” Peter’s eyes are already closed, Oberon’s cock still sheathed inside of him. “Hmm…” Stark/Oberon shifts until they are both laying on their sides, bodies still flush together. “Will you sleep for me tonight?” Peter nods absentmindedly, still grinning ear to ear and basking in the afterglow. The smile brightens slightly when he feels Oberon’s lips press a soft kiss on his nose. “I will be here in the morning. Take your rest. I’ll hold you.” Peter drifts to sleep to the soft humming of the Fae’s voice. Not bad, he thinks before losing himself to slumber. Not bad at all. … A chilly breeze hits Peter’s face. His lips curl up and he turns, feeling around for Oberon. For Stark. His smile fades when the haze of just waking up fades and he notices just how cold the room actually is. His hand ends up on the cool flooring. Oberon isn’t there. Peter opens his eyes and sucks in some air when he notices there is snow. Inside. He quickly moves to sit upright, pulling the blankets up to keep himself warm, and he looks around. Oberon sits by the opened door, hands folded together in front of his mouth. He’s hunched up and his expression is stern. Tight. Worry settles in Peter’s stomach. “O-Oberon?” He isn’t sure if he should be saying the Fae’s actual name now. Oberon doesn’t look up. “Get dressed.” “Is something wrong?” Peter’s browns curl together. “Get. Dressed.” Peter remains seated, frozen in place and at a loss for words. When Peter still doesn’t move, Oberon finally turns his face to stare Peter down. “Do as you’re told.” “Excuse me?” The young man’s eyes go wide with surprise. Who does this man think he is? “You’re leaving,” Oberon says with a shaky voice. “Now.” He looks away again. “Get dressed.” The world around Peter collapses. Everything they had been through together, everything that had happened… Is over? “I don’t understand-” “Do not make me get over there and force you.” Peter immediately stands and grabs his clothes, feeling his tears threatening to spill. The only word going through is head right now is why. Why would Oberon do this? Why is he suddenly so different? Why does Peter have to leave so suddenly? Why is this happening? Once Peter is dressed, he grabs his phone from where it’s resting against a pillow. The screen doesn’t light up. Great; his new phone is dead too. He stares at his reflection in the dark screen. His cheeks are red and his eyes puffed. He blinks and then the tears fall. “Puck.” Peter gasps and looks up at the Fae who now stands. An odd glow now radiates from the middle of his chest. The man’s expression is pained, like he’s holding back. “You are no longer indebted to me. You are to go home and forget about us. Do not come back to these woods. Ever.” “You,” Peter pushes out through gritted teeth, his sadness slowly making place for anger. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Oberon doesn’t speak. The only response Peter gets to his accusation is the twitch over Oberon’s upper lip. “You manipulated me enough to have sex with me and now you’re dropping me.” The Fae looks away and takes hold of the door, gesturing to outside. “Leave,” Oberon orders. “Please.” Peter is confused at how the Fae’s voice cracks, as if he actually cares about Peter. “Unbelievable,” the young man breathes. “I can’t believe I fell for this. For you!” “LEAVE!” The Fae’s aggression reverbs through the cottage, making it even colder than it already was. Peter’s jaw trembles as his tears now freely glide down his cheeks. Peter runs. Past the pots and pans at the cooking area, past the herbs hanging from the ceiling, past Oberon, through the door. The second he sets foot outside, he hears the door being thrown shut, but when he turns around he finds the cabin has disappeared entirely. It’s gone. And now Peter is alone in the woods. He shakes violently, dropping to his knees and sobbing. Part of him hopes that wherever Oberon is, that he can hear him wail. … When Peter arrives home, he plugs in his phone and heads to the shower. He feverishly washes himself, scrubbing his body and hating how he can still feel the Fae’s touch lingering on his skin. He wants it gone. Wants the Fae gone. He sobs under the stream, knowing damn well that he will never be able to get rid of the sensation of disgust. After an hour of letting his tears disappear in the drain, he turns off the tap, broken and drained- empty and dulled. He drops himself on his bed and simply lays there. He won’t be able to sleep anyways. … Peter is startled back to reality by his buzzing phone. The alarm he had set for the morning after Oberon went off, now that the battery was fully charged again. He swallows and grabs his phone, snoozing his alarm. He wants to put the phone away, but notices something is off. He unlocks it and the notification that caught his guard now fully pops up. Recording ended due to empty battery. Confused, yet curious, Peter opens his album to check which recording the notification meant. He blinks a few times when he spots the right one. Two hours and forty-two minutes. When did that happen? He selects it and starts the recording, not entirely unsurprised to be met by Oberon’s face, extremely close to the camera. The sight stings him. “Oh, this is a video right?” Oberon’s voice asks from the phone’s speakers. “Right. Well, hello, future Puck, I am going to show you something.” The Fae turns the camera to show a peacefully sleeping Peter. The camera moves closer to Peter and he can hear a bit of shuffling. He guesses Oberon went to lay down next to Peter. “Do you see your face?” Oberon’s voice is toned down and soft, now that he’s so close to Peter’s sleeping form. Peter watches what Oberon means, already feeling the tears sting in his eyes again. “You wear no mask now…” A hand appears from the corner of the screen to move a few of Peter’s curls out of the way. His fingers caress Peter’s cheek, causing an unwelcome shiver to run down Peter’s real spine. “You are at peace like this. So wonderful, so beautiful…” The Fae sighs content. “I could watch you like this for hours, you know?” “I know.” Peter is startled to hear himself talk in the video. In his sleep. Oberon chuckles. “Oh, do you?” “Mhm.” “Tell me, Puck, what is your favorite season?” “Spring.” “Well, aren’t you lucky that’s right around the corner.” Peter wants to throw his phone to the other side of the room. Oberon is having a conversation with him that he doesn’t remember having. Because he was asleep. It makes him feel uneasy and wonder what else the Fae asked him. “Think you can do some math right now? That ought to be fun to make you try.” The Peter in the video doesn’t reply, so Oberon simply continues. “Puck, what is two plus two?” “Four,” Peter replies promptly. “Easy.” “Alright how about twenty-one times forty-eight?” It’s quiet for a few seconds, but Peter replies still. “One thousand and eight.” “I honestly would not know how to check if it is correct, but I would surely assume you are correct.” Oberon asks Peter some more insignificant questions before falling silent again, simply looking at Peter. It seems he forgot he was filming Peter as the phone is quickly put away in a standing position. Peter guesses this was the spot he found his phone in, looking out over the entire cottage. Peter scrolls ahead in the video, not wanting to watch Oberon play with Peter’s hair for one and a half hours. Peter plays the video at normal speed again when he spots Oberon standing up. He shuffles around the room and speaks softly. “I will be out back to collect some more berries. Will you be alright, my love?” The name is a punch in the gut for Peter and he pulls at his hair. He doesn’t know why he’s still watching, but part of him wonders if whatever made Oberon change his mind like that so suddenly has been caught on camera. “Be fine,” Peter in the video mumbles bluntly. “Love you, bye.” A wide, surprised smile spreads on Oberon’s face and he walks out, mumbling something to himself. Again, nothing happens for half an hour, when suddenly… “Here you are…” A familiar voice speaks. A stranger saunters into Oberon’s cottage. Peter feels like he’s seen him somewhere before, but he can’t recall where. His eyes glow blue, like Oberon’s and when he reaches Peter, he squats down. “Didn’t expect someone as delectable as you to spend time with our heir.” Heir…? Peter’s skin crawls when the man’s hand traces down his bare body, curiously lifting the blankets and grinning wide at his findings. Peter instinctively clutches his sheets, covering himself more. He feels even more disgusted now. “Oh, aren’t you spent…” His eyes darken and his smirk turns ever so evil. “Used.” “Was so good,” the Peter in the video says. The man perks up surprised. “You speak in your slumber?” “Mm…” “Oh, what a nice turn of events…” The man’s hand cups Peter’s face. “Does the prince know your name?” Prince- “No- yes. A little.” “A little? How does that work?” “Last name.” “Oh, like so. Well then, sweet thing, what is your last name?” “Parker.” Peter feels the tug at his heart again. No, is all he can think. Don’t say more. “And then, if you’ll indulge me… What is your first name?” “Your voice is silenced in eclipse, no more words fall from your lips-” Oberon rushes in and reaches his hand forward at Peter, quieting him immediately. The second the spell has settled on Peter, Oberon’s eyes widen and he freezes before he collapses clutching his chest and letting out an agonized groan. Peter stirs, but the other Fae waves his hand once. “Do not wake ‘til morning comes, Parker, I have plans for you.” The man turns back to Oberon and scoffs a laugh. “I can spell him all I want, I have no promises to break. Unlike you, cousin.” Oberon gasps as he trembles, the area where he clutched his chest now glows blue like his eyes. Like Peter had seen the morning after. Oberon broke his promise and now had to deal with the consequences- the pain. He broke his promise; to protect Peter. “Why are you here,” Oberon seethes. “Why, I was quite intrigued to find this beautiful specimen in the woods yesterday. Searching for Oberon. I suppose that is you?” The man laughs condescendingly. “And you are not even king yet.” He turns back to Peter. “Pathetic… You didn’t even take his name.” “Step away from him.” “I will not. You have not claimed him, so I will.” “Mysterio-“ Oberon threatens, squaring up. His hands turn to ice like they had done when he almost spelled Flash. Snow is brought through the opened door by a wind Oberon conjures up. “Leave Puck alone.” “Oh!” Mysterio exclaims. “You call him Puck? And he calls you Oberon. How disgustingly sweet.” His expression drops. “I’m going to hurl.” “He’s not yours to take, leave us!” The snow in the cottage thickens as Oberon’s skin pales more with anger and cold magic. “Iron Man, do not tell me you love him.” Oberon’s jaw tightens at Mysterio’s condescending tone. “Oh, you love him.” Mysterio confirms to himself. “Well, then I’ll certainly enjoy taking him for myself.” “I will not let you!” Peter doesn’t understand why Oberon doesn’t just force the man out of his home. “You will, cousin.” Mysterio stands upright and circles Peter like a hawk, waiting for the right moment to take his prey. “For if you do not, I will tell all of Winter Court of the human you bedded. The human you want. The human you did not trick. The human who is not yours, for you do not have his name.” “You would not,” Oberon breathes. “All the Fae will come for him then. I won’t be able to protect him.” “That is what you are worried about?” Mysterio scoffs. “Not that your father will revoke your title and pass the throne to me for your dishonorable and disappointing behavior?” “I do not want to be a king like my father. The title means nothing to me.” “Then why not pass it to me?” “And leave you in charge of all of Winter Court? I’d rather eat my own two feet.” “Rude, much,” Mysterio says faux-offended. “Tell you what. I’m giving you one chance to redeem yourself.” “What will you have me do.” “Claim him.” “No,” Oberon immediately counters, taking two steps forward. Desperation seeps off every word. “No, please, do not make me do this.” “You choose, Oberon,” Mysterio taunts. “You either take his name and keep your honor, or you will lose your title to me and all of Winter Court will be scouring these woods to use him the way you would not.” He cocks his head and grins. “And I will be first in line. Your boy will certainly look lovely at my feet, having no choice but to worship me for all eternity.” “You disgust me,” Oberon seethes. Though, his magic loses power as his shoulders start hanging. “And you me, cousin.” Mysterio then steps over Peter’s body as he casually makes his way to the door, past Oberon. He places his hand on Oberon’s shoulder and pats twice. “Make our court proud.” Mysterio then leaves Oberon and Peter alone in the cottage- in the cold. Oberon’s sad eyes find Peter’s figure and after a minute of visibly holding in his tears he manages to shuffle towards Peter. A soft sob escapes his throat as he lays down next to Peter again, fixing his hair where Mysterio had undone it. The new light emitting from Oberon’s chest now lights up both of their faces. The Fae waves his hand over Peter’s face to undo the spell he had put on him. He then sniffs and the Peter watching the video cries along with him. “Oh, Puck, my flower,” Oberon mumbles through his tears. “I do not wish to lose you. I want to keep you.” “Keep me,” sleeping Peter replies softly. Oberon swallows and closes his eyes. “I can’t.” “Keep me,” Peter repeats. “No.” Oberon is sobbing quietly now. His shoulders shake with every intake of breath. “No.” The Fae presses his lips together and swallows. “I love you too much to keep you.” “Love you too, bye.” Oberon can’t help but scoff a quiet laugh through his tears. Peter is still asleep. Whatever he says is steered on by his subconscious. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but Peter can’t get himself to stop the video. He watches as all possible emotions in existence pass over Oberon’s face. “Puck,” Oberon asks suddenly. Peter holds his breath, anticipating the question. “What is your name?” Peter stares breathlessly at the screen, but when the Peter in the video opens his mouth to speak, Oberon swiftly covers it. “No. No, I do not want it.” He averts his gaze. “I should not have asked to begin with, I am sorry.” “It’s okay,” sleeping Peter answers, probably only responding to the I am sorry part, not actually aware of what it was attached to. “It is not.” It’s quiet again for a little bit. Peter notices the video is almost at its end. He wonders if anything else will be said before his phone’s battery died. In the last thirty seconds, Oberon speaks once more. “I have decided to let you go, flower.” Oberon’s words are shaky. “You deserve your freedom more than I deserve anything else.” Peter is sobbing now, so painfully aware of the things he had accused Oberon of when he left the cottage. “You will never see me again after this, so I want- I want you to have this… To have mine.” Peter frowns through his tears. His…? His what? “My name…” Peter’s eyes widen and he sits up straight in his bed. Is Oberon giving him the one thing they would never share? “My name is-” Peter stares at a black screen as the video and audio cut right when Oberon was about to say his name. After five solid minutes of being frozen in place, something in his mind finally clicks. He has to go back. Back to the woods, back to Oberon. Stat. Straight away. Pronto. Immediately. Now. … Peter runs as fast as his legs can carry him. The ground in the woods is treacherous and uneven, but he can’t get himself to slow down. The wind cuts the skin on his face and his quick breath condenses in front of his mouth. “OBERON!” His screams carry far. “OBERON, COME TO ME!” He nearly trips, causing him to stop running altogether. “OBERON, PLEASE!” he cries out. “PLEASE!” Peter wants to protect Oberon the way he had protected May. Mysterio hadn’t given Oberon this third option; to let Peter leave. It was a risk Oberon had taken in an attempt to go around Mysterio’s threat, since in both, Peter’s freedom would be taken. The Fae was presented with two choices: claim the name or don’t and suffer the consequences. Thing is, Oberon did not claim Peter’s name. That means Mysterio will still tell all of Winter Court about Peter. Oberon will lose the throne and be shunned from his people forever. That is why Peter is here. Oberon has to take his name. He simply has to. And now, Peter is more than ready to give it to him. The Fae had sent Peter away to protect him from being taken, but there is nothing he wants more right now then to be taken. By no one other than- “OBERON!” It’s no use. Peter has been walking for hours now, searching the woods for any sign of the Fae. Or any Fae for that matter. He assumes they would’ve already found him by now, but they are nowhere to be seen. He unlocks his phone and swears when he realizes what day it is. The human world and the Fae world are parallel to each other and they only really mingle on the actual Pagan celebrations. It’s no longer Imbolc. The veil is back. Peter couldn’t find any fairy circles or other signs of passage to their realm in his desperate attempt to locate Oberon, which means there is no way he can find the Fae before the next time Oberon and he were supposed to meet. Ostara. March 21st. Defeated, Peter falls to his knees on the forest floor, clutching his phone against his chest and crying without tears. He had none left. Peter inwardly has to tell himself that he is going to have to go home… And that he is about to face the longest one and half months of his life…

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oliviaischillin1204 · 5 years ago

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t2eb, day 20: “hysterical”

[this is actually lowkey p intense and kinda references tickling as ACTUAL torture, so be warned (it’s all consensual tho, don’t even worry about that) also i was largely inspired by this post by @fluffymary, specfically the part about Roman, so i’ve linked that for your viewing pleasure :3]

Roman had no idea how long it had been. At least a couple hours, if he had to guess, but his capacity for logical thinking like that was severely lacking at the moment.

“Fuhuhuhuhuck! I cahahahahahahan’t!”

He’d been craving something recently. Something deeper than the fun, gentle games he normally played with the other sides.

“Nohohohoho, ihihit tihihihihihickles!”

And he’d thought about asking one of them to help him, but something was holding him back. Not fear of their judgement, or the worry that they would take it too far.

“Wahahahahahait, wahahahahait!”

In all honesty, he was afraid they wouldn’t take it far enough.

“Ahahahahahahahaha!”

Roman had wanted to be pushed to his limit, past his limit, even. He wanted to be tickled until he reached his breaking point, and then he wanted to be tickled some more. He wanted it to be torture; really, truly torture. He wanted it so much.

And so here he was. The Imagination was a wonderful tool for the creative aspect to wield. It had allowed him to bring so many fantasies to life, so really, what was one more?

He hadn’t even had to verbalize what he wanted: as soon as he entered the space, he found himself spread eagle on his back, his wrists and ankles bound, stretching him taut and leaving him immobile.

There had been just a moment of hesitation as he tried to visualize how this was going to happen, but less than a second after he was tied down, two gloved hands were floating above him. Roman knew they were sentient enough to keep him guessing, but still under his control to the point that they would automatically stop the instant he wanted them to.

That knowledge made him feel a little less scared about the whole thing, so with that, Roman nodded, and the tickles had begun.

That was then. This is now.

By this point, Roman was a flushed, sweaty mess. His hair was completely ruined, his clothes had been pulled this way and that from his constant thrashing, and his voice was almost gone from the nearly-ceaseless screams he’d been releasing at the waves after waves of assaulting tickles.

As if it hadn’t been bad enough already, the feeling of the hands hovering at his elbows made Roman gasp. He knew what was coming, and he was torn between exhilirated anticipation and outright fear.

“N- no, nohoho,” he whimpered, his nervous smile returning as he craned his head to watch the hands begin tracing down his forearms. They slowly and softly wiggled their fingers, making sure to just barely graze the skin as they made their descent to somewhere much, much more ticklish.

Roman tried to watch both of them at the same time, but it was impossible. His eyes flicked between them, waiting with bated breath to see which one would act first.

He inhaled one last time. “Please-”

Both hands dove into his armpits simultaneously, and Roman screamed, tossing his head back and forth. For a couple of magical disembodied hands, they were expert ticklers, one drawing teasing spirals into the center of his pit, the other scribbling all five fingers at random against the soft skin.

Roman writhed, throwing his body back and forth as his peals of laughter burst out of him. He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he cried out in ecstasy. So of course, the hands chose that moment of distraction to change it up: they both began drilling their thumbs into the deepest part of his pits at the exact same time.

Roman jerked his body so hard at the sensations, he actually managed to dislodge one of the hands from his underarm, sending it flying out in front of him. He curled his elbows as close to himself as his bonds would allow, shaking his head as he wheezed through his frantic giggles.

“Nahahahaha- nahahat thehehere, please!”

The hands froze, and for a moment Roman was worried something had gone wrong; he didn’t actually want them to stop yet, they were programmed not to stop until Roman truly wanted them to, so why-?

His thoughts were shut off as the hand he’d thrown off snapped its fingers, and he was suddenly aware of something binding around his chest. And his elbows. And his knees and his pelvis and his forehead.

Another second passed. He wiggled his body. Nothing. He tried again, straining against the new restraints. He couldn’t move a muscle.

Roman felt his breath quickening. He’d never been bound so thoroughly before. He couldn’t even raise his head from the table, couldn’t watch the hands anymore. He was totally at their mercy. They could do anything to him.

The realization made a spike of fear curl pleasantly in his stomach. His eyes flicked back and forth, catching a glimpse as the hand floated upwards towards his face, hovering just on the edge of his peripheral vision.

The hand trailed one gentle finger along his jawline, and Roman squealed at the electrifying tingly sensation. Then the hand patted his cheek once, like it was patronizing Roman, before it flew away out of his line of sight.

And right on cue, the two hands returned to their previous tasks, with the added restraints making the sensations feel even more tickly than before.

“Ahahahahahahaha- nahahahahahaha- ohohoh my Gohohohohod!”

His peals of laughter had barely started anew before he heard one of the hands snap its fingers again.

And then he felt the hands everywhere, on practically every inch of his defenseless body.

One scratched underneath his chin and all over his neck, torturing Roman with the realization that the strap around his head kept him from protecting his neck at all. Occasionally it dipped around to flutter at his bright red ears, swirling a finger around the shell before returning to tease underneath his jaw.

Two were at his hips, alternating between pinching the bones and scribbling at that sensitive strip of skin right above his pantline.

Another two were stationed where his waistline met his side, ruthlessly tasering that soft little divot and making Roman howl, torso jerking uselessly against the sensations.

There were several on his ribs, he assumed, because he could feel way too many fingers crawling up and down his rib cage, each one taking the time to wiggle deeply in between each crevices, sometimes teaming up to massage a particularly sensitive bone all the way around.

Only one hand was at his stomach, but one was all that was necessary: its thumb was tucked securely into his belly button, vibrating the special spot with care, while the other four fingers all made sure to scratch and squeeze as much of his pudgy tummy as they could reach.

Four hands worked on his knees with an accuracy that would be impressive, were it not so awful: two pinching that one particular tickle spot right above his kneecaps, and two using their nails to trace designs on the undersides of his knees. Roman hadn’t even realized how much he wanted to move his legs until now, where the restraint managed to keep his knee perfectly still while somehow not covering an inch of ticklish skin.

He couldn’t even picture how many hands must be on his feet- there were way too many fingers, all fighting to dig into his arches and scratch at the balls of his feet and work their way underneath and in between every single one of his poor toes.

And, of course, there were the hands at Roman’s pits, his most favorite yet most hated tickle spot. It was his instant death spot, and everyone knew it- all anyone had to do to beat him in a tickle fight was to go for his pits. But in those times, he could always fight back, or get his attackers before they got him, or at the very least beg for mercy.

He had no mercy here. The hands were in tuned to his innermost desires, and they still hadn’t stopped. Roman didn’t think it could get any worse.

Until.

Until he felt two hands grazing somewhere new, somewhere he hadn’t even been touched yet. Somewhere soft, and delicate, and so, so sensitive. Somewhere so ticklish it made the rest of the constant tickling feel like background noise in Roman’s mind.

Because suddenly there were two hands at his thighs, fingers pressed right against that oh-so-special tendon where his legs met his pelvis.

Roman had the blink of an eye to process this development.

And then the hands squeezed. And Roman broke.

It was like all of the other sensations had just been the buildup to this, or maybe it was more like by distracting his nerves at all of his other tickle spots, the sensitivity of his thighs was growing more and more, just waiting until he was right at the edge of insanity to push him over.

Spots appeared in his vision as his laughter went silent immediately. Everything else was gone. All he could feel was that awful, awful pinching at the most ticklish spot on his entire body. No one had ever tickled him there before. He was completely unprepared for the unfathomably unbearable sensation. Over and over and over again, the two hands rhythmically and incessantly squeezing each of his thighs in unison. Roman strained against his bonds, desperate to do anything to shake those hands from that spot, but with restraints at both his knees and his pelvis, there was absolutely no escape from the tickles.

Well, there was one escape, Roman knew. The instant he truly wanted the hands to stop, they would.

But they kept going. And they kept going. And they kept going.

Squeeze, pinch, squeeze, pinch, squeeze.

Roman couldn’t breathe. Tears were streaking down his face. His entire body was contracting and spasming against the immobilizing bondage. He shrieked, but no noise came out- his voice had nothing left to give.

And the hands kept going.

The last thought that passed through Roman’s head, before he fully lost himself to this most wonderful torture, was that maybe the hands would never stop. Maybe he would spend the rest of his life here. Maybe he would lose himself to these sensations, and he would never come back. Only time would tell.

After all, this is exactly what he wanted.

#my posts #my writing #t2eb #tickletober day 20 #lee!roman #intense #sanders sides tickling #in case it's unclear:#the hands didn't stop bc roman is a VERY desperate little lee who was genuinely craving to be pushed nearly to insanity #i didn't want anyone to worry that i've literally doomed roman to death by tickle torture #the hands will stop. i promise!#... eventually #;)#mm what else... shout out to sensey for a) being the inspo for this piece #and b) being a huge supporter of p much all of my writing #and also c) being just a cool talented person in general #also PEEP! HOW! LONG! THIS! GOT!#KAJSHDJAKAJ NO WONDER IT'S SO HARD FOR ME TO FINISH THESE WHEN I KEEP MAKING THEM LIKE 1K WORDS #i imagine the rest will be much shorter from now on bc my writing brain is nearly fried lol #god look how much im rambling in these tags #w/e it's like 2:30 AM lol i'm chilling #anyways love u mwah

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vintage-story-time · 4 years ago

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Step-Father's Sins by Unknown

Chapter 7

Marlene had tongue kissed with a lot of guys, but she could never remember any kiss feeling as good as that first one with her sister.

When the kiss was over the little girl with the light brown hair could feel her nipples making little bumps in the front of her nightgown.

"Let's go over to the bed so we can be more comfortable," Melinda suggested, also amazed at how-horny she was getting.

Melinda had been thinking a lot about having sex with other girls but had been bothered by her urge.

She didn't know any lesbians, and she could not come up with a subtle way to let girls know that she was horny.

She figured that there were probably other girls in Rushdale who felt the way she did, but she couldn't think of a way to figure out who they were.

"Okie-dokie!" Marlene said excitedly. "I can feel my pussy getting all tingly just thinking about it."

"That's good, Marlene. Guys love it when you talk dirty to them. They love to hear to word fuck coming from a pretty mouth, if you know where I am coming from," Melinda said, leading Marlene by the hand to her bed.

"I don't care right now about what boys like. I want to know what you like," Marlene said.

The smaller girl licked her full, pouting lips sensuously, her green eyes beginning to twinkle and burn at the same time with her rising libido.

"I like it when you talk dirty too, sweetheart. Take off that thing. I want to caress every square inch of your body," Melinda said.

Marlene made a sexy purring sound deep in her throat and stretched her neck in her best feline manner.

Marlene caught herself before she grinned proudly — not knowing that she was capable of making such a sensuous sound.

The little virgin reached down to the bottom of her nightie and pulled it quickly over her head, and watched with wide eyes as Melinda also got naked.

They had both seen each other naked many times.

But it had been like this before.

Everything had changed!

Nothing was the same — even the room looked different.

All was surreal now that the sisters were to be.

They fell into each other's arms as they fell onto the bed, and their breasts were pressed flat together.

The loving sisters found that they could kiss with their nipples and their mouths at the same time.

They rubbed the lengths of their torsos together, each feeling their cunt flesh approaching full engorgement.

Each could feel their pussies getting wet and slippery with the secretion of their thick juices.

They each yearned to taste the other's natural lubrication.

But Melinda did not expect Marlene to give her pleasure until she had been taught the proper methods.

And the black haired girl, being by far the more experienced, knew that she would play the role of teacher.

Of course, Melinda had never eaten a cunt before — although there had been many times when she was masturbating that she wished she could munch at her own box.

Melinda rolled so that Marlene was on her back and she was directly on top of her, licking her neck.

Melinda blew lightly into Marlene's ear, and then explored the inside of that ear with a wet tongue.

Marlene could feel the little hairs at the nape of her neck standing on end with that shivering sensation.

Her entire body was covered with a thick layer of gooseflesh as her inner ear was caressed sensuously.

She trembled like a leaf for a moment and heard herself let out a deep groan of incestuous passion.

"You have to be very quiet. Imagine the shit-fit that Bernard would throw if he knew we were doing this," Melinda said.

The risk of getting caught made Marlene's heart start to pump, but her fear did not stifle her lust.

She was discovering her latent sense of adventure, and was aroused by the aura of danger around the act.

Melinda kissed Marlene's tits.

She licked the nipples.

She sucked those erections.

She nipped at the hard rosebuds with her pearly white teeth!

Marlene could tell that she was going to have to use all of the willpower she could possibly muster.

Her craving was to scream bloody murder with the intense sensations Melinda's mouth was giving her.

Her mouth fell gaping open and her eyes closed tightly as Melinda nipped her hot feminine erections!

She could feel her face turning so hot she wouldn't have been surprised if steam had risen from it.

The light haired virgin assumed correctly that her face was turning as red as a fire engine from her lust.

She could feel her jaw ache as it was forced open as far as it could go — but she couldn't close her mouth.

It didn't take Marlene more than a few seconds to realize the advantage of being held by another person.

The pure teenager could tell right away that being touched was a thousand times better than touching herself.

She could tell by the intensity of the pressure in her loins that the come Melinda would give her would be enormous.

She could tell that it was going to make the climax she had given herself earlier in the evening seem like grammar school stuff.

Marlene wanted to talk to her sister and tell her how good everything felt, but she decided against it.

She got the feeling that there was no way she could speak in a low voice with her cunt drooling profusely.

The scent of their lust was already filling the bedroom and both girls were becoming slick with sweat.

Marlene could feel her clitoris swelling to be so it felt like it might explode at any second.

Melinda tugged on each nipple with her teeth until they grew larger than they had ever been before.

The little virgin wondered if her nipples were stretched permanently.

It wouldn't have bother her too much if they were.

Marlene kind of liked the way her nipples looked when they stuck up almost a full inch from the tips of her perky little breasts.

Her tits appeared almost flat as she sprawled on her back.

But that only made the size of her nipples appear more extraordinary.

"I am going to go down on you now," Melinda whispered.

"Y—Y-Yes, p-p-please," Marlene managed to say.

The virgin had to spit out her words like pomegranate seeds.

She had to fit her words in between gasps for air.

"I want you to concentrate on being quiet," Mindy said.

"I didn't make a peep before," Marlene said, rubbing Mindy's temples lightly with her tiny fingertips.

Melinda could tell just by that touch that her baby sister had a fine sensuous instinct.

The black haired girl knew that she would have no trouble teaching her sister how to return her orgasmic favor.

"This is going to be different," Melinda said.

"I'll concentrate on staying silent," Marlene said.

"We don't want Bernard in here, do we?" Melinda asked.

Marlene shook her head solemnly from side to side.

Melinda moved so that she was on her belly with her head between Marlene's parted thighs looking at the virgin pussy.

Melinda knew that hers would be the very first tongue to know the taste of that pink poontang.

This made her feel greatly honored. She wanted to make Marlene's initial sexual experience just perfect!

Melinda knew that a little girl's first time was very important and could affect her sex life forever.

The older sister was determined to turn Marlene from a frightened little girl into a lusty woman.

The way things had gone so far, Melinda suspected that the task was not going to be a difficult one.

It wasn't going to be anywhere close to as hard as Melinda would have thought if she had come with the idea that morning.

"You have a beautiful pussy," Melinda said sweetly.

"Thank you, Mindy," Marlene said, her voice strained.

Melinda could sense the muscles in her sister's thighs tensing.

"Raise your knees up in the air," Melinda said.

Marlene did as she was told and rolled back enough for her sister to get at her asshole if she wanted to.

Mindy wanted to.

The black haired girl yearned to rim her virgin sister's anus.

Melinda moved her chin so that it was close to the bedspread and began to lick, kiss and bite at the backs of Marlene's slender light thighs.

There was a great difference between the girl's coloring. One was dark and one was peaches and cream.

It would have appeared to an outsider as if the two girls were not even related, much less actual sisters. Melinda scratched lightly at the backs of Marlene's thighs and her buttocks with the tips of her long nails.

Marlene reached down and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her own buttocks apart so Melinda could get at her burning nether eye.

Melinda had no trouble figuring out what her baby sister wanted, and she couldn't have been happier about that.

Melinda could tell that her sister had the same anal cravings she had known in herself for years.

Of course, for Marlene, this was all brand new. She wasn't even thinking about boys, or getting fucked in the ass. All the virgin was thinking about was what a wonderful lover her sister was, arid how she hoped they could continue their new incestuous relationship long after this night was through.

Melinda placed the tip of her tongue at the top of the crack of her ass, which was down near the bedspread, and drew her tongue upward until she could feel the hot mucous membrane at Marlene's spasming sphincter.

The black haired girl traced a wet circle in spit around the puckered muscle and then licked across the hole with the flat part of her tongue.

Marlene's cunt juices had soaked the crack of her ass, which Melinda thought only enhanced the anal flavor.

The older sister could tell that she was going to love eating pussy almost as much as she loved sucking cock.

Naturally Melinda wasn't about to give up boys just because she had discovered a physical rapport with Marlene. She wanted to broaden her sexual scope, not narrow down to being exclusively incestuous and lesbian.

Marlene's thought on her new relationship with Melinda was grossly different from her older sister's.

Marlene was starting to think that men were not necessary.

If she could get all of the sexual joy she could handle from Melinda's fingers and tongue, then she figured she wouldn't ever have to fuck a guy — a thought which filled the virgin with a sigh of relief.

Marlene wondered if she had been meant to be a lesbian all along — and just never knew about it before.

She knew that this was hardly the time or place to be plotting out her life's sexual career, but she kept the thought in the back of her head, telling herself that she would have to ponder the matter some other time.

She didn't want any heavy thoughts in the front of her mind that might interfere with the intensity of her incestuous physical pleasure.

Melinda made her tongue and stiff, and concentrated on keeping it pointy at the tip as she licked.

"Stick it inside!" Marlene said, in a voice that was a little too loud as far as Melinda was concerned.

"Shhhhh!" Melinda said. "You are going to get us both screwed if you don't hush yourself. You don't have to say anything. I know what to do!"

Marlene sealed her lips and clenched her back teeth together firmly as Melinda began to force the tip of her tongue inside the diminutive virgin's tight pink asshole.

Melinda was thrilled as she felt the sphincter squeeze at her tongue as she pushed inside as deep as she could.

"I need to come," Marlene whispered. "I swear I'm right at the edge. You won't have to eat me for long, I promise."

Melinda smiled at Marlene's naive apologetic tone.

She realized that her little sister didn't know that she wanted to eat her pussy just as much as Marlene wanted it eaten.

Melinda pulled her tongue out of the thoroughly cleansed asshole and drew her tongue tip the single inch upward necessary to lick at the base of Marlene's engorged, dribbling pussy slash.

The black haired girl could feel her taste buds tingling.

She loved the flavor.

It was just as good as man come.

She wanted to quaff deeply from the virgin honey pot.

She wanted to suck that cunt dry with her pouting lips.

She wanted to make the little virgin's insides explode!

Melinda prayed that Marlene wouldn't scream. Melinda wondered if she would be able to stay silent if Marlene's tongue was on her clit!

Marlene was starting to wonder how intense the pleasure in her pussy could get before her ultimate climax was inevitable.

The pressure the virgin felt in her loins was already far greater than anything she had felt while jacking off.

She could feel tears welling in her eyes as her older sister moved her fingertips to her outer labia.

Melinda was careful not to scratch at Marlene's delicate tissues with her fingernails, not wanting to cause Marlene the least bit of pain.

Melinda had no idea how skitterish her little sister would be, and was determined to do nothing that might break the fragile mood.

She pulled the outer cunt lips apart very slowly, listening to Marlene's gasps getting louder and louder.

Melinda knew that there was little Marlene could do about the noise she was making .in her passion.

After all, the little girl did have to breathe.

Melinda figured that she had better make Marlene come quickly — before the little girl began to wail at the top of her lungs.

Marlene licked quickly up and down the insides of the outer lips and the outsides of the inner lips.

She flicked the tip of her tongue back and forth across the outer edges of the inner lips, and then worked her tongue between the smaller labia so she could get her tongue inside the hole — forgetting for a moment that her baby sister's maidenhead was quite intact and the passageway to her womb was blocked.

Melinda felt the cherry on her tongue as she went for complete penetration, and quickly pulled out of the hole, almost startled by her discovery.

She got right down to business to finish Marlene.

Melinda pulled the clit's foreskin upward. She then began to lick ever-so-lightly at the love button, using the butterfly flick she had normally reserved for the underside of a guy's prick.

She gradually increased the pressure she used.

She would have increased the speed also except she was already flicking as fast as she could.

It was indeed unfortunate for the sisters that at that moment Bernard woke up with a full bladder.

He turned to his side and saw Michele's butt, which had been pressed up against his loins as they slept - like spoons.

She was breathing evenly and did not stir as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and threw on his bathrobe.

He walked into the hall and padded barefoot o the bathroom.

The man thought he heard a funny noise coming out of the girls' room.

He shrugged and did not investigate. It was not uncommon for the girls to stay up late talking with one another.

As long as they didn't make enough noise to disturb him the man didn't give a shit if they ever slept.

He closed the bathroom door so quietly that neither Marlene nor Melinda heard him. Melinda wouldn't have been able to hear anyway because her sister was gripping tightly at her shell-like ears with the insides of her slim light thighs.

Marlene was so caught up in the massive explosions that were starting in her cunt that a hurricane could have blown through the room and she would have only been vaguely aware of it.

Bernard drained his leak into the toilet and didn't bother to flush as he left, leaving the water yellow and filled with bubbles.

Just as he opened the bathroom door, directly across the hall from Marlene and Melinda's bedroom Marlene could feel the savage pleasure of her orgasm tearing into her already reeling brain.

"OH!" she said loudly, limiting what could have been a long scream to a single outburst of physical pleasure.

Bernard could feel his face turning red with anger.

He recognized the wanton tone in that feminine voice.

He could tell the sound of a girl coming when he heard it.

After all, the sadistic man had heard it often enough.

He was really steamed because he thought one of the girls — probably Melinda — had a guy in the house.

Without his knowledge.

Strictly against the rules.

A highly punishable offense.

Melinda could feel a little spurt of juice coming from Marlene's urethra, less than an inch below her convulsing love button. The tiny spritz of hot fluid struck Melinda just below the lower lip and she knew that this was Marlene's womanly orgasmic ejaculation.

Marlene began to bounce up and down on the bed, bucking upward with her hips as the physical joy rippled wildly through her body like electric shocks being administered to her little man in the boat and both of her erect nipples.

Melinda licked at the clit hard and fast, maximizing Marlene's pleasure.

Marlene could feel every muscle in her body trembling.

The light haired virgin was drenched with perspiration.

Melinda began to suck at the quivering love button.

At that moment the door to the bedroom burst open so hard that it hit the wall and almost bounced closed again.

But a thick hairy arm held it open.

#Step-Father's Sins by Unknown #chapter 7

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lihikainanea · 5 years ago

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The idea of Tiger almost fainting during sex has me intrigued. What if she did faint? Not even necessarily during sex, but just in general. We know she’s not the best at taking care of herself and pushes herself constantly, so maybe she goes snowboarding with Valter and she never takes a break. So by the time the two of them get back, she’s exhausted and collapses. Good Dude Bill always seems so calm, despite his worries, but would Tiger actually losing consciousness change that?

Oh my god, I have so many scenarios for this.

First of all, when I teach self defence, usually we have the participants sign the classic waiver that basically says please don’t sue us if you get hurt–but then we also sort of try and delicately ask if they are currently dealing with any triggers, any PTSD from maybe an incident that happened in the past. I’ve taught self-defence in women’s shelters, in schools, basically everywhere and I always adapt my lessons to the women that I’m teaching, because sometimes it can be very triggering–especially if we’re dealing with grabs, from-behind attacks, the works. In any case, this one woman said she didn’t have triggers but that she would literally just like….faint. When she got spooked or surprised, she deadass fainted. So while we were working on grabs from behind, on an attacker physically trying to pin your arms and pick you up or drag you somewhere, even though this poor woman KNEW I was going to grab her and even gave her a countdown–she fainted in my arms. Every single time.

So like, what if tiger has something like that? I think she has a case of coulrophobia because clowns are fucked up, and Bill’s family probably has a few of those clown masks hanging around that they like to make fun of him with. Except tiger never really mentioned her intense fear of clowns to Bill’s family, because why would she, and then Valter suddenly pops up behind her wearing the clown mask, grabs her shoulders and boom–tiger wilts. Bill catches her because of course he does, swoops in right as she faints and lifts her up in his arms, giving Valter the death glare. He’ll have some choice words with his little bro as soon as tiger comes to, but for now he carts her off to the couch, goes to get a cold rag for her forehead.

But I also really like this idea that like…tiger really is just shit at taking care of herself. And often times, she will run on empty for so long that eventually her body just….gives out. And if Bill is home then he definitely tries to circumvent it, to stop it before it happens, but sometimes he just can’t. Sometimes there’s no reasoning with her. And how sweet/terriying is it–guh, maybe it’s a work thing, right? A huge project. And tiger is burning the tank on empty and then some–not sleeping, not eating right, her anxiety is dialled to 100 and all Bill can do is just try and be there for her, but despite his insistence and his concern she’s going full steam ahead. And it’s gone on for so long that maybe by the time the project launches, tiger is just this ball of full on anxiety, stress, malnutrition, the whole bit. And at a work function to celebrate the launch–hell even if it’s just a casual happy hour–tiger is having to do a lot of everything else she hates. Shmooze. Fake laugh. Talk to big wigs at the company. And Bill can see it, can see her mind finally shutting down and her body following suit. She’s a sickly pallor colour, her eyes are sunken in, and every time Bill reaches a soothing hand to rub her back, she’s clammy as hell. She’s a little wobbly and her eyelids are twitching, and she keeps pinching her nose between her fingers that way she does when she’s trying to fight something off–a migraine, a bout of nausea, whatever.

She wobbles to the bathroom at one point, it’s not discernible to anyone who doesn’t know her well but she leans heavily on the walls down the corridor and Bill follows her, pushes his way into the one stall with her as she falters.

“It’s okay kid, I’ve got you,” he wraps his arms around her waist tightly from behind.

“Bill–” she objects, but her knees are already giving out.

“You can do your thing tiger, I’ve got you,” he murmurs in her ear. Because at this point, there’s no use fighting it–it’s too late. This is happening, and it’s more about making sure she’s safe and okay when she comes to. And sure enough, as soon as he murmurs it to her–she just goes limp in his arms. Faints. Passes the fuck out. Bill sinks to the floor with her, boosting her legs up, wetting some paper towels for the back of her neck and just keeping her head on his lap. She’s never usually out for long, only a few minutes, and it’s like a reset for her body when she’s gone too far. She’ll wake up dizzy, unfocused, she might throw up. It’ll take her some time to be able to stand and even then, she’ll wobble. It’s fine, he’s already planning a way out from the work thing and the stern talking to can wait until tomorrow–when she’s had a proper night’s rest and a few good meals.

but ALSO–look, I warned you I had a lot of scenarios–also, I think tiger is shit at taking care of herself when she’s having a lot of fun. Listen man, our girl is scrappy, but her survival instincts are basically at zero when she’s surrounded by love and comfort and warmth because like…whatever, somebody else will handle it for her. If she’s gone too long without eating, Bill will point it out. If she’s not sleeping well, he’ll point that out too and help her fix it. Surely, one of the other bros will make a passing comment about how maybe she wants a vegetable–like an actual one–to go along with that humongous plate of French fries. Or about how aquavit is called water of life but how she should also maybe drink some actual water. Either way, listen, that Swedish fresh air in the mountains you know? Man, that shit is good. So maybe her and Valter do go snowboarding. And maybe it’s an awesome day and they’re at it for hours–from basically morning until late evening. And snowboarding is hard fucking work, man–from all the falling and getting up, and then when you actually do get the hang of it, basically every single muscle in your body is clenched and strained for the entire time that you’re upright. It’s a fucking workout.

So they’re having fun and Valter is a hoover so he’s basically stopping for food whenever he can–but it’s quick stops. A breakfast sammie on the way to the mountain. A few stops at the various hot dog carts on the way down the mountain, on his board. Some gatorade from one of the vending machines. And he just assumed tiger was doing the same, because she never mentioned she was hungry or thirsty. But it’s because tiger literally doesn’t feel any of those things when she’s having fun or when she’s competing–and right now, Valter has beaten her down the mountain 3 times out of 5 and tie your tuque on tighter blondie, that ain’t gonna fucking happen.

So the next time they’re at the top, tiger counts to three to start off their descent and then guns it like she’s a pro in the Olympics. She’s able to cut and glide down the mountain, reaching the bottom a good 15 seconds before Valter does. And when he finally slides down and brakes–no doubt showering her in snow–she fist pumps, yells. Gloats.

“Eat shit, Sweden!” she points at him and yells, “I win!”

And then, to Valter’s horror, she just falls right back. Crumples at the knees, wilts, and fucking faints. Because she’s starving, because she’s totally overheated in her snowsuit, because she’s dehydrated, and because this was a lot of exertion on a very empty tank.

Valter panics, starts smacking her cheeks–which are bright red, and way too hot. Right, she’s probably too warm. So in an effort to cool her down, the idiot starts shoving snow down her snow suit. Just unzips it, grabs it at the neck, and shoves handfuls of snow down it. Tiger comes to a few minutes later–now fucking freezing–asks him what the hell happened. Valter couldn’t even explain it if he wanted to, but even in her haze, tiger figured it out.

“Right. I need lunch,” she grumbles, and then grabs him by the front of his suit and pulls him in, “Valter? Don’t tell Bill. Not a fucking word.”

And then as she gets up, she grabs a handful of snow and shoves it down his shirt.

“Asshole,” she mutters, “Why the fuck would you shove snow down my shirt.”

And when they get back that night, they both try to play it casually. But as she takes off the jacket to her suit, Bill leans in for a bear hug and makes a face.

“Why are you soaked?” he asks. His first clue in was when both of them got shifty eyes at the exact same time.

“It’s uh, sweat,” tiger tries, “Snowboarding is hard work.”

Bill glares at her but she doesn’t flinch, then his eyes flit to Valter. Valter has had a tell since he was a little kid–when he’s lying or uncomfortable, he picks his eyebrows. Bill glares at his little bro, glares at all the little plucked blond hairs he can see fallen on his shirt.

“What happened.” and it’s not even a question–it’s a demand. A statement. Tiger whacks him lightly, laughs.

“Nothing, bud,” she tries, but it sounds fake even to her. Bill’s eyes are still on his brother.

“Valter,” Bill advances on him, “Why does it look like a little blond fox ran across your shirt?”

Bill flicks his hand over where all of the blond one’s eyebrows are on his shirt, Valter visibly winces. Tiger makes a cut-throat gesture to him from behind Bill.

“She passed out, man,” Valter is weak.

“She what,” Bill’s head spins on a swivel, eyes tiger down.

“I don’t know man, I’m sorry, we were racing down the hill–”

“Valter!” it’s tiger’s turn to shriek, but Bill just turns back to his brother and places a giant hand over tiger’s mouth without even looking back at her.

“And she won and when I got there she just looked at me and fucking fainted man I don’t–”

“You swore!” tiger peels Bill’s hand away from her mouth to yell at him some more, but it’s muffled again soon after.

“She fain–” Bill starts to accuse little bro, but then turns his attention back to tiger instead, “You fucking fainted?”

Tiger tries to bite the hand covering her mouth, but it doesn’t work. Bill snaps back to little bro.

“Did you feed her? Valter I told you that you needed–”

She lands a bite and Bill yelps, retracting his hand and shaking it out.

“She is right fucking here. And she is a goddamn adult. I don’t need anyone to remind me to fucking eat, Bill,” she crosses her arms, and Bill looks at her in challenge.

“Oh really?” he quirks a brow, “Tell me then, kid, what did you eat today?”

Tiger opens her mouth, but then realizes that she didn’t eat today and snaps it shut. Bill’s look of sheer righteousness was enough to keep her quiet for a minute.

“Why is she soaking wet?” Bill turns his attention back on little bro, who is shifting nervously.

“It’s sweat, I told you,” tiger butts in. Bill just points at her in warning.

“Valter,” he says again. Valter actually winces.

“I shoved snow down her shirt to try and get her to come to,” he mumbles, “I thought maybe she overheated.”

Bill pinches his nose and winces as if this physically pains him, and tiger actually feels a little bad for the toe-looking one. He really did his best given the circumstances.

“I WAS overheated,” she says, “Thank you, Valter. It worked.”

She walks to him and raises her hand for a high five, but Valter isn’t stupid. And he sees the fire in Bill’s eyes, so he leaves her hanging. Out of sheer fear of his older brother.

“You,” Bill grabs the back of her pants, gives them a rough yank and she stumbles back into his chest, “Kitchen. Now.”

“You,” he points at his brother, “I’ll deal with later.”

And like, how fucking cute is this–Bill being so pissed off and angry that this happened, all while taking such sweet care of tiger. Like, once she’s changed into dry clothes, he’s sitting her down and putting a huge bowl of delicious food in front of her.

“Going the whole day without eating,” he mutters to himself as he puts a plate in front of her and grinds some fresh pepper over it, “What were you even thinking?”

She gives a half-hearted shrug, her mouth full, and pouts out her bottom lip as she pushes her now-empty bread plate towards him while he continues to putter about the kitchen.

“That was stupid, wasn’t it?” he asks rhetorically as he puts another bread roll on her plate and puts it back in front of her, “Cheese?”

She nods, and he grates some fresh parm over her dish for her.

“Yes it was stupid,” he continues, and he takes a clean fork, pushes some of the veggies on her plate to one side and scoops some more pasta onto it once she’s done her helping.

“There’s food all over that place,” he’s still muttering to himself as he scoops her some salad into a bowl, “You could have easily grabbed a bite. But no you didn’t, did you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide, and goes to stab some salad.

“Wait,” Bill says, “Green onions.”

He digs through the bowl with another fork, picking out all the big pieces so she doesn’t eat them. He sprinkles some salt and pepper over it and slides the bowl back in front of her.

“You’re an idiot,” he grumbles, “You know that?”

She shoves a huge forkful into her mouth, chews loudly.

“Your idiot,” she says, and taps her fork on her plate, “More, please.”

#BFF!Bill #soft bill #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #funny

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oh-obrien · 5 years ago

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Inscrutable {3}

Inscrutable: Impossible to Understand or Interpret

Masterlist

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6,159 6,537

Warnings: Mentions of underaged drinking

Author’s Note: Part Three!!! Uhh some angst? Soft Stiles? I really like this part and I’m very excited for the next one!! Message me or send me an ask to be tagged!

THIS PART OF INSCRUTABLE HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH MORE CONTENT AND HAS ALSO BEEN EDITED MORE THROUGHLY!

Friday night rolled around, and Finley found herself bobbing her head along to the beat of her ‘Old Skool’ playlist, which was comprised of all the 80’s music her dad made them listen to growing up, while she Dutch braided her hair in the bathroom mirror. A knock came from the door that led into her suitemates’ room and she paused her music, “it’s open!” She called loud enough that they could hear her. Bailey, a midfielder for the lacrosse team, slipped into the bathroom, her makeup bag in her hand.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come tonight?” She asked while she pulled out her foundation and a makeup sponge. “It’s going to be an absolute blast! Beach party is one of the most looked forward to parties of the year!” Finley finished her left braid, made sure it looked okay in the mirror, and tied it off with a rubber band.

She looked over to Bailey who had just applied way too much foundation to her face, her neck and face were going to be two different colors but that was not any of Finley’s business. “I’m totally fine. I told you I have a project to work on for my Intro to Law class,” she reminded her suitemate.

Bailey pulled out her mascara and applied a heavy coat to her eyelashes. “Oh, right I forgot you mentioned that,” she fanned her hands in front of her eyes to help the mascara dry faster. Finley continued to section her hair for her right braid and carefully watched her hands work in the mirror. “With that boy, right?” Bailey asked.

“Stiles,” Finley reminded Bailey of his name and continued to tightly braid her hair, “he’s on the men’s club team actually.” She had just remembered they had the lacrosse connection, and she also knew that meant they would soon be seeing each other outside of their class and project meetings thanks to the mixed morning workouts the two teams had agreed to participate in.

“Oh right! We have a mixer with them two Saturdays from tomorrow.” Bailey told her. Finley hadn’t been much of the party type before she arrived at college. Mainly because she couldn’t get drunk, or even buzzed off of alcohol; a special strain of wolfsbane needed to be mixed in for her to feel anything other than sober at all. Being the designated driver had gotten old for both her and her brother very quickly. “Well, we have to call it a mixer,” Bailey pulled out white eye black and applied it to her nose, so it looked like sunscreen. “It’s a risky business party.”

Finley pulled her second rubber band off her wrist, “risky business?” She asked, slightly confused. “Like the movie?”

Bailey laughed after she finished coating her lips in ‘ruby red’ lipstick and smiled at herself in the mirror. “Yes! Like the movie!” She rolled her eyes and closed her make up bag. “It’s like you don’t know anything about college!” Finley rolled her own eyes in response before walking into the threshold of her room, grabbing the door handle with her hand.

“Have fun tonight, let me know if you’re going to be hungover in the morning. I’ll go out and get you and Kenna coffee,” Finley told her suitemate before closing her door that led to the bathroom. She was immediately enveloped in the warmth and comfort of her room, the orange scent from her diffuser relaxing her when she breathed in. The warm glow of the lights she had hanging along the top of her wall had her even more relaxed, some of the tension seeping out of her body. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, basking in the silence for the first time in nearly three weeks.

She had been working all summer before moving her brother in, traveling around the country, and to a few international locations with her dad. After an entire summer of traveling and trying to avoid getting killed, she wanted at least a few days to relax, but instead she had to move her brother and then herself into college. Taking a deep breath, Finley opened her eyes when she heard a knock on the bathroom door that led to her room.

“It’s open!” She groaned watching the handle twist before her other suitemate, Mckenna, walked in. She had on a pair of white, denim shorts, and a sunflower printed bikini top, a pair of sunglasses sitting on top of her head. “Please wear a coat or at least bring one,” Finley pinched the bridge of her nose.

Mckenna rolled her eyes and leaned on the frame of the door while Bailey pulled a pair of ‘lifeguard’ shorts over her red, ‘lifeguard’ one piece swimsuit. “It’s me you’re concerned about?” Mckenna laughed and motioned to Bailey who now had a hard lemonade can in her hand. “That’s her third, and it’s only seven.”

“I don’t want to be up early tomorrow because she’s throwing up,” Finley groaned and Mckenna stepped into her room closing the bathroom door behind her. Bailey and Mckenna thought that Finley was only a light sleeper, they didn’t know that when one of them was throwing up in the bathroom, Finley could both hear and smell everything.

“You say that like she won’t go home with a soccer or men’s player,” Mckenna laughed while she sat on top of one of the two desks in Finley’s room. “So, I wouldn’t be too worried about her waking up you or the boy you’re having over. Speaking of,” she swung her legs a little bit. “When’s he coming over?”

Finely looked at her watch, “ten minutes. If even,” she shrugged. “And he’s not staying over he has a girlfriend,” she added after the fact. She knew Stiles would most likely hang around as long as she let him, but she didn’t plan on trying anything with him. She didn’t know him well enough to pursue anything yet anyways.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mckenna waved her off while sliding off the desk. “We’ll be gone by eight at the latest, we’re going over to one of the senior’s apartments before heading over to the soccer house.” Mckenna opened the bathroom door and they both noticed that Bailey was trying, and failing, to braid her hair. “Let’s go Bails,” Mckenna threw a wink over her shoulder at Finley before leading Bailey back into their room, both doors separating the three closing behind the pair.

Finley let out a loud groan as she got up and locked the bathroom door from her side, making sure a drunk Bailey wouldn’t be able to barge in any time soon. She walked over to her dresser and untied her sweatpants, letting them fall to the floor while she dug around her in a drawer for a pair of shorts.

She couldn’t figure out why she felt so on edge, she wanted to rip someone’s head off and cry at the same time, a feeling she hadn’t felt since the last big blow up with her grandmother months prior. Sure, the full moon was that night, but she had been able to more than control herself for the event since she was six years old. That couldn’t be why her emotions were so volatile. She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, looking for when she was due for her next heat, and it wasn’t supposed to occur for another two months.

Stepping out of her sweats she pulled the black Nike pros up her legs and flattened the band across her stomach. Tucking the extra fabric from her long sleeve shirt into them before pulling a pair of cabin socks on her feet. Her room often got warm at night, even with the air on as cold as she could make it she would get too hot to wear sweatpants for more than a couple hours at a time. Walking over to her body length mirror she turned to the side and looked over herself for a few moments.

She had always been on both the taller and ‘curvier’ side, even when she had been younger. The body type ran in her family, even Cian was on the larger side of D1 quarterbacks. Since she had been running around the country, quite literally, most of the summer and began intense conditioning for lacrosse soon after, she had lost around fifteen pounds and started to gain more defined muscles. She wasn’t uncomfortable with how her body had been changing, but it had come as a shock when she weighed in at media day and noticed the drop in her weight. She did enjoy how her legs were becoming even more defined than they already were and her ass looked amazing.

She jumped when a knock sounded from her room door and walked over to open it. Stiles stood on the other side, his legs clad in a pair of maroon sweats that read ‘Beacon Hills Lacrosse’ and his top half covered in just a while tee shirt. “Hey!” She smiled opening the door wider so he could walk in.

“Hey,” he winced, in what looked like pain, while he dropped his backpack on her floor, “I am so sore.” He groaned, stretching his neck out. Finley watched as he bent down slowly to pull his water bottle out of his bag, holding his back while he did.

“Oh, right men’s started a couple days ago,” she laughed watching as he sat down on the edge of her bed. “We were watching you guys run suicides earlier between shotting drills,” she felt a smirk pull across her face when she saw Stiles look at her with his eyes narrowed. “Looked awful if you want my opinion, but I went through that at the beginning of the season, so I don’t feel bad per say. I just feel sympathetic.”

Finley considered taking some of his pain away, but she wasn’t sure how he would react if she did, or if he already knew about that aspect of being a werewolf. Instead, she pulled a chair over to her closet to stand on while she looked around her top shelf for her heating pad. She usually used it before her heats when she would start feeling the symptoms of it onsetting, but she also discovered it worked magic on humans when their muscles were tense or tight.

“Here, hang on,” Finley plugged it into her extension cord and turned it on to the high setting. “Sit back on the wall with this on your back.” She told him after handing him the heating pad. She watched Stiles give her an ‘I don’t believe you’ look while he settled himself against the wall, the heating pad on his lower back. She stood across the room, her arms crossed over her chest while she watched some of the tension wash out of his body, his shoulders dropping and his face relaxing.

Stiles opened his eyes to look at Finley, a smug smirk on her face. “It worked,” he smiled while he rested his head against the wall, still watching her. Finley walked across the room and sat down on her bed on the opposite send from stiles, her legs crossed while she unlocked her phone.

“I’m right sometimes,” she laughed while she pulled up a takeout menu. “So how does grilled cheese sound for dinner?” She held up the menu on her phone while Stiles turned his head to the side to watch her. That was when he noticed she had on glasses, he had never seen her wear them before. The frames complementing the shape of her face and their tortoiseshell print making her blue eyes pop.

“Grilled cheese?” He asked in slight amusement, “doesn’t sound much like take out, we could make that here if we wanted.” He spoke. Finley watched as his body relaxed even more and he sat up a little bit straighter, pulling his legs in so they crossed.

“It’s a place called GCDC and it’s a grilled cheese restaurant,” she handed him her phone that had the menu pulled up on it. “If nothing catches your eye, we can try somewhere else, but I am the one from around here y’know?” Watching Finley skeptically out of the corner of his eye Stiles took the menu and began looking it over.

A few minutes later Stiles handed her back her phone. “Okay so, maybe I was wrong,” he mumbled. “This place actually looks really good, and this heating pad is fucking magical,” he moved it further up his back. Finley noticed how much more his face had relaxed and smiled lightly, he looked cozy and warm. Mixed with the subtle scent of orange filling her room and the warm glow of her lights she found herself wanting to curl up next to him and take a nap. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Finley realized she would have to actually go see her dad in the morning and sit down and talk to him about her feelings, the last thing she wanted to do. However, she could not let her emotions get the best of her in this situation and understood that her dad tended to give good advice in the area of ‘werewolf dating and romance’, as much as she hated to admit it.

“Yeah, I know,” Finley mumbled not wanting to open her eyes and have to look at Stiles again, “and that was to both of your statements,” she added. “If you tell me what you want, I’ll call and order it,” Finley reached over to the desk that had been placed at the end of her bed and grabbed a post it and pencil.

Stiles reached out for her phone that still sat unlocked on her bed and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth while he scanned the menu again. “Would you recommend a grilled cheese or mac and cheese?” Stiles looked at Finley over the phone, his brows knit together trying to make the tough decision between the two.

“So how about this,” she bounced the pencil on her leg, “we each get a grilled cheese and then we can split a mac and cheese?” Finley suggested. “Because both are amazing and I’m actually pretty hungry tonight.” She shrugged, she had lost weight, she could eat a little more crap than she usually would. “So, four cheese mac and cheese,” she wrote it down.

Stiles looked back and forth between a couple options before settling on one. “And-” he dragged out the word while he tried to make up his mind. “I’ll get the Young American I guess,” he shrugged while he handed Finley’s phone back to her. “Which do you usually get?” He asked while she wrote his order down.

“I usually get the French Onion,” she also wrote down her order. “Uhh, I have soda and iced tea and shit in the fridge unless you want something else to drink.” She tried to think of what else they could possibly order from the restaurant. “Anything else you could think of that you would want from there?” Finley asked. Stiles shook his head, his hair that still looked slightly damp from his shower, flopping on his forehead. It was a cute look, especially with how relaxed he seemed, but Finley knew she needed to reign it in before she accidently said something she regretted. She had never been known to have the best brain to mouth filter and did not need it getting her in trouble with Stiles.

Stiles tried to settle more into the feeling of the heating pad relaxing the tense and sore muscles in his back while Finley finished writing down their orders. She set her pencil back down on her desk and held the post it between her teeth while she crawled off her bed, jumping down to the floor before padding over to her other desk.

Stiles knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t do it, but he found his eyes following her movements while she walked around her room. Her figure was illuminated by the warm glow of her lights and the two braids in her hair flowed down her back almost perfectly. He watched the muscles in her legs flex while she leaned up on her toes to put the post it of their orders up on the wall. The way her shorts fit left absolutely nothing to his imagination and Stiles found himself observing how they hugged her hips and ass perfectly.

Stiles rolled his back against the wall and tried to focus on something else while he listened to Finley call in their orders. He tried to will his mind to think about something other than walking up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist while she spoke, tracing his lips down the side of her neck. He tried to remember what Lydia’s lips felt like on his, what her arms around him felt like, but he just couldn’t. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose before letting it out slowly through his lips; he was with Lydia, he loved Lydia.

On Monday after he had spoken to Lydia, for far too long in his opinion, Stiles found himself on the phone with Scott on the verge of an anxiety attack. He loved Lydia, he truly did, but some pieces just weren’t fitting together right anymore. Scott had managed to talk Stiles off a ledge and told him that if he waited two weeks until he and Lydia were traveling to D.C. to see one of Stiles’ first lacrosse games, he would help Stiles decide if breaking up with Lydia would be the best decision for him. He had hung up his phone after the conversation and found himself flopping back into his bed with an over exaggerated sigh that had his roommate asking if he felt okay.

“Stiles?” He opened his eyes to see Finley standing in front of him, concern and confusion written on her face. “It’ll be here in like fifteen minutes, but are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

Stiles sat up a little bit and groaned when he felt his muscles tense up again, a sickening crack traveling down his back when he stretched it out. “I’m okay just, I need to get used to it again,” he sighed. “I’m sure you’d understand it.” He laughed and moved the heating pad down lower again.

Finley bit her lip while she looked at Stiles, of course she didn’t fully understand it, her muscles would heal almost immediately after she strained them at practice. She could clearly see how the soreness had affected Stiles though, and she wanted to help but didn’t want to risk exposing herself. “We could have rescheduled y’know?” She asked him.

“I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a few minutes to sit down,” he waved her off before standing up and going to pick up his backpack. “I’ve been looking at the case stuff and I have a couple ideas on who the suspect is, but I think we need the rest of the case information he’s giving us Monday to finish it.”

Finley stopped him from bending down with a hand on his shoulder and offered a soft smile. “It’s good I was thinking the same thing because you need physical rest and I need a mental break,” she spoke. “We can look at it again at lunch on Monday, okay?” She pushed Stiles’ bag next to hers with her foot.

“Sounds good to me,” Stiles walked back over to her bed and pushed himself up on the mattress, settling the heating pad on his back again. Finley offered him a sympathetic smile before she grabbed her wallet and ID.

She slipped on her Crocs before grabbing the handle of the door. “I’m gonna go grab the food, you just don’t hurt yourself,” she laughed lightly. Stiles went to push off the mattress and she reached a hand out to stop him. “Didn’t I say to like, stay there?” She asked, cocking her head to the side, a playful smirk pulling at her lips.

“I need to-”

“It’s on me this time,” she waved him off when Stiles gave her a look that said he wanted to protest, and she opened her door and started to step outside before he could say anything else. “I said it’s on me,” she repeated.

Stiles leaned his head back against the wall and watched Finley leave, her door shutting quietly behind her. Being left alone in Finley’s room felt slightly wrong, and his curiosity had him eager to look around, but he wasn’t sure if it would be rude. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus on the warmth spreading throughout his body, but he got too curious to stay focused on the pain that spread throughout his body. Stiles opened his eyes and looked around the room, he noticed that the wall her window was on had been covered in pictures and slowly pushed himself off the bed with a groan.

Slowly he shuffled across her soft rug, not wanting to lift his legs too much and hurt himself even more and paused in front of the wall of photos. He quickly scanned over the wall and noticed that most of them seemed to feature Finley and her friends at various sports games or school dances, even sleepovers and vacations.

He realized he had quite a few similar photos hanging up in his room and smiled a little bit, he could be a normal teenager sometimes apparently. Between fighting the supernatural, trying to actually finish high school and making sure no on in his pack actually died, Stiles hadn’t had much time to be a ‘normal’ teenager the last few years. He had hoped he would change that at college and be able to let go a little bit, so far that had proved to be true, but he just hoped the trend would continue.

Stiles found himself looking past most of the pictures from lacrosse games or prom and his eyes settled on one that hung right next to the window on its molding. A little girl posed in front of a tiger cage in the pictures, a boy who looks quite similar next to her, they both had Mickey Mouse ears on, and their faces were painted to look like tigers. Behind the two kids stood a man who Stiles noticed in a number of other photos, Finley’s dad he assumed, and a woman who seemed to be almost a splitting image of Finley.

“That was our last family vacation,” Finley held a paper bag in her hand and closed her bedroom door. Stiles jumped when he heard her voice and gasped, putting a hand over his heart and groaning in pain. “Sorry,” Finley laughed and sat the food down on her desk along with her wallet and ID, “couldn’t help it. I wanted to see if you would actually jump.”

She walked over to where Stiles stood and ran her fingers over the picture, smiling sadly while she did. “That was two weeks before she passed actually,” Finley mumbled, “at the Animal Kingdom,” she pointed to another photo. Her and her brother, along with their father, stood in the same location for the photo and still wore Mickey ears, but they looked significantly older. “And that one is from when we were sixteen, there’s others somewhere on here.” She motioned around the wall. “We go the same week every year.”

Finley turned and walked back to her desk where the food sat. “Sorry I was snooping around,” he spoke while walking over towards her. He hadn’t meant to look creepy while looking at her photos, he just wanted to get to know her better and his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

“Oh, I don’t care,” she ripped the staples out of the paper bag with her nails and dumped them into the garbage bag. “I don’t really have anything to hide, and besides they’re hanging up so it’s just asking people to look at them. If I did have something to hide,” she slid the three containers out of the bag along with some plastic forks and napkins, “I wouldn’t leave it out in the open.”

Finley bit her lip while sitting down on the floor and opening her mini fridge, of course she had things to hide, but nothing in her room. “Uhh,” she bent down to look in the fridge, “alcohol or non-alcohol for the drink?” Just because Finley couldn’t get drunk off normal alcohol didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. Also knowing that his kids couldn’t feel the effects alcohol provided to others, Maxwell often had no problems with providing his kids drinks.

“You have alcohol in here?” Stiles asked in slight disbelief. Finley turned around and looked up at him, slightly shocked that had been his reaction.

“Yeah, and my suitemates have a shit ton more,” she laughed pushing a few bottles and cans around in the fridge. “So?” she asked Stiles waiting for an answer.

She saw stiles sit down in her desk chair next to where she sat on the floor. “I mean if you’re offering, I’ll take one of whatever you’re having,” he shrugged. Finley smirked and pulled out a can and handed it to him.

“I don’t know if you’re a fan of hard coffee like I am,” she pushed a few more bottles and cans around. “If not, I have a couple different beers and uhh- a few different hard lemonades.” She looked up to Stiles who had set her coffee can on the desk.

“Uhh I guess whatever beer you have then,” Finley sighed and pulled two bottles out, a Corona and a Bud Light, shaking both bottles slightly to tell Stiles to pick. “Corona,” he said firmly, and Finley smirked, holding the bottle out towards him.

She slid the other back into the fridge and pulled a magnetic bottle opener off the side of her fridge and handed it to him. “My dad and brother drink Corona,” she said, “I actually don’t like beer honestly.”

Finley watched Stiles open the bottle and he set the cap on her desk before putting the bottle opener back where it belonged. She handed him his grilled cheese and the container of mac and cheese, “go get comfortable again,” she nodded towards the bed, “I can tell you’re still in pain and I want to pick a movie to watch.”

Finley watched Stiles walk back towards the bed and set both containers down before pushing himself up on to the mattress, his brows furrowing in pain while he did. Maybe when he wasn’t paying attention she could try and take away at least a little bit of his pain. “What kind of movies do you have?” She heard Stiles ask while she pulled a chair over to her closet. She stepped on to the chair and pulled a blue, plastic bin off the top shelf, stepping down with it in her hands.

“Umm it’s a lot of old movies really,” she thumbed through the DVD boxes. “All the Jurassic Park movies, that are out at least, The Godfather movies, The Notebook,” she snorted while she flipped past it, “oh all the Star Wars ones, Harry Potter, Scooby-Doo!” She pulled out the last box and flipped it over seeing it contained many of the classic seasons in the box set. “It’s up to you though,” she walked over to the bed and placed the box down, “you’re the guest.”

She watched Stiles flip through the movies she had before he paused on Star Wars, “I mean,” he held the box up, “it’s my favorite movie.” She saw him look closely at the box, “but I’ve also seen it like a million times,” he mumbled to himself.

Finley crossed her arms over her chest, “like I said. You’re the guest. You want to watch Star Wars,” she shrugged, “we watch Star Wars.” The Star Wars series had also been one of her favorites growing up. Cian claimed when he had been younger that one day, he would be a Jedi, eventually that dream shifted to working in law enforcement though.

“Yeah,” Stiles slid the box back into the same place he had pulled it out from. “But you looked really excited when you saw this,” he pulled out the Scooby-Doo box. Finley bit her bottom lip while he held it out to her with a wide smile. “They’re detectives, I mean with my FBI experience, I’m half a detective. So, it should be enjoyable.” Finley let her bottom lip fall from between her teeth and smiled as she grabbed the box from Stiles, going to put the DVD into the player.

Stiles smiled and watched Finley while she walked over to where her television and DVD player were placed on top of her dresser. As much as he had wanted to watch Star Wars, he saw how happy she had been when she found the Scooby-Doo box and figured it was the least he could do, especially when she had gotten dinner and invited him to her room. He took a sip of the beer that he held while watching Finley bend down to plug in the DVD player.

He quickly averted his eyes from her ass as she bent down and focused on the thin layer of white foam that had settled on top of his beer. He had to wait to make a move until he had broken up with Lydia, he couldn’t cheat on her, even if he knew he would be breaking up with her two weeks later. Instead, he opted to pull his phone out and text Scott while Finley fiddled with the DVD player.

“Scotty Boy, I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” he typed out the first message and sent it. “You know that wolfy thing where at first you can’t control when you turn? Yeah, that’s my hormones right now.” Stiles watched Finley tuck the DVD remote into the waistband of her shorts, if they could even be called that, before she picked up her own grilled cheese and hard coffee can.

Stiles felt his phone vibrate next to him while Finley set her food and can down on the bed. She pulled the DVD remote out of her shorts along with her phone from the other side, which she also set down on the bed. He looked over when he saw the screen on her phone light up and noticed that a notification for ‘Full Moon’ had popped up on her screen.

“You have two weeks man, and you just met her, can you really feel that drawn to her?” Scott had replied to his message. Stiles let out a loud sigh and Finley turned to look at him while she climbed into her bed, sitting down on the end opposite from Stiles.

“Well, someone sounds upset,” she laughed picking up the DVD remote and pressing play. Stiles didn’t answer for a moment and instead pulled his grilled cheese box closer to himself, opening it up before looking over to Finley who was still watching him.

He looked into her eyes and shrugged, “just Scott being Scott,” he quickly made up an excuse, “he’s actually with my ex-girlfriend and it’s a whole long story,” that should be a good enough cover.

“Oh damn,” Finley bit into her grilled cheese. “I’m sorry that must be rough,” she finished her thought. Stiles shrugged and took a bite of his own grilled cheese before trying to think of a proper response.

He swallowed the food in his mouth before continuing to speak, “actually it happened like naturally I guess, I can’t really be mad about it,” Stiles shrugged. “Besides, then I started dating Lydia and just life had gotten crazy, so I didn’t really have the time to complain about it and by the time I did I had already gotten over it.” Stiles picked up his phone and flipped it over again.

“Isn’t there guy code?” Finley asked. “Like whatever girl code is?” Stiles leaned over the end of the bed to set his beer down on the dresser next to it.

He shrugged, he wasn’t quite sure about guy code, and he hadn’t had the most conventional high school years to speak on it. “I mean, I’m sure there is,” he replied, “but me and Scott never really worried about I guess, petty stuff like that.” He watched Finley nod before she turned to look at the television. “Good luck with the full moon, by the way,” he sent Scott.

“I don’t know much about girl code either,” she looked back to Stiles, “so I don’t even really know why I asked,” he watched her look down at her lap, like she wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure if she should.

Stiles sighed before trying to think of something to continue the topic with, hoping to make her more comfortable around him. “I can also tell you that Scott made out with my current girlfriend once, well she kissed him,” he took another bite of his grilled cheese. “Now that I think about it,” he swallowed his food, “we have some weird little incestuous pit going on,” he laughed lightly.

“The football players and lacrosse girls at my school were like that,” Finley turned to face Stiles better and crossed her legs. “I can like make a whole confusing web of who dated who, and who cheated on who with someone else, and who hooked up with whoever and then started dating but had previously dated someone else. It’s confusing really,” she took a long sip of her drink.

Stiles shoved the last bite of his first half of grilled cheese into his mouth, “how’d you fit into that web?” He asked around his mouth full of food, wiping his hands on one of the napkins.

Finley rolled her eyes while sighing, “do you really want to know?” She asked him.

“I mean-” Stiles shrugged with a small smile, “I’m intrigued now. This seems like an absolute mess.” He hadn’t realized Scott had texted him until his phone vibrated against his leg, and he flipped it over to see a string of texts from Scott. Stiles, however, chose to ignore it; flipping the ringer on his phone off so it wouldn’t vibrate anymore.

Turning his attention back to Finley he watched as she fiddled nervously with the can in her hands, pressing indents into it where her fingers sat. “Uhh, well for starters I guess I have never dated anyone, never hooked up with anyone, never anything romantic with anyone,” he watched as a blush came over her face, traveling down her neck and past the collar of her shirt.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Stiles mumbled, feeling slightly guilty. Here he was, talking about all the girls he’d been with, which isn’t many, but still. He didn’t want Finley’s lack of experience to make her feel bad about herself.

Finley shrugged while she wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “I had been really interested in one of the guys in our friend group, he played on the line for the football team,” she let out a long sigh. “But then he started dating this other girl, they broke up, he asked me to prom-”

“Oh, so that’s good!” Stiles interrupted. Finley gave him a tiny smile, but he noticed how her lips dropped back down into half a frown.

“Yeah, but then on the night of prom,” she balanced the coffee can on her sock covered feet, avoiding eye contact with Stiles. “He wound up getting back with his ex and prom sucked,” she sighed. She looked up to see Stiles pulling at the napkin in his hands. “And I just made it awkward,” she mumbled.

Stiles’ head shot up at her words. “No!” He cleared his throat. “No, you didn’t! I just-” he tried to find the right words. “I just feel bad, you seem so, kind and genuine, and- and you deserve to be happy,” he offered her a sad smile in return.

“I’ll find it eventually,” she mumbled, picking at the crust of her grilled cheese. She smelled the sympathy coming off Stiles, and she hated it. He felt bad for her, he just felt bad for her, he wasn’t actually interested in her, someone like him couldn’t be. She was also a supernatural freak, she bit the inside of her bottom lip, who would want to deal with that. She knew Stiles had before, but he and his were-ex hadn’t worked out.

After that a silence fell between the two of them, Finley picking at her grilled cheese while Stiles finished his. “I’m not really hungry anymore,” she pushed the mac and cheese container closer to him, “you can have it.” She saw that Stiles wanted to say something, but he hesitated. Instead, he slid their containers out of the way and set them on the dresser with his beer along with the napkins and forks.

“You really do deserve to be happy,” he said quietly, moving closer to Finley. She continued to chew on the inside of her lip to avoid crying and let out a long stream of air through her nose. “I’m serious,” he added. Finley set her drink on the desk and looked over to Stiles, her cheek resting on her knees while she did. His whiskey-colored eyes softened and he sighed, moving ever closer.

Finley felt his warmth from where she sat and wanted to move closer, it was like his natural body temperature was trying to pull her even closer. That and his scent had mellowed out, it turned sweeter, relaxing even, like cinnamon and freshly dried clothes. “Like I said,” she let her lip fall from between her teeth, “eventually.”

Stiles reached out and Finley didn’t protest, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her into him. She immediately felt most of the tension seep out of her boy when he pulled her into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. With the tension leaving her body and Stiles’ warm scent wrapping around her she couldn’t control her emotions and felt a few tears slip out of her eyes, dripping off the tip of her nose. “Hey,” Stiles said quietly, “I promise eventually it’ll all work out.”

“It’s fine,” Finley sat up and wiped her eyes, “I just- I let my emotions get the best of me and I just, don’t usually do that,” she stumbled over her words. Stiles leaned back against the headboard of her bed before grabbing her by the shoulder again and pulling her into him. This was wrong, so, so, wrong, Finley thought to herself, but she gave in. Resting her head against his bicep Finley sighed and felt her eyes slip closed, she couldn’t fight it and wasn’t quite sure why.

“You’ll be happy soon,” she heard Stiles mumble, “I promise.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles x oc #werewolf ofc #human stiles #anna writes

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bakugou-tm · 6 years ago

Text

Anti-Hero Bakugou x Reader

Soooo a lot of you have been asking for more Villain/Anti-Hero Bakugou and you have sent me lovely requests but this idea popped in my head so I figured I would write it out before I forget, hope you enjoy! (Also I’m going to use the same water quirk I gave the reader from my past villain Bakugou writings, hope you don’t mind! (I may make this a story or part two, i d k yet)

It felt like every other day you experienced as a pro-hero.

Wake up, file a few papers at the agency, get a distress call from downtown, kick some bad guy butt, come home and chill out, repeat.

While today that order of events seemed to be following through, you had no idea about the next change of events that were about to happen.

Clenching your fists before the villain you let out a quiet groan as you listened to his annoying rant about his plans. While you would have just sent a wave of water to knock him straight out from the get go, you figured listening to his evil plans would buy time for the nearby civilians to flee the scene.

“Now my dear (Hero Name), with these new updates to my powers... I’ll finally be able to take you down once and for all, the whole city will watch your doomsday!”

If only you had a dime for everytime a villain had said that to you. You had just graduated from UA not even a year ago, making your big debut as the Number Three Pro-Hero in Japan just a few months ago and already villains were out to make you their worst nemesis.

It wasn’t that you had a powerful quirk, in fact it was quite limiting since you could only use it if you had water nearby, the small water jets attached to your suit not holding enough water for an intense battle.

Most people assumed it was the new style you brought to being a hero. In every fight you were able to remain cool under pressure, moving like the calming element you controlled as you took down your opponents. To oppose your tranquil quirk you had a bright personality that was able to inspire anyone that watched you. That, is how you earned your spot with the big leagues.

And you planned on rising even more till you were at the top.

Letting out a sigh your face deadpanned to the villain as you bent down to the manhole on the ground and threw it to the side, giving you access to all the glorious but filthy water below you.

“Ohh Sparky, don’t you know water and electricity don’t go very well with each other? I would re-think your decisions for a moment.” You said with a grin, raising your arms up to allow the water from the sewage to rise in front of you.

The villain before you only laughed at your warning as if you had said the funniest thing in the world. Electricity already began flowing up his arms, a sickening smirk on his face as he got in a fighting stance.

“I wouldn’t be so confident today little miss water girl.”

Rolling your eyes you swung your arms around so the water began to dance around you before holding it in place, “Suit yourself buddy, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

With that final warning you dashed off, small strips of water from your protective circle surrounding you coming out forming into icicle like shapes as you froze them before launching them towards the villain.

As the two of you had your brawl, the occasional sound of electricity sounding or a loud bang of one of you throwing the other into the wall, nobody seemed to notice the certain hood male watching from above a shorter building.

The ash blond smirked to himself, watching as your body danced around with such grace and skill as water itself. It had been awhile since the two of you met, ever since you left UA to become a pro you pretty much cut yourself off from his antics.

The young villain tried his best to stay away from you, and for a few solid months he could.. that is until your name began popping up everywhere. Just as he had expected you had climbed up the pro hero scale, landing at the Number 3 spot making you the youngest hero on the Top 10 list.

After hearing this he just had to watch the great (Hero Name) in battle, and now he could confidently say he didn’t regret it.

Even he couldn’t help but admit you were the perfect hero... besides your one of a kind beauty, you also had the brains, brawn, and skill that could surpass the Number 1 Hero in seconds.

Letting out a quiet chuckle to himself, Bakugou leaned up against one of the metal air conditioning units on the roof of the building as he watched you flip around the villain, a stream of water being kicked down causing the villain to be slammed into the cement below him.

It was clear you were aware that if his electricity hit your water it would likely shock you, that’s why you made sure to keep the water surging around you rather than on your actual body. That way anytime he tried to electrocute the water, you would shoot the water back to him effectively giving him a taste of his own medicine.

You were beyond smart, but in every plan there was a flaw. While it was clear you would be the victor of this fight, it wouldn’t be as easy as you wished. Along with the villain’s lightening like quirk, it gave him the ability to move rather quickly like lightening itself. The villain’s quirk was far from super speed, but it was tricky enough to give you a hard time.

From watching your battle unfold, Bakugou assumed you were trying to wrap the water around the villain to basically trap himself, so either way if the villain used his quirk or gave up in your grasp you would be successful.

Even with the villain’s slight advantage, the young villain from above held no doubt that this fight would be over in five minutes. The villain you were fighting was known as, Daggerbolt; the rather lame name fitting his lame personality. He was underrated for a reason, even with such a powerful quirk he had his head stuck so far up his butt it made him incapable of defeating any heroes.

The only way the foolish villain would take you down is if you were caught off guard, which was highly impossible.

Or... perhaps this once Bakugou would misjudge the situation too soon.

Both your (e/c) eyes and Bakugou’s crimson ones landed on the small boy that was cowering behind one of the many tables outside of a restaurant. He must have lost his mother in the heat of the moment, but as you saw the villain aim towards the giant billboard your (e/c) eyes widened.

Flipping your (h/c) hair behind you, you wasted no time in raising your arms, water wrapping around them to form a new pair of water like arms. Launching yourself off the ground as the villain electrocuted the billboard you let one of your water arms wrap around a metal flag pole hanging off the side of a building while your other wrapped around the base of the billboard.

Letting out a pained groan you pushed against the creaking billboard with all your might to keep it from falling on top of the boy.

Gritting your teeth you looked down to the boy who was watching in amazement and fear.

“K..Kid, get o..out of here!” You screamed, the kid immediately nodding his head before darting back into a nearby ally.

You yelled out in pain from keeping the billboard up, your muscles feeling more strained than ever. Once the kid was out of sight you were ready to release your water hold and let it fall until you heart a sinister laugh come from below you.

“My my my Dear (Hero name)...” The villain purred, your eyes flicking down to see the villain’s arm pointed up to your body, “You seem to be in quite a shocking position.”

Your eyes suddenly widened along with the ash blond who was on the building next to you as you realized both of your arms had water wrapped around them.

Just as you were about to scream for the villain to stop it was too late, a bolt of electricity shot from the villain’s hands effectively enveloping your entire body.

You let out a shrill scream that was so loud, Bakugou was sure the entire country of Japan heard it, the haunting sound echoing through the city walls.

Your body seemed to shrivel up at the new pain you felt causing you to loose control of the water around you, your limp body falling down from at least one story high before your body hit the cement with a loud thud.

The villain before you seemed to be just as surprised as Bakugou and the rest of the city was. The Number 3 Hero, the shinning face of Japan, the next hit sensation was truly lying unconscious before him, your body twitching every so often from the extreme amount of energy that was brought into you.

But just as quickly as the shocked appeared on the villain’s face, it quickly disappeared being replaced with a sinister smirk.

“Now I warned you Miss (Hero Name) didn’t I?” The villain questioned tauntingly, his arms sparking up as he watched your barely breathing form twitch around, managing to get on your back before you yelped in pain just at that movement, “I told you this would be your doomsday...”

Bakugou watched as he sauntered to your weak form, his heart racing wildly and his brain thinking a mile a minute. This couldn’t be happening... you never got beat.. right? Yeah.. yeah you would get up in a minute and surprise attack the villain with an uppercut to the jaw, surely.

Crouching down the villain grabbed you by the neck, lifting your struggling form up from the ground as you began to cough for air, your arms not being strong enough to even bring them to your neck.

“Now all of Japan gets to watch as I destroy their precious hero!”

The ash blond was now in a standing position, his fists clenched as he watched your weak form being held up in the villain’s hands.

How could you just allow the villain to do this? You were (L/n) (F/n), you never lost! This villain is about to murder you and you’re just letting it happen.

Every fiber and voice in Bakugou’s body was screaming at him to jump down there and save you, but he knew his reputation would be sucked down the drain if he did that in front of all these people.

Gritting his teeth he felt his palms begin to smoke up as he watched the villain’s palm begin to spark up lightly.

“Fucking come on (L/n).. move!” Bakugou growled between his teeth.

Looking down to the villain with narrowed (e/c) eyes you felt chills go through your body when you heard Daggerbolt’s laugh fill the air.

“Everyone will get to see you fail water girl, I almost feel bad... but then again you were a pain in every villain’s ass...” Daggerbolt growled before his free palm gripped your chin as his palms began to light up, “Light’s out (Hero Name).”

Suddenly the ash blond had launched himself down to the ground, his body almost out of his control as he let off a loud explosion that shook the ground.

Bakugou watched every moment of your little talk, but it wasn’t the words he was telling you or the pained noises you were making that caused him to take action, it was the one look in your eyes that you held at your final moments. That expression that filled your beautiful (e/c) eyes that Bakugou had never truly seen before.

Fear.

Daggerbolt’s grip on you faded at the loud of the sound explosion, your neck escaping his grasp as your limp body fell to the ground. Taking advantage of the grey smoke that was around, Bakugou quickly snatched up your barely conscious body, carefully pulling you into his arms until the smoke faded away to reveal the scene below.

“Who the hell...” The villain hissed, letting out a few coughs from the smoke until he caught a glimpse at the all too familiar ash blond hair and crimson eyes he knew before, “Ground Zero?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Honestly Bakugou couldn’t even come up with a response. What was he doing? Here he stood, the most notorious villain in all of Japan, hell even the world, holding your limp body protectively in your arms in front of millions to watch.

Deciding not to answer at all Bakugou just slammed his fist into the cement causing a large explosion to go off while the cement exploded upwards toward Daggerbolt from the force of the blow.

Looking for some sort of escape, Bakugou held your body up against his chest while he slowly began to back away from the scene.

“You’re making a big mistake Ground Zero,” Daggerbolt threatened, his hands beginning to light up as he pointed an accusing finger to the boy, “You’re about to turn your back on your entire family!”

At this the ash blond grit his teeth, his eyes darkening as he let one hand go free from your grasp, “You don’t know what the fuck family even is...”

With that he let off an enormous explosion, one so extreme it sent the whole block of city in flames. Windows were blasted open, any signs or wooden objects were up in flames or simply burnt to ash.

Bakugou wasn’t sure if the villain was able to make it out of that blast alive, but at this point he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

All he could do was take off the other way with you in his arms. Hearing the sound of sirens in the back, the ash blond let out a string of curses before letting his free arm blast behind him launching them both into the air above the buildings.

Once getting far enough from the scene Bakugou landed towards a familiar abandoned beach he would visit occasionally, running towards a nearby abandoned shack.

In the midst of his escape you began to cough violently, your whimpering voice filling the air signaling you were somewhat awake causing him to look down.

“K..Katsuki...? Is that y..you?”

Bakugou only let out a grunt, continuing his mad dash to the hut until he was inside, slamming the door shut behind him to leave no trace of the two of you until you spoke up again.

“W..What did you just do... Katsuki what-”

“Shut up.” Bakugou hissed, but his voice lacked his usual bite, holding more of a fear and concern instead, “I just saved your sorry ass from that freak show of a villain-”

You opened your mouth to interrupt before Bakugou placed a calloused finger on your lips effectivly hushing you up, “No I didn’t fucking plan on it and no I don’t know why, but all that matters now is that we are in this together alright?”

Blinking for a moment you let out a pained groan before nodding slightly, the villain letting out a sigh before he placed you on the old bamboo flooring of the shack carefully as you consciousness began to fade once more.

From what he could tell you weren’t going to die, but you would certainly feel this in the morning. As much as he wanted to leave to get supplies to better you, there was no way in hell he was going to leave you alone in this state. And quite honestly he shouldn’t be out there alone in his state, not after that stunt he just pulled.

Letting out a gruff sigh, the ash blond leaned back against one of the wooden walls, watching as your eyes fluttered in a battle to stay awake before you gave into the exhaustion and began to fall asleep.

Once Bakugou assured you were asleep he let out a calmer sigh, letting his fingers run through your messy locks as he looked out one of the cracked windows.

This definitely wasn’t part of the plan, saving you was not apart of the damn plan. But now here he was, and as confident and cocky as he portrayed himself, even he couldn’t help but feel the fear creep in.

He had no.. no home. There was no way in hell he could show his face near any villains, an uprising has probably already started now that he was gone. But he couldn’t show his face with the heroes either, since he still was in there eyes the worlds most dangerous villain.

Bakugou grit his teeth, letting out a shaky breath until he felt your head nudge against his thigh, breaking him out of his stressed trance to see your form begin to cuddle up to him.

Letting out a quiet chuckle the ash blond gazed down to your tattered form with grateful eyes, even though he probably just made the most regrettable decision of his life, he also made the best. Thanks to his instinct there was still air flowing in and out of those heart shaped lips he grew to love.

Placing a warm kiss on your forehead the ash blond dragged your scratched up head into his lap, pulling your cool body into his warmth while his fingers massaged your head lightly, his words still playing on repeat in his head until he too fell asleep...

“All that matters now is that we are in this together.”

#bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #villain bakugou #villain bakugou x reader #anti hero bakugou #anti hero bakugou x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #this is a lil long #but i'm pretty proud #ennnnnnnnn j o y

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