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xoxxbilliexoxx · 4 days ago

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Friends? Just Friends?

part 2

part 1 here

When you wake up after a night that changed everything for you two, Billie lets you continue exploring what it’s like to be with a girl … ;)

y/n POV

As the sunlight peaks through the curtains I’m slowly pulled from my slumber. My eyes stay closed, allowing myself to fall in and out of a sleepy haze. The cool sheets rub against my soft legs and the breeze from the open window runs lightly along my arm. As I roll over I smile at the smell of Billie’s shampoo and perfume blending together. It’s a smell that has taken over my bed with the frequency that she shares it with me. I take a deep breath, letting it flood my senses before sighing and returning back to my thoughtless meditative state. It isn’t until I feel the brisk air hit my bare chest that I realize I’m naked. My eyes flash open as I turn to see Billie’s exposed boobs only half covered by the sheets and I am hit with the memories of last night. It all felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from. Now I'm remembering just how real it was as I see her bruise covered neck. I close my eyes again, smiling as I play it all back in my head. play back the feeling of her boobs in my mouth, her lips on my lips, her tongue on my pussy. As I lay still, happily reminiscing on the passion we shared, the sunrays hits my eyelids and my brain is filled with gold light. I feel the bed moving and as billie’s body pushes against mine I open my eyes, watching her lips meet my forehead before she settles back down on my chest.

“goodmorning pretty girl” I half whisper half speak, my morning voice cracking through my throat. “goodmorning lesbo” she giggles back at me. “so that was real huh? not just an amazing dream I had last night?” i flirt out, not hiding it at all. “oh no baby it was very very real, so real, in fact, that ur still very much naked” Billie states, as her hand wanders down to my core, swiping her fingers between my lips making me twitch before bringing it back up and hugging me. Her intentions weren’t to get me horny again, they were more to just tease lightly, but I don’t think she realizes just how powerful of an effect she has on me. I lay still for a while, feeling overwhelmed by the joy I’m getting from billie cuddled up on my chest, the long building tension now gone and the flirting no longer needing to be hidden. I don’t dare ask what is going on, not only because I don’t want to ruin the moment but because I truthfully don’t care right now. All I care about is the way Billie makes me feel, and the way we so naturally fell into this dynamic, like it was meant to happen exactly as it did; Like we are exactly where we are meant to be.

Her fingertips lightly stroke my arm up and down, her touch so soft that her fingers continue to lift, disconnecting and reconnecting over and over. I hum at the feeling. It’s so peaceful with her, like we've been doing this forever. “Your skin is so soft, how did I not notice this before?” I laugh at her question before answering, “I think you were scared to touch me for a while, Eilish” She's silent for a second. I can feel her cheeks moving, forming into a smile. “mmmmm well I can touch you all I want now” she finally says before moving her hand up to grab my boob, shaking her hand up and down making it move with her. She looks so amused, so happy to have me like this now, to touch me like this now. “you better quit it before you get me all horny again” I laugh, pulling her hand away. Before I let her go, she interlocks it with mine and lays them both back down. “And what would be so wrong with you being horny again?” she looks up at me as she finishes her question. When I look down to meet her glance I can’t help but giggle at the smug look on her face. “shit i’m not complaining, go ahead baby” I crack back at her, my honest tone mixing in with the laughter, making it clear she can do whatever she’d like.

Everything feels so much more real when there isn’t wine in the mix, when the moon is no longer glowing but instead the sun is filling the room, when the birds outside are chirping. Her touch moving across my lower stomach, the goosebumps forming on my skin, her lips making contact with my collarbone, it’s all so much more real. She looks up and, fuck, this eye contact feels oh so real. when our lips touch it’s more delicate than it was last night, more intimate somehow. It’s slow, like we aren’t wanting to devour each other, but instead want to learn exactly what our lips feel like against one another. The slow speed continues but the passion grows. Our lips dance between each other, finding a rhythm, making up the choreography and sticking with it. The light sounds of kissing fills the room and we stay just like this for a while. We aren’t in a rush, I don’t need sex, I need her.

My own hands grow curious of her body and my confidence builds. As Billie’s lips continue to wrap around mine and her body is still draped across me, I grab her waist and pull her up more. Our heads are now equal, I'm no longer looking down at her. Her one leg is thrown across my body and her other is snug against my side. Our lips continue to move slowly but passionately, not wanting to end this intense make out session. I can’t remember the last time I made out with someone this long without it turning into more. Men and their fucking lack of foreplay, ew. I let my hand move down to Billie’s ass and squeeze it hard, wanting more of her body immediately. Our lips are speeding up and the kiss is becoming sloppier. I feel a hunger growing from deep within me, but it’s not for my own pleasure. I suddenly feel an intense craving to touch her, to please her, to learn all the parts of her body like she did for me last night. My thoughts race around my head as we continue to let the desire build. I don’t know what to do, or how to do it, all I know is I want her, I’ve wanted her forever.

I let the fervor turn to confidence as I roll us over, Billie now under me. I pull away for a second to look down at her before I smash my lips back down, not able to stay away from her. My hands roam her body fast, wanting to touch every part of her all at once. I slow myself down when I reach her boobs, squeezing and kneading them as I watch her chest begin to rise and fall more dramatically. My lips move away from her as I find my way to her neck, immediately licking from her collarbone to right under her ear, and then biting down on the same sweet spot I found last night. She’s moaning and writhing underneath me, her breathing becoming heavier as she makes it known how badly she wants to be touched, to be pleased. Seeing her like this turns me on so hard, never imagining she’d be so submissive, so willing to let someone else take control like this. In all the stories she’s told me of her crazy hookups with random girls, she’s always the one in control, even when she’s receiving. Right now though, it’s clear she’s given herself to me, surrendered to my touch and in her own world.

My mouth continues planting wet kisses across her neck and chest and she begins letting out very quiet whimpers, making it seem like I'm winding her up so much she’s about to explode. I feel her legs move under me, crossing them tightly, obviously searching for some sort of release. I move my hand to one of her thighs and pull them apart before planting my palm on her clothed center and grabbing her harshly. The long awaited contact makes her hips jolt up, forcing an even deeper pressure against her core resulting in a long, closed mouth moan. My desire continues to guide me as my hand moves under her shorts. I groan when I feel her arousal dripping down her thighs. I feel overwhelmingly turned on by how wet I’ve made her, how caught up in my touch she has become. I run my fingers between her lips, spreading around her wetness and watching her face contort in pleasure. Her eyes are closed and her hands are grabbing at her own boobs, continuing to move her body under me.

I let my index and middle finger slip up to her clit and as soon as I find it I begin wrapping tight circles around it. Billie whines louder and I put more pressure on her swollen bud, circling faster and tighter and letting my lips find their way back to her neck. “fuck y/n, yes, please yes” she moans out, begging for more of my touch. I’m caught in between wanting to suck sweetly on her neck or watch her face showing every ounce of pleasure I'm giving her. I pause my circles to run my fingers back up and down her pussy, collecting more of the wetness I’ve caused before going back up and finding her clit again. As I start to rub it again she opens her mouth, groaning loudly, no longer able to hold in her moans. “That's it baby, I wanna hear you, let me hear how good i’m making you feel” she lets out a gasp, as if she was holding her breath, and allows her sweet noises to spill from her. “god y/n yes, just like that don’t stop”

I lick up her neck again before sucking on her ear lobe, earning a loud groan and a buck of her hips. I continue to suck for a moment before releasing and whispering in her ear, “i fucking love making you feel good baby” she closes her lips tightly again, humming as I speed up my circles. Her clit is even more swollen now, making it easier for me to add pressure to my touch. Billie’s breathing speeds up, It’s clear she's drunk off my touch, hypnotized by pleasure. I feel her legs begin to shake and I salivate, knowing I'm about to make her cum. I can’t take my eyes off of her and my mouth opens before I even have time to think about what I’m saying, “cum for me billie, moan my name and cum for me” that’s all it took before she grabbed the sheets hard, back arching off the bed and the sweet sounds of her orgasm filling the room. “y/nnn fuckkkkkkkkk” she yells out as her legs shake hard with my continued stimulation “that’s right baby let go for me, that feels good huh?” she nods her head rapidly and the moans coming out of her travel straight to my own pussy. As she comes down for the high I slow my circles, then remove my hand, already missing the contact I had her with. Her eyes open as I bring my fingers to my mouth, eager to taste her cum. I moan at the sweetness, never expecting it to taste so good and she smiles, watching me lick her wetness off of me with pure hunger.

I feel as if I must literally be glowing, so high from finally getting to please a woman, so high from getting to watch as I make Billie cum. I am so so gay, so fucking gay, gay for Billie specifically. I want to spread her legs and taste all of her, devour her and make her cum over and over again. I want all of it, all right now. Instead I lay my head on her chest, helping her resurface and give her love after her high. “You are so insanely beautiful Billie, I hope you know that” I kiss her cheek as the last of my words hit my lips. Billie’s breathing is heavy, trying to control it as she laughs to herself, clearly shocked at what just happened. “How are you so fucking good at that, have you secretly been fucking women for years?” Billie finally says. “Fuck I wish, I’m just flicking my bean constantly” I laugh out boldly, her giggles mixing with mine. “Mmmm well lucky you, and lucky me now too, you know what the fuck you’re doing y/n” she blushes at her words, hit with the memories of the state I had her in just a few moments ago. “maybe with my fingers yea, but don’t have such high hopes for the rest” I tell her honestly, expressing my continued nervousness of all of this. “We’ll see, we’ll see” she giggles as she kisses me, “seems like you’re a natural, whispering all that nasty shit in my ear while you make me feel like im fucking floating” I hide my face slightly embarrassed at her calling me out for my quite dirty words that came out so naturally. Never have I been a talker during sex, but it seems like everything is different with Billie.

“Bashful now, are ya?” Billie giggles as she slides out of the bed, kissing me on the forehead before walking into the bathroom. Taking off her wet shorts, she turns to face me in the doorway, her fully naked body now on display for me. She’s so confident, so comfortable showing herself to me, so easy about what all is going on between us suddenly. My eyes follow her curves as I stare at her body, not even trying to hide my inability to look away. My attraction for her is so intense it feels it could kill me. My love for her seems to be the same, but I don’t think I’m ready to let myself begin to process that just yet. As I continue to stare, eyes wide, a smile planted across my face, heart pounding in my chest, and between my legs, she just stands there and smiles. She giggles as she begins striking poses, goofing off like always. “Fuck I’m so gay” I almost shout, my eyes still glued to her body as Billie and I both laugh at my statement. “Alright gay girl, I’m getting in the shower, you coming in or not?” I hopped out of bed as soon as I heard her words, running into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me, behind us.

I kinda wanna make this a series… or a wattpad book 👀

#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie x reader

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nanasparadise · 3 years ago

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“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece!

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse.

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here, just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed. Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now.

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again.

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this.

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it.

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face.

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection.

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind.

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place.

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right?

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did.

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch.

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer.

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival.

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken.

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted.

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you.

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you.

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her.

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves.

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice.

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it.

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.”

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes.

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly.

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine.

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you.

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger.

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment.

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice.

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless.

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you!

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm.

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?”

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor.

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze.

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned.

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.”

Her grin gained a sinister note.

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #stone ocean #yandere jolyne #yandere jolyne x reader #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #tw: threats #tw: toxic relationship #tw: noncon kiss #tw: slight gore #tw: ear mutilation #tw: bullying #tw: prison #tw: insults #tw: violence #minors dni

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scuttle-buttle · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4

Previous chapters & additional tags can be found in my masterlist.

WC: 1457

Rated: E for eventual smut

Chapter tags: flirting, checking a person out/body parts, Ich bin speed

Your boss didn’t question you when you asked for the day off. “Take Friday too, si? You work too much!” he’d scold. That being said, the week dragged on. It had been slow to begin with, as your little team was waiting on a shipment of new pieces that got delayed.

Thursday finally arrived. You chugged down a cup of tea before hightailing it out the door. Your 1974 Alfa Romeo Spider purred to life; a gift from your parents when you finished college. Cranking the radio as high as you dared, you began the drive to the Ferrari garage.

Half an hour later you were pulling into the main lot. The blast of your radio announced your arrival. Finding a parking spot, you sang along “and she walked in looking like dyna-mite, she said ‘now come along boogaloo through the night!’” loudly.

The garage housing Niki’s F1 car was situated next to the lot on the other side of a fence. “Who the hell is playing that music?” he whipped his head up at the obnoxiously loud sound. The crew just shrugged. Looking up at the wall clock, he saw it was almost 10. Oh.

You had just parked the car and got ready to cut the engine when you noticed a figure approaching the fence. Seeing the mop of brown curls, you waved. Getting out of the car you took a breath. He just wants to talk shop, that’s all, you remind yourself.

“You’re very loud,” Niki stated as you reached the opposite side of the fencing.

“Says the man that has to wear earplugs to drive his car,” you snark.

“Fair. Come around, I’ll give you the tour.”

The facility was bigger than you anticipated. It housed a large office building in the front, with several garages and an entire test track off to the side. Niki led you into the garage he had come out of earlier.

“This is Andre, Luca, and Arturo. They are the chief mechanic crew for my car. You may have seen them in the pit.”

“How do you do?” you offered politely. They nodded their heads in your direction before leaving the two of you with the car. You walked around the vehicle, admiring the curved letters spelling Niki Lauda printed on the side. “What are the specs?” you ask Niki.

“Twelve cylinders, 500 horsepower, 12,500 RPM, 575kg.”

“Chassis frame?”

“Steel tubing with aluminium panels.”

“Sounds heavy...are you using magnesium parts?” you questioned.

Niki’s lips twitched into a barely-there smile as he watched you examine the car. “Yes.”

You nod, hands on your hips. “Well.” Shrugging, you admit “that’s about the extent of my knowledge, sorry to disappoint.” He let out a short chuckle.

“You know more than most. I’ve met mechanics that never even think to use magnesium parts.”

“Well I’m glad that I’ve impressed you, I suppose.” You continue to examine the car, leaning forward into the cockpit to check out the panel and gauges. Your shirt gapes down, exposing the top of your breasts.

Niki catches his breath at the sight before averting his eyes, not wanting to be rude. A first for him, to be considering the feelings of others. Thankfully you did not notice his gaze, nor the way his face reddened. He gave you another minute to inspect the car.

“Get in.”

You whipped up to face him in question. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he looked at you expectantly.

Carefully you step into the cockpit, lowering your body into the seat. You didn’t think you were allowed to be doing this, but if Niki says it’s okay… Legs stretched to the pedals, you settled in. “I didn’t realize you sat so laid back” you adjusted your bum in the seat, feet flat on the pedals and eyes just able to see above the dash.

Niki came up to the side of the car and leaned forward, his arms caged you, hands braced against the metal headrest and side panel. He pointed to the various gauges and explained their purposes. You felt his warm breath against your ear as his gruff voice spoke low. The smell of motor oil and something woodsy overwhelmed your senses.

He wouldn’t pretend that his actions were totally innocent. He was not big on public displays of affection, the handful of women he had dated over the years complained as much. But he could not deny the pull he felt towards you. Even in the short amount of time that he knew you he had already decided that he wanted to get to know you better. Besides, it’s not everyday that you meet a woman who was not only pretty, but knew about cars and took no shit from Hunt. Niki revelled in the soft floral scent of your hair - so different than the smell of burnt rubber he was accustomed to.

Swallowing, you tilted your head in the direction of his voice. You caught his brown eyes with your own. You didn’t think you would ever get used to the intensity of his stare. Breaking away you fidgeted with your hands before placing one on the gearshift, thumb caressing the knob.

“Have you taken it out yet? To test the adjustments?”

“Not yet. You may stay to watch if you would like,” he offered.

“Right on, yeah, let me just…” you pulled yourself out of the vehicle. Niki placed his fingers on your elbow as you stepped out to ensure you didn’t fall. His fingers were softer than you would have guessed for a driver.

Niki hopped in the car gracefully, as though he was made to sit there. “Do you mind?” he pointed to the desk along the wall. You retrieved the white protective mask and helmet and brought it to him. Holding the helmet as he pulled the covering over his face, your fingers traced along the edge of the Niki Lauda sticker. He reached to take it from you. After securing the helmet he warned you to cover your ears before starting the car. You were glad for his warning.

Switching into first gear, he released the clutch and let the car roll out of the garage and onto the track. He drove slow enough that you were able to keep up with him for the most part. Stopping at the edge of the track to watch, Niki got into position and called for one of the technicians to ready the stopwatch.

With a blast he shot off. He continued around the track for several laps testing the feel of the car. The rush of wind hit you each time he passed only meters from where you stood.. Finally coming to a stop he removed his headgear and nodded at you. “So?” you asked. “How does it feel?”

“Good. Arturo - I was correct, it was the rear springs that needed replacing.” Arturo wrote something in his notebook.

“How can you tell it was that? Something so small?” you wondered.

“My ass.”

“I’m sorry?” you blinked, not sure you heard him correctly.

“God gave me an okay mind, but a really good ass which can feel things in a car.”

Laughing, you weren’t sure what to make of his explanation. Perhaps I’ll just have to check it out myself, shocking yourself as your thoughts drift to his backside. You didn’t have to dwell on it too much because Niki got out of the car and bent over the cockpit to place his headgear inside. The loose material of his red coveralls tightened as he bent, giving you a taste of what he was working with. The uniform doesn't do him justice.

“What’s next on the list?” The two of you walked back to the garage.

“I have meetings with Enzo and some of the sponsor representatives at 12. Administrative dealings, really.” Sensing this was his way of telling you that your date was coming to an end - no, not a date - you gathered your bag on your shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you for letting me come by, this was cool.”

“Of course.”

Turning to leave, Niki called out to you. “Will you come to the next race?”

“I’m not sure, really.”

“You should.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied. You continued to stand there looking at him, and he you. Suddenly you decide to bite the proverbial bullet. Fetching a napkin from your bag and a pen - you always had a pen - you wrote down a set of digits. Thrusting it to Niki you say “maybe let me know when the next race is and I just might come.”

Niki took the slip from you, glancing at the numbers on it. You both knew that he could just tell you when and where the next race was now. But where was the fun in that?

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander

#sleeping with the enemy #swte scuttle-buttle #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda x reader #daniel bruhl niki lauda #niki x reader #niki lauda daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #rush 2013 #scuttle-buttle

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vigilantetendencies · 3 years ago

Text

Not Selfish

Author’s Note; This addition to the story took me a loooong time to try and work out the plot. I hope this does the story justice! Feedback is always appreciated.

Characters: Enzo “Nighthawk” Ricci, Alan Harper, Storm Vane

Warnings: Hinted spice, swears, etc.

The stacks of information never seemed to end, not that Alan was complaining. The steady stream of corrupt behavior to expose meant that Alan had a steady income as well- for the first time in a long time. He didn't dare to stop working, hardly able to enjoy the fruits of his labor while he was churning out articles. He would enter the office early in the day and leave late at night, bags under his eyes and sunlight gone before he’d even gotten to see it.

“Hey, Alan!” He paused as he exited the building, glancing over at one of the newscasters (and an old friend) Storm, waiting by a car. “Hey man, you look like you could use a drink. Me and the group from meteorology are going out for a few rounds on the big guy. You should come with!” Alan saw a wide smile plastered on Storm’s face, unable to help his own face from breaking out into a grin.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He followed Storm to one of the cars they were taking and slid into a seat, feeling slightly out of place but...free drinks sounded great.

It wasn’t long before he was tipsy and laughing at a dumb joke one of the others had made, cheeks red and soul light. When was the last time he felt so...at peace? Certainly it had been long before that ass hole Ricci had come around. He gave in to the pressure of shots, one of the small glasses in front of him before he could really object. No sense in wasting it, right? He and the others downed their respective shots and he watched the others’ faces contort in agony.

“This shit burns!”

“Harper didn’t even bat an eye, what a god!” He laughed along with them, stopping only to look at his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

[Unknown Number: Too busy partying to call?]

He had a feeling he knew who it was.

“I need to take this,” He told the others, words slurred slightly as he got up from the table.

“C’monnnn,” one of the girls whined. “All you do is work, Alan!”

“It’ll just be a minute, promise.” He left the room, to find a secluded, private one in the back.

“I’ll go make sure he isn’t too long,” Storm told them, winking at the girl. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check, you know.” He followed Alan, rounding the corner as he dialed something into his phone. “Hey.”

Alan looked at him like a deer in the headlights, not having made the call yet.

“We came out for drinks, put it away, Alan.” Storm grabbed his phone, towering over him.

“I didn’t mean to make you guys upset, it’s just-” It’s just what? Enzo “Nighthawk” Ricci, the villain that owned the town? That was going to go over well.

“Is it your boyfriend?”

Alan’s heart nearly stopped.

“My-What? I don’t have a boyfriend,” He insisted, puzzled.

“I guess I wouldn’t know that because you’ve had your nose constantly in your work lately,” Storm stated, almost with...jealousy? “Thought you had some love bites all over your neck a few weeks ago. Must have been mistaken.”

The way he said that sure didn’t sound like a mild observation. It sounded like an accusation.

“I had a run in with a lead. Didn’t like me being there, they threw me around a bit-” Alan’s phone buzzed in Storm’s hand.

[Unknown Number: I’m coming to find you if you don’t call soon.]

“Hey, don’t read my texts,” Alan snapped, reaching for his phone and stumbling into Storm. Storm only held the phone higher, eyes narrowed as he held up his drunk companion. Briefly Alan noted that Storm was not at all as drunk as he had seemed in the bar area- and Alan was...hardly able to keep himself upright, let alone get his phone back.

“Not a boyfriend, huh? Girlfriend? One night stand?” Storm continued to glare down at Alan who was having a hard time understanding the line of questions. “A few weeks ago I was the only person worth all of this dedication. You and I went out for drinks all the time, we worked on segments and articles together… And I don’t like losing you to someone else.”

“Losing...me?” There was movement- He was moving- Pushed into one of the booths in the dimly lit back room. He blinked up at Storm who was already halfway over him, knee between his legs.

“I don’t know who’s coming to find you but I hope they like the show.”

His phone was forgotten, Storm shoving him down and jamming his tongue into his mouth. Too reminiscent of Ricci, yet there was a gentleness behind Storm’s actions- Actual consideration. And even if this had been a totally unwarranted ordeal in the beginning the alcohol was clouding Alan’s judgement and he was moaning into the kiss. His arms wrapped around Storm’s shoulders as he arched upward, pressing his groin to Storm’s in need---

"I'd hate to interrupt, but I need the reporter that’s currently grinding on you,” a low and all too familiar voice demanded, jarring Alan out of his haze. He pushed Storm away, the man only sitting back, still straddling Alan whose eyes were wide as he looked past him at none other than Enzo.

The large man strode over and easily plucked Storm off of Alan, throwing the reporter over his shoulder. "Actually...I didn't hate that at all. Keep your hands on your own property, kid."

Storm watched as Enzo sauntered right back out the way he entered, Alan lifting his head for his bleary eyes to meet his gaze.

"You didn't fucking buy me," Alan yelled in irritation, tearing away from Storm's eyes.

"No, you gave yourself to me willingly," Enzo snapped back, then loud enough for Storm to hear he added, "Or was you begging me to fuck you just tactile self preservation?"

Storm felt anger swirl in his gut as he watched the two exit the bar, mood sour as he came back to the table.

"Hey, where's Alan?"

"He's looking into a lead," Storm lied.

---

Alan made a pained noise as he was quite literally thrown into Enzo's car, sprawled out in the back seat.

"Do you mind?" Alan spat, scrambling to sit up while Enzo slid in beside him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Kidnapping you. And what were you doing?" Enzo was calm, just as he was last time. He hardly even spared Alan a glance, pressing a cigarette to his lips.

"I was out getting drinks-"

"Ah, is that what that was?" Alan floundered.

"That- that wasn't supposed to happen," he confessed awkwardly. "Why does it matter to you-?” He could see Enzo looking at him out of the corner of his eye and he swallowed hard. He was in for a world of hurt, wasn’t he?

One car ride and one henchmen-led walk later Alan was shoved into the massive chair behind Enzo’s desk, gripping the armrests to try and correct the way he landed.

“Where is your place?” Enzo towered over him, looking down at him like he was nothing. “Where is your place, Alan Harper?”

He was towering over him, asking him questions they both knew the answers to.

“Beneath you,” Alan answered finally, his prior lesson from Enzo not forgotten.

“Who owns you?”

“You do.” Enzo’s glower worsened. “You do, Enzo. I belong to you.”

“Then what was that?” Each word was said with such conviction, demanding a suitable answer.

Alan opened his mouth to respond and closed it, the alcohol long worn off and mind dull. He didn’t have any funny quips.

“Dumb. It was dumb.” Truth be told, he didn’t think that Enzo was ever going to come find him again, but that didn’t play into what happened. He couldn’t help that Storm was a close and trusted friend, though it was his own fault for drinking enough to stop caring about what he was doing and where. As a reporter he knew that appearances were everything.

“And what punishment do you think that deserves?”

He had no response, cowering back in the chair.

“Or, do you think that your friend deserves to be punished for taking advantage of you like that?”

“No! I drank too much, I let myself get carried away, that isn’t his fault-!”

Enzo bent down to meet Alan’s gaze finally, emotionless as he looked his little reporter over.

“I value you for your willingness to tell the truth, Alan Harper. I let you live because you’re witty and I found you again because you’re cute. But if you lie to me I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head.” He grabbed Alan’s chin, eyes harder than before. “You wanted him to fuck you, didn’t you?” Alan felt a cold sweat break out over his body; this question was a death sentence. But as usual he prided himself on being blunt and honest.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully and Enzo let go of him roughly, turning and heading to the door of the office. “Wait!” Alan rushed to get out of the chair, running after Enzo with the intention of catching him- stopping him- but his henchmen grabbed Alan’s arms, holding him back. “Where are you going!?” The henchmen began to drag Alan away as Enzo exited the building all together.

It felt like a thousand eternities that Alan was stuck in the same bedroom as last time he was here, pacing from wall to wall until someone came to release him.

“Dinner is ready,” the woman told him, making him sputter.

“I’ve been waiting for dinner? Dinner!? That’s it!?” She said nothing, gesturing for Alan to follow her down the hall. He did so, knowing full well that not complying could mean a whole lot worse than...last time.

He entered the dining room and stopped dead, eyes wide as he found Enzo sitting across from Storm.

“Sit,” Enzo instructed without looking at him, pulling the chair directly next to himself out. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” he added before Alan could even open his mouth. Alan sat down, keeping his eyes on the table as food was set in front of him.

“I appreciate the fancy food and all of that, but what’s the deal?” Storm asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I’m not stupid, you brought me here because you’re mad that I was trying to get in his pants. You didn’t blackmail me into coming here to ask me what my favorite color is. Is this a hit?”

“That wouldn’t make Alan here very happy.” Both Alan and Storm looked at Enzo in surprise. “I don’t suppose paying you off will work?”

“Paying him off-?” Alan repeated. “Paying him off for what!?”

“Not a chance,” Storm responded immediately, as if there was some prior conversation that Alan hadn’t been aware of. The two other men were having an intense stare down, and Alan was not sure he even cared to try and understand at this point. He opted instead to eat, avoiding looking at either one of them. He was sure there were some strong glares before the two of them also began to eat, making for the most awkward yet astounding dinner that Alan had ever had the pleasure to take part in.

The end was near, he hoped, as their plates were cleared and Enzo leaned forward onto the table.

“I’m not giving you permission to take him away,” Enzo stated boldly. “But I’m not a selfish man.” That last statement made Alan’s stomach flip. What was it supposed to mean-?

“I tend to believe I’m not selfish, either,” Storm added, and Alan felt those hazy eyes on him. “And I know that he isn’t exactly hard to convince.”

Wait-

Alan looked up.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Enzo agreed. “Then I think we have understanding.” Suddenly Storm was at Alan’s side, pushing his chair back.

“I think we do.” It felt like Alan had been thrown to the wolves, hungry eyes on him as he looked up at Storm then Enzo.

Questions rose to his mind but he found them drowned out when Storm grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a rough kiss as Enzo sat back, sipping on whiskey as he watched Storm dominate the kiss, Alan whimpering at the force of it.

Alan reacted to the means which Enzo used against him- reacted to being owned, controlled, and utterly helpless. It was interesting to see how he reacted to Storm, already so pent up yet so obedient still to Enzo as he pulled away when Storm broke the kiss to breathe, looking at Enzo as if to gauge what his punishment would be.

"Don't worry, I'll take my turn after."

And that was a promise.

Thanks for reading! Again, I’m open to requests and continuations of everything. If I’ve told you I’ll continue something then don’t you worry, I’ll get to it soon! I struggled a little today to keep up with what I wanted to produce and I intended to work on so much more than this.

If you’re interested in catching up with my other stories I have a master list here.

If you’re feeling generous you can Buy Me a Coffee; I’d be so grateful, but there is absolutely no pressure. My content and my characters are free to enjoy!

Do you have a request you want filled? Want a prompt answered? Want a snippet? I’m open to all requests assuming they follow the general idea of “Bad guy vs good guy.”

#hero #heroes #hero x villain #villain #villains #mafia #reporter #reporter x villain #villain x reporter #writing #writeblr #story #stories #superhero #supervillain #OC #original characer

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

An Artful Revenge Pt. 2

Feyre’s part of The Damnation Series. Part 1 is here.

I am proud of myself for finishing this shit, because it’s long as fuck. Whoops.

~Feyre~

Honestly, I should’ve known.

I should’ve known that somehow, with whatever endless resources he has, he would find me.

That’s all I can think as I find my way into the Impressionists exhibit and find Rhysand Azara, real estate agent to the stars, leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee and looking at Dancers in Blue with narrowed eyes.

It’s been five days since our date, and like the cliché I am, I’ve spent the entire time thinking about him. I’ve checked my phone countless times, and I even decided to stalk him and Googled his name.

When--just like he’d said--nothing came up, I googled Dancers in Pink. He said he had it, but it had been sold a few years ago in an auction to “Amren Valenta.”

Unless Rhysand had a stage name, that was definitely not him.

I dug some more, but after three hours all I discovered was that he owned Azara Industries, which owned a lot of buildings downtown. Oh, and he never let himself be photographed.

Which was upsetting, because it means I had nothing to stare at whilst stalking him.

Pathetic. I am so pathetic.

But anyway, I should’ve known he’d come here. He’d said he’d call, but he didn’t have my number. Plus, I’d told him I come here pretty much every day, so really, what did I expect?

I still laugh as I spot him though, somehow surprised, and ask, “Here to flirt with more art students?”

“Just one,” he answers, running his eyes over me as I draw closer.

Gods, this man is seductive. He’s just looking at me, but I feel his gaze like a touch, dragging over my entire body with slow, intentional grazes.

My breath hitches, and his eyes twinkle, like he’s well aware to the dirty place my mind has wondered. I can tell he’s holding in some likely-male comment, but he refrains from embarrassing me and he holds out another cup of coffee.

I take it, grateful for the caffeine boost, and find it somehow made exactly the way I like it. Maybe I’m not the only one stalking.

Although his methods have to be better than mine if he already knows about the definitely unhealthy amount of sugar I put in my coffee.

“How many times have you been here this week?” I ask, curious to see his level of devotion.

“Three. Not a very convenient way of communicating with someone, I admit. I was about to send a smoke signal.” He watches me sip the coffee, watches my tongue dart over my lip. “Plans tonight?”

I fight a sigh and decide to be a student worthy of my scholarship for once. “I told myself I’d work on my senior project.”

His lips twitch at my dejected tone. “What is it?”

A ginormous pain in my ass. “Bad,” I say simply.

He shakes his head, sipping his coffee and eyeing me over the rim of the cup. “Details.”

For someone who offers no information, he loves demanding it from me. Instead of fight it, I groan and give in to the patriarchy. “It’s just bad! It’s supposed to be a mix of different styles and mediums, but it’s going so poorly I might just start over. Or drop out and become a starving artist a year ahead of schedule.”

Rhysand smiles at my phrasing. “I would never let you starve. And what do you mean, mixing styles and mediums?”

“For someone who frequents museums and has millions of dollars in art, you don’t know much about it, do you?”

“I have people for that.”

“Amren Valenta?” I ask without thinking, exposing myself as a stalker.

He pauses, cup halfway to his smirking mouth, and raises a brow. “Clever, creepy little woman,” he teases. “But yes. Amren is my curator, and we use her name because I don’t want media attention. As I’m sure you know.”

Busted and blushing to high hell, I roll my eyes and become a junior detective. “Isn’t it illegal to buy something with someone else’s name? What if the IRS comes after you?”

Rhysand looks at a loss for words at that. If I weren’t serious, it would make me laugh how shocked he looks. “I guess,” he says after a moment, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

I roll my eyes again, because we both know he doesn’t give a shit. It’s not like the IRS actually enforces rules for the one percent, anyway.

“Now tell me about your project.”

Rolling my eyes at how bossy he is, I tell him, “I wanted to combine photography and painting. And I wanted it to be kind of abstract, but also realistic enough.”

“Ambitious.”

I sigh, not able to repress it this time. “Stupid, is what it is. I don’t even know where to start. I have no motivation, let alone inspiration, to work on it.”

A contemplative look crosses his face. “I know where you could find inspiration.”

I raise an eyebrow and gesture around us, because in case he’s missed it, we’re in a museum. Inspiration abounds. But he scoffs and whispers, “This is child’s play compared to a certain someone’s private collection.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, playing along and pretending I don’t know the someone he’s talking about.

He nods, looking around as if making sure there are no spies in the completely empty room listening we’re standing in. “He has Degas, Monet, Dali, you name it. And he’s generous enough to let you come over tonight.”

Pursing my lips, I scan his face, trying to see if he’s serious. I mean... I am dying to see his collection. But, “Is this just a ploy to get me naked?”

He puts a hand on his chest, offense written across his face. “You think I’d try to seduce you while you study?”

“Yes.”

“You’re probably right.” He chuckles, then says, “If you need to get naked to look at art, I certainly won’t complain. But no, Feyre darling, this isn’t a ploy.”

I pause, half stuck on the whole darling thing and half contemplating what to do.

Ploy or not, I know that if I go to his apartment or house or mansion or castle, I’ll probably sleep with him. He’s too attractive, and my resolve just isn’t that great where’s he’s concerned.

Plus, I know it’s insane, but art just... Never mind.

I tell myself nothing’s going to happen and that I’m going because of the art--both lies--as I say, “Okay.”

He extends a hand, and I slide mine into it, almost sighing at how perfect we fit together. Would that be the case everywhere?

Feyre.

I avoid looking at him as he leads me from the room and outside, where a very beefy guy holds open the door to a black sedan. “Seriously?” I ask Rhysand as he ushers me in the back, then climbs in beside me.

“I usually drive myself,” he says in defense, smiling when I roll my eyes.

The city blurs around us as Beefcakes drives, and I’m about to ask where the hell he lives when the car pulls to a stop and the door opens. Climbing out, I look up at the black, shiny penthouse tower, and say, “Of course you live here.”

It’s expensive and in the city and has a million floors, and I bet he lives at the very tippy top.

He gives me a strange look but pulls me in the lobby, then into an elevator. We shoot up flight after flight till we reach the penthouse, confirming my suspicions.

For what feels like the millionth time, I ask myself why the hell Rhysand’s taken an interest in me. I mean, a year of therapy got me to admit I’m decent looking and all, but I’m... I’m a college student. He’s older and richer and has his life together. Why does he want me?

I don’t have long to contemplate life’s great mysteries because the elevator doors slide open, revealing his apartment, and I become too busy trying to mask my surprise.

I thought the place would be... I don’t know, like him. Sleek. Modern. Luxurious.

And it is, at least that last part. Everything is obviously expensive. But there’s also a homey quality created by a fireplace, plush couches, decorative rugs, tapestries.

It’s burgundy and black and cream, and so unexpected I smile.

I step in and walk automatically toward the huge windows, taking in the view and realizing we’re at the dead center of the city. In all directions, Chicago’s spread out, lights and traffic and Lake Michigan surrounding us.

Even though the place is beyond wonderful, there’s one thing missing.

I turn to Rhysand and raise a brow. “No art?”

“One floor down.”

I have to press my lips together to keep the questions in. One floor down, as in it takes up the whole floor. As in he has a private museum. As in I’m so fucking excited I can hardly walk.

But he seems to be baiting me, seeing how long I’ll last before demanding to be taken down there, so I casually walk around his apartment, taking in all the little details. “It’s more... lived in than I would’ve thought.”

He nods, knowing what I mean even though it was a poor way of explaining it. “I have a few places around the city, but this is the one I prefer.” Nodding to the kitchen, he asks, “Hungry?”

“You cook?” The thought of him covered in flour seems absurd, but we all have our hobbies.

He smiles like I’ve said something funny. “No, but I have takeout menus in there.”

“Hopeless,” I tease, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge like I’m the one who lives here. “I’ll find something.”

I end up finding beer, wine, cheese, and various fruits and vegetables.

Not a lot, but enough to make a charcuterie board, which just so happens to be my specialty. I search for a few minutes before finding a wooden cutting board, then start to assemble whatever snacks I can find.

Cherries and grapes, two types of cheeses, carrots, and crackers fill most of the board, and I fill in gaps with blackberries and chocolate chips I’m surprised he has.

Once it’s completed and visually appealing enough, I slide it over to where he’s seated on a barstool and bow dramatically. “I’m a master cheese plate maker.”

“I see that. Wine?”

Nodding, I reach in the fridge and grab the first bottle I see. Setting it in front of him, I move to the cabinet and get two glasses and an opener.

Rhysand takes the opener and eyes the bottle, lips twitching as he smoothly uncorks it.

“What?” I ask, unable to figure out what’s funny. Was it weird to make a board or something? Surely even rich guys like cheese and crackers, right?

He pours two glasses, shaking his head and silently refusing to let me in on the joke.

Eyes narrowed, I sit next to him and suspiciously take a small sip from my glass. He watches me, probably expecting me to say something about it, so I offer, “It’s good.”

He bites his lip but can’t keep the laugh in at that, so I finally demand, “What?”

“It’s an $800 bottle of wine, Feyre.”

I almost spit it all over him, which would indeed be a shame, because there’s probably $50 in my mouth. Managing to swallow it down, I sputter, “You... you should’ve said something!”

He’s still laughing, but he stops to take a huge swallow and shrug. “I say we drink the whole bottle.”

I put my head in my hands, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I couldn’t care less.” He pries my hands away. “Seriously. I just wanted to tease you.”

Now that, I believe. But I still ask, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiles, taking another sip. “I keep the really expensive stuff at the townhouse, anyway.”

I roll my eyes and drink some more, somehow trying to taste it better or something now that I know it’s liquid gold. Shifting to put my foot on the stool, I lean across him to grab the platter.

His gaze glides over me slowly, and there’s surprise in his eyes, like he can’t believe I’m sitting in front of him so casually.

It’s probably weird to be so... open around a stranger, but he’s not exactly normal, so I don’t feel any pressure to be, either.

Regardless, it’s a little hard to breathe with him looking at me like that, so to break the tension, I grab a cherry, pull the stem off, and hold it an inch in front of his face.

“Ready?”

His eyes cross and he pushes my hand away so he can actually see what I’m holding. “Ready,” he confirms.”

I stick the stem in my mouth, using a trick I spent three hours teaching myself on a rainy afternoon to tie it in a knot, then pull it out with a victorious grin.

“Very impressive,” he notes, but before I can gloat about my supreme cherry-knotting abilities, he steals the stem and sticks it in his own mouth.

My eyes are wide, but I don’t have time to ask what the hell he’s doing before he pulls it out.

Unknotted.

“Impressive,” I repeat, actually meaning it. “How’d you do that?”

“I’m good with my tongue,” he says immediately, obviously having been lying in wait for the question, and I huff a laugh.

If I called my sisters and told them what I’m going right now, they’d probably try to have me committed. I’m sitting in a billionaire’s penthouse apartment, drinking expensive wine and watching him untie cherry stems with his tongue.

“How was your week?” I ask to get us back in semi-normal territory, grabbing a cracker off the plate.

He answers vaguely and asks me about mine, and just like that, we fall into easy conversation.

It’s honestly strange to me that after one date, we can talk like this. With my ex, it took weeks before I was really comfortable around him, and yet I feel completely at home with Rhysand.

He tells he’s from the south side of Chicago and asks about my hometown, and I it feels natural. It’s just... easy.

“By the way, you can just call me Rhys,” he tells me as we finish off the platter. “Using my full name reminds me of when I got in trouble in grade school.”

I drain my wine glass, a slight buzz in my veins, and ask, “So I only call you Rhysand when I’m about to spank you?”

He howls with laughter, then surprises me by asking, “What’s your middle name?”

“Adalene. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out what I’ll call you when we get around to spanking.” I blush as he continues, “Feyre Adalene should do.”

He puts the empty wine bottle in the trash and runs a finger over my red cheek. I bat it away, embarrassed, but he just laughs and asks, “Ready to go downstairs?”

For some reason, I get a little nervous, but I put on my big girl pants and nod, taking his hand when he offers it.

Then we’re back in the elevator, coasting down a floor, and just before the doors open, he says, “Close your eyes.”

Anticipation makes it difficult to follow the request but I manage, and he guides me out of the elevator and turns me slightly. “Open.”

I open my eyes and come face to face with something I never thought I’d see.

“You... you have a...” I whisper, not quite able to get the word out.

“Meule.”

One of eight left in private collectors hands, Monet’s Meules--or Grainstacks--are some of the most recognizable, renown works of art in the world. The last was sold four years ago for over $80 million.

Amren Valenta is a very, very rich woman, according to her art collection.

I’m standing inches from it now, mildly unsure of how that happened, looking at the sunset colors bleed into the shadows of the grain, taking in the easy lines and brushwork.

Turning to look at him, I see he’s leaned against the wall next to the painting, head tilted as if I’m the most interesting thing in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m here right now,” I say honestly, my voice airy and light.

He just smiles and motions to my right. “The collection goes in a loop.”

I nod, and after a few more minutes staring at the Monet, I start to walk.

Or more like mosey.

If he’s irritated with how long I’m taking, he doesn’t mention it. He follows me as I stare after pieces of art I never dreamed of being close to. Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Klimt, Pollock, Munch.

And then, at the edge of my peripheral, I see it.

Dancers in Pink hangs besides a smaller Degas, but it’s all I can look at. The dancer’s skirts are so bright in person, the tulle layers seeming to come off the canvas. The gold in the background is vibrant and metallic, in sharp contrast with the dark wall it hangs on.

Gods, it’s beautiful.

I know there are more famous paintings in here, but I’ve spent three years going to look at Dancers in Blue, never imagining I’d see one a similar work.

Tears slide down my face and a laugh bubbles out of me, the two reactions complete opposites but both somehow feeling right.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and I feel Rhysand’s chin settle on my shoulder as he hugs me from behind. “You know,” he whispers, seeming to not want to disrupt my moment with loud noises, “I never understood how important this is to people.”

“Oh, Rhysand. It’s... wonderful.”

It’s an inadequate way to say what I want to say, but it’s all I can come up with at the moment. I lean into him, and we stand like that, me staring at the painting, him at me, for a long while.

When I start to get tired, I turn in his embrace, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and kiss him softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I somehow finish the loop, and by the time we’re in the elevator again, I’m so emotionally spent I can’t hardly breathe.

“Inspired?” he questions, linking our hands and pulling me closer to his side.

I nod, but inspired doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m grateful and overwhelmed and so happy I could burst.

A professor once told me that art is a gift that lasts forever and never stops giving, and I never really understood what she meant until now. Over a hundred years after Dancers in Pink was completed, it still brings people to tears.

It’s a powerful and beautiful and eternal way to send a message, and it makes me feel like a small piece of the puzzle, but at the same time, so important and alive.

We glide smoothly back up to his apartment, but neither of us move once the doors ding open.

Because technically, there’s no longer a reason for me to be here.

I’ve seen the art, drank his expensive wine. I should get my bag and go.

I should... but I don’t want to.

Rhysand’s perfectly quiet and still beside me, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind.

The angel on my shoulder tells me how sweet and considerate he’s being. The devil tells me to reward this behavior with a few sinful ideas.

Running a hand through my hair, I debate my options. Be smart and leave, or stay and try and fight the urge to throw myself at him.

“Oh, fuck it,” I mutter, dramatically taking a step forward like I’m going into war.

He laughs as he follows me off the elevator, strolling back to the kitchen. “More wine?”

I nod, because at this point, I’m already a lost cause. He opens a new bottle and pours me some. “How much was this one?”

“Ten dollars,” he lies, fighting a smile. “On sale at Walmart.”

“I’m surprised you even know what Walmart is,” I laugh, taking my seat back at the bar.

“You forget I’m from the south side. All this,” he motions around us, as he takes the seat next to me. “Used to be nothing more than a dream.”

“How’d you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious. Most people with his kind of wealth were born into it and given every advantage possible. “What’d you do?”

He looks down at the floor, but there’s a sudden set of his jaw, a tightness in his shoulders. “Whatever I had to.”

I don’t point out he’s given me yet another non-answer. Instead I say simply, “I find working for something makes you value it more, anyway.”

His eyes find me again, and there’s something I can’t read in his gaze. “Yes, it does. And it makes you do whatever it takes to keep it.”

I swallow and nod slowly, trying to figure out what exactly he means.

He takes a deep breath, then drinks the wine in his glass in a single swallow. There’s a story there, and it’s easy to see it burdens him, but it’s his to tell in his own time.

Just to get that strain out of his gaze, I switch topics completely. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out how you untied that damn cherry stem.”

Rhysand smiles, a full one that showcases all his pretty little teeth, and leans in, the intent clear in his eyes.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” he whispers.

I press my lips to his and open them immediately--for the lesson, of course--and his tongue meets mine in a slow glide.

Where our first kiss was all heat and drifting hands, this one’s slow and sensual and like ice cream melting on a summer day.

His mouth fits mine perfectly, and his hands seem to be made to hold me, sliding up my thighs to settle on my hips. The hair at his nape is soft against my fingers, and I lean on the stool to get closer and wrap my arms around his neck.

I suck on his tongue, and he makes a low sound, then his hands are tightening and lifting, and I’m being settled on his lap.

Both of us on one stool isn’t ideal, but I wrap my legs around his waist and hope we don’t go crashing over.

Gravity comes into play and I start sliding, so he turns the stool and traps between him and the counter. The granite digs into my spin, but I can’t be bothered to care, because the new position gives his hands freedom to roam again, and he slides them over my thighs, across my ass, up my sides.

His thumbs brush the sides of my breasts, and they become heavy and aching against his chest.

His mouth slowly drags down to my neck, and I sigh as he finds that one spot that drives me crazy. His nips the skin, tongue smoothing the small hurt, and his name slips out of me in a quiet moan.

Everything seems to change at once.

Cursing creatively, he sweeps me into his arms and stands, then walks us into his living room and plops onto a plush couch.

My ADHD kicks in and I’m momentarily distracted by how soft the leather is, but then his tongue runs across the seam of my lip and I snap back into focus.

My hips are churning against him, desperate for some friction, and I kiss him without restraint, abandoning our slow, peaceful rhythm from earlier. I hadn’t realized I’d been working on the buttons of his shirt, but then a band of tan skin is exposed, and I dip my head to press my lips against it.

He tugs my hair to bring my mouth back to his, and I practically attack him, biting his lip and pulling his hair and generally acting like a depraved cavewoman.

He doesn’t complain, though. His hands drag my hips closer, then slip under the hem of my sweater.

The scrape of his callouses on my sides snaps me back to the shocking reality where I’m--yet again--making out with a man I hardly know, and I gasp, then curse, then practically jump backwards off his lap.

Standing in front of him, I put a hand over my mouth like that’ll stop me from using it and look him over.

He’s all sprawling legs and swollen lips and beautiful eyes, and I force my eyes to the ceiling. “You look like a hot, virginal dork I just deflowered in the back of my minivan,” I tell him.

“I feel a bit like that,” he laughs, running a thumb over his bruised lips almost in shock. “Although it’s always nice to be desired.”

I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so distracted by him looking so thoroughly messy.

But I know that despite what just happened, I can’t do this with him yet.

I mean, I definitely could, and it definitely would be enjoyed by all parties involved, but I would regret it.

Rhysand isn’t someone I can just sleep with and forget. I’ve known him a week, and I already feel a strange sort of bond with him.

If we slept together, then never spoke again, it would hurt me more than I’d care to admit.

“I think I should leave.”

He nods like he was expecting this, but asks, “Why?”

Putting my hands on my hips, I repeat what I said earlier. “Working for something makes you value it more, remember?”

He smiles and stands, taking a minute to straighten the clothes I’d pawed out of place.

“It also makes you do whatever it takes to keep it,” he reminds me, a shiver sweeping over me at the words. “Come on; I’ll walk you out.”

We go to the elevator and stay on opposite ends the entire ride down. I’m a little proud, because I most certainly thought about crossing over to his half.

Stepping outside, Rhysand motions for Beefcakes to open the door. “He’ll drive you home.”

“Thank you,” I say, starting towards the car.

I take two whole steps before he’s somehow in front of me, blocking the path. “Two more things.”

He kisses me, gently but firmly, then pulls back and slips a piece of paper in my hand. “It’s your turn to send smoke signals.”

I look down at the paper and see a number written in a slashing scrawl, intelligently putting together that it’s his phone number. I look back up to respond, but he’s already back at the entrance to the building.

Rhysand looks over his shoulder, winks, and disappears inside.

I get in the SUV and tell Beefcakes my address, and off we go. I study the piece of paper the entire way there, mind reeling with everything that happened today.

The easy conversation, the art, the kiss.

Is this how it feels to be swept off your feet?

And how long, exactly, do I have to wait before calling him?

________________________________________________

This took me so long to edit holy FUCK. Part 3

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @alpha-omegas @joyceortiz13 @sapphic-beauty @meowsekai @ahappyhistorianreader

#feyre #feysand #feysand fanfiction #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #feyre archeron

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levis-hazelnut · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): suggestions of sex. please do tell me if there are anymore.

Taglist (closed): @castellandiangelo @fandom-addict19 @20coldhearts

Status: completed

part 10 > part 11 > part 12 (final)

series masterlist

(a/n: sorry this is me just being thirsty for levi, it’s completely self indulgent and barely has a plot)

I think what I’m about to tell you right now is probably one of the biggest surprises.

So, you know how both of my relationships never lasted longer than five months? Well, my relationship with Levi has been going on for eleven months now. Almost a whole year. Which means I’ve been living in heaven for the past eleven months.

This man is just amazing in every way possible (but please don’t tell him I said this because he’s going to piss me off). He can pretend that he doesn’t care about anything all he wants because I know how much of a sweetheart he actually is, and I hate him for making me fall even more in love with him.

And another reason why I hate him is because--

That god awful sound of my ringtone screamed into my ear and I knew who it was, seeing as how there was only one person who would call me at eight a.m. on a Saturday.

With a few grumbled curses, I blindly reached for my phone and answered it, “What?”

“Good morning to you, too, darlin’.”

“For god’s sake, just tell me what you want. I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’d like for you to get your ass out of bed since our exam starts in less than twenty minutes.”

... Wasn’t it the weekend?

“... Excuse me? Exam? Since when?”

“Look at your calendar, please, you idiot.”

“I may or may not have put it into my calendar because I relied on you,” I muttered, jumping out of bed and scrambling to find some clothes before quickly brushing my teeth and trying to fix my bed head.

“Also, stop by at the café before you come. I want tea.”

“Are you fucking dumb? I’m not stopping to get you tea when I’ll already be late.”

“It’s on the way. It’ll only add a couple of minutes to your journey.”

“If I’m late, I swear I’m going to--”

“It won’t be my fault if you’re late. Thank you for getting me tea. Love you. Bye.”

He cut the phone before I could even reply and I rolled my eyes, slamming the apartment door behind me as I rushed down the stairs and made my way to the café to get Levi his precious tea since I’m such a loving girlfriend.

With a shrill ring of the bell above the door, my arrival was announced as I looked to the counter to see Eren talking to Levi, with a cup of tea in his hands.

I frowned, marching towards them to slap the back of the raven’s head.

“What the hell?” he spat, flicking my forehead in retaliation.

“What happened to getting you tea, so I can be late to the exam?”

“There is no exam, darlin’.”

“What do you mean? Why did you tell me that there was an exam? Why would you make me lose precious hours of sleep?”

“Seeing as how you don’t remember, I’ll remind you. Last night you asked me to help you study. For the exams. But I didn’t think you’d get out of bed for our study session.”

“Stop knowing me so well and let me sleep. Now, you have to buy me a cof--” I cut myself off when he presented a hot cup to me and the aroma of coffee wafted around my nose, calming me down after I took a sip. “Thank you, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied before turning to the male with turquoise orbs. “Thanks for the drinks.”

“No problem. I also cleared a table in the corner for you guys, so that you wouldn’t get too distracted.”

“Aw, thank you, Eren,” I grinned. “Come on, let’s get this shit over with,” I huffed, dragging the raven towards the table, where we both sat down, and he took things out of his bag before tucking it under the table.

“What do you want to focus on?” he asked, and then glancing at me when I didn’t respond because I was too busy focusing on the black t-shirt he was wearing. Perfectly fitted around his arms, tight around his torso and pecs, exposing the ripples that I love to run my fingers over. And he was wearing a couple of silver rings on his hands, and I didn’t think he’d be able to look more attractive.

“... You,” I replied to his question with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes.

“I will walk out of this café if you don’t stop staring at me like a freaking weirdo and if you don’t pay attention to what I’m saying.”

“But I’m tired,” I whined, facepalming the table.

“That’s not my fault.”

“I will fucking kill you, Levi. You were the one that decided to call me for five hours last night. And the one who thought it’d be a wonderful idea to wake me up at eight in the morning.”

“... Fine. We don’t have to start straight away,” he told me, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, causing his biceps to bulge even more.

“Don’t sit like that.”

“Why?” he questioned, raising a single brow.

“Because I’m sure you don’t want to get fucked in a café.”

“Why are you always so horny, you freak?”

“You’re asking me that question while looking like that?” I scoffed with the roll of my eyes. “The audacity.”

“Just drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

“I will. By the way, do we have to stay in here? Can we go to the library or somewhere quieter?”

“Why? So you can fuck me?”

“No, you idiot. I just won’t be able to concentrate with all these people.”

“But you’ll get too sleepy if it’s quiet.”

“True,” I mumbled. “Okay, then. Just give me like half an hour and I should be ready to study.”

“What am I going to do for thirty minutes?”

“Maybe talk to your girlfriend, smartass,” I retorted, laying my head on the table again, squishing my cheek against it. There was no response, so the only sounds were the chatter of customers, glass clinking, and air conditioning because of the sweltering weather. I glanced at my boyfriend, wondering why he was silent, only to find that he was gazing at me. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” was his reply, which was unusual, before he took a sip of his tea.

“What are you thinking about?”

“About how we ended up here. Together. In a relationship.”

A tender smile conquered my lips as I reached my hand out for his, interlocking our fingers. “Thank you, Levi. For loving me like no one else did. And no matter how much you get on my nerves, I’m always going to appreciate you being here for me.”

“I’m not good with this shit, so yeah, same thing goes to you,” he said awkwardly, causing me to laugh.

“Can’t believe it’s going to be our one-year anniversary in about two weeks.”

“Going to be a year since I entered hell.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, kicking his shin, despite knowing he was joking.

“... You know what, let’s just go,” the raven-haired male randomly stated, standing up and gently tugging on my hand as our fingers were still intertwined. To my one-word question of: “Where?” he replied, “I don’t know, but I don’t feel like it’s day that we should study. We have plenty of time for that, so let’s do something.”

My hues shone brightly as I grinned and gladly accepted his offer, getting out of my seat and grabbing my coffee as he packed his things away prior to leading me out of the stuffy building, bidding farewell to Eren.

“Let’s go to your place. We’ll make breakfast, have it on the balcony, and do whatever after.”

“'Kay, then. But can we slip in a nap after breakfast because I’m still tired?” I requested.

“Of course.”

So, we made way to mine and Hanji’s apartment, relieved that I didn’t have to study all day today and could simply relax with the raven. That fact made me smile a little as I unlocked the door to the apartment, stepping inside and kicking my shoes off as Levi did the same, following you to your bedroom.

“Ten minutes, please. Then, we begin our date,” I sighed, plopping down onto my bed and he made himself comfortable, shifting my head onto his lap. Then, his slender digits began to soothingly drift through my tresses that were completely tangled, so he had gently unknotted my hair to make it easier to run his fingers through it.

“Remind me to never wake you up this early on a weekend again.”

“I always tell you, asshole. And you never listen to me.”

“Well, I’ve finally learnt my lesson. So, hush.”

After my ten-minute rest, I went to splash my face with water to wake me up a little, while Levi was in the kitchen, preparing everything for breakfast, seeing as how the only thing he ate for breakfast was tea and toast, and I only had coffee.

“Hey, darlin’, what do you want to eat?”

“Mmm, maybe crepes... Let me help.”

So, in the next forty minutes, I ended up with flour on my face and clothes, while that idiot was just smirking at me, and I had slipped because there was water on the floor. And all of it was amusing to my boyfriend, who seemed to be in a great mood since he kept chuckling (not that I was complaining because it was a beautiful sound). The annoying thing, though, was that I was too irritated to mock him wearing my floral apron that made him lose his debonair flair.

“You’re an idiot with her own comedy show,” he teased.

“I don’t know if that is a compliment or not.”

“It isn’t. I’m calling you an idiot.”

“Shut up. You’re the reason I’m covered in flour.”

“Just go sit down and eat. I’ll clean everything up.”

“You better, you clean-freak,” I mumbled, doing as he said, taking a seat at the table on the balcony as he placed down the plates and mugs before sitting opposite me. The sun grinned down on him, giving him an ethereal appearance and making him even more gorgeous.

There was idle chatter as we ate because I was too exhausted and agitated to carry a proper conversation that had too much information for my brain to register.

Once we were done, the raven stood up to take the dishes to the kitchen and wash them (husband material right there) as Hanji approached me with a yawn, rubbing the fatigue from her eyes.

“How come you’re awake so e-- Oh,” she said when she noticed Levi.

“Yeah, he made me get out of bed early for no reason,” I complained as I stood up to help him. “There’s leftover batter for crepes, by the way.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks. Also, why is there flour everywhere?”

“Because of that idiot.” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re the idiot, darlin’,” he called from the kitchen before appearing before us, shooting an annoying and teasing look my way, and shot him a glare in return.

From someone else’s perspective that don’t know us, we’d probably look like we hate each other, when in reality, this was basically our love language - annoying each other and glaring.

“I will punch you, Ackerman. However, I need to clean up, so you’re lucky.”

“Not like you would’ve, anyway. And before you say anything else, just go shower.”

Once again, I rolled my eyes but left the room to do as he said, grabbing some clothes and a towel before going into the bathroom. Just as I was about to close the door, however, it opened slightly and Levi stepped inside, shutting and locking the door.

“What are you doing?” I inquired.

“I said I’ll clean everything up, didn’t I? That includes you,” he whispered with a smirk, leaning in to latch his lips onto mine, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

~/~

Soft kisses were pressed along my hairline and my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, down to my jaw and further down to my shoulders. Lips continued to migrate, travelling to my neck where there were soft nibbles and flicks of a tongue against the flesh of my neck.

My fingers were tangled in ebony locks, damp and fragrant from our recent shower, and my nails gently scratched against Levi’s scalp as I drifted my hand through his hair. His touches were light and almost careful, like he didn’t want to hurt me, even though his teeth contrasted that when he sunk his teeth into my skin a couple of times before kissing the spot he bit as a wordless apology.

We were simply lying down in my bed, relaxing in a comfortable silence. I laid on my back with my eyes lidded, while Levi laid on his side, resting his head on my chest as he continued to pepper my skin in soft kisses and gentle nips.

These would always be my favourite moments. Just moments filled with adoration, silent declarations of love, and serenity. No teasing, annoying, or glaring. No retorts, no eye rolling, no grumbles. Only warmth, tenderness, affection.

“Darlin’?” he uttered in a hushed voice, but when I didn’t respond, he lifted his head to gaze at me, finding that I had fallen asleep. His ashen hues were full of fondness, admiring my relaxed visage before he pecked my lips and assumed his original position - his head on my chest and an arm slung over my torso.

While I was asleep, he was on his phone, scrolling through social media, occasionally sighing because he was bored. But he wouldn’t wake me up because I deserved to sleep.

It wasn’t until about twelve o’clock when I woke up with Levi’s head still laying on my chest, however, his grey orbs were hidden. So, with little movement, I attempted to reach for my phone, only to find that his fingers were entangled with mine, which made me smile softly because I hadn’t been holding his hand before I fell asleep.

And when I pressed my lips against his knuckles, his eyes fluttered open to meet mine, and there was a smile shimmering in his beautiful eyes.

“Finally awake, sleepyhead,” he hummed placing a single kiss on my jaw.

“Mhm. Did you miss me?” I murmured, unhinging my jaw and letting out a yawn.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, putting up an act to support his lie. “No.”

I giggled softly, kissing his forehead. “Whatever you say, babe. Anyway, what are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“I was thinking something outside because the weather’s nice.”

“Oh, I know! There’s a funfair at the park just ten minutes away. Let’s go there.”

“Sure. We’ll leave in about an hour?” he suggested, and I hummed in agreement, tugging my boyfriend closer so I could nuzzle my face into his chest before we got out of bed. “Then, we can come back later and make dinner together.”

“That sounds nice,” I said in a hushed voice, feeling sleep taking over me once again. However, Levi attempted to save me before I completely gave in.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Shhh.”

For the umpteenth time that day, the raven rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the smile that edged onto his lips every time.

He doesn’t know what it was. But every time I would do or say something, even if it was the most stupid and idiotic thing he’s seen, he feels something warm flutter inside. And he realises how much he’s fallen for me, which has changed him. In a good way.

And all this time I thought I was a bad influence.

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

Text

Lights in your eyes (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,3 k

Summary: Moments of Ethan and Claire’s New Year’s Eve party.

Warnings: a swear word here or there, mentions of adult situations

A/N: It’s all fluff with these two. Couldn’t stop myself. I also really would like to see Ethan and Tobias finally work their shit out, it has potential, I’m telling you

“Who would have thought we’d ever get to do this again, huh?” Tobias snickered, pushing Ethan’s shoulder playfully. The other doctor scoffed, leaning away a bit with a hint of a grin.

“Old habits die hard, I suppose. I still can’t believe I actually let you talk me into this.” Ethan cleared his throat, straightening his back a bit as they both waited for the door to open. Right before they did, Tobias laughed.

“We both know that it’s not me that talked you into going to the New Year’s Eve party. It’s a promise of seeing Herondale.”

Before Ethan could protest, the door opened, revealing a slightly intoxicated Baz, who with a wide smile, threw both arms over their shoulders and dragged them inside. Ethan didn’t even try to argue, knowing damn well that any form of resistance would be futile with the cheery doctor.

“Happy almost New Year, guys! You’re just in time, we were about to turn on some music.” he walked them in, shutting the door behind them. “The food is right here, the drinks are over there. if you need anything, ask.”

And with that, he went into the crowd and the two doctors lost him. They exchanged a brief look, after which Tobias nodded and left Ethan alone, going to fetch himself a drink. That left Ramsey on his own, his eyes immediately scanning the room in search of the blonde doctor. He failed in his search, confusion clouding his mind for a brief moment. All of a sudden, his hand was grabbed by someone and he was spinning the other way around, his arms immediately full.

Claire rose onto the tips of her toes, guiding Ethan with her hand against his cheek into a soft kiss. His surprise melted away with each move of her lips, arms wrapping around her to pull her closer. With a low hum, he lost himself in her, reveling in the sparks of endorphins that her closeness elicited.

“Get it, Ramsey!” Tobias shouted, whistling loudly at the pair. Ethan waved his hand at him halfheartedly, returning it to Claire’s waist immediately after. The pair couldn’t hear the teasing calls of people surrounding them if they tried.

His hands wandered her body, seemingly with a mind of their own, but Ethan was very much aware of what he was discovering, from the lacy fabric of her top to the very short skirt that exposed her legs in the best way possible. Every single sane thought he might have had in that moment had disappeared, his mind overcome by her intoxicating smell and things she was doing to him with her hands in his hair.

He moved his lips to her cheek, caressing her face while she let some oxygen into her lungs. “I thought you said you wouldn’t come.” She breathed out heavily, the tips of her fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. His heart skipped a beat, his mind creating very suggestive images, far too risky for the place they were currently in. “Though, I have to say, I was hoping you would change your mind. I always wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in your arms as the new year started.”

Ethan’s groan was barely noticeable by others, the loud music, courtesy of Bryce, masking most of it. Claire, however, knew very well that it was there, smirking as she leaned away.

“You’re entirely too distracting.” He admitted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear when they separated for good. She grinned, pulling him closer for a split second with a smirk.

“But you love it.”

“That I do.”

They moved to the spot holding drinks, talking quietly among themselves. Ethan’s face twisted in displeasure at the sight of various colorful drinks, much to Claire’s amusement. With exaggerated flourish, she poured him a glass of whiskey and presented him with it, grinning at the way his expression cleared up.

She’s never seen him this relaxed at the party. With his arm around her waist, they made rounds among party attendees. He told a joke or two, didn’t complain about the choice of music or about the noise level; Claire would even go ahead and say that he enjoyed himself. Months into their relationship, he seemed to develop some sort of an immunity to parties, or at the very least, learned to survive them with her help.

Bryce declared himself the DJ, not letting anyone else dictate what song was playing. He decided on a rather slow song, though it was anything but romantic; it was carried by desire, the rhythm begging their bodies to move.

Ethan was the one to initiate the dance, squeezing her hip before pulling Claire to the secluded corner of the room, their faces coming closer as the song rang in the air. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him to her. The proximity was enough to allow them to hear each other’s heavy breathing, the notion sending sparks of interest running down their spines.

“Pity we’re in the crowd.” He muttered into her ear, twirling her out and right back into his waiting arms, dipping her low towards the ground and throwing her back into his embrace, an inviting smirk on his features.

“What would you do if we weren’t?” Claire asked, wrapping her leg around his calf, her eyes sparkling playfully, challenging him to answer. Ethan’s hold on her tightened, their hips meeting in a suggestive manner as they danced.

“I would push you up against the wall.” He whispered hotly into her ear, taking great pleasure in the way her hands ran up his neck. “Brush that silly excuse of a skirt up your thighs and tease your skin until you were begging for more.” His words had an immediate effect on both of them, his breath losing its consistency, taking up an irregular beat instead, matching the rhythm of her heart. “Make you take my fingers until you couldn’t help but cry out my name-“

“Ramsey, either tone down with the flirting or get a room!” Tobias was the one to interrupt their inappropriate at the very least exchange, a shit-eating grin taking up his face. This time, it was Claire that smirked as she showed him her ring finger instead of her middle finger, her own spin of the rude gesture that wasn’t as offensive.

“I’d say you’re bothered by something.” Claire called out, twisting to face Tobias, letting Ethan’s arms fall around her hips. “How about some therapy?”

“I’d love to have some therapy with a woman as beautiful as you, but I already went down this road once. Our Ethan here doesn’t appreciate sharing.” He shot back, winking at her playfully. “Can’t blame him, though. I wouldn’t want to share you, either.”

“Lucky for me, I don’t have to.” Ethan pressed her against him, a proud smile residing on his lips. “I’m gonna be here as long as she wants me to.”

“You mean all the time, then. That’s a long time you’re signing up for.”

“We both know that I don’t mind that in the slightest.”

The more drinks they had, the bolder Claire was getting. She often joked about how she was going to dance on the table one of those days, but he always laughed at the idea as though it was a joke. Well, that day, it became apparent that it wasn’t a joke after all.

At one point of the evening, they separated. Ethan kept mostly to himself, taking his time to talk to his colleagues. In the meantime, Claire made rounds among her friends. She kicked their ass in beer pong, destroyed Rafael and Kyra in Just Dance (she winked at Ethan over her shoulder as the song ended, being rewarded with a warm hint of a smile from him) and annihilated the rest of the party in medical trivia with Jackie and Sienna as her teammates.

She’s had more than enough to drink by that point, so when Elijah dared her to dance on the table, she was more than game. Climbing onto the table, barely managing to balance on her high heels without falling, she threw her hands up in triumph.

“Bryce, turn the music up, I want to dance- oh!”

She twisted and turned, but before she could lose her balance, she found herself in the very safe embrace of Ethan Ramsey, who wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down from the table.

“No, I don’t think so. Come here.”

Claire fell onto his shoulders, her skirt riding up dangerously higher. He brushed the material downwards, saving her some embarrassment and party attendees some intriguing sights at the very least.

He walked them to the room on the side of the building, only then letting her feet touch the ground. She placed her hands on his shoulders, firmly gripping him as she slid down the front of his body.

“My hero.” She mumbled, pressing her lips to his neck. It took herculean effort to brush her advances away, especially when she was this enticing, but he knew better. He found a place for them to sit, gathering her into his arms and pulling her into his arms to keep her comfortable.

“Do you need to rest?” Ethan asked, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. She shook her hand, twisting in his embrace until she straddled him.

“I need you.”

“I’m flattered, Rookie, but now’s not the time. Tell me what else you need.”

She squeezed her eyes, looking at him suspiciously, then leaned forward to kiss him softly. With her lips against his, she whispered.

“I really do need you. Only you. Right here, with me.”

“Then that’s what you shall have.” He nodded, pressing a soothing kiss to her forehead, and wrapping his arms around her tighter.

“I found them!” Jackie opened the door, shouting over her back. Ethan looked away from the window, sitting both him and Claire up slowly. “You guys finally got decent at hiding. Lord knows you both sucked at it back in the day.”

The pair shared an amused look, standing up and straightening their clothes before going back. She caught his hand, tangling their fingers together, lazy smile lighting up Ethan’s face.

The main room holding the party hasn’t changed all that much since they last saw it. The lights dimmed, there was significantly less food and alcohol on the counters and the music was much more chaotic than it used to be. This time, it was Claire that pulled Ethan into her arms and onto the dancefloor, pressing their cheeks together. Despite the music not entirely fitting the mood they were in, they danced closely to one another, light smiles residing on their features.

“I could spend the whole night with you. Right here, in my arms.” He mused under his breath, looking right into her eyes with determination.

“You bet I’ll be in your arms for the whole night. In more ways than one.” Claire promised, winking at him cheekily and observing with delight how a gentle blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Then what else am I supposed to do?”

A helpless grin was all he could manage before his lips found hers, gently kissing her, as though it was easier than breathing air. Their surroundings blended into a marvelous fusion of sights and sounds, drowning out everything.

Midnight was crawling closer and closer, and with that, a new year, full of possibilities. Ethan twirled Claire up until it was minutes until the countdown, at which point, she pulled him outside, their bodies shielded from the view by the alcove.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted to get me alone.” He grinned, turning them around to press her against the column. She traced her hand around his neck, drawing their bodies a bit closer.

“Where would you even get that idea? I’m just enjoying my time with boyfriend.”

Before he could come up with some witty response, his body was hauled onto hers, brought closer by her hands, gripping his shoulders to pull him closer, and by her legs, wrapping around him to press their bodies as close as physics would allow.

They became entangled in a wild wave of desire and longing, stealing each other’s breaths and peeking into each other’s minds. Ethan grounded his hips into hers, a broken groan falling from his lips at the sensation. Claire smiled against him, letting his head trail downwards to tease the skin of her neck and chest, the flimsy fabric of her top giving way to his fingers. A wave of goosebumps washed over her body, the sensations he was eliciting pulling her away from the reality.

Fireworks suddenly erupted in the sky, illuminating their faces, lights reflected in their eyes. They broke the kiss, both of them turning towards the colorful show, high above their heads. Claire remained focused on the various images on the grand navy background, missing the way Ethan focused solely on her. He caught the smallest changes in her expressions; how closely she examined the shapes high above them; how the loud explosions make her twitch slightly, how the cheers of her friends pulled her attention away from the place she was in for just a little while.

And then she came back to him, truly and completely, staring at him with wonder in her eyes. Her hands traced the features of his face, her fingers brushing the lines of his cheekbones tenderly.

“Happy New Year.” Claire muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Ethan gathered her into his arms once more, getting lost in the way her green irises sparkled with happiness.

“With you, every year is going to be happy.”

Notes

Thank you so much for being here with me for another year. Each and every one of you is amazing and I’m grateful that you’re on this wild ride by my side <3 See you guys in the new year, let’s hope it’s gonna be better than the one we’re saying goodbye to.

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #choices fanfiction

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hwangsbbg · 4 years ago

Text

Honeymoon - Hyunjin

Just a really fluffy smut in which female reader and Hyunjin spend their first night together as a married couple

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

"Wait, I have to pick you up and carry you inside, tradition" Hyunjin grinned, swooping me up with ease after unlocking the hotel room with the key card we received from the receptionist and entering the hotel.

The honeymoon suite. It was insanely beautiful. The theme was red and white and there was anything we could possibly need. A small living room area, a fridge, a tv, a jacuzzi and of course, the huge king sized bed which was the first thing you could see when you walked in.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a gift basket with a "congratulations" card sticking out of it but I was more focused on the fake rose petals that were spread all over the room.

I grinned when Hyunjin kicked the door closed after he walked in and set me down on the bed.

"You know, Mrs Hwang, we have the guys to thank for this" Hyunjin grinned, kicking off his dress shoes.

It's true. The guys were responsible for all of this. They had planned the surprise honeymoon and payed for everything from the plane tickets to the hotel room. We were staying here for a week.

"Don't worry Mr Hwang, I won't forget to thank them" I absolutely loved being called 'Mrs Hwang' and more so when it was coming from Hyunjin. I loved sharing his last name and I loved being his wife.

"I still can't believe you travelled in your wedding dress" Hyunjin chuckled, glancing at the dress I had been wearing since the ceremony.

"The plane ride was only 4 hours and we decided not to go to the after party so it wasn't that bad" I admitted, resting my hands back on the bed and using them to balance my body weight.

Hyunjin was also still wearing his black tuxedo. He looked like a prince. He always looks like a prince but now more than ever with his black hair styled back and all.

"I just can't wait to take this thing off though" I told him. I wasn't tired from the trip, quite the opposite actually. I was very excited but I wanted to finally get out of this huge fancy dress.

"I could take it off for you" Hyunjin smirked, walking closer to the bed until he was standing right in front of me, looking down at me.

"I wouldn't stop you" I replied, standing up, still looking up at him because of the height difference between the two of us.

Hyunjin and I were a very 'innocent couple', two virgins completely head over heels for each other. It would make a great book. Of course we've kissed and made out before but we would never let it go beyond that, wanting our first times together to be special. And it was indeed going to be special.

We even made a deal to not touch ourselves for a month prior to the wedding and it was quite simple for me but Hyunjin could not stop complaining.

"You know I want this to be special but with you looking like this I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself" Hyunjin muttered, taking my hands into his own.

"Hey, it's okay, this is a first for both of us and all that matters right now is that we're both here, together, and I love you" I reassured him.

"And I love you" He grinned as I grabbed onto his tie, pulling him into a kiss. The kiss was slow, sweet, we took our time knowing we had all night to do whatever we wanted to and knowing what this was leading up to.

Hyunjin pulled away, undoing his tie and throwing it on the floor before removing his suit jacket revealing his button up, nicely tucked into his pants which fit him tightly and revealed the outline of his muscles.

He smiled, reattaching our lips, this time his tongue demanding access which I quickly granted, desperate to feel his tongue explore my mouth.

The entire situation was insanely arousing and I wanted nothing more but for Hyunjin to take this dress off of me but I enjoyed the build up and how special he was making everything.

His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer and making the gap between our bodies completely disappear with my chest pushed up against his.

His hands then went to my ass, palming it gently before giving it a tight squeeze, earning a swallowed moan from my part.

"Fuck" he pulled away, staring at me as I stared at the very prominent bulge forming inside of his suit pants.

He reached behind me, his hand going to the zipper of my dress and pulling it completely down before I intervened, slipping the dress off by stepping out of it.

"Wha- fuck" Hyunjin groaned, seeing the outfit I had prepared for him, for this night.

I was dressed in white lace lingerie I had bought for this occasion, the bra perfectly showing off my breasts and beautifully contrasting with my skin.

"Just for you" I bit on my lower lip in anticipation as he grinned at me.

"How did I get this lucky" His eyes scanned my body, as if it were an art piece in a museum only he could attend.

"I think I'm the lucky one" I giggled, untucking his button up shirt and peppering his neck with small open mouthed kisses before beginning to unbutton, one by one, his shirt.

He detached from the kiss, removing his shirt and throwing it on the pile of clothes that was slowly forming on the hotel floor.

Hyunjin was truly a sight to see. His muscles, his abs, his pecs, it seemed as though everything was sculpted perfectly and covered by a smooth layer of skin.

"Come here" Hyunjin signaled for me to jump and so I did, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as his hands rested on my bare thighs, holding me up.

The kiss this time was more heated, rushed and I fought back my urges to moan at the feeling of his bulge pressed up directly against my heat before he layed me down on the bed, his body slightly hovering above mine, making sure to not break the kiss.

He positioned himself so that his one knee was between my legs that were slightly bent up and his other was on the other side of one of my legs.

Hyunjin slowly began leaving a trail of kisses from my lips to my jaw all the way to my neck, collarbone and breasts.

"Beautiful" He marveled, kissing the exposed top of my breasts before moving back up to my neck.

He layed down before propping himself up with one arms, the other going to my breast that he began rubbing on as he sucked on the sensitive skin on my neck.

My breath hitched as he rolled his hips onto my heat, his mouth finding a spot on my neck causing tingles to run through my entire body.

"Let me take these off baby" He stood up, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers, painfully slow as if he were putting on a show for my eyes only.

He finally stepped out his his pants, his underwear being the only article of clothing remaining on his body, his erection looking more prominent than before.

I lifted my body only slightly enough to unclasp my bra and throw it to the other side of the room, Hyunjin's eyes quickly attaching themselves to the bare skin.

With no words said, he dived straight for my breasts, one hand massaging one breast, fondling with the nipple, squeezing it, doing whatever he wanted while his lips focused on the other breast, taking my nipple into his mouth after sucking dark purple marks on the exposed skin.

He did the same to the other breast, taking his time despite both of us being impatient before going back up to my lips, this time messy with our tongues dancing, his lips already red and puffy.

I moved my hands down from his shoulder, to his back, feeling the soft skin before moving on to his arms. I absolutely loved his arms, the muscles.

My hands then trailed down his upper body, my fingers slightly gliding over his nipples before enjoying his abs.

Then I palmed him, taking him by surprise as he let out a small gasp followed by a moan.

I flipped us over, now sitting on his thigh as I began sucking beautiful hickies all over his milky skin. I adored the feeling of his thigh, the muscle strong and pressing against my heat.

I moaned as I began rolling my hips on his thigh, my hand going back to his hard on as I began to gently rub on it, continuing to mark his skin.

I could feel my underwear sticking to my heat, dripping with arousal and I knew it was time to go further.

I pulled away, rolling over on my back and Hyunjin seemed to get the message as he positioned himself so that his knees were on either side of my legs, scanning my body in the process.

He maintained eye contact as his fingers hooked on the waistband of my underwear before he pulled them off, his eyes immediately going to my core.

"You have it worse than I do" he teased, referring to the arousal as he tossed the underwear behind his back.

He then stood up, removing his own boxers, his erection propping up against his stomach, standing tall and proud, his tip already oozing precum.

"Are you sure about that" I giggled as he chuckled in response, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed with my thighs.

He leaned down as he began kissing on my shoulder, his finger instantly going to my slit and without warning, pushing inside of me.

"F-fuck Hyunjin" I moaned as he began slowly thrusting his finger before adding another one.

"Shit-" I cursed at the slight stretch, my arousal serving as a lubricant as his fingers moved in and out and he made scissoring gestures to stretch out the tight hole.

"Fuck, Hyunjin, I really want you" I moaned as he sped up the rhythm of his fingers before completely pulling away.

He spread my legs and positioned himself between them, placing his length right at my entrance.

I closed me eyes as he began rubbing it against my entrance, teasing me but pleasuring both of us as he makes the tip of his length rub against my clit.

"Fuck- please Hyunjin" I looked up at him. He looked focused, his hair sticking to his forehead and jaw slightly parted.

"F-fuck" Hyunjin groaned, slowly pushing the tip of his erection inside of me as I let out a squeal at the stretch, this being completely different from two fingers.

"You okay babe?" He looked down at me, worried, as I nodded, my eyes shut in slight pain mixed in with a bit of pleasure.

"Fuck it's so tight" He moaned, leaning down to kiss me as he continued sliding the rest of the length in, his kiss supposed to distract me but not working as as I could only focus on was the stinging which quickly subsided.

"You can move now" I gave him the green flag before he slowly pulled out, thrusting back in at the same speed, testing the water.

I cursed at the feeling, the pain now replaced with absolute pleasure. Hyunjin took my reaction as a sign to continue as he began thrusting, in and out, at a steadier rhythm.

"F-faster please" I begged as he began picking up the pace, his thrusts increasing in speed only further intensifying the pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck Hyunjin it feels so good" I could feel a knot forming in my lower stomach as tears formed in my eyes.

"Shit y-you're so f-fucking hot, all mine" Hyunjin grunted as he grabbed onto my thigh, hoisting it up and resting it on his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper than previously.

"FUCK" I yelled, overwhelmed with pleasure as he began hitting a certain spot that had my head spinning.

"Sh- I- fuck- I can't- ah" I struggled to form words as his thrusts not only gained in depth and speed but also in rigor as he began thrusting harder, practically slamming into me.

"Fuck babygirl I-" Hyunjin's breathing became audible as he was practically panting.

"I'm gonna-" Hyunjin began. I could feel my walls tightening and clenching around his length and I knew I was close as well.

"Me too" I let him know and with a few more thrusts he began releasing his load, not stopping with his thrusts as I cried out in pleasure.

His grunts resonated throughout the room as he rode his high, his last thrust causing me to come as well, all over his length.

He pulled out, his body collapsing into the bed, next to me as he pulled me close to him.

"I love you" He whispered as I layed my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, slowly calming down.

"I love you too"

#stray kids #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids oneshot #kpop smut #kpop #smut

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blue-bird-kny · 4 years ago

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The Decoy

Finally got this out of the drafts! Its been a hot minute but I hope everyone is doing well, enjoy!~Amanda

Warning: Cussing, Gore

(1.3k+ words)

You bathed under the dazzling city lights as you took in every moment of the district's nightlife. You’d only ever heard stories of this buzzing city and all the crazy endeavours you could partake in. While you were the epitome of enthusiasm, your brute of a boyfriend was not as animated beside you.The atmosphere surrounding Sanemi was deathly; his face sagged in a deep scowl as he prowled at your side like a predator searching for its prey. Sanemi was sent to the Red Light District in hopes of finding and killing a demon who had been disguising themselves as a wealthy nobleman, promising women a hefty pay for their time. As hilarious as it would be, Sanemi would never pass for a decent lady in drag, so it was only obvious you tag along to act as the decoy.

“Hey look at this candy Nemi’! It's shaped like a dragon!” your eyes sparkled childishly at the glassy pulled sugar stick for sale on the vendors station. Sanemi growled in mock annoyance a few feet behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest, “How fucking old are you? We’ve stopped at every damn stand” he complained. You paid the old man selling the treats, slipping in a few extra coins of gratitude, before shuffling over to your brooding shadow, offering an affectionate smile, “Come on Nemi, lighten up!” you chastised. Yea like that was possible, as if he wasn’t about to ship you off to some monster so he could touch you for sport, “Let’s go L/n”.

You found yourselves hidden between two tall buildings, using the shade as a rendezvous spot. “How do I look?” you joked, desperately trying to alleviate a little of his stress. His eyes wandered over your silky yukata, painted in brilliant blue shades with blue ombre blossoms and white accents adorning the sleeves. His eyes narrowed further as he passed your cleavage on complete display for any hungry eyes, wanting nothing more to sink his teeth into the exposed skin of your neck, to mark you as his. Your finger lifted his lowered grimace up to your far softer expression, holding him there, “Sanemi I volunteered, you don’t need to be so worried about me. I’m just the bait, you get to have all the fun” you giggled. His furrowed brows crumbled, revealing something softer for a moment, a moment meant for just the two of you.“Don’t do anything stupid, Stupid” he poked your forehead gently, silent confessions filling the small space. As he watched your retreating form from the side lines, Sanemi swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, even at the expense of the mission.

You walked around the large house alone, trying your best to blend in with the scantily clad women around you “maybe I’m overdressed”. You peered above at the poles that lined the roof where you felt Sanemi’s gaze following you. In your periphery you spotted your target, pretending to stumble on your own dress and falling at the feet of a very tall man, “show time”.

“I-I’m sorry, I lost my balance” you pleaded to the man from the floor, gazing up at him innocently. His domineering chuckle was deep and cocky, offering a hand out to you. “You’re new right? I’ve haven’t seen you around” he questioned, his amber eyes boring into your soul. He pulled you uncomfortably close to his chest, forcing your face near his, “I’d remember a face like yours”. You averted your eyes to the floor nervously, to him it looked like you were submissively falling into his touch,“All I need to do is get him away from everyone else”

“Come, let's go somewhere quieter” he wrapped your smaller hand in his larger one, pulling you away to an empty part of the house blocked off by a thin curtain.He sat himself down in a plush chair, gesturing to his lap, “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite” yea right. You gulped before awkwardly climbing onto his clothed thighs, trying everything in your power to not grimace.

Sanemi was two steps away from exploding as he watched the scene unfold before him, his eyes lighting with fire and dripping with bloodlust, wanting to rip that thing to shreds. It took every fiber of his being to hold out and watch every insufferable second of you being handled by a demon, but he needed to trust you. He knew that you didn’t need him around, that you were capable of killing the demon using the small blades hidden in the strap around your thigh, but he wasn’t willing to see how much of yourself you’d have to give for that to happen. Sanemi gripped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white while the man's hand languidly trailed your bare shoulder, slowly pushing the fabric lower and lower.

You giggled obnoxiously for the tenth time, laughing at whatever nonsense the demon was spewing. His touch was like ice against your skin; searing against your warmth, leaving an icy chill with every stroke. You stealthy moved your hand out of sight, flexing your fingers into the signal you and Sanmi had agreed on when the demon snatched your wrist, raising it to his long fangs. “I’m offended you think I’m so stupid, little girl”

Everything happened too quickly; before the demon could sink his teeth into your skin, Sanemi was already standing there, sword raised against his neck and hand ripping the hair off his scalp. “Move even an inch and I’ll send your head rolling asshole” Sanemi growled. The three of you sat motionless, the sound of your faint breathing filling the tense space. “I must say, you’ve got me” the demon started, “But your only mistake was not grabbing her first” he sunk his teeth into your veins, biting down almost to the bone. You parted your lips in silent screams, blood gushing out of the wound as Sanemi severed his head, prying his teeth off the torn skin.

Tears spilled freely as you lay on the wood floor clutching your battered arm, praying for something, anything to ease the pain. “Shit” Sanemi breathed, frantically tearing a piece of his clothes to act as a bandage, “You should have fucking stayed home!” his words were lost in your whimpers. Your lips twitched, desperately trying to form words, but the world was fading fast and the last thing you saw was Sanemi before everything faded away.

“I almost died”

It was the first thought you had once your eyes finally opened, the warm blanket you'd been wrapped in falling to your hips. You remembered everything while you admired the crafty stitch work that lined your arm in intricate loops, wincing when you probed the tender skin. “Don’t touch it dumbass” a harsh voice called. “Hey Nemi” you greeted shyly, instantly recognizing the nickname. A million questions rushed to roll off your tongue, instead, morphing into one solemn “I’m sorry”

“You were right, I had no reason to be there. All I did was prolong the mission and hurt myself in the process” your voice quivered as you spoke, your eyes not able to reach his. Loud stomps marched towards your bed spread, Sanemis rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that shit. You did your part of the mission while I hesitated and let that prick hurt you. So dammit don’t say sorry because I’m fucking sorry!” his tone grew higher and higher to the point where he was practically yelling, but it didn’t bother you. You smiled softly, nuzzling into his palms, grasping your flushed cheeks, turning slightly to place soft kisses on each one. “We’re a mess sometimes, aren’t we?” you yawned, pink washing over the both of you. “Whatever, just go back to sleep” he mumbled, pushing against the mattress. “Hey Nemi guess what?” “What?” “Now we’ll have matching scars” you laughed, eyelids already growing heavy “That’s not funny, dumbass!”

“Are you going to stay?”

“Of course”

Masterlist

This isn’t my favorite, but I 100% headcanon Sanemi using your last name as a term of endearment.

#KNY #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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chapter six.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 4.6k (may have gotten a bit *cough* carried away)

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, switch!reader, jungkook being a lovable idiot, bad driving, taehyung trying (and failing) to catfish the reader, bar bathroom smut, oral (m receiving), light choking

Chapter Six

Habitat Worksite – 11:25am

The rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly much to my surprise. The group that I help Eddie orient is from a pub in the neighboring town. They’re so much nicer than the last scarring group I had to deal with, and they’re actually listening to my directions.

I’m pretty sure I have tears in my eyes as I supervise them cutting plywood like professionals – but that could just be the sawdust.

When I become confident that no one is going to injure themselves with the power saw, I recruit some other volunteers to help me transfer the cut wood inside.

As we walk into the house, I almost drop the plywood onto my foot. Jungkook is shirtless, mixing cement together. When had he even arrived? I stare unabashedly at him – The height. The build. The broad shoulders. The veined forearms. The ridged stomach. The tattoos…

Tay, the middle-aged mother of two helping me, follows my line of vision, “Oh my... please tell me you’re hitting that, darling.”

“Tay!” I hiss, my eyes darting around to see if anyone heard her. Sure enough, Jungkook is looking at us and smirking like he was just crowned king of the fucking universe. “I am not hitting anything, thank you very much.”

She makes a derisive noise, “I might be old, but I'm not blind. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jungkook hands off his mixing duties to Matt and saunters over to us, “Hey, noona. You look nice today. Do you need any help?”

“Not hitting that, my ass,” Tay mutters and shoots me a triumphant look as she walks back outside.

I roll my eyes at her antics and turn to Jungkook, “Hi, Kookie. What happened to your shirt?”

Jungkook blushes, “I may have taken it off, and then it may have fallen into the cement.”

My eyes wander around the room until they fall on a sad lump of fabric and semi-dried cement in the corner. My lips twitch.

“Noona-a,” Jungkook whines, “Don’t laugh!”

My body doubles over, shaking with laughter. Tears stream down my face as I try in vain to catch my breath.

“Is she okay?” I vaguely hear Hobi ask before I feel his hand run soothing circles on my back, “(y/n), are you crying?”

I straighten, wiping my tears, “H-he… cemen-nt… sh-shirt…” My cackles resume.

“She’s lost it, hasn’t she?” Yoongi enters the house with eyebrows raised, “It was only a matter of time. Jungkook has that effect on people.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook punches Yoongi in the arm.

"Am I wrong, Hobi?" Yoongi turns to the other boy, who's hand is still firmly on my back.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a dirty look, "Don't drag me into this. The last time I tried to argue with the two of you I almost got a concussion."

Jungkook smirks, looking way too pleased to receive such an accusation, "I seem to recall you liking it, Hobi-hyung. What was it you were screaming?"

Yoongi snickers as he leans into Jungkook, effectively teaming up on poor Hobi, "I believe the phrase was 'harder, oh my god, harder!'" He and Jungkook collapse onto each other in fits of laughter as Hoseok turns an amusing shade of magenta.

I turn to face Hobi. "Is that how you like it?" I murmur, tilting my head to stare up at him, "You like it hard? Rough?"

Hobi swallows as his pupils dilate. His hand on my lower back suddenly clenches, crumpling my shirt within his fist. "Yes," his voice comes out deeper than I had ever heard it.

Vaguely, I notice the other two boys have stopped laughing. Good. No one would tease my sweet Hobi in front of me and get away with it.

My decision solidifies. "Well," I say, "Then that's how I'll give it to you."

"No one will be giving anything to anyone until we finish this project," Namjoon's voice booms, breaking up your little moment with Hoseok.

The four of you swing to face him, blinking owlishly.

Namjoon's eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Jeon Jungkook, for the love of god, where is your shirt?"

An hour later, I found myself stuck in the backseat of Jungkook's black Range Rover. After Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook had loudly voiced their opinion in front of the entire worksite that it was their turn to drive me, I had quickly jumped into the car to avoid further humiliation.

Now, I sat wedged in between Hobi and Yoongi who both refused to sit in the front next to Jungkook and also forbade me from doing so. I only agreed because I was not one to miss an opportunity to be pressed up between two hot guys. Sue me.

Glancing down at my thighs, I marvel at the way both of the boys have placed possessive hands on them. "This is so lame," Jungkook complains for the hundredth time as he glances at the three of us in the rearview mirror. "I want to touch noona, too!"

We ignore him.

Yoongi's slim fingers dig in slightly into the softness of my inner thigh, "(y/n)," his hushed words ghost over my neck, "Come home with us?"

"Please," Hobi echoes from my other side. His hand is more brazen in its placement. His pinky just a fraction away from the apex of my thighs.

Perhaps I could close my legs like the proper lady my grandma wanted me to be... but fuck that. I would woman-spread however I damn well please. "Hmm," I pretend to think about it, "No."

"But why?" Hobi pouts, making puppy-dog eyes in my direction, "You said you were going to give it to me."

I shrug, noncommittally, "I never said when."

Jungkook sighs from the driver's seat, "Ah, I love it when noona is evil."

"We fucking know, Jungkook," Yoongi groans, "You only bring it up a thousand times a day."

"Hey!" Jungkook whirls around in his seat, "Stop exposing me, hyung!"

"Eyes on the damn road, JK!" Hobi grips the 'oh shit' bar as the car begins to veer into the bike lane. Jungkook whips back around and quickly rights the car. Meanwhile, Yoongi smirks like the little shit starter he is.

"Looks like I'm not the only evil one here," I roll my eyes, "You're a menace, Min Yoongi."

"Yes, I am," the boy puffs up his chest and grins that gummy smile that he knows makes me melt, "But I'm your menace."

"Ah, gross!"

"Ew!"

Jungkook and Hobi yell as I try not to smile at Yoongi's rare display of cuteness and fail miserably.

"Stop trying to butter me up so that I'll come home with you, Yoongs," I smile and thread my fingers through his.

"Why?" He leans into me, "Is it working?"

"Not at all," I breathe, eyes darting to his lips as his tongue slips out to wet them.

"Liar," Yoongi moves in closer. My eyelids lower in anticipation.

Jungkook slams on the breaks and jolts the three of us forward, "We're here!" Grumbling, I pull my seatbelt away from its death grip on my body.

"Well played, Jungkook, well played," Yoongi comments from beside me.

"Tell that to my fucking neck," Hobi moans as he massages the front of his neck where his seatbelt must have dug in.

"Aw," I take pity on the poor boy and offer half-jokingly, "Want me to kiss it better?"

"YES!" Hobi's hand flies off his neck at the speed of light and thrusts his neck out in my direction.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he is adorable.

I place the lightest of kisses against the growing pink mark on his skin and revel in the shudder his body emits.

"Bye, Hobi," I place one last kiss on him and slide out of the car, using the door that Yoongi vacated from.

"Bye, angel!" Hobi cries out after me, waving furiously. So damn adorable.

Once I exit the car fully, I am faced with a pouting Jungkook and an annoyed-looking Yoongi.

"What now?" I eye them warily.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a dark look, and the younger boy backs off slightly. Turning back to me, Yoongi steps forward. "Bye, (y/n)," he says lowly, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. A light dusting of pink floods his cheeks at his own soft actions. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my innate reaction to shower him with affection.

That time would come later, I'm sure.

"Bye, Yoongi," I press my mouth his cheek, "Keep your menacing ways to a minimum while I'm not around, would you?"

"No promises," Yoongi drawls, before hopping back into the car.

And just like that I'm left with one tall bashful boy.

"Oh, Jungkook..." I walk towards where he is propped up against the front of his car. His lean body slouches against the hood as his left leg props itself up on front tire. He still has yet to put another shirt on.

"I'm sorry, noona," he speaks to the pavement in the tiniest voice, "I got jealous that I wasn't getting to be that close to you."

I lift his chin up with my finger, "Baby, you were the only one who had my nipples in your mouth last night, and you're jealous of them?"

He swallows hard before grinning, "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I give into the urge to trace the muscles of his stomach. They bunch up under my touch and I smile at his responsiveness. "You know," I continue, "You're going to have to get over this jealousy thing if I do decide to date you all."

"I know, noona," the pout returns, and this time it's paired with a devastating pair of imploring doe eyes. "I just like you. A lot.”

"Well," I smile, "It's a good thing that I also happen to like you. A lot."

"Really?" Jungkook's neck snaps up at an alarming rate, "You do?"

"Yes, you giant idiot," I grip the back of his neck, "Now, kiss me goodbye."

He kisses me. His teeth pull at my bottom lip in a faint bite, and goosebumps spread across my body. I bite him harder in retaliation, but it only seems to urge him closer against me, body hard, warming me everywhere we connect. His fingertips drag down my skin until they reach my waist. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he rests his palms against my skin, fingers splayed down over my hips.

His hold is undeniably possessive. And that would not do.

I lean up and kiss him harder, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. A groan rumbles deep from within his chest.

“Do you think they’re going to come up for air soon?” An amused voice cuts through our make-out session.

Jungkook rips his mouth from mine, “Fuck off, Hobi.”

I open my eyes and blink a couple times before focusing on the smirking faces of Hobi and Yoongi. Their heads are sticking out of the open back window of the Range Rover as they cackle in amusement.

"Hobi," I say sweetly, "Do you need another mark on your neck today?" My hand flexes tauntingly in his direction.

Hoseok's eyes widen, "N-no! Bye again, (y/n)!" He retreats back into the car as Yoongi continues to chuckle before rolling up the window once more.

"You can mark my neck, (y/n)-noona." Jungkook's voice jolts me from my second thoughts on not going home with them.

This boy really is shameless, I think to myself as I shake my head.

"Maybe next time, Kook," I grin at him, "It'll give you something to look forward to."

"For as long as there are next times with you, noona, I will look forward to them."

My heart swells. "You're such a sweetheart, baby boy." The nickname has its desired effect as Jungkook's cheeks blush and his smile widens.

"I'm baby," he nods.

"Yes, you dork, you are," I place a swift peck to his cheek and head into my apartment before I get any more tempted to jump back in his car and initiate a foursome.

God, what were these boys doing to me?

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 4:15pm

A few hours later, I am deep in an argument with Luna over who the best Queer Eye guy is when my phone buzzes.

[Unsaved Number] 2 New Messages

Luna notices my confusion. "Who is it?" she asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

"No fucking clue," I reply, swiping open the messages.

[Unsaved Number] 4:15pm: “Hey, babe! It's me! Namjoon!” 4:15pm: “Want to meet at Hannigan's tonight? Just the two of us!?”

"What the everliving fuck?" My eyebrows rise at the completely obvious way that someone was poorly attempting to impersonate Namjoon.

"That's how Namjoon texts?" Luna sits back, "What a letdown."

"I don't think this is even Namjoon," I mutter and save the contact before swiping over to SnapChat. "Let's see if I have this person's Snap."

"Oh, your mind!" Luna exclaims, running to go grab a bag of pretzels from our tiny kitchen adjacent to our also tiny living room, "That is some top sleuthing right there."

"Why thank you, my good sir," I nod at her playfully before focusing back on my screen. Opening the 'Add Friends' tab, my eyes immediately hone in on the imposter.

"Oh, that little shit," I cry, chucking my phone onto the other end of the couch.

"What? Who is it?" Pretzel crumbs spew out of Luna's mouth as she ambles over to where I had just thrown my phone. She picks it up, turns it over, and lets out a long whistle. "Oh, fuck. What are you going to do?"

Luna hands my phone back to me, and I reopen the messages to respond.

Me 4:21pm: "Hi, Namjoon. I'll meet you there." 4:21pm: "9pm."

It'S mE! nAmJoOn! 4:22pm: “Yay! It's a date!” 4:22pm: “See you at 9!!!”

"Well," I lock my phone and set it down on the coffee table, "It looks I’ll finally get the chance to teach Kim Taehyung a lesson."

Luna springs up from the couch, "I'm calling Jenni. Let's do this."

Hannigan’s - 9:09pm

I'm nervous with anticipation.

Why?

Oh, that’s right – motherfucking Kim Taehyung thought he could pull one over me by impersonating Namjoon, and, so far, he's nowhere to be found.

I grasp my beer tightly as I slouch lower on my barstool. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, I had set up camp in the corner of the bar. Luna and Jenni had immediately ditched me upon arrival, claiming that they were meeting friends.

I would have believed them if I hadn’t noticed that they just relocated to a table within vision of me and were scouring the room for any signs of Taehyung. I pull out my phone and once again debate texting him.

Fuck it. I'm just about to construct a text when my phone pings with messages from the group chat:

Bee Gang 9:10pm, Luna: “HE'S HERE” 9:10pm, Jenni: “HE LOOKS SOOOO GOOD KSKSKS” 9:11pm, Luna: “HOLY SHIT I THINK HE JUST SAW YOU” 9:11pm, Jenni: “TAEHYUNG IS LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU'RE THE HOTTEST THING HE'S EVER SEEN. HE'S GONNA FUCK YOUR SHIT UP I’D BET GOOD MONEY!!!” 9:11pm, Luna: “NAH DUDE *SHE* IS GONNA FUCK UP *HIS* SHIT” 9:12pm, Jenni: “OMG U RIGHT” 9:12pm, (y/n): “1) YOU BOTH SUCK AT HIDING, 2) NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE UP, 3) MAYBE THE SECOND THING IS A LIE”

I lock my phone and place it face down on the bar.

Looking up to see where Taehyung is, I immediately lock eyes on him. He's slowly making his way towards me with people constantly pausing him to chat. Taehyung’s all smiles, but I can tell he is a bit annoyed. That strikes me as odd – I thought he loved the attention?

The boy emerges free from the crowd, and I finally get to take him in.

Damn, he does look so good. His tight white t-shirt emphasizes his toned stomach while his overlying black leather jacket makes his shoulders look a mile wide. My gaze drops lower and take in his black pants with a black belt cinching the waist. I have to fight the urge to grab it and use it to pull him into me.

He’s almost to me when he turns his gaze to the bartender and flicks up two fingers. And just like that two beers and an annoying but hot-as-sin man appear in front of me.

“You don't look surprised to see me,” he says as his greeting, sliding me one of the new beers. He shoots a look at the group of boys occupying the stools next to me and they immediately make themselves scarce.

I arch an eyebrow, “You do realize I had all of your SnapChats to double check the number with, right?”

"God-fucking-damn," Taehyung plops down in the barstool next to mine, "No wonder it was so easy to convince Joon to let me do this." He shakes his head and glances up at me beneath his blue fringe, “You still came? Even though you knew it was me?”

I roll my eyes at his cute actions, "Yes, I figured you had something important to say if you went through all that to get me here."

He blinks, clearly still caught off guard that I wasn't surprised to see him. "I do," His voice cracks and he flushes deliciously, "I mean, yes, I have something to say."

"Okay," I nod and sip from my beer, "So, tell me."

His fingers fiddle with the label on his beer bottle as he begins, "I know I'm not your favorite person... I'm loud. I'm bratty. I know that. But I just have to know if you felt anything that night last semester; because, I did, and I can't stop thinking about it. I know that you probably haven't. It's been killing me to see you with everyone else that I love, and I just need to know if there's a chance you might want to be with me like that, too, and-"

I clamp a hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to mine.

"Baby," I sigh, "Is this what's been making you act out?"

Taehyung's head bobs as he nods swiftly.

"Now, that just won't do," I murmur, my mind whirring as I think of all the times I had thought he wanted to annoy me when all he really wanted was my attention.

"Listen," I continue, pulling my hand from his mouth, "I don't know where you got those ideas stuck in your head from, but they're wrong. I do think about that night last semester. All the fucking time, Tae. And, yes, you're loud, and you have a tendency to be a brat... But, it only makes me more interested."

Taehyung's eyes burn into mine as I lean closer, "It only makes me want to teach you some discipline."

I watch as Taehyung’s knuckles go white as he clenches his beer. Concerned that the glass might shatter in his grip and hurt him, I slowly place my hand over his, “Relax, baby.”

"You can't just say things like that, noona!" Taehyung moans, shifting in his seat.

"And why not?" I tease as he takes a long sip of his beer with his head tilted back and his throat muscles moving in a way that made me want to do bad things.

I blink, "You know what? Forget it. Let's just start over, okay?"

Taehyung bites his lip, “Okay, sure.” He gestures to the bartender for another round, “Let’s play a game.”

My response is automatic. “Alright, Jigsaw. What kind of game?”

“Just a nice harmless game of ‘Never Have I Ever’, (y/n). Nothing untoward, I promise.”

My eyes narrow at his way-too-innocent smile and his archaic use of ‘untoward’. “Fine,” I arch an eyebrow, “But I have a few stipulations.”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t, noona,” he scoots his stool closer to me, “Lay ‘em on me.”

Oh, I will, my inner hoe responds.

Out loud, I reply, “The game can be stopped at any time, and you have to explain your answers if the other person asks.”

“Done,” he grins, “Never have I ever gotten my nipples pierced.”

“That’s targeting!” I exclaim indignantly, “You’ve seen them, you prick.”

“I haven't tasted them. At least, not yet,” his eyes squint at my boobs which are currently well-covered by a jean jacket. “Jungkook has… That fucker,” he mumbles under his breath.

These boys and their jealousy... I shake my head. How had they managed to stay in a relationship with all of this possessiveness they clearly had going on? It's truly a mystery.

"My turn," I grin, "Never have I ever dyed my hair blue."

"This is really more of a teal-ish green, noona!" Taehyung tries to argue, and I scoff.

"Fine," he relents and mumbles under his breath, "Should have brought my paint swatches." After taking a sip of his drink, he switches gears, “Never have I ever wanted to date a frat boy?”

I sip my drink. He immediately demands clarification. I grin, “Those EXO boys are fine.”

His jaw clenches. Ooh, he does not like that answer.

“EXO?” he snarls, "Over my dead body."

My eyebrow quirks up, “Well, that's a bit dramatic. They seem like nice boys.”

"Nice boys?" Taehyung cocks his head, "Noona, those aren't your type."

He's right. I push him further, “And what is my type then, Tae?”

“Boys that challenge you.”

He’s right again, but I’d rather not give him the satisfaction of knowing it. His ego is already inflated enough. I smile inwardly and say, “You think you have me all figured out, Kim.”

Taehyung surprises me as he breaks into a loud laugh, “No, not even close. But I’m a persistent boy so maybe I’ll get there one day.”

Just then I realize how close to one another we’ve gotten. Our sides are touching, and his hand has apparently been gripping my thigh for who knows how long. I stare at it, examining the adorning rings on his pointer and index fingers.

Are those fucking Gucci?

He must notice my gaze on his hand because he squeezes my thigh, and I smily at him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Taehyung looks at me like I’m something precious, something divine. I want to shatter that image. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin him.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, noona?”

“Kiss me.” And he does.

Taehyung kisses me over and over. I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed it. His mouth is tender on mine, and with every exhale, he lets out the slightest moan, which almost seems like a plea for more.

He’s gentler than I remember. His mouth is warm and soft; his caresses are leisurely and unhurried.

I pull back slightly to look him in his eyes. They are dazed, unfocused.

My lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Be a good boy and meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

With that, I saunter away towards the back bathroom which usually tends to be cleaner due to its slightly hidden nature.

Knocking on the door, I strain my ears for any sign of a reply. Nothing. I enter the dim room and immediately catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is everywhere, and I immediately grab the hair-tie around my wrist.

I pause, a sinful idea coming to mind.

A knock sounds. “Noona?” A deep voice calls, and I open the door, grab Tae by the collar, and tug him inside.

“Noona, you’re feisty tonight I-” I cut him off with my mouth.

I don’t hesitate as my mouth consumes his and my body presses him against the wall. My tongue finds his as my hips grind into him. He whimpers, and it’s such a beautiful sound.

After feeling him throb through his clothes, the thought I had earlier returns.

Stepping back, I grab my hair-tie and tug my hair up into a ponytail. Taehyung whines as I slowly sink to my knees before him, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Is this okay?” I question, gazing up at the beautiful boy above me, “Do you want my mouth, baby?”

“Shit, yeah,” Taehyung wraps my ponytail in his hand and lightly pulls me closer.

Does he think he’s suddenly in charge?

I flick open his belt before tugging his pants down. His cock strains against his silky black boxers and I give into the temptation to suck on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck, please, noona,” the stuttered curse comes from above, and I smile.

I pull his boxers down, grasping his cock and stroking lightly.

And, without warning, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. “Goddamn,” Tae hisses, fingers sliding into my hair. He pulls my hair-tie out and replaces its hold with his fist.

I take him as far as I can, blowing him and stroking the parts of his cock I can’t get to with my mouth.

“Shit, fuck, please,” he begs, looking down at me with wild eyes and a fucked out expression, “Don’t stop, (y/n).”

Stop? Never. The power trip is too delicious.

My mouth bobs on his cock as he bucks, trying to fuck my mouth. My hands grab his ass to control his movements as I slide my mouth off of him.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, baby?” I tilt my head to the side as one of my hands resumes its ministrations.

“Y-yes,” The boy gasps above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, I’m so close, noona.”

“Hmm, are you going to be my good boy, Taehyung-ie?” My hand halts, and he whines, his hips straining to keep moving in my hand. I squeeze him, “Well?”

“Yes!” He moans, repeating, “I’m your good boy. I’m noona’s good boy.”

“That’s what I thought.” My mouth closes around his cock again and sucks him hard.

“Fuck.” I watch enraptured as Taehyung’s head falls back against the wall, and then he’s coming.

His body convulses above me as I swallow ever last bit of him. After he finishes, I pull my mouth away to kiss the underside of his cock, his balls, the insides of his thighs. Above me, he’s muttering my name like a prayer.

“You can let go of my hair now, Tae,” I laugh, my voice slightly hoarse. Reaching up, I lightly tug his hold from me and slide my discarded hair-tie off of his wrist. Standing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and turn to face him.

He’s tugging his pants up and staring at me with a darkening expression, his nostrils flared. “Let me taste you, noona. Ride my face.” The tenor of his voice washes over me, tempting me with its rough words.

“You haven’t earned that yet.” I start towards the door, but Taehyung darts in front of it, effectively cutting me off.

“I just want to please you, babe. Come on,” his begging only solidifies my resolve.

“You already have pleased me, Tae,” I swipe a thumb across his cheek as he pouts.

“But I could please you even more with my mouth!”

This boy. I grab his neck lightly, “Listen, baby, I’m going to say this once. When I ride your face, you’ll be tied up across my bed at my mercy. Got it?”

His body becomes pliant under my words and my light grip. I gently shift him out of the way of the exit. “Now, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, my good boy.”

The parting smile I send him is absolutely lethal, and it only grows bigger when I hear him blurt out a grumbled “holy fuck” as I strut away from him.

a/n: yeeeeeee things are really heating up *fans self* hope y’all liked it!! ALSO, s/o to tay aka @loveejoon for being featured UWU

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

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Sexual Perv - Revenge is Sweeter When They Don't Know It's You

So this is a story about a guy I considered a friend. To this day, he has absolutely no idea that I am the main person who exposed him and I hope to keep it that way.

The main characters in this story are Myself, Badass Pilot, Girlfriend1, Girlfriend2 and Girlfriend3, Young Female Pilot, and a bunch of other randos needed to fill out the story. I witnessed most of this myself, but I also included details from other people who witnessed things when I was not there. I fully trust the sources of the reports.

So Badass Pilot is a pilot, as the name suggests, but he doesn't work for an airline. He started teaching at a flight school in his 20s but decided to strike out on his own because, as he told everyone else, he could do it better. He spends the next few years trying to destroy the reputation of his first employer. Badass Pilot is a very likeable guy and lots of people think he's awesome and believe him. I am one of them.

Now when he starts out, he drives a super shitty car, doesn't have an office, gets evicted from his apartment for not paying rent, and so on. But people like him and they help him set up a school and help fix it up, and generally give him a hand. Every once in a while people get pissed off at him because he does shitty things to other people, but his circle of friends defend him and just think he's great. He tells these pretty whopping tales, he's funny, and people naturally like to be with him. A lot of his stories have made-up details designed to put other people down, but he tells them in a highly entertaining way. His behavior is a bit crazy, and some of the reason people hang out with him is that he will do crazy stuff that is not normal, plus now he throws good parties.

He also has this cute girlfriend, Girlfriend1, and they end up living together. To be clear, she is pretty cool, definitely not a raging B, is fun, throws him a huge party for his 30th birthday, and so on. Now, while he's with Girlfriend1, he is still coming on to other women when she's not looking. A couple of times I have seen him totally love bomb a hot girl, usually someone in a vulnerable position like if he knows she's going through a bad breakup. He showers them with attention, gets them totally interested in him, says Girlfriend1 cheated on him, they're on a break, or some other such story that isn't true. He sleeps with them, and then he ghosts them and says they're crazy, and does anything else he can to get rid of them so Girlfriend1 doesn't get suspicious. As an example, after he cheated on Girlfriend1 with one girl, she tried to get in touch with him after he ghosted her, which is a actually a reasonable thing to do. Instead of talking to her himself, Badass Pilot lied and told everyone she was crazy and was stalking him, reported her to his friends at the police department, and had the police call her and tell her to shove off. On top of that, he also starts telling these crazy stories about Girlfriend1, totally criticizing her behind her back, telling everyone what a loser she is, and generally not appreciating having a relationship that most people would love to have. So you get the idea on how he treats women.

When Badass Pilot and Girlfriend1 finally break up, he told everyone that SHE was cheating on HIM when it was the other way around. His excuse for tanking an interview for his dream job was that he discovered Girlfriend1 was cheating the night before, he was an emotional wreck and that's why he flubbed the interview. There were a bunch of inconsistencies with his timeline and I knew it wasn't true but he told the story to anyone within earshot and people just accepted his version of events. And so he made everyone hate the ex and feel sorry for him, which is a common theme.

So anyhow, he and Girlfriend1 break up, he is drinking heavily, partying all the time, and a bunch of us get a front row seat as he comes close to destroying his life, parties hard, acts like a sleaze, hits on women constantly, and works his way through any woman who will sleep with him setting some new low records.

A few months later he hooks up with one of his students, let's call her Girlfriend2, and pretty much immediately moves into her house. This seems to stabilize him and help him get his life on track. Over the next few years he gets a cush offer flying corporate charters. He's a likeable guy, which helps him get a sweet contract as a private pilot for a billionaire, which he brags about nonstop to everyone. They also pay for him to get trained to fly jets. He gets a new car that doesn't look like a piece of shit, and he lives in a nice house. His flight school is no longer a frat house and it's more of a family friendly environment. Girlfriend2 helps him out at the flight school and life is pretty good for Badass Pilot.

To put the icing on the cake, the FAA is looking for new blood to fill a highly prestigious job of pilot examiner. These are people who are pilots with a lot of experience, well respected members of the local community with good judgment and a lot of power over student pilots and other flight schools. They also tend to make tons of money because they can charge any price people will pay to get their license and there isn't a lot of competition. Badass Pilot has friends at the FAA who like him, and he gets the job. He brags to people that it's like printing money tax free since students have to pay in cash (sounds weird, I know, but it's true) and he says the IRS doesn't need to know about it. So Badass Pilot is now in his 30's at the pinnacle of his career, earning tons of money, and has lots of power over people in the industry. And the success really goes to Badass Pilot's head.

Now, as you might have guessed, Badass Pilot is still the same person he was before, just with a lot more money, power, and success.

Badass Pilot still likes to brag loudly that he is the best instructor around and he has the best flight school. He still tells people how bad other flight schools in the area are, even though he shouldn't be saying anything due to his job as an examiner. He talks about his friends and his students and tells embarrassing stories about them, but I don't think much of it because they're funny and they're not about me. It doesn't really register with me at the time, but he is really good at getting other people to pile on and hate the people he hates and really good at destroying peoples reputations behind their back with things that turn out to be total lies. I start to hear him put down Girlfriend2 and say things about her that I know aren't true. I still don't pay attention to it because there are lots of loud guys in aviation who like to brag and make up stories. I continue to think of him as a friend and have even confided in him about something that I am sensitive about and looked to him for advice.

So one day when I'm in town I was hanging out with him and a bunch of people at the Badass Pilot flight school shooting the breeze. After I left I realized I forgot something, so came in the back way through the mechanic shop next door. I heard him talking in his very loud voice so everyone could hear, and that's when I realized he was talking about me. Not only was he talking about me, but he was totally lying about my embarrassing situation, made it totally different and a thousand times worse than what it was, and turned it into something that could potentially end my career. I thought he respected me and was my friend, but he was destroying my reputation and tearing me down behind my back.

Luckily nobody saw me and I slinked out the way I came in. I spent weeks feeling humiliated and betrayed. I reflected on the way I had seen him treat people and started to see things in a different light.

Now, I knew that he had tanked some careers. He has a lot of contacts in the industry, and he has bragged about calling companies that are hiring and telling them not to hire certain people. One of his favorite sayings is that aviation is a small world and you shouldn't burn any bridges because it will come back to bite you in the ass. He bragged several times about bringing people down a peg and making someone he disliked lose a job they had applied for by calling the company owner. Usually he did it because he wanted to take revenge for something he thought they did to him, but he was also jealous of people who graduated college (he didn't) and people who came from stable families (he didn't). He would always talk about how bad his home life was as a child and really try to get people to feel sorry for him. Keep in mind he's an adult in his late 30s.

I also knew that despite becoming more stable with GF2, he had not changed his ways with women. He acted like he respected women in front of GF2. But every time he was off on a trip, and even at his own airport, he could get pretty aggressive with women would push them hard to see how far he could take things.

As an example, he flirted aggressively with the receptionist at the building next door from his flight school. The receptionist was young and relatively new and had no idea Girlfriend2 existed. She (F18 or 19) called the Badass Pilot flight school and left a flirty message for Badass Pilot (M35), totally in line with how Badass Pilot was interacting with her. I was not there, but a witness said GF2 played the message on the machine and made Badass Pilot listen to it. He sheepishly said he had no idea why she would leave such a message, and Girlfriend2 told him in no uncertain terms that he was obviously leading her on, exploiting a young woman, and he needed to stop. Then, instead of taking responsibility for his own actions, Badass Pilot took revenge on the young girl. He immediately complained to the airport manager and got her fired. She ended up packing her stuff in a box and leaving that same day. So, while Badass Pilot is fun to be around as long as you're on his good side, he will F** you up if he thinks you are against him. I knew I had to be careful.

I wasn't sure yet what I was going to do, but I decided I needed to be close in order to get more information. So I sucked it up, pretended I wasn't humiliated and had never heard him talking about me, and spent more days at the flight school when I had time off. Everyone at the flight school was in and out all the time, so sometimes I'd be the only person there and I could easily sit down behind Badass Pilot's desk and start scrolling through his files.

That's when I hit the jackpot.

Badass Pilot was logged into all the same accounts on his desktop that he was on his phone, email, messaging, everything. And boy did he like to text. Now one of the things some of his students complained about was that Badass Pilot would not stop texting, even when he was supposed to be instructing people in the plane. He even lost a few students who were so annoyed by him texting during a lesson that they went somewhere else for lessons. And now I knew why.

Badass Pilot was a sex addict.

That's the only way I can describe it. Some people might describe him as a serial sexual harasser. His entire messaging history was full of cybersex, photos, videos, you name it, it was right there on his computer. I copied everything. I played the videos and recorded them on my phone, I took the snapshots, I took pictures of the texts. I must have spent an hour trying to copy this stuff and I ran out of time because someone came back, so I minimized the tabs and casually left the office.

I enlisted the help of another aviator that Badass Pilot had screwed over and we went through the treasure trove with a fine tooth comb. We had to research the phone numbers to find out who these people were and we classified them into "known aviation" and other. We even found that he was doing the nasty with a couple of people there at the flight school...not quite the family friendly environment everyone thought it was.

It became clear that his cybersex activity made him totally ineligible to be an FAA examiner. Plenty of the texts were just plain sexual harassment from a guy with a lot of power in the aviation industry, flirting with and pressuring young women who were hoping to become pilots for everything from sexy photos to sexual acts, sometimes pretending it was all just a big joke. He had no problems sending dick pics to women. That in and of itself made him unqualified to be an examiner. However, he went even further and had sexual contact with at least one person he tested. This is extremely dangerous because it compromises his ability to evaluate if someone is able to pilot a plane safely. If he is threatened with a lawsuit or criminal charge and has to test one of these women, or even someone they know, he might be coerced to pass an unsafe pilot, which could result in death.

August 2017

My pilot friend and I decide the best thing to do is send the information to the FAA, but we know we have to do it anonymously because our careers could be on the line. So we carefully packaged up a bunch of evidence, sent it in to the FAA office that he reported to, and waited for the fallout.

AND. NOTHING. HAPPENED.

The FAA literally ignored evidence that they had a sexual predator as a pilot examiner. This is a pretty old boys club environment, so maybe not too surprising.

For our next attempt we approached a Young Female Pilot we identified from the evidence who seemed like she tried to stop Badass Pilot when he got out of hand with her. We approached her to see if she would be willing to come forward and tell the FAA about her experience. She basically said all it would do was get her slut-shamed and blacklisted, especially after she heard that the FAA did nothing with our anonymous package we sent in. She said Badass Pilot would most likely ruin her career and nobody would hire her and he would make sure her reputation was destroyed. I had to agree.

Fast forward to 2018: I Make Him Homeless

I thought maybe I should just tell Girlfriend2 about what I had found, but I kept chickening out. I also didn't want to be exposed myself, as I have to protect my career and I was certain Badass Pilot would try to destroy me if he found out. One morning I was sitting in the school playing with the ipad while Girlfriend2 was behind the desk. Wouldn't you know it, she is texting Badass Pilot, who is flying, and Badass Pilot is logged into the flight school ipad I'm using! I can see her messages to him, and I can also see that he had cybersex with someone the night before and that he sent a video of himself masturbating to a student before that! I take photos for evidence, as usual.

Girlfriend2 is reading and not looking up at me so I just mumble something and hand her the ipad with the sexting open full screen as I walk out the door. I wait in the parking lot in my car, and about 10 minutes later, Girlfriend2 leaves the school with the ipad in hand and drives home.

I made sure to be scarce the rest of that day as I didn't want to raise any suspicions about my own involvement. Apparently Girlfriend2 owns the property where they live, so she immediately moved his stuff out and permanently banned Badass Pilot, who started sleeping at the flight school. From what I pieced together that week, Girlfriend2 was so alarmed by the evidence that she demanded that Badass Pilot see a therapist or she would report him to the authorities and he could potentially be arrested. One thing I should mention is that Girlfriend2 has a child, which is important. Badass Pilot was using her child to set up booty calls for himself (set up playdate with another child, have sex with child's mother while kids are paying video games).

Badass Pilot slept on a cot in the flight school, stayed drunk, and looked like a homeless person for a couple of months before he ended up getting his own place.

We also let Badass Pilot's billionaire employer know that he was a sexual predator, as well as a few other people anonymously. I wanted to make sure Girlfriend2 knew all the gory details of Badass Pilot's sexual activities in case she was even considering getting back together with him after he did therapy, so I kept sending her more information anonymously too.

Young Female Pilot kept in contact and apparently had some conversation with other female pilots. Nobody was willing to go on record but they all started sending anonymous letters to the FAA hoping they would at least investigate him.

The next thing I hear is that Badass Pilot is telling everyone that he broke up with Girlfriend2, that she is crazy and trying to destroy his reputation, and that she's sending false anonymous letters to the FAA because she's jealous. From what we could tell, the FAA interviewed Badass Pilot, but nothing happened because he blamed Girlfriend2 for sending the letters. True to form, Badass Pilot also made sure everyone at the flight school hated her and felt sorry that that he was being victimized by her. He also called the police and told them she was harassing him and told them he was banning her from his flight school.

Nothing else happens. This all starts to die down and Badass Pilot is still an examiner. He still works for his billionaire boss as well as a very wealthy owner of a car dealership who also races cars, and he still runs a flight school with plenty of students. Again, he starts sleeping with another student at the school, who will now be named Girlfriend3. Badass Pilot continues to complain to everyone that he has been victimized by Girlfriend2. Badass Pilot gets Girlfriend3 (who has never met Girlfriend2) so wound up about her that she is spitting tacks every time she is mentioned. This is important later.

Fast forward to 2019: WTF?!

Not only has Badass Pilot not been punished by the FAA, but the FAA has INCREASED his responsibilities so that now he can also conduct instrument flight exams for students!

Young Female Pilot stays in touch and we talk periodically, sworn to secrecy, of course. We have a couple of male pilots who are also sworn to secrecy to protect our own jobs. When the FAA promoted Badass Pilot to instrument examiner despite all of the complaints they had received, Young Female Pilot and her friends get really pissed off. They are still unwilling to risk their own jobs, however. (Reader, please don't judge me or Young Female Pilot for this...it is very expensive to become a pilot, easy to get blacklisted by someone at the FAA or someone like Badass Pilot, and then you have no way to make a living or to pay back a huge amount of student loans if you're in debt.)

So we hatch a plan to have her call Girlfriend2 and tell her about the frustrations of the other female pilots in hopes that she will think of something to do. A detail I should mention, Girlfriend2 does not fly for a career, and she has her own business not related to aviation. So Young Femail Pilot calls Girlfriend2 on someone else's phone. Girlfriend2 doesn't know Young Female Pilot and we don't think she would betray her, but the situation is still very risky for Young Female Pilot She discusses how frustrating it is that a serial sexual harasser gets promoted by the FAA with no consequences when the FAA knows about his harassment, and Girlfriend2 agrees that she will try to make information public to protect other women. She agrees to post a review on Yelp and maybe some other platforms.

I do my best to be at the Badass Pilot flight school when this goes down. True to her word, Girlfriend2 posts a very straightforward and factual Yelp review and heads EXPLODE at the flight school! People are forwarding the review on and it spreads like wildfire all over the aviation industry. Think "owner sends messages of himself masturbating to female students." Yikes! And totally true!

Other people have posted unfavorable reviews before, but Badass Pilot has been able to have them taken down, falsely claiming that the review is a fake account or from a competing flight school. But there has been nothing like this that I know of. Badass Pilot and Girlfriend3 (who now appears to be a co-owner of the flight school and who has posted a positive review of the school on Yelp) go into damage control mode. Badass Pilot tries to get Girlfriend2 arrested or at least harassed by his friends at the local police department. He's frantically trying to get the review shut down with Yelp. His brain is literally exploding and I, along with everyone else at the school, am agreeing with him that Girlfriend2 is a total lying, crazy, conniving, vindictive B, and that she needs to be punished.

All while laughing on the inside.

Badass Pilot next engages one of his instructors, who was friends with Girlfriend2, to meet with her and ask her to take down the review, but she does not. Badass Pilot is finally successful in getting Yelp to remove the review a day or two later. The same process also happens with another platform that shall remain nameless.

Badass Pilot gets everyone to bombard Girlfriend2 with hate mail, which makes me glad I am still anonymous. Badass Pilot also tells the instructors at his school that they are not allowed to be friends with Girlfriend2 and they will be fired if they are.

Fast forward to August 2019: Mission Accomplished!

What happened to Badass Pilot:

We later found out that the FAA ended up doing an investigation on Badass Pilot. Finally. Badass Pilot totally lost all of his examiner privileges. On top of that, his flight school had an FAA written testing center, which was also permanently closed. And even beyond that, Badass Pilot can't have any affiliation with the FAA in any way, shape, or form. He can't even host an educational seminar or continuing credits class for the FAA.

While some up and coming pilots and people outside the industry might never hear about Badass Pilot being totally humiliated and losing his examiner status, believe me when I tell you that everyone in the profession knows what happened. And it has got to BURN!

What happened to me:

I am pretty much back to enjoying my time at the airport like I used to. There are still parties and flyouts, and ultimately some people don't care that Badass Pilot sexually harasses women or destroys peoples careers. But he has definitely been taken down a peg, as he likes to say. I just don't trust anything Badass Pilot says and I don't heap on other people he's trying to destroy. I still feel a little twinge of delight whenever I hear Badass Pilot tell new students that he used to be an examiner, but the liability insurance was too high so he quit.

Another thing that I get a chuckle out of is that Badass Pilot has started talking behind Girlfriend3's back. I tried to warn her and even sent her (anonymously, of course) information about Badass Pilot. But so far Girlfriend3 is standing by her man, and I'm just sitting here eating popcorn watching the story unfold again!

TL/DR Friend who is a badass pilot screws me over, I find out he's a sexual perv and get him fired from his job.

(source) story by (/u/flyingmonkey737)

#prorevenge #by /u/flyingmonkey737 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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moonflowerlesbians · 4 years ago

Text

count your blessings instead of sheep

Hello, friends! Back in November, I decided to partake in my first fandom Secret Santa exchange. I’m not much of an artist, so I opted for the holiday-themed fic route, and this one-shot was born. So, @satelitesprite I hope you enjoy, and Merry Christmas! Thank you so much to @damiesecretsanta for organizing.

Read this work on AO3.

Title: count your blessings instead of sheep, Rated T, Word Count: 4763

Summary: In which Dani takes Jamie's White Christmas comment a bit too seriously. (But Jamie's absolutely not complaining.)

~~~

One day at a time, they’d said. Jamie had looked at her so earnestly, spoken with such conviction, as if by sheer force of will she would bend the world, stacked so vehemently against them, to her whims. And, Dani supposes, she may as well have succeeded. They’re still here, after all. Still together. Still alive.

Jamie had said something else, too, that same day. A confession she’d admitted almost shamefully. A film about honoring memories and protecting what matters. A sight she’d like to see.

Dani gets to thinking, planning, scheming, if one could call it that. She makes a silent promise, to Jamie and then herself.

If they make it until December, Vermont is as good a place to spend the holidays as anywhere, she thinks.

Dani can’t seem to stop moving. The cuticle on her thumb is raw and bitten; her legs, one crossed over the other, bounce, bumping the tray table in front of her on occasion and nearly sending her drink toppling into her lap. She all but leaps out of her seat when Jamie places a hand on her knee.

“Easy, there,” Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Tremble any more and you’ll disrupt radio frequencies.”

It’s a weak attempt at humor, but Dani appreciates it nonetheless. The little notebook in her breast pocket burns a hole in her blouse, stuffed full of ideas and anticipatory hope.

“Might be able to help if you told me where we’re headed.”

She’s been trying for weeks to nose her way into Dani’s plans, to glean some inkling of direction since Dani first hinted, one quiet evening in early November, that maybe thinking about Christmas isn’t such a bad idea.

“Yeah?” Jamie had said, soft, not quite believing. The future, their future, had been a taboo topic, danced around like an active bomb.

“Yeah,” Dani confirmed, “trust me?”

“‘Course.”

Then it had been library visits and guidebooks and scribbling telephone numbers on lined pages and Jamie-don’t-you-dare-open-that-box.

Dani rocks with the gentle movement of the train beneath her as it rounds a bend in the tracks.

“Whatever happened to the fun of not knowing?” Dani tries for a tease but falls somewhere just short of playground wedding jitters. A little confused and perhaps regretting her choices. She clears her throat. “I just,” she sighs, “I want you to have a good time.”

Jamie scoffs. “Ah, well, you know how difficult I am to please. Such high standards and all.” She gestures to the tray table between them, littered with snack-sized pretzel packets and a can of seltzer to share.

Dani rolls her eyes. “The picture of refinement.” Jamie pops her shirt collar with a huff and a wry smile that earn her a playful kick to the shin, and she pouts. “Still not telling you.”

Jamie retracts her lower lip, her ploy failed. “Should’ve known I wouldn’t get you to crack on the last day. A steel trap, you are.”

Dani snorts at the obvious exaggeration. They both know just a lingering stare from Jamie has her weak at the knees.

She can’t say she’s complaining.

On the subject of their trip, though, she has managed to keep impressively silent, offering only such vague clues as, “Thoughts on the desert?” and “D’you suppose four thousand is too much if it’s a room with a balcony?” At latter of which, Jamie had gone slightly pale, but she had declared, albeit shakily, something along the lines of, “whatever makes you happy,” as she blanched.

And, oh, how Dani had loved her for it.

As the temperate trees outside their window turn to evergreens and the cold trickles in from the mountains, it becomes abundantly clear that Dani has not brought them to the desert. Just one more stop until theirs, and Dani can’t help the flash of worry that streaks through her like lightning.

She’s a perfectionist by nature. Or, at least, she was. Likes her ducks in a row, likes her trains on time and her schedules stuck to. These past months have been agony, each day a guessing game, no way to be sure what will come next. She understands the necessity, has tried to embrace it, even, but when the opportunity presented itself for her to plan something concrete, she leapt at it.

Jamie had stepped back, understanding how badly Dani needed this. A part of her, she told Dani, late in the night, wrapped in blankets and sweet embraces, was simply glad Dani could bear to think of the future, even short term.

When they left Bly, Dani would not allow herself to entertain the thought of next week, much less next year. But, as time slid past with no sign of her co-inhabitant, she relaxed, millimeter by millimeter, drop by drop, the tension slipped from her body. The paranoia, the jolt of terror upon rounding a corner, looking into a mirror, faded gradually each time she saw only herself, one eye brown, one blue.

Each day with Jamie pervaded her idea of “normal” until that is what their life became. Normal. Waking up together, seeking out breakfast, exchanging quips before setting about their adventure of the day felt...normal. A remarkable concept for the woman whose notion of normal shattered with a pair of glasses.

She sits across from the woman she thinks of as her best friend and marvels at how different her life was, even just a year ago, when the sentiment of a Christmas with someone she loves was unfathomable. She can only hope Jamie doesn’t hate it.

Jamie, who is folding the tray up and sweeping crumbs into her palm to dispose of, only to realize she has nowhere to put them. She looks around for a moment, mumbles a shit to herself, and stands to toss them in the bin in the restroom, while Dani watches affectionately.

“What?” Jamie says, when she returns, gathering her things.

“Didn’t think that one all the way through, did you?” Dani says, a little smug. It’s not really a question.

“You said one more stop, yeah? Thought we should be ready.”

“Eager?”

“You’re having a go at me,” she rags, “Been building this up for a month. Can’t blame a woman for being a wee bit curious.”

A conductor wanders past, loudly announcing the next stop.

“Vermont, eh?” Jamie wraps the strap of her bag around her hand once, twice. She’s nervous, too, Dani realizes. The unpredictability has taken a toll on her, as well. Jamie, who woke up at five-thirty like clockwork, who tended to the same plants on the same grounds with the same tools, who saw the same five people each day. She likes routine, just as Dani does.

Perhaps, should they make it to the new year, it’s time to find a place to plant themselves. A place to call their own, if Jamie will have her. Somewhere to land. The thought sends a thrill through her.

Dani nods. “Trust me?”

Jamie studies her. “Always.”

Dani collects her belongings from the overhead as the train slows to a creaking stop at the platform. They appear to be the only two disembarking. Unsurprising, really. From Dani’s research, the town’s population is in the low thousands. The station, a one-story, low building, is rustic, all exposed wood and lantern lighting fixtures.

“Clayton?” An older man calls as they step off the train. He leans against the hood of a town car emblazoned with the logo of his proprietor.

Holiday Inn, Est. 1942

“That’s me,” Dani chirps, meeting him halfway from the tracks, where he takes the bags from her arms with an amiable nod. Jamie follows him to the trunk -- boot, as she insists it’s called -- and drops her rucksack next to Dani’s, while Dani, herself, opens the door with a grand flourish. “M’lady.”

Jamie sends the driver a sidelong glance, but he slides into the front seat without a word. She accepts Dani’s invitation and turns to her once they settle a respectable distance apart on the back bench. The driver, Wallace, as he introduces himself, turns the key in the ignition.

“So, the Holiday Inn?” Jamie prods. “Wasn’t aware the big hotels did shuttle services now.”

“Not a hotel,” Dani corrects.

“No?”

“An inn.”

“Ah, thanks, love, that clears it right up,” Jamie deadpans, but there’s no bite to her words.

“Hold your horses,” Dani placates, “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Can’t feel my bloody hands, been holding these damn horses so long.”

Dani swats her across the stomach. “Quiet, you.”

“Oi, ‘s no way to start a holiday, is it?”

“So, what brings you across the pond?” Wallace cuts in, the car rounding a bend on its climb up the mountain. “We don’t get many Brits around here.”

Jamie looks to Dani, a smirk curling upon her lips. “Not entirely sure, actually. You want to take this one, Poppins?”

“She hasn’t been stateside since we were kids,” Dani supplies. “I thought it might be a nice change of pace to spend the holidays with my cousin since it’s been so long.” Then, muttering to only Jamie, “She’s more sarcastic than I remember.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. You know, I haven’t been overseas since the war. Can’t bring myself to fly these days.” He continues to regale them with stories of his time in France, and they allow his tales to fill the silence for the duration of the ride, Dani offering polite interjections wherever appropriate. This is, in part, a way to keep Jamie from asking questions and spoiling the surprise mere moments from its fulfillment.

They turn onto a narrow road lined with towering fir trees. Undisturbed snow from a recent bout of winter weather bows the branches. Jamie watches out the window, transfixed by the changing landscape. Dani cannot see her face.

“Here we are,” Wallace says, with a note of pride. “She needs a little work, but she’s home.”

A house comes into sight as the car crests a hill, a three-story colonial with a broad front porch and white trim. Rocking chairs perch near the railings, and pale blue shutters frame tall windows. An old barn stands a little ways down, weather-worn, but charming.

Dani hears a quick inhalation from beside her. Jamie’s gaze is fixed straight ahead. Dani’s stomach flips.

Their car pulls up in front of the lodge, and Wallace grabs their bags from the rear.

“We’ll be just a sec,” Dani says.

Jamie’s back is to her as she turns in a slow circle, absorbing the scenery, until her eyes come to rest on Dani, who fidgets with the nail on her index finger.

“So,” she begins, “I, um, I know we said we’d take it slow. But, you said snow could be nice, and you’ve done so much for me, and I just wanted to give you this one thing, but I get it if it’s too much or too cold. I just thought, you know, it might be nice since you said you saw White Christmas as a kid that one time, and I know it was probably a joke, but--”

“Dani,” Jamie interrupts, with a saccharine laugh and the most gentle smile, “love, not to interrupt what was shaping up to be quite the eloquent speech, but this,” she gestures at the picturesque cabin and the trees and the mountainside, “this, you didn’t have to do all of this.” She looks around hesitantly, then takes one of Dani’s hands in her own. “I almost forgot I mentioned that story, but, apparently, you didn’t.”

Dani grins sheepishly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jamie assures, “this is stunning. Everything I could’ve imagined. But, and I’m sure I’m starting to sound like a broken record, I would be just as happy spending Christmas in a shack under a bridge, so long as I’m sharing that shack with you.”

“I’d like to think this is at least a few steps up from a shack.”

“Oh, it most certainly is. Can’t say I’m mad about it, either. Quite fond of being warm, you know.”

“Speaking of,” Dani segues, “inside?”

“Please.”

Dani drops her hand and leads Jamie up the porch steps, the old wood groaning underfoot.

“Dani Clayton?” A portly woman steps out from behind a counter.

“Present,” Dani says brightly.

“Anne,” the woman replies merrily, “I believe we spoke on the phone. Welcome, the both of you, to the Holiday Inn. Such a pleasure to host this little family reunion.”

Jamie appears perplexed for only a moment. “Jamie,” she greets, accepting the proffered handshake, “lovely to meet you.”

“Right, well, your room is up the stairs to the right, third door in.” Anne smooths her apron and passes Dani a key. “Wallace, my husband, should’ve dropped off any luggage, and please join us and the other guests for Christmas Eve dinner tonight, won’t you?”

“We’ll be there,” Dani promises.

“So, cousins, then?” Jamie prompts once Dani has inserted the key into their lock.

“I figured it was the easiest way to get around two women sleeping in the same room,” Dani says apologetically. “Family bonding, and all.”

“S’pose sisters wouldn’t have made sense with the accent.”

“We look nothing alike.” Dani shuts the door behind them. “Wouldn’t have been believable.” She flops unceremoniously onto one of the two double beds. The pale pink quilt wrinkles as Jamie sits, leaning back against the oak headboard. The windows are shut, but the off-white, lavender-printed curtains sway in an unfelt breeze, and a small fire crackles in the brick hearth. The sun is just beginning to set over the treetops, casting the room in a golden haze.

“‘S nice here,” Jamie remarks. “Feels familiar.”

“I, um, I may have picked this place because it looks like the one in the movie. Had them fax me images of the rooms to find one--”

“That looks like the one Betty and Judy shared in White Christmas,” Jamie finishes, noting the white doors and gleaming brass knobs.

“And, the inn, too. I tried to find out if we could go to the real one where they filmed, but turns out it was a set on a soundstage in California.”

“You mean to tell me the painted backdrops were just,” she gasps for dramatic effect, causing Dani to laugh, “painted backdrops?”

Dani groans. “In hindsight, it should’ve been more obvious, but at least I tried?”

“And an admirable effort it was,” Jamie chuckles, tugging Dani’s sleeve until she moves up the bed to lay her head on Jamie’s shoulder. “Looks just like the real thing, right down to my very own Judy.” She presses a kiss to the top of Dani’s head.

“Mm, I think you might just have a thing for blondes in turtlenecks.”

“Seven-year-old Jamie might’ve been a wee bit taken with Vera-Ellen,” Jamie shrugs. “Who’s to say?” She continues, “Not a lot of pretty blondes for me to fall for back in those days.”

“Oh, well, as long as she’s pretty,” Dani teases.

“Happen to like my version much better, thank you. Terribly sorry, Vera, may you rest in peace; can’t hold a candle to Dani Clayton.”

“It’s because I made one of your childhood dreams come true, isn’t it.”

“Hm,” Jamie muses, “proud of that one, are you?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s wonderful, love,” Jamie speaks softly, raking easy fingers through Dani’s hair. “Promise.” A pause. Her hand freezes for a moment, then resumes its steady path. “No one…ah, no one’s done anything like this for me before.”

Jamie’s life thus far has been far from perfect, as Dani knows from the pieces Jamie has shared. Bouncing from home to home as a child and landing in with the wrong crowd. A life in which stability and consistency did not exist, in which Jamie came to learn that companionship--love--is conditional and hinges upon her ability to provide. At the first sign that she could not be serviceable, in some way or another, she was cast aside.

She learned to work with her hands. Plants cannot reject you, after all, and there are always cracks to be patched, leaky faucets to be repaired. To some, the work might feel tedious, but to Jamie, the monotony feels safe, providing her a sense of immutability in an otherwise turbulent life.

And, as Jamie tells it, three years into her residence at Bly, a goddamn American started traipsing about the garden, and everything went to shit.

More or less.

Dani thoroughly wraps herself around Jamie’s middle, eliminating any space that existed between them. Words fail her, but she hopes her message resonates all the same.

Things are different, now.

***

When they eventually untangle themselves, it’s in favor of washing away the grime of travel with a hot shower. Dani unpacks as Jamie steps under the spray, rejecting the proposal to join, on account of one of them should make sure they’re on time for dinner.

They’re still almost late, though, neither realizing that the barn they’d seen that afternoon doubled as the formal dining room, and they stumble in just in time to settle at a small table in the back of the packed hall.

“Didn’t realize this was dinner and a show,” Jamie comments, observing the raised platform at the front of the room.

“So, there may have been another reason I picked this place,” Dani explains in a whisper, so as not to irk the other patrons seated nearby. “They have this Christmas Eve tradition I read about in one of the travel books and--”

Music echoes through the space from a small pit orchestra set up to the side, and a spotlight illuminates the stage, where two figures are hidden by pale blue fans.

“They may, or may not,” Dani winces, face screwing up into a weak grimace, “kind of, invite local performance groups to do songs from the movie?” She bites her lip, peering at Jamie through one eye.

Jamie, for her part, appears equal parts enthralled and perturbed. “Gotta hand it to you, Poppins,” she says, mouth slightly agape, “You know how to keep to a theme.”

Dani likes to think she hadn’t been chair of the prom committee in high school for nothing. “I really hope you don’t absolutely hate this movie, or this will be a very awkward dinner.”

“Wasn’t one of my favorites,” Jamie admits, leaning in, “but it certainly is now.” Under the cover of the tablecloth, she grips Dani’s hand and gives a discrete squeeze, Dani relaxing at her touch. “It’s very sweet,” Jamie murmurs, amused. The silver chain resting around her neck reflects the stage light as she turns her head. The number draws to a close, met with enthusiastic whooping from the jovially intoxicated crowd.

A server delivers two plates, starter salads, to their table, jotting down polite requests for main courses and alcoholic beverages.

By the finale number, Dani is warm and a bit wine-drunk. Her chair has migrated, over the course of the evening, to perch mere inches from Jamie’s. The gardener’s fingers move with the melody, eyes closed, an easy smile on her lips. She hums under her breath to match the vocalist crooning into the microphone. Dani commits the sight to memory. Jamie, here, draped in flickering shadows, untroubled by good intentions, chores that ought to be done, single-sided debts to be paid to no one and everyone. She is utterly beautiful. And Dani is utterly smitten.

Perhaps it is the wine. Perhaps it is the security provided conveniently by the position of their tucked-away table. Dani parts the tablecloth and traces down Jamie’s slender wrist, their fingers slotting together like a key in a lock. She presses the briefest of kisses to Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie’s thumb runs over Dani’s knuckle.

The antique oil lamps lining the walls glimmer warmly, and the final verse of the reimagined Irving Berlin classic fades into applause.

It is snowing lightly when they wander back to the main building and into their room, faces flushed from the chill. Dani giggles, squirming away from Jamie pushing a cold nose into her neck. Jamie chases her, pins her to the door with a sound kiss. Dani cups the nape of her neck, holding her close. The flurries melted into her hair are cool against Dani’s palm.

“Good night?” Dani asks, pressing their foreheads together.

“Mm,” Jamie puffs against her lips, nuzzling closer “was perfectly splendid.”

“Was it, now?” Dani ribs coyly.

Jamie pulls back just far enough to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. “Dani,” her voice is insistent, sincere, “thank you.”

Dani feels herself blush under the intensity of Jamie’s stare.

“I mean it.” Jamie’s index finger curls pointedly under Dani’s chin, tilting her head up, and something pulls low in Dani’s gut. “Thank you.”

Her lips are soft, pliant beneath Dani’s, speaking volumes in the silence. The snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the earth in mysticism the way only a new snow can. In here, though, the air burns.

They break apart at their lungs’ insistence, chests heaving in unison, but they do not stray far, choosing instead to stay, wrapped up in each other, neither willing to allow the moment to pass. Jamie smells faintly of smoke and the inn’s shampoo. Her sweater stretches slightly in Dani’s insistent hands.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any mince pie and whiskey stashed away?” Jamie nods to the fireplace, lips kiss-swollen and hair mussed.

Dani pauses, a little taken aback, and feeling a bit like someone’s just doused her in icy water. “Do I have...what?”

“Have you got any mince pie and whiskey?”

A flash of panic shoots through her, and she runs through a mental checklist. Is there something she missed? Something Jamie had said?

“Um, should I?”

“What else are you supposed to leave Father Christmas?”

“Milk and cookies?”

“Milk and cookies,” Jamie scoffs in a poor imitation of Dani’s Midwestern accent, “how’s that going to keep a person going all night? Blimey, man’s got to travel ‘round the world, you know.”

“Blimey, must’ve left them in my other suitcase,” Dani laments, outlining the fair curve of Jamie’s collarbone, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin.

“A real shame.” Jamie’s exhale is a note heavier.

Dani hums, “Bet I can make up for it.”

Jamie’s brows rise. “Oh, can you, now?”

“Mhm,” Dani affirms, with a sigh. Before she can go any further, though, her face splits into a yawn, and any semblance of seduction is instantly dashed.

Jamie laughs, stepping away and checking the grandfather clock that stands in the corner of the room. “Half eleven. Ought to get you to bed.” She leans in, with a wink, “Santa won’t come if you’re not asleep.”

“Oh, come on,” Dani says reproachfully, rolling her eyes in a manner not dissimilar to chiding Owen’s god-awful puns. She tugs Jamie toward the wardrobe.

They slip between the sheets a short while later, lying close in the double bed, a perfect mess of legs and arms and contentment.

“‘S after midnight,” Jamie whispers, long after Dani thought her breathing had evened out. “Happy Christmas, love.”

Dani’s heart swells. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

***

Pale sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, coating the wallpaper in a serene glow. It’s rather poetic, Dani thinks, the way the light falls across Jamie’s sleeping face, highlighting the graceful tilt of her cheekbones, the button of her nose. Jamie looks ethereal in the morning, something Dani cannot truthfully claim about herself.

She traces the high arch of Jamie’s brow with her thumb, and the woman’s eyes flutter open. She blinks, adjusting to the feeling of being awake, until her gaze settles upon Dani, propped up on her elbow.

“G’morning, sleepyhead,” Dani coos.

“Been up long?” Jamie asks, voice low and sleep-rough.

“Not long,” Dani replies. “Was getting hungry, though. Thought you might like to see what Santa brought you before breakfast.”

Jamie sits up slowly, a cheeky grin turning up the corners of her lips. “As though waking up next to you isn’t enough?”

“Sweet-talker,” Dani says, nudging her, “It’s small, I promise.” She rolls out of bed, grimacing when her bare feet make contact with chilly wood. She rummages through her backpack, the one Jamie knows not to investigate, and emerges with a small, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. A red bow is stuck to the top, a little squished, but thankfully still intact. Dani crosses her legs on the bed.

“Now, hold on.” Jamie reaches for her rucksack, pulling out a newspaper-covered object. She sets it on the bed. If Dani didn’t know any better, she would think Jamie seems, almost, embarrassed. “Not much experience by way of gift-giving, I’m afraid.” She wrings her hands in her lap.

“Hey,” Dani soothes, “like you said. I’m happy just being with you, okay?”

Jamie gives her a small smile. She huffs, “Look at me, being all gloomy on Christmas morning. C’mon then, open it up.”

Dani picks at the newsprint, unfolding each section delicately, deliberately. As she peels away the final layer, in her hands, she holds a small camera and a few rolls of film. She looks to Jamie, who studies her carefully, gauging Dani’s reaction.

“Might be silly, but I thought, you know, all this traveling, might be nice to collect a few momentos. Have something to look back on a few years down the line.”

Years. Years. Years. Dani allows herself to imagine them, together, somewhere, anywhere, on a couch, years from now, turning the pages of a photo album.

Yes, she decides, years.

She must have some kind of expression on her face, because Jamie speaks. “Alright, there?” She says it casually, lightly, but underlying the words is a pool of worry. Worry that Jamie has overstepped, that she’s made a mistake, that Dani will cast her aside.

“Years,” Dani says. “Years,” she repeats, high-pitched and carefree. She captures Jamie’s lips in a kiss, a celebration of time gone by, a promise of time yet to come.

“Take it you like it, then?”

Yes, Dani wants to scream, God, yes. You’ve given me the future and there are not enough words in the world to explain how I feel about you.

She settles, instead, for inserting a roll of film and bringing the viewfinder to eye level, the lens pointed at Jamie, who still wears a small smile. She is illuminated by a halo of sunlight, catching wayward hairs in its rays. The shutter clicks, and it’s loud in the stillness of the morning.

At the confused tilt of Jamie’s head, Dani attempts to clarify. “I wanted,” she explains, sounding only a little strangled, “the first memory to be of you, and me, here. In this moment.” She sighs, “Just us.”

Jamie’s face softens as she understands. Her hand snakes around Dani’s head, and she pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, your turn,” Dani decrees, when they separate, and Jamie accepts the offered gift. “Not as exciting as a camera, but I hope you like it.”

“Poppins,” Jamie breathes, staring at the unwrapped item on the bed as if afraid to touch it, “it’s beautiful.”

Dani had found the journal at a craft fair they visited in Chicago. The man said he’d been working with leather for twenty years. The book is bound in green leather, with shimmering gold trim around its border. On the front cover, a leaf, also covered in thin gold foil, is stamped into the material. Dani had been immediately drawn to it.

“I think we had similar ideas,” Dani jokes. “I thought, since you’re always talking to yourself and coming up with new ideas, you might like a place to put everything in that brilliant brain of yours.”

“Feels like I’m saying this a lot lately,” Jamie chuckles, “but thank you, Dani. I love it.”

As if on cue, Dani’s stomach makes itself known, and she cringes.

“Right, how about breakfast?” Jamie inquires.

“I can wait,” Dani says, “The dining room closes at ten.” She glances at the clock. “We’ve got time.”

“For what?”

Jamie catches the mischievous glint in her eye. “Pretty sure I still have to atone for my grievous crime of depriving Santa of whiskey and mince pie. Unless, that is, you’ve decided to let me off the hook?” She gingerly places Jamie’s journal on the bedside table next to her camera.

“Oh, you, my dear,” Jamie all but purrs, punctuating each word with a kiss, “are still very much on the hook.”

***

Breakfast has all but ended by the time they make it downstairs.

Dani decides that cold pancakes have never tasted so good.

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years ago

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Motion Sickness Chapter 66

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I was sprinting through the woods at night. An unbearable pain in my chest. I slid to a stop and ripped my clothes off to see something massive worming its way around in my stomach. I took the edge of Crocea Mors to my body and screamed as I tried to cut it out of me.

A massive rolling Grimm masked worm flopped out of my chest from the gaping wound I'd cut in my side. It looked up at me with a pleased look.

It was killing me.

I was going to die and that would be preferable to this. This agony was too much for anyone to bear.

I woke up still on top of the building I passed out on top of. I felt like shit. My chest was crusty with blood and Neo… I felt like crying. My mistake had fucked her up. I'd need to find her and apologize.

I grimaced and pulled myself to my feet. I covered myself as best as I could then started a long painful march to Seventh Heaven. I tried not to draw much attention but I was a tall bleeding figure. I got looks. There was nothing I could do about that.

At least the mission had been a success. The White Whale was gone when I woke up. At the bottom of the harbor. And it hadn't exploded and destroyed the docks which was a nice plus.

The plan had technically been a success. But only in a technical sense.

I dragged myself into Seventh Heaven with a chiming of bells.

Jasper was there wiping down the counter.

"Cloud!"

"Jasper." I returned easily. "How was Neo?"

"She was fine within a few hours. She left. Not sure where to. But what about you? You're hurt!"

"He got a good shot off on me. It won't happen again. I need to find Neo. I need to tell her I'm sorry."

"I think she knows," Jasper countered. She pulled a medical kit from behind the bar.

"Doesn't matter. She's been all I've had. And I almost got her killed."

"I told you she was fine. She walked it off. Where have you been?"

"Sleeping it off. Taurus put a hole in me."

She started trying to pull my clothes and armor off. I jerked back away from her. I didn't even really mean to.

"Let me help you," she pleaded.

"After I find out where Neo is. She might have gone back to our hotel."

I pulled my scroll out and sent her a message.

Where are you? I'm at Seventh Heaven.

I waited a few moments and got a message back from her address.

!!!omw

I sighed. Neo was not a talker, even through text where she could have been. It was a touch annoying but I was glad she was alright.

"We told her you were fighting Taurus. I think she went looking for you," Jasper said. "We thought you died."

"Almost. I'm still kicking around though," I shot back. I kicked a barstool to prove my point. It aggravated my chest wounds. Ah, that was the stuff.

"Still think you can beat him?" She fired.

"Give me a few days to recover and definitely. I won't make the same mistakes again. I gave him an edge over me. I handed him the power he needed to win. His semblance surprised me. It won't work twice," I promised.

And it wouldn't. It had been an odd interaction of our powers but it had only happened because I'd gone for the blade beam. Any other Limit Break would have caused things to play out in my favor. Or closer to it. He wouldn't have had that devastating slice.

Jasper was unrelenting. She pulled and tugged at my clothes, she was determined to get a look at where I was cut.

"Come on. Let me take a look at you. Let's get you cleaned up."

"You got a shower here?" I asked.

She nodded and took my hand and started to guide me. I stripped out of my clothes and armor before she'd even left the room, leaving her blushing but I was too tired to care.

I hopped in the shower and the water burned against my chest wound. It wasn't a particularly deep laceration, it hadn't opened my abdomen like some other wounds I'd had before, and it was located just above the bottom of my rib cage to the right side.

I hissed under the hot water as it started to undo the blood clot and clean the wound. I bled a lot into that small shower. The water ran red for a long long time.

I popped back out and put my trousers back on. I came down to where Jasper had the medical kit.

"Think you have stuff to sew me back together in there?" I asked her. I stood shirtless in her bar. She stared for a moment before she opened it and rifled through it. She withdrew her medical line, tweezers, scissors, and a needle.

I propped myself up and wiped my chest down with alcohol wipes and then I started to sew myself back up.

That was when Neo came rushing in. She took me in for a moment.

"Neo…" I paused. She just stared at me. "Neo, I'm so sorry my explosive got you hurt. I've been running it through in my head and I have no idea when I made the mistake but it must have been somewhe-"

She walked up and tried to put her arms around me. Her arms weren't long enough to get all the way around me. I sighed into her touch. I felt the feeling of our bare skin against one another's. It was warm despite her chilling aura.

I relaxed into the touch and shuddered once against the cold of her aura. Goosebumps ran down my arms and back at her touch. Her exposed stomach and cleavage ran against my waist.

"Sorry," I breathed. "Sorry."

I had paused mid sewing myself back up. I continued once she backed away. I dabbed at the still bleeding wound with a cloth as I worked to keep my eyes free and my hands mostly clean of blood.

There was a growing pile of bloodied bandages and cloths next to me on one of the bar stools near where I leaned.

Neo and Jasper both watched me work until I put the last knot in the wire and pulled the wound tightly closed. I gasped a little in pain.

"Hopefully this reaches you that you're not invincible," Jasper said.

"I didn't need another reminder of that."

"But you're still going to fight Taurus?"

"Got to now. It's fucking on now. The gloves are off."

"You should have had them off to begin with."

"I made a mistake."

Neo took a Cosmo Canyon she ordered by pulling on my arm and splashed it against my chest. The alcohol burned and I hissed.

I glared at her. But she just leaned on one palm and smiled at me. I figured she was allowed a little of that considering what I put her through. Maybe I deserved it more than a little. I had to clean myself off of the sticky liquid again. I threw all the bandages and cloths and alcoholic wipes I'd accumulated away.

I put my huntsman clothes and armor back on. I strapped my harness and sword back to my back. In a week or so I'd be right as rain. But for now I needed to act like I was as hurt as I was.

"They confiscated and probably impounded my bike Neo. My bike, my precious, precious bike," I bemoaned.

She only laughed at me in silence. A shuffling of her shoulders and a wide open smile. She was grinning the entire time. She was happy that I was alive. She'd been worried. She tried to cover it by tormenting me but I saw through it a little. Only a little though. The rest was on to how she was a sadist.

"Thank you Jasper." I slid her back her medical kit across the counter after putting everything away in it.

I'd need to repair my huntsman clothes. They'd been torn in the fight. We could find a place that could fix or repair it, though. It would just take time. "And let me know if you see Taurus again. I've got a blood score to settle with him, now."

Might as well add his to my list of names I was constantly looking out for.

"You're really serious about fighting him again after what he did to you?"

"He got lucky," I countered.

" You got lucky," she countered back

"I did, but he got lucky first. That's how he won. In the luck race he got to the finish line first. I'll get him the next time we fight, just wait and see."

"If you say so. I think you should avoid him."

"Enough about that. What's been going down since I was out?" I asked.

"Well the unions are in action. Schnee will have to make concessions now. He's got no reserves of dust. Well, not as many and he knows that they are not safe and they're dwindling," Jasper said. She wiped some of my blood off the counter with a disinfectant wipe.

At least I knew this place was that hygienic.

"He'll need his workers back to work to keep up with local demand. He can't afford not to. He doesn't have any other customers what with the embargo and all. He's losing money fast as it is. And he has competitors. He'll have to give us something."

"Is that where Bisque and Wenge are?" I wondered.

"They're leading the charge with the strikes. Avalanche needs to be seen at the forefront of things if we want to be major players."

"Politics," I grumbled. "I'd rather be stabbed in the chest."

"You know what? You're lucky you're cute because that shit wouldn't fly with anybody else."

"Who says anything about being cute?" I asked.

"Don't be bratty," she said, leaning on the counter.

"I'm serious," I said.

"At least take it easy for the next few days," she said. "Promise me that."

"I make no promises. Anything could happen. But yeah, I probably will. Keep an eye out for Taurus for me."

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To be honest I was in quite a bit of pain. I'd taken some ibuprofen but it only seemed to bed the beast down and not so much actually able to put it to sleep. It was still rearing to clip at me. Nipping at my heels as I made my way around.

Plus they'd taken my bike so I had no wheels which meant Neo and I were walking to the seamstress where they could repair my shirt. Walking and in pain. And I had no one to complain to besides Neo who would probably just get a kick out of it my distress. Especially considering what I put her through. I deserved that.

I needed to get my hands on some real painkillers. That meant talking to Aurum and getting up to Atlas.

I took a gondola up to the floating island and got my shirt fixed up before I made my way to The Den and through its usual din. It only took an hour or two of waiting to get my shirt fixed up.

I wasn't sure how Aurum basically lived in all that noise twenty-four seven like he seemed to. I wasn't sure how he wasn't deaf.

He greeted me with a shallow wave to come over. I plopped down on the couch and let out a groan of pain as I rattled my ribcage in the process.

"I need painkillers," I told Aurum. "I'm willing to pay extra for them if you can get them to me fast."

He reached into a pocket and dumped a few pills out on his hand from a little bottle. He handed them to me.

"What's this?" I asked. I handled the round pills for a moment in my palm.

"Vicodin," he said. "I'll get you some more. This was just from my personal stash and what I had on me."

I took the pills with no water. I groaned as I did. That was that good shit. Real dosages of painkillers was what I needed.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

"I lost a fight," I confessed. "Ass end of an ass kicking and all that."

"To who?" He wondered.

"Adam fucking Taurus."

"Ah that makes sense."

"It does?" I asked.

"He's one of the few people in town that could give you a figurative bloody nose," he spoke over the noise of his music.

"Yeah well he got fucking lucky. I'll kill him next time," I said.

"Next time, hmm?" He made a questioning noise.

"Add him to my list. I want to catch him and kill him." He nodded at that and I could see him mentally do so. It was good for his business anyways.

"I heard Schnee's ship went down full of cargo. Was that you?" He asked.

"It was." I said. I sighed. Those were strong painkillers and someone brought me a whole pill bottle of them. I forked over a few hundred Lien in exchange. I could already feel them working. That was that good stuff. They were relaxing me.

Just because I'd been hurt worse on no painkillers didn't mean I relished the experience. Maybe I wanted to be able to relax and not feel like I was dying.

He laughed at me and I managed a weak glare.

I groaned and waned in and out of consciousness in the lair of drug lord who I would argue was kind of a friend. How things change. If you'd told me I would be in this position back at Beacon I would have laughed in your face.

Well maybe not. I'd had no confidence back then.

But then a lot of shit had happened to me since freshman year. I found out I was a failed experiment who only got passed around on the off chance that they succeeded.

I had the relic of knowledge still on my belt. It was secured to my person at all times. I considered asking it when the pain would fucking stop for good. It was still there. It was just muted by the Vicodin.

"Can I get you a drink?" Aurum asked.

"Should I mix alcohol and these kinds of painkillers?" I shot back.

"I always do," he said. "It's a fucking trip."

"Fuck it," I said. "Something straight and hard, if you please."

He ordered himself a screwdriver and me a few shots of vodka.

I took two of them and the room began to slouch. I was starting to feel a lot less shitty.

I sighed into the comfortable couch. Even with the music at such a high level I might just pass out. I waned in and out of consciousness in a way that was completely different to the way I'd done that on Hyper. On Hyper it had been all rush, making things a blur and making me wax and wane. On this it was all drowsiness so that I was just on the edge of falling asleep constantly.

"Fucking Taurus."

"What's that?"

"Taurus. He fucking cheated. I handed him the power to win and he nearly cut me in half. Luckily I had armor. I can't believe shit went down like that. I should have killed him. He just absorbed my attack. Must have been his semblance. Semblances are bullshit."

"I'm told you have quite the doozy of a semblance. That's just what I heard at least. You ripped into the prisoner transport like it was a tin can."

"Maybe. It's just bullshit when somebody else does, too. It's unfair. I'm going to pass out here for a bit." I leaned my head down onto the couch cushions.

I was straight off to dreamland despite the wump-wump-wump of the music in the place.

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

#adam taurus #rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #cloud strife #jaune arc #neo #neapolitan #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #lancaster #jessie rasberry #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc

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vanderlindeandco · 4 years ago

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Could you write something for Baird? You get shot in battle and almost die and he tells you how much he loves you and can't live without you. Thank you love!

It wasn’t the first time I’d been shot, but this one seemed bad. I’d popped out of cover to cross the street after the rest of my squad, and since a lot of time the grubs’ aim wasn’t so good, I thought I’d be fine if I was quick. Well, I’d gotten in a few shots as I went and taken down one of them, and I was almost into cover when I felt something like a punch to the stomach. I stumbled, unsteady, and ducked, crouching next to Marcus as I reloaded my lancer. I looked down, cursing under my breath when I saw the blood trickling through the hole in my armor. It didn’t hurt much yet, but I knew well that that didn’t say much about the severity of the wound.

“You all right?” Marcus asked, and rose, firing a few shots over the hood of the car we were sheltering behind before ducking again as return fire cracked in response.

“Not sure.” My armor had taken a beating; the recon mission we were on was a whole lot worse than we’d projected, and I wasn’t real surprised that the fairly close-range shot had pierced the battered plates. If anything, I was pissed at myself that I hadn’t recognized what poor shape the armor was in and done something about it.

“You hit?” I was surprised to hear the concern in Baird’s voice, and I looked up at him, skeptical.

“I thought I heard you joking about offing me last week after I ate your snacks?”

He scowled at me, but he didn’t talk back, and that worried me more than the hot trickles I suddenly became aware of, tracing down my stomach from the wound. “Baird, take a look at her.” Marcus’s voice was as gruff and decisive as ever, the ever-present lines etched deep into his forehead as he sighted over the hood of the car and took a few more shots.

Baird stayed low as he approached me, and I began to unbuckle my armor. It felt weird doing it out in the open like this, especially in combat. I felt naked as soon as the heavy plates fell away, but that left my mind when I saw the wound under them; it was bleeding heavily, and it had started to throb, the bloodstain on my shirt steadily growing. My head felt light suddenly and I sat back, leaning against the car. Baird’s fingers were quick and agile, catching the hem of my shirt and pulling it up, and I chuckled. “At least take me on a date first, hotshot,” I said, and the words felt heavy on my tongue.

“Shut up,” he said, but without any malice; his gaze was on the wound, and he looked up at Marcus. “It’s not good, Sarge. I don’t know what to do to stop the bleeding.” He spoke with urgency and what sounded like fear, but I felt none of it - I was well aware I was going into shock; I felt strangely disconnected from my body but it was helping keep me calm, so I didn’t particularly mind. I was growing sleepy already, and my core felt warm, but my fingers and toes were suddenly cold.

“Dom and I will keep the grubs busy,” Marcus said, and fired another short burst of shots before falling back into cover. “Fall back and get her the fuck out of here. Backup’s on the way.”

I wanted to protest, but it seemed like too much work, and when Baird slipped an arm under my knees and another around my back, I didn’t try to stop him. He rose, lifting me, and I knew we were exposed, but Marcus’s lancer chattered and I bounced in Baird’s arms, his boots stamping the pavement as he ran back toward a side street. “Ow,” I murmured; the wound was really coming to life now, the pain radiating in waves from it, and each jolt sparked it hotter.

“Fuck,” Baird muttered, and then again, louder and more fervently, “Fuck!” “What?” I looked up at him. The sky above us was bright blue, far too beautiful and calm for what was going on.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He pounded down the street, and he was breathing hard, panting out the words. He wasn’t looking at me and it was almost like he was talking to himself. “I didn’t think I’d run out of time.”

I grimaced and blinked, my eyes opening slowly. It was growing difficult to focus them now. “What for?”

“Fuck…” he expelled the word with a lungful of air. “I… Shit!” He looked down at me, his gaze moving from my face to the wound and I could see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked back over his shoulder, and then turned through the door into a dilapidated building. He eased me down, propping me against the wall, and reached for his radio. “I’m about to send my coordinates. Need med-evac here, now! Where the fuck are you guys?”

A crackly voice came through in response and I couldn’t quite make out the words, but I did hear Baird’s impassioned response: “Well, fuckin’ hurry it up!” He stowed his radio and crouched next to me, pressing his large hands over the wound, and I gasped in pain.

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered.

I was getting real tired, and my thoughts were moving slowly but I remembered there was something I needed to ask him, something pricking my mind, and then I suddenly remembered what he had been saying. “What… did you need time for?”

He looked up at me then, and suddenly his blue eyes seemed blinding, filled with a sincerity I had never seen from him. He wetted his lips and cleared his throat, and his face twisted with what I could only describe as grief. “I… Fuck it. Look.” He hesitated, and then shook his head, meeting my eyes again. “I fucking love you. I’ve known it, and I didn’t want to say it, didn’t know how or if I should, and I thought the moment would present itself if it was supposed to, but it never did and now you’re fucking bleeding out here.”

My thoughts were moving at the speed of dripping honey, and I felt like the words were just sitting on the surface of my brain, not sinking in. I was just looking at him, and he was looking back, desperation in his eyes, and I blinked, my brain feeling like it had been replaced with cement and my eyelids with lead. “Say something, please.” I blinked again and this time I couldn’t seem to get my eyes to open. “Hey!” Warm, blood-wet fingers cupped my cheek, and the last thing I heard was his voice, urgent and afraid. “Don’t fucking leave me-”

*****

When I woke, my head felt heavy, and my stomach suspiciously painless. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, and wiggled my toes, feeling soft sheets against them. I heard the sound of a steady drip nearby, and footsteps a little farther away. Then I opened my eyes, and instantly recognized the tiled white ceiling overhead - it was the med-wing of the base. Somehow, apparently, Baird had gotten me out.

Baird. His name crossing my mind jolted me. Baird, who loved me. I felt my heart rate shoot up with the thought, and my cheeks felt warm. Even though I had gotten pretty hazy near the end, I could remember his face and his words so clearly. He had meant them.

“You’re awake!” The nurse’s words broke me from my deepening train of thought. “How’re you doing?” His eyes went from the monitor next to my bed and then back to me as I responded.

“I feel fine,” I said. “I’m guessing I’m pretty dosed up?”

He smiled sympathetically. “Yeah. Gut wounds hurt a hell of a lot otherwise.”

I nodded. “So you think I’m gonna make it through?”

“Yeah,” he said. “The bullet just missed your intestines. It did some damage, and you lost a lot of blood, but you should be fine. Doc got you patched up last night.”

“Nice.” I was no stranger to the med-wing, but I was a little disappointed - this meant I had broken my streak of never staying overnight. Still, I was alive, and I was going to be all right, so I didn’t really have anything to complain about.

“Your friend wanted me to let you know when you woke up. Should I notify him?”

The sudden over-dramatic picture of a concerned and bloodied Baird getting left behind as they wheeled me into the operating room filled my head, and I nodded, asking, though I thought I already knew the answer, “What friend?”

“Corporal Santiago,” the nurse said, and my heart sank slightly.

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. It’d be good to see him.”

“All right, then,” he said. “You’re gonna be here a couple days, just so you know. This is a pretty serious wound, and we gotta make sure it heals up right. I’m Theo, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Theo,” I said. “I can’t make any promises that I won’t complain, but if I gotta stay, I’ll stay.”

“That’s all I ask,” he said with a smile. “I’ll notify Corporal Santiago.”

“Thanks.”

I had expected the fog lingering in my brain to have dissipated by the time Dom arrived, but it hadn’t, and I supposed it was most likely because the pain medicine I was on was even heavier than I’d thought. “Hey!” He greeted me with one of his signature grins, the ones that made you feel like you were his favorite person. “How’re you feeling?”

“Drugged,” I said, and he laughed. I scooted over a little, patting the edge of the bed, and he sat down. “How’d the rest of the op go?”

“Backup got there pretty fast after Baird got away with you, and we got out okay.”

“Where is Baird?” I had tried to ask nonchalantly, but apparently, I hadn’t quite succeeded - something suspicious and a little mischievous lit in Dom’s dark eyes.

“He tell you something?” he asked.

“Did he tell you he did?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I knew he was into you, though he never said anything. And it seems like you have some idea of that now.”

Dom was one of the very few people I trusted entirely, and who I knew could keep his mouth shut if I asked him to. “He said he loves me.”

At that, Dom’s brows shot up. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word come out of his mouth, except in mockery.”

“Me neither,” I said, and added, only half-joking, “When he said that, that’s when I really got scared I was gonna die.”

“He must’ve thought you were,” Dom said. “I think he’s been sitting on it awhile though.”

“Really?” I asked. “I thought I was kinda just one of the guys to him.” It was true; I was the only female on the squad, and I thought they’d gotten used to it as quickly as I had.

“Well, I’ve never seen him staring at Marcus’s ass,” Dom said with a smirk, and then added, “And did you ever notice how everyone’s equipment seems to malfunction more than yours?”

“I guess I hadn’t.” But now that I thought about it, it was true. I’d never understood why everyone bitched about Baird’s contraptions. But if it was because Baird put more work into mine - work intended to keep me safe - it made sense.

“He doesn’t show affection in the ways normal humans do,” Dom said.

“Yeah, well, he’s a pretty twisted guy,” I said, and Dom laughed, knowing I was mostly joking. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t he be here?”

“He’s probably scared to come,” Dom said. “You didn’t answer him, did you?”

“I… No.” Dom said it without judgement but I felt guilty suddenly, even though the fact that I had been dying was a damn good reason not to have answered.

“Well, you’d better,” Dom said. “He’s been on edge ever since we got back, and I thought it was just because of what happened to you. I didn’t know he was waiting on that.”

“Yeah…” I said. “That must suck. Any chance I could get you to bring him here?”

“Of course,” he said, standing. “You, uh… Need anything?”

My eyes narrowed slightly. I could tell he was hinting at something, and the infinitesimally tiny movement of his eyes toward my hair, which I realized was now probably a massive mess, gave it away. “If he loves me when I’m dying in his arms, he’ll still love me when I look like shit,” I said.

Dom chuckled. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Thanks, Dom,” I said.

“‘Course. Glad you’re okay. Everyone’ll be glad to know you’re awake.”

I’d felt pretty calm while we were talking, but as soon as the ward door closed behind him, I could feel my heart speeding up again. I’d had a crush on Baird for a long time, though I’d put it in the back of my head since I didn’t think he felt the same way, and apparently I’d done such a good job concealing it, he’d never tried to make a move even though he was into me. I didn’t need to be scared or even nervous - I knew how we both felt. Yet putting my feelings out there like that - that intimidated me more than any horde did.

The minutes ticked by, and finally I heard footsteps outside the door, more than one pair. The doors opened and Baird popped through, stumbling as if he had been pushed (he probably had been, by Dom), and regaining his balance as the doors closed behind him. He pasted a smirk onto his face, but not quick enough; I saw the vulnerability and nervousness for just a moment first. “You look like shit,” he said.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, that’s good.” His steps were just a little slow as he crossed the room toward me and stopped next to the bed. “I think you owe me some gratitude,” he said, and some of the trademark edge was returning to his voice. It made me less nervous to see him acting a little more like himself.

“I do,” I said. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it out of there if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Yeah, I think you were out before I even got you indoors,” he said, but I was sharp enough to see what he was trying to do - he was testing me, and we both knew it.

“No, I wasn’t,” I said, and fear flashed through his blue eyes before he rapidly concealed it. I swallowed. “You said you loved me.” Instantly his lips opened to protest, but he’d only gotten out half a word when I cut him off. “Shut up and let me talk for a second.” Apparently taken aback, he obeyed, his mouth still hanging open slightly. “I like you too, okay? I’m not sure I’m ready to say I love you. I need some time. But I wanna give it a shot.” I hadn’t prepared what I was going to say, but it was coming out okay, to my surprise, and by the rapid change of the emotions on his face from fear to reticence to hesitant happiness, and back to his usual confidence, I judged he thought I was doing all right too.

“You know I was exaggerating a little ‘cause I thought you were dying, right?” he said. “I mean, I don’t really, like love love you. As a friend, sure. But yeah, if you’re into me, we can try going out.”

I laughed. “If I’m into you?” I repeated. “You’re gonna convince yourself I came onto you first, aren’t you?”

“Convince myself?” he asked. “What’re you talking about? You’re the one that got me in here to tell me how in love with me you are.”

“Man, I’m the one on drugs and I’m talking more sense than you are,” I said. “Anyway, if the record books in your little Baird-centered world say I came onto you first, it’s whatever. Dom knows the true story, and we both know he’s gonna believe me over you.”

His confidence cracked for a moment, and a bit of a pout crossed his face. “You all ride me for not having feelings, and this is what I get for showing them? You might be more trouble than you’re worth.”

I smiled up at him. “We both know I’m not.”

He looked at me for a long moment, and I knew his frown was fake. “Fine,” he said finally. “Whatever.”

“Don’t whatever me, jackass,” I said, but the words held no real bite; I could feel my smile growing. “You were the one telling me how desperately you love me, you need me-” I was exaggerating; I was trying to push his buttons, and I knew I was good at it.

“For fuck’s sake, can you hush about that?” he interrupted me, casting a self-conscious glance over his shoulder, but I continued.

“-you don’t know how to live without me, your soul belongs to me-”

“Fuck it!” He stepped closer to the bed, leaned down, steadying himself with a hand on the mattress, and kissed me, and the words died in my throat as his hand cupped my cheek, just like before, but his touch was gentle rather than desperate, and his lips were soft and passionate. I was breathless when he pulled away, starstruck and giddy.

“If I knew it was this easy to get you to shut up, I would have asked you out a long time ago,” he said, but he was smiling now, and it was a real smile, and I think it was just as big as my own.

“Better late than never.” My heart was still racing, and I felt almost lightheaded again, but in a good way.

“Look, I got some work I gotta get done,” he said, and I could hear the hesitance in his voice. I’d done enough to knock his pride down a couple notches, so instead of making him say it, I asked,

“You’ll come back later?”

“Sure, if I got time,” he said coolly.

I smirked. “You’ll make time.”

“We’ll see.” I could see a grin spread across his face as he turned to leave - I think he’d tried to hide it until his back was to me, but he hadn’t quite succeeded. My head was heavy but my heart was light, and as the door closed behind him, I settled back into the pillows, pleasant sleepiness filling my mind. I hadn’t the slightest idea where things might go with him. But I was excited to see.

#damon baird #gears of war #gow #gears of war fic #sorry my baird swears so much #i just felt like it fit in this

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