#i hadn't even pressed the publish button

[sparkles-oflight]

Metulji

Synopsis: Angst BoKris Fanfic inspired by Metulji. We follow Bojan, who is trying to fall asleep, alone, missing his "beloved" more than ever.

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

Sensible topics implied: Anxiety

Author's note: I started crying when I wrote this at midnight :') It had never happened to me in a fanfic. I recommend reading it at night for extra pain.

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Laying down the half-empty bed, he gripped onto the sheets.

Alone.

He was alone in that dark blue night. The light that came out of windows was barely enough to see his own hand grip.

The smell, the voice, the silhouette of his beloved had left him. The sheets felt colder than ever. His tears had now replaced the bright smile he enjoyed so much.

He missed touching those curls, tangling his fingers as he kissed his beloved.

But the butterflies were all gone.

He wanted to reach out for a hand that wasn't there. He wanted to cry but he couldn't drown. He just wanted to rest and take one last breath.

It was exhausting. It was terrifying.

"Bojan?" A voice so familiar to him resonated in his mind. He knew it wasn't real.

- Bojan. - he opened his eyes to a bright orange environment.

Next to him, Kris was concerned. Bojan was gripping onto his sweater.

- Having a nightmare?

- Are you real? - the famously brave singer was scared, terrified about the idea of all of this being an illusion.

- Of course.

- Am I dreaming?

- Well, I'm flattered I'm a piece of your dreams. - Kris smiled.

The smile Bojan missed so much.

The light stand allowed him to see Kris' face and body as Bojan traced them with his fingers. Then, he moved his hand to his hair.

The butterflies were all over Bojan's stomach making him more excited than ever, but also anxious...

- I love you. - Bojan said.

Without a single word, Kris scooted closer holding him in an embrace.

Bojan gave in and let himself be hugged as Kris pat him on the head.

- I love you too. - Bojan felt a tear of Kris' eyes fall on his hair.

Bojan didn't want to cry. He wanted to be the strong one. He wanted to stay in that embrace forever...He wanted to stay with his beloved.

- Začutim te - "I feel you" - Vsakič, ko se spremeniš - "Every time you change".

Kris softly sang a song familiar to both of them...

-  Slišim vsakič, ko mi nekej zamolčiš - "I hear you every time you keep something from me" - Solze so nadomestile tvoj nasmeh - "The tears replaced your smile".

Kris took a deep breath before continuing and that breath helped Bojan calm down.

- Ne svetijo se ti več kodri v laseh - "There are no more luscious hair curls in you" - Ne spiva mirno, odkar metulji so odšli - "We don't sleep calming since the butterflies left".

Bojan wanted to stay strong, but that was only a want.

- Čakava tiho, da se nekej dogodi - "We are quietly waiting for something to happen" - Plavajo sanje, nosijo ure najine - "The dreams float, carrying our hours" - Naj mi jih vrne, ta ki jih ukradel je - "The one who stole them may never give them back to me".

He started crying hard, gripping onto Kris stronger than he had ever. The feeling of that familiar sweater was the only thing that helped him find his ground.

- Za roko te držim - "I'm holding your hand" - A se ne dotikava - "But we aren't touching"

Bojan felt a hand trying to grip his.

- Utapljajo se oči - "The eyes drown" - A ne jokava - "But we aren't crying"

Kris described all those contradictions...

- Za roko te držim - All those lines Bojan knew too well - A se ne dotikava.

All those lines he wrote.

- Pleševa zadnji ples - "We are dancing our last dance" - Da spet zadihava - "So that we can breath again".

Bojan finally did the thing he was terrified to do...He tried to remember the familiar smell of his beloved and when he did.

He opened his eyes.

- Prepih v temi, počiva v moji postelji - "Draught in the dark, it rests in my head" - Ko me objame se mi v glavi zavrti - "When it embraces me the world keeps spinning".

Bojan was alone in the dark blue room. Back to square one.

- Obrnem se na tvojo stran - "I turn to your side" - A komaj vidim tvoj obris - "But I can barely see your face".

But Kris' voice kept resonating in his mind as if the universe was mocking him.

-Z' mojе obleke, se zgubil je tvoj odtis - "Your traces are gone from my clothes".

- I KNOW! - Bojan yelled.

Sobbing out loud. Louder than he had ever in his life.

- I KNOW THAT YOU HELD MY HAND AND WE WEREN'T TOUCHING. - he got up and started walking around in circles, panicking - I KNOW OUR EYES DROWNED AND WE WEREN'T CRYING! I KNOW WE DANCED SO THAT WE COULD BREATHE AGAIN! I KNOW ALL OF THAT! I WROTE ALL THOSE LINES.

He started taking it all out on the pillow. He was done being mocked. He wanted to forget everything. He wanted to destroy everything. He wanted...

He wanted to re-live everything. He wanted to rebuild everything.

If there really was a God, did it want to see him suffer? Did it want Bojan to feel as if he was dying? How much suffering did it want to inflict on him?

His heart was about to explode as if he had run a whole marathon.

He tried to remember that calm breath that helped him so many times.

And as his heart calmed down...

- God... - he looked at the pillow - I loved you so fucking much. More than anyone could.

He finally let himself rest on said pillow as he collapsed from exhaustion.

"When did the butterflies leave us?"

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Afternote: A dream within a dream, yay! I love writing dreams and nightmares (Ask my scriptwriting teacher, that's what I'm best at). So...don't ask me what happened to Kris. I don't know. But something broke these two apart.

Polaroid Photos Universe | Recommended next: THE SHADE

[narcjsistx]

𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❘ reo, bachira, kaiser, rin, sae and shidou

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— reo mikage

"are you sure you want to do it? I mean, it seems a bit stupid actually" says your boyfriend in front of you, from the side not visible from the phone camera "obviously! and no, it's not stupid" you say clapping your hands excitedly, placing yourself perfectly in the center of the lens, looking towards the direction of the boy, who still seems perplexed "okay, but what should I do? I mean, come there and get you? run away with you in my arms? run and-" says the purple haired boy , but only now you notice that the '3-2-1' timer is starting on the screen "DO AS YOU THINK! IT'S STARTING" you say gesturing in his direction

it all started less than 5 minutes ago. you had gone out together and it was getting dark, so to avoid being in the dark, you had taken refuge in a corner of a well-lit park without too many people inside. sitting on the bench you started scrolling on tiktok to pass the time, and you had come across this trend, which you immediately showed to Reo, all excited. The boy hadn't exactly shared the same happiness as you, but if it meant making you happy, he wouldn't mind do it

the trend song starts, and without stopping smiling, you look in the direction of Reo, who still seems unsure of what he's actually supposed to do. at the moment in which he should appear according to the trend he takes a few steps forward, making himself partially visible to the camera "come on, don't worry!" you whisper to him, placing a hand forward

you see him nervous but in this situation he seems damn cute. he takes a few more steps forward, takes your hand and pulls you to the other side of the lens, making you partially visible and him impossible to see from the camera. he chuckles nervously and you think you see him slightly calmer in the moment he brings his face closer to yours, placing both of his hands on your hips. you giggle seeing him calmer, not rejecting his kiss when he delicately closes the distance between your lips and his. from the camera now only you could be seen kissed by someone not visible, but maybe you would have published that video on instagram stories anyway

— bachira meguru

"you have to take it slow, not like you've tried before!" you say, trying to hold back a laugh, putting yourself in the center of the camera lens again. the situation had escalated the moment you mentioned that trend to Bachira, but hey, you were really thinking of doing something calm with your boyfriend? we're talking about him, after all

"I'll be serious. and definitely calm, I promise" Meguru says, walking back behind the camera, where it isn't visible. you know very well that he is probably telling you this just to make you press "start" but how could you even remotely not laugh with his explosive character?. you sigh in amusement, pressing the button before jogging back to your seat. you settle yourself during the usual '3-2-1' and you can swear by the way he's smiling that between you and Bachira he's the one having the most fun. The song starts

even before the part where the second person would normally appear arrives, Bachira starts running towards you, and you can't help but takes a few steps back as you shake your hands in his direction, no longer able to hold back your laughter. hurricane Bachira comes at you, grabbing you by the waist as you latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Meguru runs to the other side of the camera with you practically clutched to his chest, both of you laughing like it's the funniest thing in the world. even after arriving at the desired place, Bachira continues to run, not letting you go "the trend is over!" you say, no longer hearing the music as he runs again “my stamina no!” he says laughing

— micheal kaiser

"ich denke, es ist der erste trend, den sie vorschlagen, der mir wirklich gefällt" the boy says crossing his arms, and you glare at him for a few seconds "I know you're cursing me, but it's too late. besides, you know very well that I don't understand you when you speak in German!" you say tapping your fingers against his chest, a gesture that makes him smile "trust me, I wasn't cursing you. but the sentence seemed more beautiful said in German" he says proudly

"oh, definitely. as if it didn't seem like a language made up only of insults..." you say, shrugging your shoulders. since you were with Kaiser you had more or less learned a few phrases in german, but every time you said it, or he or Ness said it, it just seemed like mean insults. Kaiser is now amused by how you label his native language 'bad', but the first few times he was really shocked by how you labeled it "come on, start the trend" he says taking a few steps back, leaving the camera in front of you. you nod, preparing yourself

Kaiser hits the "start" button, and the usual trend song starts. everything flows normally until he enters the scene, at the precise moment. he approaches you, and as you had agreed, he simply has to take your hand, leave a kiss on it and run out of the camera with you next to him. you are surprised when you see him bend over slightly, just enough to pick you up, placing his arms around your butt to get up "Mihya!" you say in surprise, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders as you are picked up. Kaiser doesn't say anything, he just spins you around while you're still holding onto him, your laughter the only thing audible between you. at the precise moment the song ends he raises his head slightly, just enough to place a small kiss on your lower lip only

"wir sollten so etwas öfter machen, wenn das dazu führt, mein liebling"

— rin itoshi

"you know I hate this stuff" Rin says while still sitting on his bed, you standing in front of him between his two legs "but you also hate it when I'm sad, right?" you ask, caressing his face, and without thinking twice he looks down. you know you have him practically tied around your finger, and above all, you love seeing him all so sulky for gestures, like caressing him or kissing him, which are now normal for you after years of relationship

"you don't even look at me anymore?" you say teasing him affectionately "okay. quick and painless" he says standing up, placing you to the side as he heads to the corner of his room, hidden by the camera on your phone that you've already set up on top of his desk. you smile happily, running to hit “start” before moving back a little further, just enough to be seen

the song starts, you pretend nothing happened as the trending girls you've seen and seen hundreds of times on tiktok usually do. at the right moment, Rin takes a few steps forward, taking your hand while, not running as the trend would say to do, he takes you a little further to the right

he stops with your hand still intertwined with his in a position still visible from the camera. you tilt your head not understanding why he stopped, but the words die in your mouth, replaced by a little squeal, when he brings your hand to his mouth to leave a kiss on the back, knight style with his princess "Riiin!" you say observing the scene, the song now over. he looks up for only a few seconds, and a light pink tinge is visible on his cheeks "I said painless, right?"

— sae itoshi

Sae hated being late, he hated the ReAl ceremonies he had to attend every month, he hated having to be with all those averagely mediocre soccers who for one evening pretended to be all great friends when in reality they insulted each other in the locker room

Sae loved seeing you dressed in red, he loved seeing you all happy for things that were actually stupid, he loved seeing you in your best dress all made up and ready for the ceremony which you also regularly attended

At the moment he was in both situations, both ready and well dressed, but late because you had suddenly found a trend on tiktok that you had saved months and months ago promising yourself that, sooner or later, you would do it with your boyfriend “Y/n, really, we have to go” the boy says, standing in the doorframe. you were at least 20 minutes late, the limousine outside the house occasionally honked, letting you know that you had to leave as soon as possible

"come on, if you keep going like this it won't take long!" you say, reapplying the lipstick on your lips, burgundy red. Sae would hardly ruin that lipstick placed on your lips so perfectly, but now he's not even in the mood to snort at you "we have to go" he says tapping his fingers on his watch, noticing that the 20 minute delay has now become 30 "I'm almost done!" you say, putting down the lipstick and putting the camera in front of you, positioning the sound of the trending song on the fly. Sae looks at you, a hint of nervousness running through him: hell, why can't you two just stay home?

"Y/n" calls you, but you signal him to stay still because you just need to play the song, and then move away just enough to let the camera see you. Sae, probably for the first time since you know him, raises his voice a little, but not screaming, just slightly louder than normal “damn, can you put that phone down and move?” he says looking at you, and just as you look up in his direction, the song starts. "sorry" you mumble embarrassed, taking a few steps back to grab your bag placed on your bed, and the boy only now seems to understand how out of character this was for him. he didn't even raise his voice when lil Rin made trouble, why he raised it at you now?

you turn again to walk towards the door, bag clutched in your hands, but two hands gently cup your face, resting on the sides of your cheeks. Sae kisses you, caressing your skin, murmuring against your lips something that remotely sounds like an apology. only then do you hear the song coming from the phone, which obviously hasn't stopped: you are perfectly in time with the timing of the trend, the kiss perfectly in time with what should happen in the millions of videos you have seen with this sound. maybe you should have bothered him more if these were the results: perfect trends and breathtaking kisses

— shidou ryusei

"come back, back... here!" your boyfriend says, while you scroll down with your finger, seeing again videos that you already saw a few seconds ago. you were sitting on Shidou's lap, you on the phone while he played his usual FIFA game on the console. by chance he had glanced at your phone, and suddenly, his attention had been caught by a video that you had saved, promising that you would show it to him once he finished the game

"turn on the sound. we'll do it now" the boy says putting the joystick to his side, and you turn around looking at him perplexed "we should get up to do it" you say tilting your head, but he grins "trust me. play the sound " he says, and you decide to do as he says, albeit a little confused by his intentions. access the camera, where your faces are shown through the reflection. you set the audio and press "start", curious to understand what he has in mind... after all we are talking about Shidou, in his head he has an order that only he understands, and that not even you dare to change or interfere with... but you loved him for this too, although it was definitely surprising

the trend song starts, you turn slightly to look at him and see him strangely prepared "what do you want to do-", you ask just before the part of the sound starts where he should come out and take you, pulling you away, but you feel one of his arms behind your back and the other ome on the bottom of your knees, just at the right time

you are picked up bridal style by your boyfriend, who starts running around the large living room of his house, holding you tightly so you don't fall. you hold the phone with difficulty with your hand, feeling shaky from running. you both burst out laughing as you hold onto his chest to stay as stable as possible. you hadn't exactly respected the rules of the trend, but you had probably created your own 100 times more beautiful and above all sweeter. typical of your boyfriend

[fanfiction4sooya]

Annoyingly you (A! Chaeryeong/ O!Lia)

This is something translated from my portuguese writing, so if anything seems grammatically incorrect, no it doesn't, mind your own business I'm sorry.

ABO, unprotected sex, little bit of fluff, smut, +18

Lia was standing outside her apartment when she started to feel hot, very hot.

The city was still, there wasn't a soul in the streets because of the national holiday. In other words, it would be four days of peace and tranquility, since everything would be quiet and she would be alone with her thoughts and her books.

Lia worked as a senior editor in a prestigious publishing house in Seoul, everything went as desired, without distractions. And obviously, to avoid these distractions she didn't want to get involved with anyone. Dating any dirty alpha was out of the question, let alone just for the sake of it.

So she'd rather take suppressants than be with anyone in her rut.

She pushed the door open with her hip, since she had a handful of groceries, quickly dropped her things on the table and ran to take the little red pill that had gotten her out of trouble a couple times. She took a deep breath, waiting for the medicine to take effect. Meanwhile she took off her clothes and headed straight to the shower, hoping that the cold water would help speed up the process of the pill.

Fifteen minutes later, nothing. Niente. Zero.

Lia was starting to get impatient, her headache was increasing, as was her temperature. Another suppressant, ice water.

Still nothing.

"I wonder if these pills are expired" She said to herself as usual, looking at the bottom of the bottle.

She thought about going to the nearest pharmacy to buy suppressants of another brand, the streets were empty.

"But if I run into any alpha jerks out there it's going to be hard to keep everything under control" She took a deep breath.

She picked up her cell phone, the screen didn't light up. She tried to turn on the screen, but the battery was practically at zero. Frustrated she ran to look for the charger, only to remember that she had forgotten it in her office. In the company that was closed because of the holiday...

Lia was on the verge of tears, as the feeling of heat and headache was increasing considerably and she was already starting to feel her private parts getting increasingly wet. She threw the cell phone down hard, trying to make her frustration go away. It didn't.

She put on a jacket over the shirt she was wearing, her vision was a little blurry. "I've never felt this way before…" She said looking at the apartment keys as she slammed the door behind her.

She managed to take a few weak steps to the elevator and pressed the button several times, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier; She fell forward, eyes closed, waiting for the impact that didn't come. She opened her eyes a little to see who had saved her, only to notice the cocky smile of the person she least wanted to see in the world. Her tall, redheaded, and totally shameless neighbor, Dr. Lee Chaeryeong.

Not that she condones libidinous acts once in a while, but practically every day? Not even the thick walls could muffle the moans coming out of the redheaded alpha's apartment.

Lia laughs her heart out when she remembers that she once slammed the door in the face of the shameless alpha when she saw her walking towards her in the hallway.

"Now that's a reception"

The redhead joked, still holding Lia in her arms. She was surprised at the blonde's lack of response and pulled away a little to look at her face, which was as pale as a sheet of paper.

Lia mustered all the strength she had and stood up, backing away from the doctor. She hadn't even noticed that Chaeryeong had pulled her away from the elevator door. She sighed.

"I need… suppressors" She said weakly, trying to get past the other one who got in front of her.

"Where do you think you're going?" She was frowning. "I can smell you from the lobby, Miss Choi. And the state you're in, you won't make it around the corner without some other alpha cornering you or passing out" She said, taking Lia by the elbow and leading her to the door of her apartment.

The taller one locked her jaw, sighing. Lia felt a sharp twinge between her legs.

"How can you guarantee me that you won't try anything with me?" Lia weakly said. "You are an alpha, after all. A really shameless one, by the way"

"And I'm also a doctor, Miss Choi," She said, taking the keys from the other's hand and opening the door, putting her inside and closing it behind them. She laid Lia down on the couch, first taking off her coat. " Your symptoms are not the ones of a normal heat. When was the last time you took suppressants?"

"Maybe thirty minutes ago, I guess. I'm a little confused"

Lia said, opening her eyes to see Chaeryeong rolling up the sleeves of the social blouse she was wearing and going to the sink, wetting a cloth.

"It didn't have any effect, right?" she said frowning, wiping the damp cloth on the other's forehead. Lia shook her head negatively. " Are you sure you took the right medication?"

"I took two suppressants, the bottle's over there on the table," she pointed to where the bottle was.

The redhead stood up, reading what was in the bottle, her red hair half fallen in front of her eyes. Lia felt a very strong tremor as the other bent down, standing at the same level as her eyes.

"When was the last time you let your cycle happen without taking suppressants?" Chaeryeong used her professional tone, but the other didn't quite understand.

"Don't even think about it, Dr. Lee" Lia sat up, taking the cloth from the doctor's hands, who laughed.

"You're very suspicious" she said, standing up and putting her hands in her pockets.

'What a huge hand…' Lia thought. 'I wonder if something else is big too?' Her gaze wandered to the other, but she quickly pulled herself together.

"From your condition, I'd say you've probably gone about four cycles without a partner. Is that right?" Chaeryeong sighed. "Your hormones are building up, which over time can cause you to have unusual symptoms and activate your cycle when it shouldn't be activated"

Lia had a pained expression on her face, making the redhead's protective side sharpen.

"And what can I do to make it better?" Lia asked.

"Well, I can give you a tranquilizer now and you'll sleep, and at best you'll feel these symptoms more lightly when you wake up. But I should warn you, this is not ideal nor is it the most recommended, in my professional opinion," She said, reaching into her purse and grabbing a pill and a glass of water for the other woman.

"Dr. Lee?" The other stopped at the door, sighing. "And what's the best option?" Lia asked softly.

"Call someone you trust and let nature take its course" The redhead looked at Lia one last time on the couch and left.

Lia thought about taking the tranquilizer, but was feeling that this would not be enough. Calling anyone was also out of the question, since she had thrown her cell phone on the floor and had no charger anyway. So she made a decision. A decision she hoped she wouldn't regret.

Slowly she walked to her neighbor's door, her heart beating rapidly, her mouth salivating in anticipation. "Damn Lee Chaeryeong" Her mind screamed. She gave the door three light knocks, squeezing her legs as tight as she could to try to gain some friction. She leaned her head against the door, resting her weight on it. That's when it was opened and for the second time in the day, Lia fell into the strong arms of the doctor.

"The third time is for good luck" the redhead laughed, but Lia could only feel the heat emanating from her body.

Chaeryeong sat Lia down on her couch, stepping away.

"I need you" Lia said practically in a groan, taking the redhead's hand and bringing it to her face. "Please, please" She begged, tears threatening to roll down her face.

Chaeryong's face contorted and she closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together. She sighed, trying to find air that didn't have Lia's addictive smell, to no avail. All she could smell was that petty omega, and all she wanted to do was bury her erection where the omega needed it most.

"I thought you were going to call someone reliable" She said calmly. She was a professional, faced that situation almost every day. She wasn't going to let herself be beaten. No matter how much her cock was aching with the way she was holding it so it wouldn't get really erect.

"I don't want someone else, I want you" Lia hissed "Just you, alpha" She said, taking the redhead's index finger to her lips and beginning a gentle sucking motion.

"I'm considering it," Chaeryeong said in a dark, almost obscene tone to Lia's ears. "I have one condition, though" She leaned forward, inhaling Lia's scent and letting the blonde submerge herself in hers.

"Whatever you want" The blonde sighed when the other stroked her hair, pulling her by the nape, speaking with her lips close to hers in a provocative manner.

"When your cycle ends, you'll spend an afternoon with me," Lia frowned a little, not understanding "So you can see that I'm not the monster you paint me to be" She said, staring at the lips of the shorter girl, who nodded in agreement.

"Whatever you-"

Chaeryeong didn't even wait for the other to finish speaking, she just pulled Lia into a slow kiss.

Not the slow kisses that show you're taking it easy, but one that practically said, "We're only taking it slow to punish you"

Lia moaned when the other bit her lower lip, pulling her up and sitting her on her lap, her legs on either side of the redhead's body. Lia was about to lose control when the redhead bit her neck, practically growling as she felt her pulse point so close to her lips, rubbing her erection against the other's soaked intimacy.

Chaeryeong pulled Lia by the back of her neck, looking into her desperate eyes. She nodded, pressing her nails into the other's shoulders as she continued to press her hips into hers.

"You want it, baby?" Lia moaned. "It's yours for the take.

Chaeryeong reclined, putting her elbow on the arm of the couch, a mischievous smile on her lips. Lia took the cue and began desperately unbuttoning the other's blouse, kissing her collarbone and exposing her six pack on the way, running her nails over her pale skin.

Seeing Lia this wild was something completely new to the other. For her, Lia was the definition of composure. So much so that she had even given up on sleeping with her after the door in her face. And here she was, on her knees begging to be fucked.

Chaeryeong smiled as she saw the blonde's frustrated face as she tried to open her pants but couldn't because she was too shaky and desperate to do so.

The redhead took her hands and put them on her chest, sitting Lia again on her lap.

"No need to get desperate, I'll take care of you"

As she spoke, she unbuttoned her pants and lowered them enough to remove her hard meat from its confinement, a relieved sigh coming from her lips to Lia's, who now looked with desire at what she wanted so badly.

They kissed again with urgency, a mixture of saliva, lips, and bites here and there. The redhead put her hand inside the other's shorts, taking her by surprise.

"So wet…" She circled the swollen clit of the other. "So desperate for me…" She inserted a finger in Lia, who didn't even wait and started a fast back and forth movement in order to satiate that desperate desire.

The wet noise and the other's moans were making the redhead impatient, crazy to penetrate the blonde, make her scream of pleasure calling her name; but for pure chivalry she restrained herself, she knew that foreplay is super important. Even though she was almost as desperate as the other.

The smell of the omega was so good, so strong that it almost made her lose consciousness when she stepped out of the elevator, imagine now that it was practically in her face. Speaking of which…

She withdrew her finger from the other, pulling her shorts and panties along with them. Pulling the omega by the waist, she laid her back on the couch, lifting her shirt to expose her breasts. She kissed her again, moving down her neck when she felt Lia's legs cross behind her.

"If you continue with the foreplay, I swear I'll kill you," She said in a threatening tone, almost growling in her ear. Chaeryeong smiled with her lips still glued to the blonde's neck.

"Your request is an order, m'lady." Lia shivered as she heard the other's husky voice. The anticipation was eating her up inside.

She reached for the other's hard member, making her widen her eyes a little and smile, biting her lower lip. Lia moved her hand up and down, spreading pre-cum all over it, making the other moan lowly.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be." Lia said kissing her mouth, running her tongue over her lip.

"So you did imagine me fucking you?" Chaeryeong teased and Lia rolled her eyes, still doing the movement. "Don't worry, I'll go slow." They kissed and Lia nodded, guiding the tip to her entrance that was throbbing and needing attention.

With one hand on Lia's waist and the other almost ripping off the arm of the couch, she penetrated slowly, always looking at the other's face.

But as big as it was, Lia was too desperate to care about that minimal discomfort, she just wanted to get fucked to forget that agony at the tip of her stomach.

Chaeryeong closed her eyes and sighed as, inch by inch, she placed her entire cock inside the other, throbbing violently. It was an electrifying mix of her and the blonde's pleasure, something she had never felt before. Lia ran her hand over her face, making her open her eyes and blink just enough to clear her mind and not lose control.

"You can move now." The omega spoke with her lips glued to hers, whispering in a heart melting tone.

Chaeryeong started with short movements, testing the waters. With each of those movements, the wet noise got louder and louder. Lia scratched the sides of the redhead's body, letting the loudest moan of the night escape when she changed the angle of her thrusts. They were like two puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly at that moment.

The redhead kissed the older woman once more, pulling her lower lip into a bite. The alpha's possessive side making her fangs come out a little, wanting to mark the woman beneath her at all costs. Lowering her lips to Lia's neck, she marked her skin with hickeys instead of her teeth, with no intention other than to show dominance.

"You'll never forget this night," she said in the other woman's ear, who only moaned in agreement. She lifted his torso, pulling one of Lia's legs over her shoulder, further improving the angle her member was at, reaching the spongy spot of Lia's soaked intimacy. "No one will ever fuck you like me." She growled, going harder and deeper, if that was possible.

They seemed to be lost in that pleasure for an eternity, lost in each other's heat and moans, too horny for anything other than that very moment.

"Don't stop!" the blonde practically shouted, her nails digging into Chaeryeong's milky thighs. The redhead smiled at the order, thinking that even at that moment the blonde could be bossy.

She felt the Lia's walls tightening, the sight of her breasts swaying with the force of each thrust and her eyes closed, biting her lips was almost enough to make her cum. Lia was close too, so the other one brought her thumb to her swollen clit circling it a few times, making her have the strongest orgasm she had in a long time, maybe in her life.

Chaeryeong didn't want to stop, her alpha side didn't want to waste her seed by throwing it all away, she wanted to leave her knot inside the other and only take it out when she was satisfied. But that was not agreed and it would not be right of her.

With her last ounce of strength, she pulled her member out of Lia, jerking her wet cock with the other's fluids, letting her hot cum fall onto her own rigid abdomen. She was trying to take a deep breath when she saw Lia making the world's biggest pout.

"You should've left it in." She gave an adorable little pout.

"Trust me." Chaeryeong lowered the other's leg from her shoulder, pulling her into a thankful kiss and removing her sweat-dripping blouse, leaving her completely naked. She wanted to take care of her omega. "You don't want any puppies around, especially from someone like me." Lia frowned, hugging the redhead's neck and hiding there, still having little a tantrum. "Do you feel better?"

"A little sore still, but less," She said softly. Chaeryeong sighed, kissing her neck. Lia's scent was even more intoxicating than before, making her cock start pumping blood again. The other felt it and bucked her hips to gain friction, almost getting excited again, but she was still weak.

"Don't even think about it" The doctor said, crossing the blonde's legs behind her and getting up. "First I'm going to give you a hot bath to relax your muscles" She said, going into the bathroom and turning on the water in the tub, Lia still hugging her koala style. "Then I'll prepare something for you to eat and we can do whatever you want afterwards."

"As many times as I want" Lia said, not bothering to lift her head from the warm spot on the alpha's neck that circled her hips with both arms. She sat both of them in the tub in her clothes and the other completely naked.

"As many times as you want," she said, kissing the spot below the blonde's ear, pouring hot water on her back. Lia smiled, finally looking at the younger woman.

"Your clothes…" she said sleepily. Chaeryeong shrugged, running a hand over her back.

"I don't care" She shook her head. "My omega first." Lia bit her lips upon hearing the redhead's somewhat possessive tone.

"You're not as bad as I thought, Dr. Lee," she said, smiling into her neck.

"Shh. Don't tell anyone, Miss Choi." Lia raised her face. "I really need to keep my reputation as a big bad wolf for all the others." She joked.

Lia rolled her eyes, pressing her nails into the redhead's white arms to show her displeasure with the teasing.

She just laughed, pulling the omega into another kiss, making it clear that the night was going to be very, very long…

[imhereforscm]

"This man"

Genre: comfort

Pairing: myself × Scorpio (self insert)

Warnings: daddy issues, family problems

A/N: Here I am with yet another self insert 😅 This one is something I wrote some months ago and due to something that happened today, I had to go back and read it again. I found this piece being really helpful for me and I wanted to publish it, because 1) it might help other people too 2) I kinda wanted to vent. (Although what happened today was far worse than what is written here, with an iconic line of my father "I don't want anything to do with her" towards me). Also, I've said this before and I'll say it again: Request anything you want! You're not triggering me at all and I'm being honest!

"Want an apple?" I asked, looking over at Scorpio laying beside me in my bed, the black covers draped across his body.

"Mhm." He hid his face in the pillow up to his nose, but the rosé adoring his ears gave him away. "Make it into one of... Those." His beautiful eyes narrowed and he casted his gaze somewhere else.

"I know." I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple, his soft hair grazing my lips and cheeks. I got up and yawned, still half asleep even though morning was far gone by now.

I walked by my desk and on top of a stack of book, my phone caught my attention. Its screen lit up and a series of letters formed a very familiar and dear nickname.

I smiled and picked up the phone, unplugging it from its charger as I did so. I dragged my thumb across the smooth screen and the visual button followed, answering the call.

I brought it to my ear and spoke, my voice still a little hoarse, since I hadn't spoken much yet. "Hi, mom." I said, my lips naturally forming a smile.

But it soon shattered and I felt as if my vision had darkened, my surroundings turning to cool, pale colours. "Hey, Vicky."

I swallowed thickly, my mouth drying at the sound of the voice that only sparked hatred in me.

"Vicky?"

"Is it about mom?" My tone was flat and monotonous, not slightly close to the sweet one from earlier.

"No, I just wanted to hear your voice."

I hanged up. With my hand holding the phone tightly, I placed it back down on the stack of books and placed my palms on the desk.

"Who was it?" Scorpio spoke from the bed.

I didn't respond. I closed my eyes and sighed through my nose. Anger, hate, sadness. All the terrible feelings tumbled out and I bit on my lip, trying to do something with my uncomfortable self.

I heard the bedsheets shuffling and then footsteps, which gradually came closer. Gentle fingers touched my shoulder and they momentarily froze.

Scorpio was not the best one in the field of comfort, but he wanted to help and I knew. His intentions were kind at heart, he just didn't know in which way to express them.

I didn't need to explain anything. He knew everything just by our faint contact earlier. He probably knew me better than my own self thanks to his power.

His hand rested on my shoulder and stayed steel for a while. He was still unsure of what to do, but I appreciated even his little awkward attempts.

The screen of my phone lit up again and this time, there was nothing under disguise. My... This man was trying to reach me, but this time he didn't use my mom's phone. He didn't try to disguise anything anymore. My heart tightened at the sight. I didn't want him. I didn't want anything from him in my life. I hated him. He abandoned me when I needed him most and treated my mother like nothing. He's arrogant and has never once admitted to a single mistake of his. Funny how he would tell I'm self centred, yet that's what he does himself. It was always easy for him to push the blame onto someone else.

Scorpio grabbed my right shoulder and pulled me, turning me around, so I would not longer face the desk. He wrapped a hand around my waist and hugged me close and I instinctively buried my face into his chest.

The feeling of his bare skin against my face was comforting and his scent enveloped me like a blanket, bringing me to tranquility and safety.

He placed a hand on my head and hesitantly, his fingertips started caressing my hair, which were a little messy.

I closed my eyes and hugged him back, allowing myself to forget about my phone. Maybe it was still showing this man's name. Maybe it wasn't. I didn't care to find out.

Scorpio's chin rested on top of my head and I heard him breathe. He hummed softly and began to rock me gently in his arms.

The vibrations of his humming and the beating of his heart joined their hands and sang in sync from within his chest and sternum.

I felt my mascles calming down and all the fearfully intense negativity from earlier had faded into a cloud of smoke, the dust of it being blown away by the wind.

Scorpio remained silent the entire time. He didn't really trust his vocal cords at this moment. They always got him in trouble and that was the last thing he desired right now. His hands went under my thighs and he picked me up with ease.

With my hands wrapped around his nape and my nose nuzzled into the base of his neck, he walked to the bed and he laid me down on it.

He got beside me and pulled me close, seemingly trying to be as gentle as possible. He tugged on the black blanket and covered us with it.

Underneath the covers we could see each other faintly by the limited light that slid in through the open end above our heads so we could breathe.

Both of our heads were laid on the same pillow and his lips were inches from mine. "I love you."

I smiled and reached out to run my fingers through his ebony hair. "I love you too." I moved my head forwards a little, our lips touching sweetly. "So much."

Between the darkness and the faint light, I could see his tiny smile spreading across his lips. "Vicky..." He spoke in a whisper, as if telling a secret just for the two of us.

"Yeah?" I breathed out the word.

He remained silent for a while, before finally speaking. "Nothing." Air left his nose, making a sound and his smile grew broader, his cheeks pushing at his eyes. "I just like the way your name feels when I say it."

[evbell]

Evannah Potter: King's Cross Station

My first ever published (mini) chapter (1,843 words)!! This takes place after the true beginning of this story, but is the only chapter I wrote that I am halfway satisfied with. That being said, there are a few things that need to be clarified: Evannah was raised away from Harry for reasons that will be explored in another post. Like many muggle-born students, Evannah received a visit from Professors Burbage and Dumbledore to explain magic to her (in her case with a long-lost brother bonus) and is making her way alone to King's Cross. The characters Phoebe and Nancy are originals and orphanage friends.

...

For the first time since she was seven years old, Evannah Potter wasn't sure where she was going when she left the orphanage that morning.

London was engraved in her brain, obvious in her accent. Orphan City stuck to her like a tattoo- literally- and the London Underground system might as well be her playground, and this was all without counting the buses. So, standing between platforms 9 and 10 at King's Cross, trying to work up the courage to pass a wall, which would (supposedly) take her to a magic school, where her long-lost brother(?) would go to in two years, the girl had never felt more ridiculous or clueless. Evannah was early and exhausted from walking all the way from Soho to King's Cross with a trunk the size of a crib- which she still did not understand, these people had magic, magic, and insisted on carrying luggage around, of all things- not to mention the whining cat she brought with her in a cage on her other hand- oh yes, try opening a door like that. Or stairs. If the tattoo on her finger wasn't already enough of a people repellent, then that vision ought to do it. 

"You're lucky you're cute, Atticus," she whispered down to the grey ball of fur meowing away in a box by her feet. The cat looked at her indignantly, and meowed louder. 

Evannah crouched down in front of the box. "I'm sorry, alright? But what else should I do? Put you on a leash?"

Atticus did not look any less offended.

"What, you think I should've let you free? Atticus, you're scared of balloons, I can't expect you to follow me all the way here."

The following meow sounded like it meant that she very well could and should have, so she reached into the cage slowly, waiting for the cat to press up against her fingers. He did, after a moment, purring softly at her silent apology, until something caught his ear.

The next second, Evannah found herself sprawled over King's Cross' filthy floor, loud, startled cat protests echoing at her side and two red-ish blurs in front of her.

"Oh, by Merlin, are you okay? So sorry about this-" said one of the blurs at the same time the other said, "Ah, fuck, sorry, sorry. We didn't see you."

"FRED! GEORGE!" screamed a woman from far away. Distantly, Evannah thought she sounded like she was carrying multiple bags at once. Like those mothers with three or so small children that go around the supermarket playing with the cart, you know? The mothers that always have those gigantic durable supermarket bags on them.

"Nasty fall, that was, do you think you can stand?" asked someone gently, but casually. Not the blurs. An older voice. Someone that sounded like they wore leather.

"Again, so sorry about that-" said a blur.

"-we really are," added the other guiltily.

Did she fall? That couldn't be, Evannah Potter hadn't fallen since 1986. She had ridiculously good reflexes. Once she even caught a button that flew out of Phoebe's shirt.

One of the blurs made a sound of realisation.The one on the right? "Oh, you need your glasses, don't you? Ginny, can you get the glasses?"

A flash of movement to her left, the soft brush of metal against her hand. "Here."

Christ, she should really say something, shouldn’t she?

"Er, thanks," Evannah finally managed and put the glasses on.

Oh, the red-ish blurs were twins. Gingers. A whole family of fiery-red hair and freckled faces, it seemed. 

The twins still hovered over her, brown eyes checking her for injuries. The older voice, the one that wore leather, was indeed much older and did, in fact, wear a leather jacket. Spot on, she thought distantly. The one who had handed Evannah the glasses, on the other hand, was a girl about Nancy’s age, maybe a bit older, definitely more outgoing. 

“You’re welcome,” replied the girl politely.

“BILL, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH THEM-” came the yelling again. Evannah could see the woman now, a short, less fiery ginger, mother with a kind demeanor but furious glint in her warm brown eyes- who was not carrying gigantic supermarket bags, although she must have at some point, with so many children. 

“Oh, my! Dear, are you all right?” questioned the woman once she saw her.

Honestly, Evannah was still rather confused about how she ended up on a filthy train station floor, and the angry cat next to her wasn’t helping, so her eloquent response was: “I think so, ma’am.”

“What even happened?” asked a new voice. A boy with gelled-back hair behind the woman.

The older one with the leather jacket straightened up. Bill, from what Evannah gathered. “They were running around with their trunks- I know, mum, alright? I’m sorry- and crashed into her.”

“Really sorry about that,” said the twin on the right.

“We were trying to see who’s fastest,” added the other.

Understandable.

Irresponsible, but understandable.

Evannah made to stand, an attempt to help the twins out with their mother. “It’s okay, I think. Really, I’m all right.”

They helped her stand- the twins, that is- and she thought the family’s worry was rather sweet, if a bit exaggerated. Her trunk had probably had more damage done to it than Evannah herself.

“Sorry, kitty. We didn’t mean to scare you,” said a twin to Atticus as he flipped his cage back to the correct position. The cat hissed his opinion on the matter, but sniffed the boy’s hand nonetheless.

“Sorry, trunk,” copied the other twin as he took her luggage from the floor, and Evannah had to laugh. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Fred,” reprimanded the mother.

“But, mum, I’m only being polite,” protested Fred, offended.

The other twin, giving up his luck with Atticus, who had stopped sniffing and was glaring at him, took the cage from the floor and handed it to Evannah. “Here’s your cat. Sorry again.”

“Yeah, sorry,” repeated Fred, more genuinely than when he apologized to the trunk.

“It’s fine, really. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

The twin that was not Fred nodded, “We really didn’t, we were trying to get to the Hogwar- to our train on time.”

“Oh, you’re going there too, aren’t you?” asked the girl. Gina?

“...where?”

“Hogwarts, of couse,” announced a completely new voice, and Evannah was faced with two other red-headed boys- wow, that’s a lot of children- and a tall man that must’ve been their father. “We saw the fall on the way here, hope you’re all right,” continued the voice. The second oldest of the children, a boy with the three top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Oh… yeah.” 

It must be real then. Okay.

“Us too.”

“First year?” asked the father.

“Er, yeah”

The twins straightened up. “Same as us, then.”

“Oh,” nice? Okay? Good to know? What do you say to people who knocked you over and were really nice about it? “-cool.”

“All right, we should start going to the platform, in any case,” spoke the father, ending the discussion, “Would you like to go first…?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Evannah. I’ve never… been before.” the girl gestured to the wall.

“Nervous, are you?” said Bill . “You won’t hit the wall, don’t worry. Did it for seven years, only ever hit my head on the train window.”

“Charlie, go on first, then, show her,” commanded the woman to the son with the unbuttoned top buttons. 

Charlie grabbed his trunk and rushed to the door, looking back at her reassuringly, and just as she thought he would collide face first with the wall, the tall boy disappeared behind the red bricks. The boy with gelled-back hair- Percy, apparently- went next, seeming very proud of himself for being a demonstrator. Soon enough the twins were through as well- the other one’s name was George- leaving Evannah to go next. 

The mother smiled encouragingly at Evannah “Now, off you go, dear. We’ll be right behind you. You’ll be all right.”

“Unless you're waiting for your parents…” offered the father, suddenly realising that the girl was alone.

“Oh, no, no. I’m on my own,” responded Evannah immediately, vaguely. “Right, guess I’ll go, then.”

She shot the family one last look before holding on tightly to her cart and running towards the bricks. Halfway through, Evannah was already regretting her decision. Was she about to be knocked over a second time in the same day? She was ready so splash her head against the wall, Atticus hissing his protests behind her, and then…

The twin that was not Fred nodded, “We really didn’t, we were trying to get to the Hogwar- to our train on time.”

“Oh, you’re going there too, aren’t you?” asked the girl. Gina?

“...where?”

“Hogwarts, of couse,” announced a completely new voice, and Evannah was faced with two other red-headed boys- wow, that’s a lot of children- and a tall man that must’ve been their father. “We saw the fall on the way here, hope you’re all right,” continued the voice. The second oldest of the children, a boy with the three top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Oh… yeah.” 

It must be real then. Okay.

“Us too.”

“First year?” asked the father.

“Er, yeah”

The twins straightened up. “Same as us, then.”

“Oh,” nice? Okay? Good to know? What do you say to people who knocked you over and were really nice about it? “-cool.”

“All right, we should start going to the platform, in any case,” spoke the father, ending the discussion, “Would you like to go first…?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Evannah. I’ve never… been before.” the girl gestured to the wall.

“Nervous, are you?” said Bill . “You won’t hit the wall, don’t worry. Did it for seven years, only ever hit my head on the train window.”

“Charlie, go on first, then, show her,” commanded the woman to the son with the unbuttoned top buttons. 

Charlie grabbed his trunk and rushed to the door, looking back at her reassuringly, and just as she thought he would collide face first with the wall, the tall boy disappeared behind the red bricks. The boy with gelled-back hair- Percy, apparently- went next, seeming very proud of himself for being a demonstrator. Soon enough the twins were through as well- the other one’s name was George- leaving Evannah to go next. 

The mother smiled encouragingly at Evannah “Now, off you go, dear. We’ll be right behind you. You’ll be all right.”

“Unless you're waiting for your parents…” offered the father, suddenly realising that the girl was alone.

“Oh, no, no. I’m on my own,” responded Evannah immediately, vaguely. “Right, guess I’ll go, then.”

She shot the family one last look before holding on tightly to her cart and running towards the bricks. Halfway through, Evannah was already regretting her decision. Was she about to be knocked over a second time in the same day? She was ready so splash her head against the wall- shielding Atticus, of course- and then…

...

[fandomsaligninstories]

The Stonewall and His Weakness

Prompt: No prompt! This is the first chapter from my Aaron Hotchner story. It’s published on my Wattpad, but if it gets some popularity here, I might consider posting it here... Song Recommendation: Spotify Playlist TW: None  Word Count: 1332 Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Alexandria Grey (an OC)

Alex’s POV:

I rushed into the building, swiping my ID as I passed through the front doors. I dropped my lanyard as my fingers curled back around my coffee, the sweat from the plastic cup making my hand slippery. My other hand held the strap of my backpack so it didn't slip off my shoulder. I sighed heavily, still trying to catch my breath from having to speed walk from the parking lot. I hate mornings, why does this time even exist, why would anyone want to be awake-

My thoughts were interrupted as I tripped over my own feet and stumbled forward. I muttered a few swears, expecting to drop my coffee and fall flat on my face, but I didn't. I looked down to see a hand wrapped around mine, holding my coffee evenly, and another on my hip, keeping me upright. I stood up quickly, staring at the man in front of me.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his dark eyes staring into mine, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, yeah, thank you. God, I hate mornings, who in their right mind would willingly be up this early?" He chuckles, walking with me to the elevator.

"Well, me, for one."

"Then you must not be in your right mind. I mean, the sun is barely up! I could be in my warm bed right now." We stepped into the elevator, pressing the buttons we needed.

"So why aren't you?"

"Paperwork. I blew it off last night, so now I have to come in early to finish it up." He nodded understandingly. His brown eyes focused on me, a faint glimmer in them as he smirked, "What? I didn't get coffee on myself, did I?" I looked down at my white shirt, not seeing any coffee stains.

"No, you're fine. I just haven't seen you around before." The elevator stopped at the fifth floor and he stepped out, "Have a good day."

I mumbled a 'you too' before the doors closed again, curiosity getting the best of me. Once I arrived on my floor, I was met with the stares from one of my agents, Jordan.

"Good morning, Alex."

"No, no it's not, Jordan. I just tripped over some guy in the lobby and had to endure an elevator ride with him."

"Ohh," she whistled, "who was it?"

"I have no idea. He got off on the floor below us, though."

Her eyes light up, "was he really tall, with short brown hair and a really nice suit?"

"That's creepy, yeah, you know him?"

"That was Aaron Hotchner!"

"Hotchner, as in the team leader of the BAU? The Hotchner you worked for awhile back?"

"The very one."

"Huh..." I was shocked and in awe. The BAU was a legend in the FBI. I hadn't had the chance to meet or work with them before, but I had heard stories. She looked at me and laughed, returning to her paperwork. I walked back to my office and sat down, ready to tackle the mountain of paperwork I had left.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Over the next few months, I began arriving to the office earlier than usual. I used to get in around nine, but slowly I caught myself arriving at seven. I also realized that a certain agent was waiting for me almost every morning, his only absence being when his team was away on a case.

The first month we rode in an awkward silence. The second month was a comfortable silence, the sense of comfort starting my day off nicely. The third month is when he finally struck up a conversation, which continued on the next day, and the next, and so on. In the fourth month, I caught onto him. He hadn't caught on to any of the subtle hints I had dropped, but I had caught onto his. Finally, I decided to step up and ask the question.

It was a thursday, and his team had just got called in on a case. It was one of the rare times that it happened to line up with our usual elevator ride. As he stepped off the elevator, my hand flew up to hold the doors open. He looked at me quizzically.

"Tell me something, Hotchner. Are you ever going to ask me out, or are you just a tease?" He stiffened as his ears and face turned pink, eyes widening in surprise, "For one of the best profilers in the country, you sure are bad at profiling when someone is interested in you." I winked, dropping my hand so the doors would close.

It wasn't for another two weeks that he returned. I had been working later than usual, having to finish up reports for the case my team just closed. It wasn't often we got to close them with minimal losses, so this was a win in my book.

I was packed up and on the elevator a few minutes past eleven. I leaned against the back wall, my body heavy with exhaustion. I peeled my eyes open as the elevator stopped moments later, a disheveled Hotchner stepping in. I stood up as he leaned against the wall beside me. His tie was loosened, shirt untucked, pants and jacket wrinkled, and hair ruffled.

"Hey." I spoke softly, as to not startle him. He looked up slowly, eyes bloodshot, "bad case?" He nodded, sighing. I placed a hand on his arm, rubbing my thumb in gentle circles. "You look like you could use a drink."

"I can't," he spoke quietly, his voice sounding raw.

"Okay, another time." We rode the rest of the way in silence. He stopped outside the elevator, calling my name as I stopped in front of the glass doors.

"Hey, um... I changed my mind. Still want to go for that drink?" His hand ran through his messy hair.

I nodded, waiting for him to catch up to me, "Of course. I'll meet you at the bar on second."

"The one by the pizza place?"

"Yep, that one."

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ We sat and talked for hours. He told me about his case, then we talked about our lives. The things that didn't come up in our early morning elevator rides. I learned that he used to be married, but a serial killer killed her and nearly killed his son, Jack. His son had just turned seven a few weeks ago. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about his son wasn't something I had seen before. Everyone around the office referred to him as the man who never smiled, so I felt privileged to see him smile.

We sipped on our drinks, not wanting to drink too much since we had to drive ourselves home. Around two AM we decided to call it a night. He walked me to my car, making sure I got in before he walked to his own vehicle. As I got closer to my apartment building, I laughed, realizing that I just just followed him the whole way back.

As I parked my car and walked to the front of the building, I saw him standing by the door with his arms crossed. "Why did you follow me home?"

"I didn't. I'm surprised you didn't try to lose me, though."

"I considered it." He uncrossed his arms, opening the door and following me in. He pressed the button to the third floor, staring at me as I leaned against the wall. His eyebrows furrowed, something he did often. I walked out first, stopping at the second apartment.

"Wait a minute. You're 302?"

"Guilty." I smirked, watching as the gears turned in his mind.

"You're the one that always plays music in the middle of the night."

"You can hear that? Sorry, I try to keep it down, but-"

"No, no, I find it relaxing. It grounds me after a bad case." He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"I'll keep that in mind." I unlock my door and it swings open, "Goodnight, Aaron."

He smiles, eyes bright, "Goodnight, Alex."

[donutloverxo]

Anniversary

This is written for my dear friend @just-one-ordinary-fangirl's 1000 followers challenge. Congrats on such a huge milestone! I used the prompt "Oh, honey, what on Earth were you thinking"

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - You try to cook for your future husband and fail miserably. But there are other ways you can make it up to him 👀

Warnings - 18+ only please. Explicit sexual content, daddy kink, deep throat.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 1.4k

You huffed out a breath, some flour that was stuck on your upper lip along with it, pushing the strand on your forehead behind your ear with the back of your hand, although you were pretty sure they were already completely covered in flour and what not.

You sniffled as you looked at the state of your kitchen, fighting back tears because you literally had one job and you couldn’t even get that right.

“I’m so useless...” you mumbled.

Usually Andy was the one to do the cooking and you’d just ‘help' by hugging him from behind--because it was really nice to feel his hard back and butt pressed up against you--or by snacking on whatever he was cooking or tasting his food and giving him pointers. Either that or you both would just order in.

But now you were engaged.

You had a brand new solitaire on your hand and you had to work on being a good wife. How had to gone almost thirty years without knowing how to do something so basic and essential?

Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a meal as tough as a chicken pot pie but that was Andy’s favorite and you wanted to do something special for your anniversary. Pasta or spaghetti doesn’t exactly scream effort or I love you. It’s not like you’d be very good at that either. You didn’t even know how to properly boil an egg.

Because you were too busy wallowing in your self pity, you didn’t even hear Andy come in and yell out his customary “Honey, I’m home.”

You snapped your head up at him when you heard him call out your name. Placing his bag on your marble counter he examined the mess you had made and then you.

“Oh, honey, what on earth were you thinking?” he cooed. Not angry in the slightest but rather sympathetic. Especially when he saw how watery your eyes were and how dejected you looked.

He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm after placing a tender kiss to your forehead. He never let you even touch the stove and for a very good reason. “Why is my princess so upset?” he asked. Although he had an idea why.

He pulled away, taking your hands in his to check for any injuries and make sure that you were okay.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” you mumbled, playing with a button on his shirt, “But it all went wrong and so fast. Even though I followed the darn instructions!” you whined, resisting the urge to stomp your feet.

He sighed, pecking your lips, “You take such good care of me, sweetheart.”

“No, I don’t,” you puffed your cheeks like a little chipmunk, “I’ve never cooked for you and I don’t know how to make you feel special.”

“You make me feel special and loved just by being with me,” he smiled, kissing your knuckles. “Now, how about you and me go out for dinner? Would that be an okay way to spend our anniversary?”

“Um, did you get me anything?” you asked. If he hadn’t that maybe you wouldn’t feel terribly guilty about ruining your gift to him.

“I sure did, honey. I would never forget,” he said with a stupidly handsome grin, so proud of himself. You would usually throw a fit if he hadn't but right now he was being annoying.

“Andy,” you frowned. “I put all my eggs in one basket. I didn’t get you anything! I’m such a bad girlfriend.”

“Fiancé,” he corrected. He didn’t like it when you forgot even if it was just a mistake. “This,” he said, tracing the ring on your finger, “means that you belong to me, Mrs Barber. And don’t you forget it.”

You gulped at the dominance in his voice, “Yes daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praised, cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch. “You being mine is more than enough for me. But if you really want to make it up to me.... you know what to do,” he hummed, pushing his thumb inside your mouth.

“What?” you blinked, feigning innocence and pretending that you didn’t notice his hard length pressing into your hip.

“You can try to take my dick down your throat,” he told you, now pushing two of his fingers in your mouth to prep you.

“I’ll try,” you said but it came out a bit incoherent since your mouth was full.

It also earned you a slap to your ass, making you jump and yelp around his fingers. “You’ll have to do better than that sweetheart. You’re getting spoiled. Maybe I’ll return the present I got for you.”

“No no,” you frantically shook your head, “I’ll do it, daddy, promise,” you swore, holding out your pinky.

He was nice enough to bring you to the living room and giving you a pillow to kneel on while he sat back against the couch.

“It’s not gonna suck itself, sweetheart,” he said as you mumbled out an apology and started working in unbuckling his belt and unzipping him with shaky hands.

You had let him use your mouth plenty of times, but he was just so big. Bigger than any man you had ever been with. You could barely get half his length in your mouth. And while he encouraged you to take as much of him as you could he was understanding when you couldn’t. And mostly desperate to get his own mouth on you.

You licked your lips when you pulled out his pulsating manhood, “So big,” you wondered out loud, scared of what it’ll do to your poor throat.

“It’s okay, honey. You can take it in your pussy, so you can take it in your mouth too if you try hard enough.” His patience running thin as he pushed you towards it.

You could barely take it in your pussy. Andy would literally have to prepare you and use lube. As good as it was, it left you with a delicious ache and sometimes wobbly for days.

You sucked on his tip, moaning at the sweet and salty taste of pre ejaculate leaking out as your hands fondled his balls.

“It’s yummy,” you looking up at him, licking your lips of the cummies smeared on them.

“If you make daddy happy you’ll get even more of it,” he promised, pushing your head down his length, “Open wide,” he instructed.

And you followed like the good girl that you were, taking as much of him as you could till he hit the back of your throat, making you gag and cough around him when he tried to push you even further.

He traced a thumb over the imprint of his dick on your throat, “Try to relax your throat a bit, sweetheart. Can you do that for daddy?” He asked, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

You nodded as he pushed you even further down, and despite your coughing and sputtering you took all of him till your nose touched the soft curls at the base of his cock.

You swallowed around him, moaning which he pinched your nipple through your shirt.

“I love it when you do that,” he groaned. Almost coming then and there when you swallowed around him. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said as he held onto the back of your head. Lifting his hips off the couch he slowly fucked up into your warm mouth, his balls tightening when he saw you drooling around him.

You made sure to swallow every last bit of daddy’s cum, heaving and taking in some much needed oxygen when he finally let you go.

“Show me, honey,” he ordered. You opened your mouth to show him that you swallowed all of it.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Where’s my gift?” you asked eagerly.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, pinching your nose.

He showed you the box of designer heels he had got for you. You had been asking him for them for weeks and he was hesitant because they were so expensive and you had more than enough shoes.

You squealed loud enough for the whole block to hear, hugging him tightly and smiling so fondly at him when he put them on your feet. As if you were Cinderella.

“You like ‘em?” he looked up at you.

“I love them. Thank you, daddy.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

The Bogart Diaries #23: Trouble (Part One)

Masterlists: [All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer]  [The Bogart Diaries]

Characters: Thomas Hunt, Alex, Bogart Hunt (dog) Book: Red Carpet Diaries [Hunt x F!OC] Word Count:  ~500 Rating: General/all the fluff Prompt: costume ~ @choicesoctoberchallenge

Synopsis: An ad on Instagram gives Alex an idea.

"Aww," Alex cooed. Her eyes widened at the sponsored post that appeared on her screen as she scrolled through her feed. "Look!"

Thomas glanced up momentarily to the device extended in front of him. He studied the advertisement and then returned his attention to the book he was attempting to read.

"Nothing? Really?!" Alex pouted, still holding her phone toward him, shaking it as she tried to regain his attention. "You have nothing to say?"

"Do I need to?" He offered simply, his focus still on the text in his hands.

Alex's gaze shifted to the black lab lying on the dog bed beside the couch. "What do you think, Bogart? Matching Halloween costumes for the three of us?"

The dog's ears perked up at her cheerful tone. He barked once at the attention, his tail beating quietly on the carpeted floor.

"I guess it's settled then." Her finger hovered over the shop now button, though her focus was on Thomas.

He exhaled through his nose, his eyes closing, knowing she was waiting for his response. "No."

"No?" She questioned as if she hadn't understood.

"Yes."

"Yes?!!!"

"No!"

"So is that no meaning no? or no meaning yes?"

"Alex!" He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Oh, come on," she shifted closer, resting against his arm as she scrolled through the website. "There are so many cute matching costumes. It doesn't have to be that specific one. At least take a look at the other choices!"

Setting his book to the side, he turned into her. He cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I love you, but we've discussed this. There are limits, even for you and Bogart."

She chewed her lip as she turned into his hand, hiding her growing smile. "That doesn't sound right... Are you sure I can't convince you?" Her breath was warm on his neck as she kissed the corner of his jaw just below his ear.

"I shall leave the matching of costumes to you and Bogart," he insisted, unmoved by her pleas. "I am quite content with my choice of attire and usual state of dress."

Alex's eyes widened, her lips turned down as she batted her eyelashes purposefully. She opened her mouth to protest but instead found his last words replaying in her head. The pout quickly turned to a simpering smirk as a new idea filled her thoughts. Her tone changed readily, "okay. I understand." She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and popped up off the couch, flitting out of the room, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

His gaze narrowed as he watched his wife retreat; he had expected more resistance to his refusal. This was too easy. His brow quirked up curiously, and his gaze shifted to Bogart, "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Bogart tilted his head in consideration. His tongue fell forward as he panted happily. The corner of his mouth pulled up as if even he knew there was more to be had.

This wasn't over, not by a long shot. Whatever she had decided, Thomas knew there was no stopping it. Now that Alex had the idea, all he could do was wait to see what was in store for them.

[Part Two]

A/N: Hopefully part two will follow tomorrow. 🤞 (will update with a link here when it's published)

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. I appreciate it if you made it this far. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Tags in a reblog, please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the list.

A/N 2: I saw the ad in the title banner and got the idea for this drabble which helped me finally settle on part two... part two has been in WIP for months! I needed the perfect set up and this drabble is it!

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 6

Chapter: 6/8

Additional Notes: Fic published in full on my AO3, WizardGlick. This is my favorite chapter 😁

Chapter Content Warnings: Blood, respiratory distress

The record player was still in the kitchen, surrounded by puzzle pieces. Patton switched it on and watched the vinyl spin in a daze. He missed Roman's boastful chatter, missed Logan's even keel. Maybe he should just give up. They clearly didn't want him around, and at a certain point, maybe it was selfish to keep badgering them.

God, he was a mess. Virgil had been too tactful to say anything during last night's Ghost Adventures marathon, but he had kicked his feet up in Patton's lap, and that was telling. It wasn't the reassuring full-body contact he longed for, but Virgil had never been big on touch. He couldn't be what Patton needed, and that was fair. It wasn't Virgil's job to take care of Patton. It was no one's job.

Janus' voice sounded unbidden in his head, reminding him in a distinctly annoyed tone, ' It's your job.'

So Patton picked himself up off the kitchen island and opened the fridge. He liked the work of cooking and cleaning. The domesticity was reassuring and sweet and safe. He cooked and cleaned because he loved. He loved Logan, he loved Roman, he loved Virgil. He wanted to see them safe and fed and contented, free to fulfill their functions because Patton fulfilled his.

As he cracked eggs into a bowl, he wondered if he loved Janus. He probably did. How could he help it?

Janus' smile was a rare thing, and that much sweeter for it. And he was so clever, so self-assured, so determined to help. This whole time, that was what was driving him. He wanted to help Thomas the only way he could, and now he was helping Patton. Because… Because he was just good. Even if he, like Virgil before him, kept that light hidden behind walls of sarcasm and bitterness. Janus was good. And Patton loved him.

He had forgotten to turn on the stove. Patton smiled at himself, because what else could he do, and turned on the stove. As he stood there, anxiously eyeing his half-finished omelette, his fingers found their way to the friendship bracelets around his right wrist. He had two there, Logan's and Roman's. They were both made of soft embroidery floss. Roman's had a little charm, a small silver 'R' that sometimes caught the light and made Patton smile when he noticed it.

He and Janus should have friendship bracelets. It could go on his left wrist next to Virgil's. Virgil wouldn't be happy about it, but… But Patton wanted it. He wanted Janus to feel accepted and loved. And there was no way to do that and spare Virgil's feelings. There was just no winning and Patton wanted, wanted, wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything.. Would it really be so bad to indulge this?

After breakfast, Patton relocated to the living room and asked the mindscape's halls for Janus. Janus did not appear, but the fog of the subconscious at the edges of the walls solidified into a hallway. Patton got to his feet and started to walk. He had never really ventured into the space that Roman referred to as 'the Dark Side,' but there was really nothing foreboding about it. The halls were still well-lit, the carpet still plush beneath his feet.

Eventually, the hall opened up to a cozy little alcove. Janus was huddled up against the wall, staring into the depths of a pure black coffee mug. He flinched when he noticed Patton, then smiled.

It was a slow, unfurling thing: first sheepish, then courteous, and finally, genuine. It lit a fire in Patton's chest, made him feel like he was glowing.

"Patton." Janus tipped his hat, peering out coquettishly from under its brim.

"Sorry," said Patton, "am I interrupting?"

"Oh, yes," said Janus, getting to his feet, "I need to have my coffee in utter silence of the caffeine doesn't take."

He sounded a little hoarse. Patton felt himself cross his arms and draw back to examine Janus, but couldn't stop it from happening. His scales looked the same as ever, more yellow than green under the light, but both eyes were glassy in a way that indicated lack of sleep. He looked tired, Patton decided, but not sick.

"Did I button my shirt wrong?" Janus asked, not actually looking down to check. He kept his eyes on Patton.

"Is there something on your mind?" Patton asked.

Janus countered this question with another question, which Patton supposed was fair: "Did you come down here just for that?"

"Well, actually…" Patton tugged at the tight, precise braid of Logan's friendship bracelet. Why was this so hard? "I thought we could-- If you wanted to--" His nerves were taking over and he was helpless to stop them, couldn't control the way his voice trembled. He started over. "So, no pressure, obviously, but I just thought it might be nice if we, you know, made friendship bracelets together." Patton held up his forearms so Janus could see. "If you want."

Tears were forming in Janus' human eye; his chest hitched with uneven breaths. Patton was already raising his arms to offer a hug when Janus turned away and started to cough. Oh.

The fit, though it sounded terrible, ended quickly. Janus straightened, drawing a yellow handkerchief back into his sleeve like a magician. "What," he said, pretending to look at his fingernails, "are the odds of you believing that was nothing?"

"It didn't sound like nothing," Patton said.

Janus sighed and leaned back against the wall, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "Look, I didn't want to say anything, but I think that our dear benevolent prince might be a little angrier than he let on."

"You think Roman's doing this to you?" That didn't sound like him. He could be stubborn, sure, maybe even bull-headed, but it really wasn't like him to make someone sick. At least, not on purpose.

"It's not Remus," Janus said, crossing his arms. "There's nothing else wrong with me."

"It's just a cough?"

"Just a cough."

Patton tapped his fingers against his leg, thinking. "Roman's not really talking to me at the moment--"

"Typical," Janus muttered.

Not wanting to fight, Patton let this go. "But I'll see if I can… Well, I'll see what I can do."

Janus nodded, then seemed to remember something. His jaw worked for a second, his eyes darting everywhere except Patton's face. "Thank you."

Patton nodded, still inexplicably afraid. Now was his chance to leave, since Janus hadn't acknowledged his offer. If he sank out fast enough-- But what exactly was he running from? He wasn't Logic, but he couldn't deny that it made no sense to run from something he couldn't even identify. "So, um. Did you want to…?"

"Where?" Janus asked.

The trapdoor to the speakeasy opened beneath their feet. Patton's door appeared down the hall. He and Janus looked at each other in silence.

"The lighting might be a little better in my room," Patton said finally. He wasn't sure which of them had caused his door to appear. The subconscious was tricky like that sometimes.

"By all means," Janus said.

It was a little nerve-wracking to have Janus in his room. Patton wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the idea that Janus might not like it, and by extension, not like him. After all, Patton's room was as much an extension of himself and his function as his body was.

Janus stepped quietly over the threshold, holding himself still except for his eyes, which darted from object to object.

"Let me know if you start feeling all sentimental," Patton said, a thrill of nerves tingling his spine. "I don't have a lot of practice controlling my room." Janus probably didn't want to cry today, or ever. Not that he seemed like the type to get caught up in nostalgia. Like Logan, he was ruthless, cutting away what didn't serve him with the precision of a surgeon. Or so it seemed.

Janus nodded. Patton frowned. He'd been awfully quiet since Patron had extended the invitation. He almost seemed scared, which didn't make sense. They were safe in here. Too safe, if Patton let them be, sequestered in this hall of nostalgia's anesthetic haze.

"Are those California poppies?" Janus asked, striding forward to a dresser (the design of which had come from a memory of sleepovers at Thomas' grandmother's house).

"Where?" Patton asked, turning on his heel to look. It was difficult to move without tripping over the odd bin or crate of memorabilia. He found himself faced with a choice to either bend backwards to see around Janus or to stand right next to him. Far too close for propriety, they would be wedged right up against each other like the yearbooks on the far bookshelf.

Patton's heart started to race. Why? Why should he be nervous? He bent backwards, muscles aching in protest at the awkward pose, and peered around Janus' body. "I can't tell."

Janus turned, squinting at Patton's predicament, before looking down at the bins on the floor. He seemed to grasp the issue and extended a hand for Patton to take. "Come here."

Come here. Innocuous words, but the same ones he'd used to bring Patton into his arms that terrible night. Patton's heart fluttered.

He stepped over a stack of textbooks and entered Janus' space. Janus' capelet was soft and velvety against his bare arm; his sleeve a little rougher.

"Are they?" Janus asked.

The poppies were already wilting a little and Patton couldn't help but feel sad about that, even though they were imaginary. "Yes."

"How did you get them?"

"California," Patton said, the memory coming to him on a warm breeze that smelled of the outdoors. "Thomas sees them every time he gets to go."

Janus stifled a cough into the back of his hand, nodding all the while. "He wore them in his hair once."

Patton smiled, mind awash in golden light. Thomas and his friends were making a brief pit stop as they journeyed down I-5 and someone, it didn't even matter who, had spotted the blooms growing by the roadside. And they had all worn flowers in their hair for the rest of the day, bright faces made brighter by the addition of something so beautiful. "Do you like California poppies, Janus?"

"It's funny," Janus said, in a tone so devoid of sarcasm and teasing that Patton nearly did a double-take, "It never occurred to me to like them. But seeing them like this…"

He trailed off, coloring slightly, and Patton's breath caught in his throat. He understood perfectly, too perfectly, and it made him tremble.

It had never occurred to him to love Janus, until one day it did. But this-- Oh, no. Oh, no. Not like this. This couldn't be allowed. Janus glanced over at him and Patton felt his smile snap into place despite the newfound ache of wanting beneath his ribs.

"And here I thought you were going to keep me safe from your room," Janus teased.

"Oops!" Patton ran a hand through his hair. "Give me a second here; I can make a space." He thought for a moment before sitting them both down at a wooden picnic table. He imagined embroidery floss in every color, bins stacked with beads, scissors,  and two rolls of masking tape just to be safe.

"Summer camp," Janus said, smiling that crooked smile.

Despite his best efforts, Patton blushed. He tried not to hate himself for it because Janus wouldn't want that. But he also knew he was being far too selfish now, wanting Janus all for himself. There was a line and he had crossed it. "Do you remember what to do?"

Janus was already pawing through the embroidery thread. Loose strands clung to his gloves and Patton watched, intrigued, as Janus' mouth curled into that not-smile he sometimes wore when he was making fun. He withdrew his hands, trailing rainbow strings despite his efforts to shake them off, and glanced at Patton, startling a little when their eyes met.

Patton wasn't sure what to say. 'It's okay' felt hollow, less than a lie. Utterly meaningless. Janus' gloves meant something to him, something that went deeper than just aesthetics. Patton understood, in that moment, what it was all for: the gloves, the high collar, the hat, the sarcasm, the biting remarks, the exaggeration. All guarding Janus' heart. He must have been very afraid. Suddenly his irritation at Patton's inability to prioritize himself made perfect sense.

"I can help you," Patton said, not wanting Janus to feel pressured into taking off his gloves. "You can keep them on, just tell me what colors--"

"Don't be stupid," Janus snapped. "It's just clothing."

"Oh," said Patton. Heat flooded his face, impending tears burning in his eyes. Understanding didn't make it hurt less.

Janus didn't say anything, couldn't, because he was muffling those awful, barking coughs into his sleeve. They sounded so much worse than yesterday. Patton stared at a skein of auburn embroidery floss. He would have to find some way to get through to Roman.

"That was inappropriate," Janus said when he resurfaced. He was a little out of breath; his breath caused loose strings to flutter.

"I understand," Patton said.

"You do?"

Here, Patton hesitated. It seemed a little rude to read Janus, as Roman would say. He had obviously lashed out because he was scared of something.

Janus winced, pressed his lips together, shifted where he sat. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at Patton. "I shouldn't have said that."

"We can do this another time," Patton said, "if you're not ready. I just wanted…" It seemed stupid to say it out loud now, stupid and manipulative. "I wanted you to feel accepted."

Janus tugged his gloves off without fanfare, folded them neatly, and set them down on the table. His left hand was scaled, which Patton supposed he should have anticipated. "Don't look," Janus said. Patton frowned, trying to parse this, and Janus elaborated, "I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh!" Patton said, relief flooding his chest like morning sunlight through an eastward-facing window. "Okay." He stared at the embroidery thread, thinking. He had never been all that good at color theory, but… Maybe he could do a dark green for Janus's scales, and gold because they shimmered. To represent himself, he would of course use blue thread. And for the two of them, gray. But what shade of green…? Patton picked up a skein of army green floss, then kelly green, then moss green. "Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I need to look at you."

"Oh, Patton, I'm flattered, but need?"

"Can you just give me your hand for a second?" Patton asked, blushing.

"Which one?" Janus asked archly.

"The left one."

"...What for?"

Patton, still not looking at Janus, held up the three skeins of embroidery floss. "I need to color match."

Janus let out a huff of air through his nose. "I'm much prettier than that."

Then an idea struck. "Ooh, I know what to do! I still need your hand, though."

"Alright, alright." Janus leaned over, extending his hand to Patton. He flinched a little when Patton held it in his own, but did not pull away.

"Hmm," said Patton, examining the scales and the way they reflected back the light. It took a bit of thinking, but he managed to imagine a skein of thread in the same glossy green-gold color.

Then Janus stiffened and started to cough again, his hand curling around Patton's fingers until his nails dug painfully into Patton's skin. The fit was low and ragged and rough, left Janus teary eyed and gasping.

"You're sure this is Roman?" Patton asked, dimly aware that he was still holding Janus' hand.

"Forget it," Janus said, his voice like tattered silk. "You said you'd talk to him."

"I'll go right now if you want me to."

Janus shook his head. "Are you done with my hand? If not, I have a few to spare."

"Oh!" said Patton. "Yes. Sorry." He let go of Janus's hand, knuckles aching where Janus' nails had dug in. Janus' cough must have hurt far more than he was letting on.

Right. Compartmentalize. Friendship bracelets.

Patton picked his colors, eyeballed the thread length, cut them down, and taped the ends to the table. He decided on a simple striped pattern, flat, so it could slide easily under Janus's sleeve or the cuffs of his gloves.

"So you and Remus?" Patton said after he had fallen into a rhythm and didn't need to focus quite so hard.

"We're friends, yes."

"But you said--" Patton cut himself off, embarrassed. He certainly didn't want to be reminded of that awful night, and Janus probably didn't either.

"I know."

Patton was pulling too hard. He set his threads down and added another piece of tape. "I don't get it."

Janus sighed. "I'd rather not talk behind his back, but I will say this: He was on his worst behavior when he introduced himself."

Patton considered this but couldn't think of anything to say other than 'thank God.' That seemed rude, so he just kept his mouth shut. The silence that ensued felt equally as rude, and words slipped out of Patton's mouth before he could stop himself, "Do you love him?"

Janus didn't answer. Patton was tempted to look at him, to try to read his expression, but didn't want to risk ruining the surprise. Finally, Janus sighed and Patton heard the gentle rustle of his clothing as he shifted in his seat. "Defensive sarcastic quip."

Patton dropped his threads again so he could muffle a laugh behind his hands. "Sorry, was that too personal?"

"No, no, I love talking about myself. Maybe next you can ask me about my deepest fears."

"I didn't mean to be pushy," Patton said. It was hard not to be; he was so full of love love love he just wanted to give it away like Tupperwares full of snickerdoodles, like wildflower bouquets. He wanted Janus, wanted his whole fam-ILY to know and feel it as deeply as he felt it.

And Janus especially, Patton wanted to tell him with his lips, with his hands, with his tongue. His whole body radiating love.

But just because he wanted didn't mean he could have. He ached with a selfish desire to be held again, safe in Janus' arms. But even Patton was smart enough to understand that that moment was over and done with. They had shared it, and now it was another snapshot for the shoebox Patton kept in his closet. His own memories, separate from Thomas. A testament to his personhood.

They worked in silence after that, until Patton's wandering thoughts came to rest, inevitably, on the trouble at hand. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think we should do now? Thomas can't keep going like this for much longer, I don't think. He hasn't done anything. And I-- I'm not saying-- I'm not trying to say it's, you know, immoral to rest, but this doesn't seem healthy." And also, it did chafe Patton a little, to see Thomas being so lazy, but he could keep that to himself.

"The sooner Logan and Roman get over themselves, the better," Janus said.

"I haven't checked on them yet today." Patton heaved a sigh and tried to focus on his pattern. He had the matte gray hooked around his finger at the moment, his own deliberate reminder to compromise.

"They haven't checked on you at all."

"So, what, then?" Patton asked, struggling not to look up. "I should get mad and ignore them right back?"

"That's what I would do," Janus said. "And you did ask. But…" A long-ish pause. "As we both know, I'm always right."

Oh. Patton closed his eyes, trying not to fold over and bury his forehead in the rough wood of the picnic table. He'd never wanted to see the worst in Janus, but he'd been bracing for it all the same. And every time he held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never happened.

That didn't mean they were never going to fight. Patton knew he was naive, but he wasn't that naive. But he had been bracing for something so much worse than this.

It was for Thomas. He had to remind himself. Janus had even said so, down in the parlor. It was all for Thomas. And Patton was sure, when it came time to make the next big decision, they would be at odds again.

But maybe… Maybe it didn't have to be so hostile. Couldn't they disagree without being enemies?

"You are always right, Janus," Janus said in Patton's voice. "And you're so handsome, and smart, too."

It was equal parts creepy and amusing, but Patton appreciated what Janus was trying to do, so he smiled. "I mean, you are smart. And h--" The word caught in his throat. They did all look very similar, though the subtle nature of the subconscious altered their appearances somewhat. It sharpened up Janus' features some, took away several inches of height, made his eyes dark and flashing. "And handsome," Patton finished weakly.

"You already said that," Janus said, voice dripping with faux-innocence.

"You're sweet, is what you are," Patton teased back.

"Finished," said Janus.

Patton blinked, thrown off, before he realized what Janus meant. "I'm almost done. Give me juuuust a second." He finished the bracelet with a practiced hand. "Can I look now?"

"Give me your hand. Then you can look."

Patton extended his left hand and finally looked over at Janus for the first time since they had started. The bright colors of the bracelet caught his eye immediately; it was an intricate weave of only two colors: bright yellow and true blue. Janus fingers were deft and gentle around Patton's wrist. He made no remarks about the purple and black bracelet already tied on.

"Oh, Janus, it's perfect!" Patton said. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. He let them fall, unashamed. It was nice to cry happy tears for once. "Your turn."

Janus pushed up his sleeve, tilting his head at Patton's bracelet. "What does it mean?"

"The green is for your scales," Patton explained, positioning the bracelet around Janus' right wrist. "The blue is for me. And the gray is.." He paused, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, it's a reminder."

One of the ends brushed against Janus' forearm and he twitched, nearly pulling out of Patton's grasp. "That tickled," he explained.

"You're ticklish?"

"No," Janus said, far too quickly for it to be the truth.

Patton smiled at him, though he knew they were a long way off from friendly touches. It struck him then just how badly he wanted that future. He wanted cuddle sessions with Janus on the couch, just the two of them. He wanted stolen kisses in the kitchen and tickle fights in bed. He wanted Janus, body and soul, consequences be damned. "Noted," Patton said. "Janus: totally not ticklish, even a little bit."

"Gospel truth," Janus said.

Patton finished tying on the bracelet and sat back. "Well…" He didn't want to leave his room, which was a sure sign it was time to go. "I'd better go check on my kiddos."

To his surprise, Janus didn't scowl or nag. He tugged his gloves back on, carefully sliding the bracelet inside the cuff. "What do you say to them?"

"Just that I'm here," Patton said. "And I love them.

"You know, Patton--" Janus got up and held the door open, breaking the spell of Patton's room somewhat-- "sometimes I think you're too good for the likes of us."

And then he was gone, sinking out before Patton could ask him what he meant by that.

Patton went first to Logan's room. Logan had maintained his silence after the meeting, not even answering to tell Patton to go away. The only hint Patton had that he was still in there was that Thomas hadn't gone completely off the rails.

"Hey, Logan." Patton knocked gently. "I'll go away soon, because I know you don't want me to bother you. I just wanted to say… Well, I'm not sure what you need right now, but I know this isn't it. So whenever you're ready to come out, I'll be here." It was so hard not to spill his guts to that plain white door. Almost like a confessional, only that Logan stubbornly refused to tell him what he had to do to earn forgiveness. "I'll go now. Come get me if you need anything, okay? I love you and I miss you." He waited a few seconds for any signs of movement within, but there was nothing.

Down the hall to Roman's room then.

The sight of Virgil seated on the floor with his back pressed up against Roman's cherrywood door made Patton pause, breaths stuttering in his chest.

He kept his distance, but Virgil had startled at the sound of his steps on the carpet.

Patton flashed him a thumbs up and cocked his head.

Virgil nodded.

Patton sank out. What else could he do? If Roman would rather talk to Virgil than to him, well… Patton couldn't blame him.

He sat down heavily at the kitchen island, staring down at the half-finished puzzle. Tears blurred his eyes and he took off his glasses as they started to fall. He was so, so sick of crying. He did it all the time. Every strong emotion moved him to tears.

He wanted to crawl back to Janus' room, relive that tender night. Just once, he wanted someone else to pick him up off the ground. He was thoroughly sick of being his own hero.

He had mostly gotten himself under control by the time Virgil popped up by the fridge. It was only his breathing that still troubled him, heavy and painful in his chest.

"Hey, Virge."

"Since when do you call me that?" Virgil asked, opening the fridge.

It was reflex more than anything that forced Patton to his feet. "I can make you something."

"You don't have to," Virgil mumbled, cheeks going scarlet under his foundation.

"I want to," Patton said. That much was still true, at least. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Uh, I was just gonna make a sandwich," Virgil said.

"BLT?"

"Sure."

Patton nodded, clenching his left hand into a fist by his side. Virgil was incredibly observant; he was bound to notice Janus' friendship bracelet. Patton wasn't sure whether to let him or to bring it up.

Virgil saved him from having to decide. "Where have you been all morning?" Patton wordlessly held up his arm, feeling for all the world like a guilty child. Sure enough, Virgil's eyes narrowed. But to Patton's surprise, no lecture followed. "Janus made that?"

"Mm-hm." Patton nodded. "I made him one, too."

"Is he wearing it?" Virgil asked, looking dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Patton said, a little emboldened now that he knew Virgil wasn't angry. "Tied it on myself."

"He let you do that? Janus?" Virgil ran both hands through his hair, looking at Patton like he'd just expressed a desire to go cliff diving while blindfolded.

"I mean, I didn't have to tie him down."

Virgil sighed through his nose and wandered to the kitchen island with a lost expression. "That's weird."

Patton opened up the fridge. "Are you okay?" he said to the condiments rack, not wanting to make Virgil uncomfortable with too much eye contact.

"Watch him," Virgil said. "Watch him like a hawk… A hawk with binoculars."

"Aww!" said Patton, picturing it. "Oh! How's Roman?"

"Conflicted," Virgil said. "I told him you've been hanging out with Janus."

Patton bit his tongue and pulled a head of lettuce out of the crisper drawer. It wasn't wrong to spend time with Janus. He loved Janus. Love was never wrong. "How'd he take it?"

"Nnnot that bad?" Virgil said. "I think it helps that Thomas hasn't gone full, y'know, Squip."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen," Patton said. He moved over to the counter and paused to take a few deep breaths. His chest hurt a little. Probably just from crying too much. But that reminded him of Janus and that worrisome, mysterious cough. "By the way, does Roman seem… in control?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, he accidentally made it super cold for a little bit."

"Oh," said Virgil, "yeah. He apologized for that. He's okay now."

Patton nodded, trying not to let his worry show on his face. But it crept into the corners of his mind and kept him silent as he made two BLTs. If Janus was sure it wasn't Remus and Virgil was sure it wasn't Roman… Who else could it be? Or what else?

No answers sprang into Patton's mind. He bit his lip and stabbed one fancy toothpick each through sandwiches. He slid one plate over to Virgil, mindful not to upset any stray puzzle pieces, then rounded the kitchen island to sit next to Virgil.

"You…" he started, and paused to catch his breath. "You're not mad, are you?"

"I mean, I don't love that you're hanging out with Janus. I wish you wouldn't. I wish he'd leave us all alone and go back to slinking around in the shadows like the snake he is." Virgil turned his head to look at the new friendship bracelet on Patton's arm. "But you're your own Side. It would be wrong for me to try to control you. I just really hope he doesn't hurt you, Patton."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, pop star, I'm not mad. Just worried about you."

"Thanks, kiddo."

--

It seemed that these days, the mindscape was just made up of one crisis after another. After spending a pleasant day with Virgil, albeit with his breaths dragging in and out of his body like the air was too thick to breathe, the next morning found Patton doubled over in a fit of coughing so intense it knocked his glasses off. He ducked right back into his room, kicking his glasses in before him, and spat out a mouthful of heart-shaped flowers onto the floor.

Hm. Uh-oh. He wasn't an expert on biology, but he was fairly sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

The blooms were pretty, though, bright magenta hearts with little white tails. Bleeding hearts, they were called.

Patton frowned. Hadn't Janus said… Yes. 'I want you to protect that bleeding heart of yours.' How ironic. Maybe. Patton could never seem to use 'irony,' right, something Logan was always quick to point out.

He coughed again, but no flowers came up this time. That was good, probably. Coughing was bad, coughing up blood was worse. Surely coughing up flowers had to be somewhere in the middle.

He stood up straight again and banished the flowers into nothingness. Was it coincidence that Janus had a cough? Was it contagious? He hadn't said anything about flowers, though.

Patton sank out, grabbing his glasses on the way. If he was coughing, then he was probably sick. He knew how to handle that.

Since Virgil rarely spent time in the living room, Patton could hole up there with tea and toast and Adventure Time on the TV. Just until he was better, and then it would be right back to trying to fix things. He wondered if Janus would be proud or whether he would just push for Patton to rest more. Maybe both.

Virgil made an appearance a few hours later, about the time that Patton felt his patience running thin. The cough wasn't getting better, but he had no full-body fatigue to make the cartoon marathon bearable. Sitting still for too long made him antsy.

"Roman invited me in," Virgil called from the kitchen, dashing any hopes Patton had for conversation. "I just wanted to let y-- What are you doing?"

"I think I'm getting sick," Patton explained, wincing as the words seemed to claw their way out of his torn-up throat.

"Are you okay?"

Patton nodded. Aside from the cough, he really did feel fine. Maybe this would pass quickly. "Tell Roman I said hi."

"Will do." Virgil gave one last, lingering look before he sank out.

This left Patton alone with the ache in his chest and the vast loneliness threatening to swallow him whole. He tried not to think too much about Janus, lest he inadvertently summon him again, but it was so hard now. He didn't ever want to be apart from Janus. It was such a pure and simple yearning that Patton couldn't even feel guilty for it (though he did feel an echo of guilt that he didn't feel guilty). But it was a desire born of love, and how could that be bad?

The only bad thing about it was that Janus didn't love him back. Of course he didn't. How could he? All he ever did was run around babysitting Patton through crying spells, desperately trying to get him to pull himself together. There was nothing remotely attractive about that. In fact, with Janus, it seemed that all Patton did was take, take, take. He was guilty of the exact behavior that had him so wrung-out and desperate in the first place. How embarrassing.

Patton coughed into the crook of his arm, catching flowers and leaves in his mouth and banishing them without looking. He'd been sick before, they all had, but never like this. He almost wished for fatigue or a headache, something to make resting a little more bearable. Right now, he just felt lazy.

A bottle of NyQuil appeared on the couch next to him, nestled up against an embroidered throw pillow. Patton looked at it. He could already hear Logan lecturing him about the dangers of misusing medication, but… Patton was sick. And he was imaginary. And Thomas probably knew better than to chug NyQuil at the first sign of illness.

It would be fine. Patton poured out a dose and drank it down with his nose plugged in the hopes of masking the alcohol-tinged artificial sweetness. He still shuddered at the syrupy sensation on his tongue. Then he sank out, changed into his pajamas, and buried himself under his covers to slip into a coma.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Unhinged

One-Shot

This one-shot is my entry for @jtargaryen18 's super spooky Haunted House writing challenge! The prompt was - A celebrity haunted house for charity will be open one night only, Halloween night. You spent days trying to get a ticket online for the event. Thanks to a bad day on Halloween, you get there only a minute before the line closes. You’re the last person to go in and thinking that’s either really bad (everyone is tired or would be in a hurry to see you out) or really good (maybe you’d get some extra time with the one you came to see). You are never seen again.

I had extremely fun writing this story with Mr Freezy! 😍 I hope you guys enjoy it! Please click here to check out all the other wonderful entries!

Description: Villain!Reader meets Mr Freezy aka Robert Pronge and, let's just say they don't get along well.

Warnings: Torture, mentions of murder, non-consensual acts of sex, abusive language, dark theme. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

Word count: 4300~

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You looked at the pale, lifeless face of a certain Mr Patterson. Skin shriveled up, eyes gouged out, side of the face smashed in and the mouth permanently set in a horrified expression, Mr Patterson laid on the table in front of you as his widow sobbed beside him.

"I-I can't ev-even look-k at hi-him," she croaked between her tears, "My sweet-sweetheart, who-o would d-do this-ss to yo-you?" she wondered rhetorically as she completely broke down in the arms of her daughter, a woman of closely your age.

The daughter couldn't bear to look at her deceased father as she consoled her other parent. She looked at you with sadness, "Can you, maybe, make him look, a little, a bit, presentable?" she inquired quietly, "It's not going to be an open casket funeral. But we, we just want him to, you know, look a little…like slightly, better."

You almost laughed at her face on the request, but years of working at a funeral home as a makeup artist to the dead had trained you not to gawk any client's requests.

You successfully suppressed your laughter, and instead donned a sincere expression, "I will surely try my best ma'am. I am sorry for your loss, please accept my condolences."

As the mother-daughter duo left the room, you turned to face Mr Patterson. "Condolences my ass," you muttered as you spat at his face. It was ironic how the majority of your victims found their way to the funeral home where you worked. Take Mr Patterson here for example, not less than 48 hours ago he was begging you to spare his life, and now, here he was, laid out in front of you, lifeless.

You considered him for a moment, then decided against wasting your good makeup on this pervert bastard. Or maybe he might have been innocent? Who cared, he was dead now. Maybe he was truly looking at the Halloween decorations hung around the house behind you that night, or maybe he was just ogling at you. It was dark so you couldn't get a good look. But hey, you had a suspicion that he was checking you out, so you obviously had to teach him a lesson!

You still remembered killing your first victim. It had been your piano instructor. That lecherous pedophile had forcibly pulled you down on his lap, stating that sitting on him will make you a better pianist. You had grabbed the nearest glass vase and brought it down multiple times on his head, until the carpet beneath was red and his screams were all but an echo in the living room of your parent's house.

Since then, murder had become an activity from which you rarely partook in, then turned in to a pastime, a hobby, a passion and now finally, it was as natural and as necessary as breathing for you.

It didn't matter whom you killed anymore. Whether it was an old man looking at his neighbor's Halloween decorations, a dull attendant at the supermarket, an enthusiastic door-to-door salesman, a college student listening to irritating music on their headphone, or an incessant toddler crying for attention in the store, you didn't care. Anybody who irritated you, or pushed your buttons in the wrong way, or just, was at the same place at the same time with you doing something you disapproved of in your mind, you made sure to dispose of them.

The world had enough idiots, you didn't need any more of them around you.

You quickly wound up your work and left. Halloween was tomorrow and you had to make a quick stop to a local celebrity haunted house that you hoped had already been set up. It was being organized by an NGO for some God knows what charity and the tickets had proven to be difficult to procure. So you had just decided to break into the establishment a night prior.

Unfortunately, the exhibit was still being set up when you reached the venue and so, you decided to try again tomorrow night.

🎃

"OMG I can't wait to see him!" the teenagers standing in the line for the exhibit squealed as you watched them from the shadows. You looked at them with disgust, open contempt. Bloody fucking teenagers, you thought as you regarded their extreme enthusiasm. Clad in rhinestone studded clothes which sparkled under the streetlight, all the teenagers were busy on their iPhones. You rolled your eyes as each girl went live on either Instagram, Snapchat, Tik Tok or God knows what app. Fortunately, they were the last group to be admitted inside the exhibit, and if you could just time everything right, then you could maybe pull this off.

Gingerly, you approached the one who was facing away from the group, her front camera facing her with the entrance of the exhibit behind her. You cleared your throat, "Hi, um, excuse me, could you please help me?"

The teenager looked at you and flashed a wide smile, "Sure what's up?"

You smiled in relief, this would be easy, "I think my car keys fell somewhere back there, and my phone died so I can't really find them. Will you please come with me? I could use your phone's flashlight."

"Oh sure absolutely! Hey guys," the teenager called her friends, "Let's go and help her find her car keys."

"Oh no no no that's not necessary," you said urgently as her other friends grinned kindly at you, "I really just need one person. You guys stay here and hold your position in the line. We will be back in a few minutes."

"Are you sure?"' inquired another girl from the group.

"Yes yes," you smiled back in a reassuring manner.

The teenager who came with you - Ashley - looked at the grass and sidewalk at your request. If you hadn't want to enter the haunted house so much, then you would have considered sparing poor Ashley's life. Meh, you thought as you slowly crept up behind her, life wasn't always fair.

"Hey Ashley, please look under this car. I think it might have gone underneath it," you requested with a sincere expression.

She nodded as she got on all her fours, "It's not here."

"Try inhaling a big whiff of air. The keychain has a strawberry scented air freshener on it. Maybe you could smell it?" you suggested, knowing full well that the cyanide sprinkled under the car by you would instantly kill Ashley.

Your plan worked almost too well. As she painfully writhed on the floor gasping for air, you took her smartphone, hid her hideous rhinestone phone cover in your pocket and headed towards the exhibit.

Ashley's friends were waiting for her at the entrance when you reached. You told them that she was on a call with someone and would join them soon. While they still waited for her, you showed the guard the e-pass on Ashley's phone and entered the haunted house.

You were thrilled at seeing your most favorite characters almost alive in front of you! The animated wax statues bore close resemblance to their movie counterparts. Whether it was the Ghostface from Scream, the creepy Annabelle doll, the weird guy in the hockey mask, the Nun, Pennywise the Clown or the long-haired lady from The Ring, they all looked truly horrifying and you were loving it!

As you ventured further, you were surprised to see Chris Evans' character Mr Freezy or Robert Pronge. The movie wasn't exactly popular, but you figured they had maybe included this character now that Evans was all the rage thanks to the uptight stick-in-the-ass Captain America character.

Mr Freezy was standing besides his ice-cream truck, inviting you to enter it in repetitive robotic movements. His face with his signature long hair and glasses smiled at you vacantly as you looked on.

You vaguely remembered watching this movie, hell, you had even copied the cyanide idea from Mr Freezy himself! Just when you squinted your eyes, hoping to remember more parts from the movie, you heard noises behind you.

"She came inside, Officer," said a voice that sounded like one of the girls from the group. Shit! They must have discovered Ashley! you panicked as you looked for a way out. The door ahead of you had been mechanically locked shut, and the voices behind you were growing louder by the minute. The bright lights flickered on and the animations of the objects around you completely stopped.

Except for Mr Freezy.

His movements increasingly sped up and his eyes grew wider. At first, you thought it might be a malfunction, but you were shocked when he whispered your name, "Enter the truck to escape. NOW!"

As if on auto-pilot, you opened the door and hurriedly stepped in. The dry ice engulfed you, the voices lessening in volume behind you. A moment later, the entire truck shook violently, causing you to blindly hold on to the sides and yelp in surprise.

Suddenly, someone pressed the brakes and you lurched forward. The dry ice cleared inside the van as you stumbled towards the driver's seat. You heard someone close the door and walk towards the back of the truck. A moment later, the backdoors of the van were opened by none other than Mr Freezy himself.

Your jaw dropped to the floor and he mirrored your expression, the pair of you taking in each other's appearances.

Your modern 21st century clothes were completely out of place in the 1960s America that was home to Robert Pronge. His blue eyes from behind his long curtain of hair seized you up as he recovered from shock.

"Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing in my van?" he broke the foreboding silence.

You cocked your head to the side, your brain unable to comprehend the reality of the situation. Did you just appear on a movie set? What sort of time-space travel bullshit was this?

"ANSWER ME YOU CUNT," Mr Freezy's voice was loud enough to break you from your reverie, but the strong, tall, well-built man hardly intimidated you.

Instead of cowering as he expected you to, you raised your eyebrow, "So you are one of those method actors huh? Sorry I appeared on your set unannounced Mr Captain Evans," you said with spite as you walked towards him and crouched down to be at his eye level, "I will be on my fucking way now."

"Mr Capta-what? Who the fuck sent you? How did you come inside my van when I locked it? You weren't in there when I left Atlantic Avenue. What the fuc-"

You punched him in the face before he could finish his sentence. Though you liked his deep, smooth voice, his incessant cursing and hostility had started to get under your skin.

As he stumbled backwards from the force of your punch, you looked around him and noticed the absolute absence of large lights, cameras, large crew and any kind of set whatsoever.

You jumped from the van and looked at Chris Evans again as you landed on your feet. He looked exactly like his character in the movie. But something didn't feel right. That's when you heard the small click of his revolver.

Before he could aim it at you, you hit his right palm that held the firearm and twisted it, effectively breaking it in the process. He screamed in pain and tried to move away from you, but you weren't done yet.

Pulling him towards you, your knee brutally met with his pelvis and you punched the air out from his stomach. He doubled down with pain, his eyes watering as he tried to regain balance. But one swift blow to the back of his head turned his world dark.

You were panting when Mr Freezy finally lost consciousness and collapsed on the ground. You looked around again. The streets were isolated and there were barely any houses lined on the sidewalk.

You felt around your pockets for your belongings, but found them empty. You waited around for a few minutes, hoping to get some sense of clarity for your situation as Mr Freezy drooled on the street.

Finally, you resigned and hauled his heavy ass back into the van in the passenger's seat. Desperate for some sort of explanation, you put your hands inside his pants' pockets. You were rewarded with his wallet, some keys and a bunched up paper with an address roughly scribbled on it.

The year on the license was 1963 and the city stated was Jersey City of New Jersey.

Just as you secured his unconscious body with the seatbelt, you took a close look at his face. Despite the creepy hair, he did look handsome. Afterall, it was Chris Evans! Or some sort of alternate-universe-reincarnation-asshole version of his. His soft plump lips looked a bit dirty, so you looked down at his crotch. The pants had riddled up when you had placed him on his seat, giving you a clear outline of his dick.

And my was it a sight!

His thick member was struggling against the uncomfortable position of the pants. The rotund rod was anything but flaccid. You squeezed and rubbed your palm over the semi-hard member, cherishing the disgruntled noises that escaped his lips.

After about 5 minutes, you decided to drive his van back towards the line of houses. You guessed you were at the outskirts of the city and right now, you needed to find how to blend in with the people.

Soon enough, you were deep within the city and found a dress shop. All the signs on the shops which you passed seemed to fit the 1960s, thus leaving no doubt that you had actually time traveled into the past, that too in a completely different timeline.

You considered breaking into the shop and stealing a few clothes, but then decided against it. You were absolutely against stealing. It was probably the only crime you couldn't excuse.

The only time you hadn't paid for your stuff was when you wanted to buy a yellow dress. The lady shopkeeper with kind eyes had told you that the colour purple suited you better than yellow, and insisted that you buy the same. Later that night, you had calmly walked over the old woman's dead body and grabbed the yellow dress that you had loved.

You looked at the dresses in the shop window and decided to come back tomorrow. That's when you noticed the sign "WHITES ONLY".

You went back to the van and grabbed the revolver. Three suppressed shots from the silenced gun destroyed the sign, the wreckage of which witnessed you breaking into the shop and literally stealing everything that was on the premises.

Two. There were two crimes you wouldn't excuse.

You turned the van around and headed back towards the outskirts of the city. It was almost morning by the time you reached the address that you had found scribbled in Mr Freezy's pocket. It seemed to be some kind of a cold storage facility in a dilapidated building.

As you managed to make your way to the second floor with his limp, but still heavy, body, you remembered seeing a similar storage facility in the movie where Mr Freezy stored the dead bodies of his victims.

Your suspicions were proven correct when you picked the lock and entered the room. You found the tub where he cut the bodies of his victims and the chains he used to tie their bodies with.

As you ventured further, you found the dead body of the girl who had been force-fed pufferfish. That you remembered well, because you had tried to buy one but couldn't get your hands on the costly bugger fish.

Looking around, your eyes fell on the chains again and an idea popped into your head.

🎃

Robert Pronge woke up to find himself naked, spread eagle on his table, hands and legs wide apart, tied to the table with secured chains. The worst part? Large chunks of ice were wrapped around his palms and feet, rendering them numb. Waves of painful, frostbiting cold passed through his body. Hardly any sounds escaped his gagged mouth as he feebly tried to recollect what had happened last night.

He vaguely remembered you, a strangely dressed woman who had suddenly appeared in his van and knocked him unconscious.

He tried to look around him, a painful but necessary moment, and he realised he was in his own facility.

After what seemed like a few hours, he heard the door open and the clickety-clack of a woman's heels came near him.

Still shuddering with cold, he looked at you with his hooded eyes, the blue irises filled with hatred.

You chuckled at him. This was going to be fun. "Good morning Robert. Or should I call you Mr Freezy? Do you have a preference?" you cheerfully asked him as he kept staring at you.

You were wearing a yellow dress with white polka-dots, and a small artificial bouffant completed your look. Basically, you were dressed like any other cunt in 1963.

"Oh silly me," you scoffed at yourself, "I forgot about the gag."

A slew of profanities escaped his plump lips as you removed the gag, "You fucking whore! Untie me right now you bitch. Who the fuck do you-aaarrgghhh!" He shut up mid-rant when you slapped his cold naked dick.

"I will not tolerate any bad language. Let's take it from the top, shall we?" you reprimanded him and gave him your name.

He tried to spit at you but failed, his body dehydrated with the cold.

"You have no idea who you have messed with bitch. When my friends find out-"

"Friends?" you asked him, feigning surprise, "I thought you worked alone. Or has Mr Freezy gone all softy for The Iceman?"

Watching Robert gulp in anticipation gave you immense satisfaction. You went away from him, the dull clang of the metal chains filled the air as you heaved and huffed. Finally, he heard you crank the lever and the metal rattled as something huge was hung upside down on the metal hook.

Richard's dull, muted musk reached his nostrils before his dead body came into view. His feet were secured on the hook while his lifeless eyes stared into nothingness. His arms waved around a bit before the metal conveyor belt was brought to a stop.

"See? Richard found you," you claimed excitedly as Richard Kuklinski or The Iceman's body slowly turned above Mr Freezy.

Robert went still. Too still. A different chill had now consumed his body, his heart. He recognised the ugly emotion. He was scared. Terrified. It had been a long time since he had felt this horrible emotion but now, he lay motionless consumed by it.

His desperation grew when he heard you hum lightly, "You don't own me, I am just not one of your many toys". He had to get away from this place, from you.

As soon as he saw you disappear inside the freezer storage, he started struggling against his bonds once again. But the chains did anything but budge. "Now now, that is no way to thank me for making sure you meet your friend,* you scolded him, returning with a heavy block of ice.

"Let me tell you-UGH," you irritably shoved aside Richard's limp body as you came to stand beside Mr Freezy's horizontal torso. "Let me tell you how this is going to work. I want the names and addresses of those dusty, old, poor excuses for flour sacks 'Mafia Bosses' who apparently rule this city," you emphasized with air quotes.

Mr Freezy regarded you carefully. He knew by now that you were dangerous, but even he had his doubts that you would be able to destroy the mafia families in New Jersey. "Rot in hell bitch," he managed to spit weakly.

You rolled your eyes, "Men. Why do they always have to be difficult?" you muttered as you placed the heavy block of ice on his chiseled abs, and he immediately started writhing with the cold. "What did I tell you about your language? Tut-tut, looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson."

And with that, you made your right hand travel down his stomach and towards his thick naked member. Upon the contact, Mr Freezy tried to still his body, but the unbearably cold chunk currently resting on top of him made it impossible for him to stop moving.

You played with the hair surrounding his trunk, twisting and pulling almost teasingly, your eyes searching for his, but unfortunately, Richard's body hung between the two of you, blocking the view. So Mr Freezy couldn't see you and you couldn't see him. But who said there was romance in maintaining eye contact?

You gently wrapped your fingers around his length, making him gasp. "Someone likes this huh?" you cooed as you sped up your gestures, his length soon hardening under your touch.

"St-stop," his command was almost a moan.

You laughed at him, at his pathetic state and at his measly little request, "I don't think you want me to," you teased him as his member was almost erect now. You increased the speed of your strokes, your hands applying more pressure to thick rod that was now bulging with veins.

His hips and thighs tightened, indicating that he was close to the finishing line. But you were not done with him. Not yet.

You completely stopped your ministrations and lifted your hand. A small groan escaped his mouth before Mr Freezy caught himself.

"N-now you lis-listen to me you bit-AARRGGHH" he tried to speak between his pants, but shrieked when you roughly slammed an ice cube against his penis.

"What did I tell you about the swearing?" you chided him as you pressed the ice cube further to his length and balls.

Mr Freezy started fighting his bonds again, and frankly speaking, his refusal to accept his fate had started to get on your nerves in a bad way. You decided to keep the chunk of ice between his legs and grab some early lunch.

You returned in about 2 hours, just to find him in the same position as you had left him. The only difference was that all the ice had now melted. Oh, and there were huge, deep, red cuts on his wrists and ankles, probably due to all the fidgeting.

He was still slightly shivering though. Eh, it wasn't your problem anyway.

"Let's try again shall we?" you asked him as you got a fresh chunk of ice from the freezer. Richard's body was still hanging exactly where you had left it when you reached for Mr Freezy's lollipop again.

He tried to shake his hips, his length dancing along with his movements, as if to discourage you. "No," he muttered through gritted teeth, "No. Stay where you are. Don't you dare don't you fucking da-"

He shut up as soon as you started stroking him again. "We need to do something about your swearing Mr Freezy. Is that the language you use when you talk to kids? Huh? Looks like I will have to teach you some manners."

He soon started feeling the knot in his stomach, ready to unwind at any second, but you stopped. Completely. Again.

Even though he was mentally prepared for the cold hard ice to be rubbed against his genitals, his body wasn't.

This continued for 4 times more before he gave up. As you tried reaching for him for the sixth time, he almost pleaded with you, "I will give you their names, addresses, fucking every detail you would want about the mob bosses. Just let me go."

You laughed at his admission. He nearly jumped out of his skin as your sickeningly sweet laughter filled the isolated room. "Do you really think it's about that now?" you asked him, am incredulous expression on your face, "Ooooh Mr Freezy. I can get that information from anyone! Sure it would be convenient if I got it from you. But that's not what all this is about."

"Wh-why?" he asked, as if he already knew the answer and was terrified by it.

"Because I like breaking strong men," you replied with a pleasant, innocent grin. "Now, let's get back to work. Hhmm?"

"No no wait. I can. No. I will give you whatever you want. You want me to kill for you? I will-"

"Do you think I need a handy boy?" you interrupted him. "You want to give me something? Fine. Then stop swearing!"

He nodded eagerly, "Done. Not a single bad word. I will stay quiet. I promise. Just let me go."

You regarded him carefully, "No," you shook your head, "I don't think you have learned your lesson yet," you claimed decisively as you headed towards his legs.

With what bare minimum strength that was left in him, he shook his body again, hoping to get away from you. "Stop touching me! Stop!"

"It's funny that your mouth says stop," you grabbed his member again, "but your dick says the complete opposite." You bent down to kick a wet stripe from his balls to the tip of his mushroom, giving it a gentle suck as you reached the tip.

Mr Freezy's breath hitched in his throat. While he felt filthy and dirty everytime you touched him, the organ between his legs was aching for your attention. A tear escaped his eye as he realised this was probably the end of his life, that he might never see his son again.

As you set to work on him again, the part of his mind which had refused to accept his fate, slowly started succumbing to your sinful torture. His rebellious spirit was only left with one thought now. To be afraid. Very afraid. Of you.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo @notyourtypicalrose @just-one-ordinary-fangirl

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Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[henryobsessed]

I Took You Home - I’d Like to Return the favor.

Summary: They have had a day of watching The Witcher but Henry finally gets up the courage to ask if he can return the favor.

Word Count: 2780

Warning: First time Oral: female receiving, smut

Previous Chapter 4

Chapter 5

"People linked by destiny will always find each other" 

The sun has disappeared, and the night sky was illuminated by the city lights. Henry was fully dressed but still sitting on the couch with Reba. Sometime around the third episode, the washing machine had sung its finishing song then by lunchtime the dryer had betrayed him. No longer able to use his lack of pants to stay shirtless around Reba he had gone to get changed. On his return,  she had made them a simple lunch of sliced meat and salad. Seeing she was captivated by the series and not wanting to go home yet he had invited her back into his arms to continue watching. Henry really didn't mind watching, although he was getting anxious to know what she thought. He might be able to act confident when he needed to but deep down he needed to know that his work was good.

As they approached the final episode the tension he felt grew, she had been silent, absorbing each episode and only pausing for drinks and toilet breaks. He smiled loving the way she had been absentmindedly playing with his hand that was laying in his lap. The silence was unnerving as her TV went blank so much so that he had to ask "Well........." her light chuckle filled the silence. "you sound like me when I'm waiting for my publisher's final thoughts. It’s hard having someone else critique something you have put your heart into" smiling at her words he also chuckled but then said with a serious edge to his voice "your right, I think it's an artist worst and the best trait, we want it to be perfect to do justice to the character but we are our own worst critic and waiting to hear what another says is torcher"

Reba sat up at this comment, she turned to face Henry. He could see the slight concern in her eyes as she reached up a hand to cup his face. Her thumb brushed his cheek sending a shiver running through him, as she said: "you gave Geralt a voice Henry, he is the stoic hard Witcher that he is compelled to be but you also made him loveable." Her praise, and the warmth of her touch wrapped around him. 

Placing his hand over hers he moved it away from his cheek, lowering his lips to kiss her palm whilst keeping eye contact. Smiling as he felt her shiver he said in a deeper, softer voice "Thank you, that means a lot to me coming from you" the startled look on her face let him know she was not used to this kind of praise, or physical contact. Not wanting to frighten her but also feeling emboldened by her words he finally had the courage to ask what had been teasingly in the back of his mind all day "Was this morning a dream or did you give me a, helping hand?" 

He saw the blush creep up her face, as she moved to pull her hand away but he was having none of it, He kissed once more along the soft lines of her palm.

Henry felt a strong connection with this stranger sitting in front of him. Not just in a creative way but there was a physical pull that he had been fighting all day. Hoping to make her comfortable he had bided his time, but the memory of his morning's enjoyment was always on the edge of his memory.  He watched her blush and stutter and then her eyes deepen as his kiss was felt again. She was trying to form words "Y....You thought I was someone else, I didn't want to ss...startle you so I played along" her voice was soft and distracted as he continued to kiss now her wrist eliciting a soft moan from Reba. 

Henry was so turned on by the way her body was responding to his kisses. Hoping she would not turn away his advance he said in a soft seductive voice "I'd like to return the favour if your let me" never one to act without agreement he watched her waiting for an answer.

Reba was struggling to focus, he could see what his kisses were doing, but he could also see her debating with herself. He chuckled watching the decision process as her eyes, nose and mouth played out the fight. Finally, she looked at him with a soft but open look as she said "Ok" that was all he needed to hear as he leaned forward taking her soft lips captive with his own. 

He started out slow, enjoying the softness of her lips, then he ran his tongue softly across her bottom lip. She was so lost the his arms that she did not respond so he tried again to seek entrance. This time she opened allowing his tongue to explore. The sweetness of her mouth was heady as he enjoyed the feeling of a first non-inebriated kiss with Reba. He heard and felt her moan into his mouth as he tenderly explored her delicate small cavern causing his own body to stiffen in response. 

Wanting to explore more than just her mouth he pulled back catching his breath. Her now bright red lips slightly swollen from his ministrations pouted at the loss of contact. He  stood up and extended his hand to her. She looked at him a sudden look of confusion then uncertainty crossing her features, this caused Henry to pause. He wanted to thank her, to give her pleasure but he didn't want to pressure her into something she was not ready for. So taking a breath to slow his actions he smiled at her and said "I won't do anything you don't want to do Reba, you just tell me if you want to stop" taking his hand she smiled an innocent smile and stood as he pulled her to her room.

Once in the bedroom, he kissed her again but this time it was light and gentle. Pulling back he looked at her hoping she could see the connection he was feeling, the desire. Her face was of one lost innocent and uncertain but there was also a wanting he could see dancing in her deep eyes and slight smile. He needed to take it slow, he decided that tonight he would be the one to undress her. She was wearing a simple grey t-shirt and jeans that accentuated her hourglass shape. Leaning in he kissed her again running his hands along the hem of the t-shirts and then spreading his hands under it exploring the feeling of her skin on her back. He was rewarded with another moan as his hands grazed the side of her bra covered breasts. 

He lifted the fabric and breaking their kiss for a breather removed the t-shirt discarding it on the floor.  Henry looked appreciatively as her, the lacey soft pink bra lifted her plump breasts up enticing him to seek them out. This time he gently kissed her neck, the familiar smell from this morning filling his nostrils.

Henry continued to distract Reba by devouring her neck with his mouth and tongue, leaving small mark in their wake. His hands moving to her jeans button and zipper slipping into her waistband, and loosening its snug hold on her body as they slipped to the floor. He then claimed her mouth again lifting her body against his and laying her on the bed. His body covering hers as he felt her small hands wrap around his large muscular frame. Still fully clothed Henry pressed his now tight member against her causing him to groan into her kiss. Pulling back to give himself restraint he reminded himself that this was not about him right now, he wanted to give her pleasure.

Standing back and looked down at her, her hair strewn about, cheeks pink, lips swollen. Her bodies rapid movement’s as she tried to compose herself, breathtaking. Groaning to himself he breathed deeply running a hand through his hair, willing his body to relax, this was a marathon, not a sprint, and he wanted to cherish her tonight.

Mature Content Ahead 18+ read at your own risk

Panting Reba was lost in sensations, so far this weekend, living the attitude "what could it hurt" was starting to get her in hot water. No longer in control of her thoughts, all she could feel was Henry, his sweet and savory kisses which stole her breath away and her rational thought. His warm hands searing her skin as he touched her while trying to rid her of the layers hindering his efforts. The final layer was removed and all that was left was her lacey pink bra and her lace boyleg pants. Her stomach knotted as he picked her up and laid her on the bed. His body enveloping hers as he kissed her passionately, a thrill and dread pooled in her stomach as she felt his hardness rubbing against her inner thigh. Overwhelmed but wanting, all of a sudden he was gone. He had pulled back and was now looking down at her his chest heaving as he seemed to be trying to gain control.

This was nothing like her last time, her only time. That had been 10 yrs ago when she was 17 and it had only lasted a few minutes. He had been only interested in getting inside her and she had been naïve, obedient following his demands. This time already she knew it would be different, she felt different. Henry smiled at her his rakish grin turning her stomach inside out "Sorry, your kisses were just too nice Reba. I'll slowdown" Did she want him to slow down? And what did that mean. Reba gave him a shy smile in return as she watched him undress in front of her. Giggling she compared the two henry's one drunk unable to even get a button undone and the sober Henry confidently removing his precious shirt and hanging it up while she was laid on the bed watching.

He really did look good; it boggled her mind why at 37 he was still single and didn't have a family of his own. All day during their conversations she hadn't seen or heard anything to make her think negatively towards him. Her mind was suddenly brought out of her musings as two warm hands grip behind her knees and pull her towards the edge of the bed. She looked to the muscular man who was now kneeling at the edge of the bed his head leaning down towards her thigh causing her heart to increase in its rhythm. His lips felt a warm wet on her inner thigh, he looked up at her then, a smile on his face as he asked, "Is this ok?"

It took a moment for her to realise he was talking to her as her mind was so focused on the sensations his gentle touch had invoked in he middle. "Reba?" Henry chuckled at her as she realised she hadn't answered "Yes, but Henry, I've never, no one has ever touched me there I......" The look on his face softened as her words sunk in. He leaned gently on her thigh his head resting there for a moment his eyes not leaving hers as he said "Reba, have you had sex before? Experienced an orgasm?" for Reba it really was a surreal feeling having this Man taking the time to find out about her. Asking rather than just taking.

She sat up on her elbows and really looked at him then, his kind words emboldening her to speak frankly "I have had sex but only once when I was 17, it lasted long enough to take my virginity and that was it. I've not had the inclination or opportunity to be with a man like that until now." His eyes held acknowledgement of the trust she was giving him with that knowledge. He softly smiled again, this time kissing softly her thigh before saying between kisses "Well this will be .... a new experience for you,....... but remember ....... if you want to stop....... or don't feel right just tell me. ........I want you to enjoy this ...... not just add it to your bad experiences" by this stage Reba was having trouble staying on her elbows her breathing accelerated as his lips headed closer and closer. He didn't break eye contact with her until he finally reached her warm mound. She trembled as he looked down that smile of his never leaving his face as he leaned in to kiss it.

The sensation sent a heat wave radiating somewhere deep in her belly causing her to leak, she gasped as she felt the liquid seep into her boyleg. Moving to close her thighs in embarrassment Henry chuckled softly looking back up at her. His hands stroking her legs while keeping them apart "It's ok, that's meant to happen Reba. It means I'm doing my job properly." She could feel the redness in her cheeks but his gaze was reassuring so she breathed in deep and relaxed again. Henry tucked his fingers into the waist of her boyleg's, and looked to her for approval which she gave with a slow nod of her head, removed the lacey fabric. The sensation of his fingers burning her hips as he removed her last line of protection.

Now she was laid bare for him. His intense gaze as he looked at her most intimate place made her flood more. His finger touched her inner lips scooping up a little bit of her moisture. Reba watched in horror as he put his finger to his lips and tasted it. She wanted to tell him off, ask him what the hell was he doing but his look of delight silenced her as he hummed with pleasure "you taste good Reba" with that his head bent and she felt his tongues warmth as it licked from her entrance all they way up to where her lips met. If she thought the feeling of his breath on her thighs or his kissed caused wetness, then the feeling of his tongue running through her labia and over the hooded sensitive spot was explosive. The sensations tearing though her middle as he landed on her clit almost made her lift of the bed as her hips arched into his mouth and a loud moan exploded from her lips.

Encouraged by her response Henry seemed to increase his attention as he licked and sucked at her clit causing Reba to moan louder her body arching and writhing unable to control her motions. She felt a build up in her middle an intense pressure that demanded more as she involuntarily reached out and grabbed henrys head her hand kneading his hair urging him to increase the pressure. She felt his response to her action as he moaned into her clit which seemed to be the final thing to tip her over the edge. Colors exploded in her brain, as an involuntary spasm the started in her toes radiated up to her middle causing her to convulse arching up into a sitting position before collapsing flat on the bed. Her breathing erratic, as she felt Henry's warm tongue begin again to it seems almost clean up the torrent of wetness that resulted from her orgasm.

Every now and then as he tended her he would graze her clit causing her to arch again as mini Vulcanic eruptions spread out through her middle. She could hear his chuckle as he gently rubbed her legs and whispered "Wow" She couldn't move, couldn't respond all she could do was breath. She felt Henry get up and lay next to her, he kissed her temple and laid his head next to hers. She knew he was waiting for her to recover to find her voice. Eventually she was able to speak softly in awe of what she had just experience "Is that what it feels like for you?" She could hear his smile as he chuckled "well I don't know, its different for everyone. But it looked like you had mini orgasms straight after I only get one." She laughed at the sound of a pout in his voice at that statement.

Reba finally opened her eyes feeling her heartbeat return to normal, there staring at her studying her face were two beautiful blue eyes with a hint of brown in one. Their depth held a question that she was not sure she was ready to answer. Was she prepared to do more, risk more? He had already shown her an experience that was unlike anything she had ever felt. Was she willing to experience it all. Reba sat up and moved back out into the kitchen grabbing two water bottles from the fridge. Walking back into the bedroom she saw that Henry had made himself comfortable leaning up against the headboard waiting for her. In the look he gave her she saw no sub defuse, no false bravado. Just a genuine kind expression, relaxed and open to accept whatever tonight held. It filled Reba with a calm as she handed Henry the water slipped into the covers and like she had done all day cuddled into his arms and relaxed.  

Next Chapter 6   

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[oftenderweapons]

Stress Reliever  - Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 3.9k words

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

Hello! As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ll be publishing longer scenarios which could actually be considered small one-shots. The first theme will be stress-relieving/angry sex (’cause let’s admit it, that’s one great way to blow off some steam and ease some tension) 

I’ll be following the official order, so I’ll start with Namu uwu. 

I don’t really think I need to say this is smut, and filth and an unedited mess. Let’s just move on to trigger warnings. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: swearing; unprotected sex within an established relationship (wrap it before you tap it, and please get checked for STIs regularly) lingerie kink, DADDY kink (like, how could I not) plus Joon is fucking packed and we all fucking know it, dirty language, allusions to cheating (but like, not really, how could one possibly cheat on daddy big dick Joon? Ha, not me), spanking, ddlg/bdsm dynamics, brat!reader, oral (female receiving, mentions of male receiving), peaches and cream (don’t look at me like that, how could I NOT do this) marking, biting, overstimulation and ruined orgasm (listen, daddy makes the rules, it’s not my fault, next time be less of a brat), cumplay, mild angst (lack of attention, abandonement issues). RIP to y/n’s deceased La Perla set. I suppose this is all? This is quite pwp, but not really. About 3900 words.

Also, here you can find my masterlist. Enjoy!

Your day had been phenomenal, your boss had complimented you and assigned you a new office as you joined your new team. You had celebrated going out for lunch with your new colleagues, getting to understand the dynamics and roles within the groups. Since you were given a free afternoon to receive a general briefing and celebrate your promotion you went off work earlier than usual, deciding to get yourself a nice new dress and some celebratory lingerie, all Italian lace and silken bows.

But your mood was sour. Namjoon didn't even bother reading your text, ignoring you all day, which normally would not bother you, but considering how hard you had been working for that promotion and how tired you were, but most importantly considering he knew how much it mattered to you, it really upset you. And you were meaning to make him pay for it. 

As you arrived at home you started getting ready, you bathed and did a face mask, hair all pretty and soft, fixed your nails. You felt gorgeous. Gorgeous and furious. Which was normally a very entertaining combination when you added Namjoon, who was currently absent without justification. He should have arrived home twenty minutes ago. 

When he finally came through the front door, you were lounging annoyed on the sofa. 

"Hi." 

You did not answer. And he didn't even notice, nor look at you. 

He went straight to the bedroom, got rid of his clothes and wore something comfy, going straight to the kitchen. 

"No dinner?" He asked. 

"I'm going out." He looked up to where you were sitting, a little baffled. 

"And no dinner?" 

"I called at the Garden, booked a table for two at nine. You could get ready in fifteen. It's on me."

His forehead creased. "I'm a bit tired."

You raised a brow. "I'm going out anyway." 

He huffed out. "Okay. Let me wear something decent."

Five minutes later he headed out, in jeans and a white shirt. He looked completely insane, the sleeves slightly rolled up, his hair pushed back. "Am I okay?" 

"You look divine." You were too turned on to deny him a compliment. "I'm sorry I made you dress up. I really wanna destress." 

His half tired look in his eyes had disappeared, probably thank to the brief shower he had taken. "It's good, baby."

You headed to the restaurant, his hand perched on your knee during the drive, his head heavy on your shoulder. He still hadn't mentioned your promotion. 

A nice waiter welcomed the two of you, he must have been new, considering you had never seen him before and you and Joon were pretty much two regulars there. 

He accompanied the two of you to the table, your hand reaching for your man, while he looked absolutely lost, completely disconnected from you. Even at the table you tried to spark a conversation but he was entirely unresponsive, only mentioning that he had been working on his new collaboration and he had been late because he had to meet the singer. The fact that it was a woman low-key triggered you. It's not like you were jealous, or maybe you were, but jealousy was a feeling you had felt before and you had always had the self control not to act upon it. However, mixing that mild jealousy with the disappointment of him not acknowledging your promotion and your special effort for your looks, together with his detached demeanour had you starting something you never thought you would have the guts to do. 

You started being excessively polite -- borderline saccharine -- to the cute waiter, asking for his name and behaving in an almost too friendly way, offering him nice smiles and sugary 'thank you's. 

Not that Namjoon seemed to notice. 

You were getting half an idea to gently grab the waiter's wrist and write your phone number on his forearm just to see what your boyfriend would do. 

By the time you finished your main course and got ready to close your meal with dessert, you were so upset you gave up on your usual tiramisu, telling Geonwu -- the waiter -- to hand you the bill. Namjoon seemed to get out of his bubble for a second, as you turned down the dessert, suddenly triggered by your strange change of habit. He must have really upset you, he thought as you gave the waiter your card and waited for the payment to be processed. 

A few minutes later you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes and heading for the bedroom. You hoped he would trip over your discarded shoes. Damn him. 

In front of the mirror in your ensuite, you started taking off your makeup, slowly undoing your hair. You hated him. 

He reached the bedroom too, standing in the door between your room and the bathroom, looking at you through the mirror. 

"I know what you were trying to do at dinner." He crossed his arms. "I don't like it at all." 

"I wouldn't have done it if you had payed attention to me." You took off your earrings and your watch. The necklace he had given you for your first anniversary. "But you were… Busy."

"So you wanted me to pay attention." He came up behind you, pressing himself against your backside. "Sorry thing I already knew you would land that promotion." He kissed your neck, slowly starting to unbutton the mother pearl buttons on your silk camisole. "So I thought I could keep you on edge and make you snap at me, make you so angry you would finally take all that tension off on me."

You held your breath as he nibbled at your neck. "And I know you were trying to rile me up and make me jealous just to get me to fuck you like crazy, uh?" 

He finished with the buttons and untucked your shirt, discovering the black lace corset underneath. 

"Was this part of the plan, little vixen?" He toyed with the strings of the undergarment, his sex now hard against your back. 

You nodded eagerly. 

"Then bend the fuck over cause Imma teach you a lesson." He lifted up your pencil skirt. "These are new, aren't they?" He said teasing the fabric. 

"Yes, daddy. I bought them for you." You just wanted him to snap, hoping that your submission would spark up his dominance. 

You saw a shiver ran down his spine. "So kind, but you didn't bend over yet. And this won't save you from your punishment." He said, pressing a heavy hand between your wing blades and pushing you down. "You know daddy likes giving you attention, so why didn't you ask?" 

"I didn't want to bother you, daddy." You already felt a whine in your voice, a petulant, bratty tone emerging. 

“I still don't get whether I should treat you like the brat you are or like the good girl you’re desperately trying to be.” Suddenly you felt the heavy smack of him delivering the first hit. You moaned out in relief and arousal. “You better keep quiet. You kept quiet while you should have told me you wanted me, so now that you wanna talk you’d better keep it down, brat.” he delivered another spank, making his point clear. “Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.” You lifted your head, your eyes rolling up from under your lashes.

He licked his lips and used his spare hand to hold your chin up high, so to maintain eye-contact. “Good girl.” He caressed your bum delicately. “Shall we say that you received your promotion at nine a.m., and now it's almost midnight. That makes it fifteen hours of you keeping it from me. Considering that you’re always so eager when I spank you I won’t include the first two blows I already gave you. Now hold tight because dirty girls like you don’t learn their lessons from soft punishments.”

By the thirteenth blow you were gripping the sink, knuckles white, face blushed with effort, a coat of arousal and sweat slickening your thighs. Namjoon’s tempo had slightly slowed down in order to softly brush your sensitive skin between a spank and another. “Come on, two more, ____. Enjoy them.”

He hit you with full force. Considering that you’d got used to the pain, your tolerance adjusting to his attack, he must have really put some fury in the last two. 

Now finally done with your punishment, he moved you slightly to the side, so to use the sink to cool down his palms. “Next time I should use a paddle. No use hurting my hands for punishing a spoiled brat.” Some part of you already felt a dark craving, moaning at the thought. He snickered at how hungry you always were for him.

He passed the cool skin of his hands on your glutes, offering you a small reprieve, taking care of you without giving any explicit sign of your punishment being over. You knew it wasn’t, and it didn’t surprise you when he hooked his fingers in your panties and dragged them down your legs, kneeling to unhook them from your feet. “Those don’t deserve to be ripped.” Now at perfect eye level with your slit, he couldn’t help but give in to the smell and taste of you, licking up your soaked thighs, nuzzling his lips against your sex, delivering one sweet kiss. “Can you take it like a girl good and make daddy happy or do you wanna slow down?”

He probably knew how exhausted your muscles must have been from the position you were into. However, you wanted it your way. “Make daddy happy.” You murmured.

He smiled like a madman, still between your thighs, biting one of the few spots that weren’t bright red on your behind. He raised to his feet, towering over your bent shape, his nimble finger undoing his belt and jeans, gripping his hard on and using the tip to tease your entrance. “Baby, you got me so hard, watching you take your spanks so well, your ass so soft, quivering like jelly. You should see yourself right now, baby. Looking like a wet dream.” 

He caressed down your shoulders, using his free hand to hold your waist. You knew he wouldn’t bend down to kiss you, that would be so out of character. And considering he hadn’t stretched you out, you also knew it would hurt. 

“Ready?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.” He offered you his hand in your own and you gripped it hard as he slowly sinked in. It took him half a minute to bottom out. A deep groan followed. “So good, babe.” 

You released a heavy breath, squeezing you inner muscles lightly. “Woah baby, fuck.” He swore viciously, carefully beginning to roll his hips, both his hands on your waist, one of yours joining there, reaching for his fingers, craving for a small sign of affection while he was being careful not to hurt the bruises already forming on you ass. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, looking for the smallest sign of discomfort on your face and posture. Once adjusted, you arched further, allowing him a shift in angle that had him hissing and throwing his head back. His beautiful, dark hair followed, catching your attention in the mirror. His chest, still covered in the shirt, inflated, straining the buttons on his sternum. You would have done anything in that moment to kiss the small triangle of skin appearing at the base of his neck. 

Now newly focused, his eyes opened and fixed on you, while one of his hands moved to your breast, still covered in the corset, toying with your nipple, then gripping the flesh with his big palm.

“Joonie,” you dared murmur as his pace intensified. 

“You good baby?” He slowed down again, in fear he was hurting you. 

“So good, Joonie, I just—” You shut up a second, needing to focus before you continued your sentence. “I wanna cum, daddy.”

“It’s okay baby, let me take you there.” He made you turn your face and caressed your cheek tenderly, using his other hand to reach between your thighs, drawing taunting, tight circles on your clit, with just the right pace and pressure. God only knew how he did that. 

“Keep squeezing me baby, so close.” He gripped the back of your neck for leverage and his thrusts got stronger and faster, you completely losing it over the way his hips stayed closer to yours and pushed harder, pulling out just an inch before plunging in again. 

Your orgasm washed over you with sweet relief and you were sure it would have gone on for a bit less than a minute hadn’t Joon pulled out of you, his hand still toying with your clit, his vicious fingers way too skilled not to know how much he was affecting you -- and how wrong it all felt. “Joon, inside!” You cried out, barely coherent, only now noticing in the reflection that his arm was moving aggressively, his lower lip caught between his teeth before it slipped out, his jaw angrily clenching in a way that made you want to turn around and suck him into oblivion. 

“This ass still needs something.” He spat out through gritted teeth. 

Your mouth opened in wonder as you felt him press his tip to your skin, his hot flesh turning even hotter when he groaned out almost desperately, one hand still on his shaft, milking out his cum. 

“Do you like that, daddy?” You teased, wanting nothing but his fucked out babbling to praise you. 

“Love it, vixen, you nasty little fucker. I’ll put a damn ring on your dirty finger someday.” He muttered, his high almost over, the hand on your mound parting your labia before he slipped in sloppily, some drops of his orgasm ending inside you, while the rest made a sticky mess between the two of you.

He crumbled forward, mouth at your neck, his spine arching up away from you as he kept pushing his hips against yours, chest deflating with heavy breaths. One of your hands removed the fingers still massaging your sex into overstimulation. You were both a sweaty bundle of limbs, exhausted and brainless. 

“I’m so in love with you, ____.” He whispered in your ear. “My perfect baby.” The hand under you slipped to your chest, helping you handle the weight of your upper body. “Can you wait like this a couple seconds? I need to clean you up before we make a mess.”

You nodded sleepily while he stretched towards the closest towel, wetting the cloth under the tap and placing it against your skin as he slipped out. The arm under you helped you rise up, his mouth immediately kissing your cheek. 

“Did I go too hard?” He asked, his free hand touching you in tenderness and devotion, stroking your heated skin. He used a clean corner of the towel to swipe the dirty spots on your behind, then cleaning himself roughly.

“It was amazing.” Your head propped on his shoulder, your neck stressed because of your previous position. 

“Let me take you to the bathtub and ease out the knots on your muscles, yes?” He discarded the cloth and turned you around, kissing you softly and fondly. “I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you again. “You’re amazing.” He pressed his mouth to your forehead, “and now I wanna take care of you.”

He took off your corset with care, knowing how sensitive you were, but also how tired your body was, incapable of handling any violent push and pull to undo the garment. 

“Tell me you didn’t ruin it.” You said, voice imploring. 

“No. I was careful. I still regret ruining that La Perla I got you for your birthday. The colour looked so good on you.” He blushed, completely oblivious that two minutes ago he had been an unbelievably sexy, self-confident man spanking you and ruining your orgasm without the smallest hesitation. 

“I feel so spoiled, I took a bath this afternoon.” You murmured, thinking of all the wasted water. 

“Would you prefer a shower?” He asked, already closing the tap.

You nodded. Your muscles were sore but your conscience was still awake.

Opening the enormous shower he loved so much, he helped you sit down on the wide seat on the wall, flinching as the cold marble made contact with your bruising skin. 

Namjoon looked at you with wide eyes, feeling sorry for the pain you were feeling because of his selfishness. 

“Can I make it better?” He asked, caressing your face gently before pushing your hair back. His concerned tone made your insides melt. 

“I think that having a proper orgasm with your tongue between my legs would help.”

“You’re a spoiled brat. Never gonna learn.” He tried sounding angry, but the smile on his face told you otherwise. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You opened your legs wide as he kneeled before you. “You mentioned putting a ring on it, Joonie.” You teased, the inside joke between the two of you now sounding way too serious after he said it in that context, with that voice just an orgasm ago. 

“Careful or I’ll wife you.” He kissed your inner thigh, biting playfully. “Fill you up with babies.” He bit the other side. “Have you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”

“Please do, kind sir.” You begged, laughter spilling from your mouth.

He positively laughed at that, his fit of giggles tickling your skin. You were overflowing with love for him.

“Sounds shady coming from a lady who was flirting with the waiter at dinner just tonight.” He started sucking at your skin, the tissue bruising easily after his harsh treatment. “Do you think I forgot?”

Here he was again: gone Joonie, welcome daddy. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed sarcastically against your other thigh, now just a couple centimetres away from your heat. “Do you think he could have done you like that?” His hand grasped your breast, squeezing it viciously. “Like I did tonight?”

“No, daddy.” Your mouth opened as he started rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Do you think he could discipline you?” He asked, his voice matching the love bite on the soft skin of your crotch where your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Of course no, daddy.” You repeated, shifting delicately in your seat to accommodate his mouth.

“Good.” He perched your legs on his shoulders, then his tongue licked your labia forcefully, your flesh and his adhering perfectly, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit deliciously. 

The angle was difficult, and if it hadn’t been for the whole sink ordeal, you would have probably balanced yourself on your arms and used your hips to fuck his face midair, but from the way he was looking at you, you could tell Namjoon knew he couldn’t trust your body like that tonight, the risk of you slipping because of a lousy grip or tired muscles too high. 

Much to your dismay, he parted his mouth from your cunt, meeting your gaze. You loved seeing how blissful he got when he was using his mouth between your legs, his brain too focused to think of anything else. It was his go-to stress reliever.

“Hold tight. Be careful.” He said with intention, as he moved an arm behind your back and brought you closer to his face, making you plant your feet on the ground as he laid down on the empty floor. With some attentive adjustments, following his lead, you ended up straddling his face, his head luckily away from the stream of water falling from the shower head. 

“I need you to ride daddy’s face, little vixen. Show me how much you wanna belong to me.” He teased with a dark growl. 

“That sounds so good daddy!” You squealed enthusiastically. “I’m going to make you so proud.” You promised, smiling at him before his mouth latched on you, his arms snaking around your waist and dragging you down. 

“I’m so happy when you lick me, daddy.” You said, voice mischievous, while he enthusiastically picked up his pace.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” His tongue lashed on your clit mercilessly as he kept pumping your most sensitive part with the muscles of his cheeks, hollowing them with the force of his movement. 

“I’ll learn...” Your breath caught in your lungs. “I’ll be so good to you.” 

His hands helped you balance yourself attentively, chasing your high, until you felt your eyes closing, the room spinning around you and your hips moving on their own command, your climax already possessing you. 

“Daddy, please, that’s...” The breathiest moan exited your mouth, your arms collapsing, Namjoon’s hands on your hips the only thing keeping you from smashing face first against the tiles. He moved his head with wide sweeps upwards, accompanying you through your high. In the meantime you managed to readjust, your weight now again in control, you eased Namjoon’s arms, thinking of how tired he must be. 

You lifted yourself up, sliding away from his face, down to his lap. 

He was incredibly hard, once more, quite unusually. “Please, let me ride you, daddy.” You tried to persuade him. “I’ll do all the work.” You were literally batting your eyelashes at him. 

He laughed breathlessly. “How can I tell you no, baby, when you sound so nice?”

“Can I?” You pouted. 

“Yes, baby.” He groaned.

You were on him in two seconds, grabbing him, squeezing him gently in your palm -- at which he shut his eyes tight -- and holding his tip towards your entrance, sliding on it flawlessly. 

“You feel amazing, ____.” He breathed from his spot on the floor, still in the same position as you’d left him after your mind-blowing climax.

You moaned out at the sound of your name, going already pretty fast to make sure that you both came as soon as possible. Namjoon’s hands led your vicious pace while your hand, already toying with your core, made sure that you could come to the edge of your third high within a few minutes. “Joonie, tell me you’re close.”

“Keep going, baby, almost there. Use your-- oh that!” His mouth opened, eyes scrunched. “There!” 

You smirked naughtily as you worked him with your kegels, hips gyrating on him.

“Joonie, help.” You called out, noticing that his arms were going slack. 

Exhaustion was getting to the both of you, but as he pushed up, chasing his sensations, you felt the change of angle and in a couple seconds you felt his hot cum fill your every crevice, your own orgasm mixing with his as your upper body collapsed, mouth searching for his neck. “Joonie.”

“Here.” His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your legs started shaking and giving out. “I’ve got you, ____ baby.”

Your nose brushing against the side of his jaw, teeth scraping gently against the vein on his neck, you let your body be lulled by his breathing. 

“Love, let’s finish this shower and head to bed, yes?” He caressed your hair back, lovingly.

You have little memory of what happened afterwards, except his weight beside you on the mattress, the lights switching off his heartbeat calling you to sleep.

[georgemackayhey]

More Than A Night Out

warning: Explicit content 18+ Only

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You sat behind the roped off a section of a smoke-filled bar in one of Vegas' most hectic hotels, sporting a fancy dress and feeling a bit anxious.

"I'm George. And you're who I'm supposed to be introducing myself to, right?" He stood leaning in close before you clad in a casual leather jacket with his hands shoved in his pockets. Reading body language had become a much more important part of this job than you'd once figured. But there was a difference between assessing and staring. And you had to catch yourself on the edge of openly gawking at the lean beauty who called himself George.

"Yes, yes, thanks for sparing some time for a chat." You smiled warmly, scooting to the corner of the curved red vinyl booth. George let his nervous grin flicker into a warmer expression as he slid in to meet the opposite corner of the table.

You were a writer for an independent magazine based out of New York. Your publisher had sent you all over America to interview all kinds of talented people of current pop culture. You were used to celebrities and their lingo, and you were used to the pseudo niceties these interviews came along with. After answering your questions with nothing but pride, your subjects would leave and go on being popular. It was your job to make them seem like normal human beings, with an overload of charm.  

In your lap, a hardback notebook held all your hastily scribbled questions that you thought up in preparation for this moment. You were meant to ask George MacKay how his latest film had changed his life and about his rise to fame. You were supposed to get him to gush about acting and tell you some beautiful antidote no other interview had managed to hear the likes of. Your job tonight was to focus on George's latest project, 1917. But George asked the first question.

"So you've been doing this a while, huh?" The man with sky blue eyes asked. A waiter had breezed by, sliding a list of drinks for you pair to choose from.

"I only ask because the bio in your email was like, really impressive. I don't know if I'm worthy." George laughed, gazing at the beer list as you shrugged. You had conducted conversations with the likes of many old, jaded stars. Tonight was different. A young, spirited man sat across from you and his eyes were shining right into yours. You were completely unworthy.

"Don't worry. I'll only write exactly what you say." You smiled, eyeing the mixed drinks, but only ordering water when the waiter came back by.

"What's been your craziest interview?" George wondered, propping his chin in his hand as he looked to you like a boy in school, and you were a fireman on career day. You laughed out loud, because yes. You laugh because you were supposed to be asking the questions.

"I made Axel Rose cry." You grinned, peeking behind a strand of your hair to ensure this wasn't something you went around telling everyone. "He was the guest during a benefit for our magazine. I asked about his family and he just sort of lost it."

George laughed out loud, beaming at you. So far, this felt more like riffing with an old friend of a friend. You nearly forgot about the list of questions in your lap. But even after you cracked open your notebook, George still had more to say.

"With the right questions, I bet you get a lot of dirt." He rose a pale brow as if there was something he was trying to get you to understand. A code he wished you would crack.

"You should let me ask you a few." You mused, leaning in a little closer to establish your longing to get this show on the road. Not that you wanted the night to end sooner. You could have basked in the glow of his blinding smile for all time. But you were on a clock...

George watched your mouth move as you asked him about 1917. He looked you in the eyes when he told you his favorite memories from set. You watched his hands move around as he explained the impact that acting out such a tumultuous time period had on his personal and professional life. In the lulls in between conversation, when he paused to sip his lager, your eyes met each others. It was by far one of the more enjoyable nights of your career. He was easy to listen to and very lovely to look at.

When the clock struck midnight, and your notebook was filled with more information than you'd even consider finalizing, the night ended. With smiles and genuine thanks, you parted from the grotty Vegas bar. But as you made your way through the casino, you turned back to see George lingering near the elevators, watching you disappear into the crowd.

___

Up in your luxurious room, too nice for someone to stay in all alone, you checked your phone. You had a flight to catch in the morning, travel that would put you home right in time for the weekend.

But a dark email loomed at the top of your notification bar. Your flight had been delayed due to weather, a wicked snow storm had taken residence in New York. Seriously, this late in February? The airline had given you a limited few options for later flights, and you slumped on the downy hotel bed, booking the soonest flight out of this trashy city.

Looked like you'd be spending another day hanging around the hotel that felt more like a small city of its own. Luckily, you had something, rather; someone to write that would keep you pleasantly distracted.

___

Last nights silky was totally worth sporting in front of your modern-day movie star crush, but you were glad to be more comfortable this morning. After a long scalding shower, you slipped into reasonable leggings and an old band shirt that was a few sizes too large. This could pass as sporty, right? With thoughts of fashion draining from your head, you grabbed your laptop and started a lazy shuffle toward the lobby of the hotel.

You usually wrote in coffee shops, back home, but the lobby swarmed with tourists was a little too hectic for your liking. Luckily, you wandered to the opposite wing of the lodge and found a relatively cozy nook outside of a casino. It was too early for the swarm of gamblers to distract you with drunken cheers, but the stead buzz of well-groomed patrons coming and going from the bar was white noise music to your ears.

You nestled into a chaise lounge chair by a window and ignored everything besides your laptop screen. There was nothing that could stop you from spending a little too long scrolling through George's fan tag on Instagram. When you finally started to outline the story based on his interview, you were one hundred words from your limit of one thousand, and you still hadn't said everything you wanted. You could have gushed over his polite and charming nature long enough to take up every page of the magazine you worked for.

But you reigned yourself in, reworded for a while, and started to finalize the article when a passer-by disrupted your work for the first time in a couple of hours.

"Is that about me?" It was him.

"Oh my God." You laughed, clutching onto your laptop like an instinct. You were shocked to see George again; dressed in a fine-looking sweater that made your heart buzz with a silly warmth. You cursed your leggings and wondered why you were stupid enough to wear your old thrift store Bowie tshirt in public.

"Can I read it?" George grew a wicked grin, moving to sit at the foot of the chaise you occupied. You scrambled to straighten your poster as your heart speed up in search of an excuse. You really shouldn't let him do that- but you couldn't say no to his sweet face, especially when he was smiling right at you.

"Uh..." You glanced between George and the laptop you'd been staring at for far too long. You realized that you were one spell check away from sending the damn thing in. You pressed the spellcheck button in a flash, so you wouldn't have to lie. But no errors were found, and you were left with zero choice.

"Just know I shouldn't be doing this." You warned, scooting your laptop away with a cringe. George, in all his charm, waggled his brow at you as he leaned in a little closer to read your story. You held your breath at his silly expression and ceased to breathe the entire time his eyes locked onto your laptop screen.

"This..." George spoke up after a very scary bout of silence. He shook his head as his eyes scanned the page on your laptop, and you felt your heart begin to stall.

"You actually, like... listened to what I had to say," George smirked in unmistakable disbelief. "It's so much more than a Q&A. You drew conclusions and made our conversation into a story. It's perfect." George glanced up to you for the first time in a while, and his eyes were searing into yours.

"Geez," You chuckled nervously, digging your nails into the stitching on the cushion below you. "Thank you, George. I never really get feedback like that from anyone I write for." You realized. Sure, you're articles we're promoted by the people featured in them, but they hardly ever had a direct comment on your work.

"When is it coming out?" George wondered, leaning on his elbow, looking up toward you. You leaned toward the laptop that was the barrier between you and the pretty man, but were closer to him than ever before.

"I just have to change the font..." You noted, pressing buttons as you spoke.  "open my email..." George's eyes eventually flickered from your face back to your screen. "and send it in."

"Would you like to do the honors?" You grinned, moving the cursor over the send button on the screen. George gazed back to you with a hearty chuckle but didn't waste much more time before clicking the send button for you.

"And now we wait." You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your waist as the handsome man smiled your way. Oh if you'd only put on a little lipstick...

"How should we pass the time, then?" George wondered in a curious lilt. "Oh, let's go drink one of those thirty-four-ounce margaritas to celebrate. It's the perfect occasion to day drink." Was he kidding? Because you weren't entirely sure if you were being punk'd or not, you tried to hide your wide-eyed reaction as you responded.

"I'm hardly dressed for the occasion." You grinned, shutting your laptop.

"If it's any consolation, that bar is empty right now, besides there's a lady asleep in the back in her clothes from last night." George pointed across the way. There we're people flooding the casino and taking their drinks to gamble. There was no way you were about to pass up this opportunity.

In the blink of an eye, you were sitting at a bar top, turned toward each other to share a ridiculously overpriced thirty-four-ounce strawberry margarita out of honest to God silly straws.

"This should actually be illegal."

"Do you remember the prohibition, George?" You laughed, watching the blended ice travel through the purple looped straw as you sipped.

"Of course not." George laughed incredulously. "Just because I lived through the war doesn't mean I'm that old."

"Ha ha." You mused, wondering why it was so easy to be around George. You'd just met him, but from the moment he opened his mouth, it was like you'd been chatting together for years. It was like he saw past the questions you were being paid to ask, and heard you asking them. Maybe just because you really did want to know his answers.

"I want to know what you've lived through," George demanded, taking a turn to drink out his straw from the margarita you'd been sharing. He'd been asking questions like that since you'd met him, and your chest blossomed with nerves as he peered up at you through his lashes. In your nervous scramble to give George an answer, your brain settled on a story about the first time you met Will Smith.

"Wait, wait, wait." George broke away from his green silly straw and held a dismissive hand out in front of you.

"We're off the record now, y/l/n. I want to know the real shit! Ya know, the last time you cried. Your Chipoltle order." George was waving his hands as if his questions were obvious. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back and relishing the moment you realized how lucky you were to be living in this moment.

So you reluctantly told him some things. You couldn't justify giving your best details away, but you liked the idea of a stranger knowing you the worst thing you did in second grade, and a silly trademark your family coined. George kept his brilliant gaze set on you, and you could almost see your own stories coming to life in his eyes. He was actually listening to you.

The focus on you was becoming a bit too overwhelming, so you shifted to ask George a few more questions, tipsy enough to pry for a few of the same antidotes George had asked you for. After laughing over a few fun facts about his hometown and the time he ran away from his mum in the supermarket, you both settled into silence. You were busy trying to compute how wild this afternoon had turned.

"How long are you staying?" He asked after a beat. When he caught your attention, you realized he'd never lost it and you'd been staring at him like you longed to do last night.

"Oh uh-"

"I was gifted tickets to one of those Cirque shows and my friend's flights got canceled.. So... I thought maybe... you'd wanna..."

"I... sure." You sit up straight, trying to bite back the cheesy grin on your face. You weren't sure how you ended up here in Vegas, sharing a drink with a stunning boy, but you thanked your lucky stars as George went one telling you the details he'd roped you into tonight.

___

The storm in New York had only gotten worse, as you scrolled through updates on your cities local website. Your flight was supposed to take off tomorrow morning, but the storm hadn't let up since the last flight got canceled. You decided now wasn't the time to worry, and went about tearing through your suitcase praying you'd find something nice enough to wear.

You exchanged room numbers, agreeing to meet up at George's tonight. You had more than enough time to get ready but still scrambled to present yourself as perfectly as possible. Agreeing to a night out with George was as lucky as you'd ever been.

After shimmying into a pretty outfit and fixing your makeup just right, your phone buzzed with a notification. Your editor had sent you the final edit of the story you'd written for George, praising you for a job well done. You couldn't help but giggled as you skipped down the hall on the way to George's room, three stories higher.

"Hello, love! You look wonderful." George smiled wide as he opened the door, gesturing for you to come in. His single room was much like yours, a living area and kitchen big enough to house a family, and a bedroom off down the hall. Vegas confounded you.

You rested your room key on a desk near the door and watched George slide into a sharp blue jacket, bringing out the shine of his matching eyes. God, how did he get better looking by the minute?

He escorted you from his suite with a coy grin as if your outing was scandalous.

"Your interview should be published next week. My editor loves it." You informed, walking in step with George to the elevators.

"Of course they do, you're an incredible writer." George pulled a face as if this were a fact everyone knew. You pushed the elevator button with a roll of your eyes, unsure how to handle his outlandish flattery.

"All because of the answers you gave me. You're an incredible subject." You fawned, feeling brave enough to in one fleeting moment.

"Then we make the perfect pair," George smirked at you, keeping his eyes on yours as you passed into the elevator doors. Your legs must have figured out how to move on their own because you felt a bit stunned still by the look in George's eye after his soft comment.

The Cirque show was just across the street in another hotel. But because Vegas was insane, it took you a solid fifteen minutes to cross between traffic and a packed hotel lobby to get to the venue inside. By the time you and George settled into your seats, you felt all too unworthy of what was happening.

"Thanks again for bringing me along. I don't know how I got so lucky." You huffed a nervous laugh, trying not to openly swoon over how close you were to the boy. His leg was just barely far enough away from brushing against yours, and you were meant to sit there like it was totally cool for the next hour.

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one." George nodded, turning his head toward the stage as the lights went dim. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and during the first few minutes of the show, all you could truly focus on was how close George was to you. You felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, and reprimanded yourself for letting your feelings get this way.

But halfway through the show, something astounding happened. It was more thrilling than all the acrobatics and dance numbers happening on stage before you. George let his fingers bloom across your palm before they fit perfectly between yours. He sat holding your hand with his eyes fixed on the show, while you tried to keep from melting off the seat into a puddle.

The show ended and you walked out of the theater together, quietly flooding out into the street that was somehow busier than before.

"Thanks for that. I've only been to Vegas for work and have never had time to do the cheesy trashy fun bits."

"Me either." George looked to you and you could tell he was brewing some idea behind his sparkling eyes. Just then, his full name was called out from somewhere beyond your shared gaze. That's when you realized you were still holding his hand. You took a step back, untangling your fingers when you realized a group of drunk college students were excitedly asking for George's photo. You watched from a few steps away and swallowed the silly blooming crush you couldn't shake. What happens in Vegas stayed, right? Maybe you were both just blinded by the ancient ideal.

But when the fans disbanded, George didn't waste a beat slipping his hand back into your grasp.

"Let's go have some fun." He waggled his brow the same as he had hours ago, smirking all the while.

You proceeded to drink and laugh and gamble and dance into the early morning. Your evening became a blur of flashing neon lights and booming bass notes. Even in your alcohol-fueled daze, you fully felt George's fingers linger on your shoulder as he led you to and from the dance floor. His touch was warm and steady and the only thing that made sense in the night full of fast-paced fun you had no time to process.

On the walk back to the hotel, reality threatened to seep in as your feet burned in your heels. When you realized you left your room key in George's room, you felt no shame in taking your heels off and walking the hotel carpet with a little more ease. "I'm all for a movie night in but that was so much fun."

"Me too. Let's have a movie night next." George grinned, wasted as you were.

"Yes!" You fawned in exhausted excitment.

He led you into his room where your room key sat waiting where you'd left it. But the thought of walking one more step made you want to cry. So you asked if George minded if you sat for a moment; settling on the tiny loveseat giving your feet a break and talking yourself into the last bit of walking toward your room.

Yeah, big mistake. Before you knew it, you were totally passed out there and slept soundly on the sofa in a room that wasn't yours. When you woke up and noticed your shoe's near George's by the door you felt so embarrassed for having crashed like that, your weak hangover trumped by shame.

"Shit." You mutter, quietly moving to sneak toward the door. Your cellphone rested on the counter next to your room key. But as you reach for your things, you hear George shuffle into the room. He's dressed for a new day in a plain button-up and suit jacket.

"Oof, I'm really sorry for falling asleep." You cringed, grabbing your room key, a little afraid to look right in George's eye.

"It's alright really." He nodded. "It was so late, I don't know how you slept on that little thing. But  I didn't want to move you and make it weird." George kind of grimaced, hoping his comment wasn't as equally unwelcome as he seemed to think the action might have been. "I'm sorry you don't have to leave just yet."

"I have a flight, actually." You frowned suddenly, wishing you didn't have to leave this place you hated a day ago. But as you unlocked your phone to make sure you weren't too late, there we're a slew of emails from your flight agency, canceling your morning commute again.

"And now I don't have a flight."

George's phone seemed to buzz to life at the same moment, it was a new day after all. He glanced at his notifications frowning the same as you just had.

"Well I was going to invite you to breakfast but I've got another meeting added to my list of a ridiculous amount of things to do today." George sighed.

You knew the fun would have to come to an end sooner rather than later, he was a busy guy, an increasingly important, beautiful, busy guy. And you were stuck in Vegas all over again, without much to keep you occupied from how much you'd grown to love it here, just a little.

"Maybe we can have that movie night if I get back early enough." George smiled, leaning over to retrieve his shoes from the doormat. You couldn't believe George had remembered your off the cuff remark from early this morning, but somehow his comment felt more like a raincheck, than an invite. And whether you were hungover or paranoid, you couldn't tell.

So you took the cue to gather your things, opting to carry your shoes and stood in the doorway.

"You know where to find me, then." You offered, too afraid of agreeing right off and seeming too desperate to spend more time with him. You wished George good luck with all his movie star duties for the day and sulked on the long walk back to your shitty matching room.

___

Your day was spent ordering room service, exhausted by the idea of going back out and about in all the madness that made up Vegas. You scrolled through a measly list of flights to take, opting to stay another night and hoping the storm would pass soon. Soon, the sun was setting and after a long bubble bath, you slipped into your favorite pair of pj's, planning to listen to some podcasts to make the most of this evening. But just as you finished cleaning up, a knock came at your door. You hadn't ordered more room service, and there was a sign dangling from your door handle warning away the maids.

You were surprised to find George on the other side of your door, looking happy to see you. You honestly hadn't expected to see him again, you thought your luck had run its course. And you spent the whole day trying not to reminisce over the way you'd grown more comfortable near each other as the night went on.

You greeted him with a smile, comfortable enough in your pj's when you noticed he was wearing joggers now, too.

"You shed the suit?" You laughed.

"I figured if we're having a movie night I better dress for the occasion," George smirked. You hung your head to hide your blush and opened the door wider for him to come in all the way.

Okay, so maybe you had failed to plan this far ahead, but you hardly cared what happened next. You and George floated to the sofa in front of the television, and he reached for the remote.

“Have you memorized the tv guide yet?” George prodded as you sat next to him, leaving a sliver of space for good measure.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been far too busy running around the city this weekend.” You smiled, turning your gaze toward the television, too skittish to meet George’s baby blue eyes this close up.

He clicked his tongue as if to say “what a shame” all while flipping through channels. He landed on Hallmark, tossing the remote down ceremoniously. You couldn’t help but laugh as the movie seemed to just begin.

“Is that Betty White?” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome.” George boasted over getting lucky finding this film queued up perfectly for the two of you on this spontaneous night. You spent a little bit laughing over the cheesy musical flares and dramatics that made up every great Hallmark film, this one included. But as the film played on, you couldn’t help but notice the bits of genuinely good storytelling peeking through.

George kept you laughing throughout the film, but near the end, both of you got quiet and watched in silence until the credits rolled.

“Damn. That was actually just a little bit good.” George spoke up, a little quiet. That’s when you noticed how close he’d gotten to you. The sliver of space you’d left at the beginning of the movie was now barely noticeable.

“Yeah.” You laughed, amazed by more than just the film. “This whole weekend has been surprisingly wonderful.” You spoke softly, daring to glance right at George, who had already fixed his eyes on you.

You couldn't tell who made the first move but the next thing you know, you're kissing him. You and George took turns sharing feather-light pecks, each of you chasing each other kiss after one ended. George was definitely the first to place both strong hands around the back of your head and kiss you like he meant it. You were nearly too stunned to kiss him back, but once you started the floodgates broke off their hinges and there was no turning back. You climbed into his lap and latched on for all it was worth because surely this was a dream and you weren't ready to wake up at all.

You savored the steady build of his fingers trailing down your arms while your kisses grew deeper, mouths pushing against each others like you’d been doing this for ages. Your hands had a mind of their own, creeping softly under the hem of George’s soft tshirt to his hot skin below.

"Hey," George gently broke your kiss and cupped your face in both hands. You practically held your breath as his shimmering eyes searched yours. "You okay with this?" George seemed to genuinely wonder. His voice was dripping with lust and his body was warm underneath yours. It didn't take a detective to read George like a book, but he still had the self-control and gentle heart to make sure you were comfortable. It only made you want him more. But you were still far too shy to say so, no matter your actions. So you bit your lip and hummed in sweet agreeance, wrapping your hands around George’s neck.

You watched George’s face stretch into a smile before he ducked his head to the crook of your neck where he let out a contented sigh before grazing his teeth along your skin. You squealed with delight when he swiftly pinned you down on the sofa to playfully pepper your face with kisses like something less heated was taking place.

"You know, now would be the perfect time to carry me from the couch to your bed." You rose an encouraging brow, reminding George of just this morning when he was too afraid of disturbing your sleep on his sofa that matched this one. George let out a laugh as he peeled himself off the top of you and picked you up bridal style in his impressively buff arms.

"Right this way, madame." George teased, carrying you through his bedroom door.

You had thrown the covers into place the best you could the last time you woke up here. George rested you gently on the bed, much like you were sleeping and he was afraid of waking you up. But your heart was beating fast enough to win a race, somehow increasing when George rested beside you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re very pretty, you know?” George blinked, whispering to you.

“I’m glad you think so.” You spoke back even quieter, reaching out to touch his face. He was so handsome it nearly stopped your heart. George leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and steady. You hadn’t felt so content in ages, you could have laid there kissing George forever and been happy. But then his fingers trailed down your side to grab your hip, and you swore you saw stars. George pulled your leg over his and now you were pressed against one another, kisses growing deeper still.

“This alright?” He asked almost timidly, as his fingers crept below your nightshirt.

“Yeah,” You breathed as George moved his kisses down your neck, and his hand to your chest. Your fingers splayed through his hair as he reached around your back to find the clasp on your bralette

“It’s in the front.” You giggled, feeling George smile against your skin.

“Very cute.” He hummed in your ear before kissing your jaw and finding the button. He shoved your shirt most of the way off, and you had to move out from under him to remove it all the way. Before settling back against the pillows, you pulled off George’s shirt so you could revel in the warmth of his skin.

You settled in his lap, each knee on either side of his hips throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again, somehow still enjoying each brush of his tongue against yours like it was the first time. George signed into your mouth, each pleasant groan traveling straight down your spine. You rolled your hips against his, and George’s groans grew darker.

His fingers were lost in your hair and you found a steady pace to rock against him, drawing out longer whimpers from his lips with each new movement. Soon, his hand toyed with the drawstring of your shorts and he had to break away from your kiss to ask if he could take them off you could only muster an encourageable nod as your breath got caught in your throat. George laid you back, keeping those stunning blue eyes locked on yours all the while, only breaking away when he slid the last of your layers off. His fingers slid slowly between your legs as he laid next to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” George spoke, you could feel his breath ghost across your lips while he went on building up the tension in your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to fill with fire, a contradictory chill shooting through your system. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“George,” You sighed, opening your eyes to look at him again, “need you.”

You watched his eyes go dark as he slowly moved away from you, slipping his joggers off and slotting himself between your legs.

“You’re sure?” He asked one final time.

“Please.” You groaned, placing your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. With one last kiss on your lips, the Disney prince type, he pushed into you. If you thought the noises George had made before were beautiful, the ones he was making now could’ve moved you to tears. He found your hand and held it with one of his while the other slipped below your belly button.

Your heavy sighs and desperate moans synced up and you rode your highs on the edge of one another. George didn’t move off the top of you right away, instead, he stayed there with his face buried in your hair soaking up the quiet moment.

“That was wonderful, love.” George whispered in your ear as he fell to your side. You turned to face him, biting back a yawn.

“You’re wonderful.” You sleepily smiled. George pulled you against him then, and you rested your hand on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. The steady rhythm puts you to sleep in no time.

___

The next morning came late, and the Vegas sun shone brightly through the space between the curtains you forgot to close.

George was still by your side, but you’d drifted apart in the night. So upon noticing his eyes were open and glued on you, you felt no shame curling up next to his side.

"This has been the longest one night stand of my life." You sighed dramatically, comfily resting your head on his broad shoulder. George was quiet for a beat and you were a bit worried you’d upset him. But then he spoke up, with a gentle voice saturated in sleep.

"Wanna see how long we can last? I don’t think I wanna stop waking up to you."

How could you say no? You’d spent the whole weekend saying yes to George, and look where it had gotten you. So you agreed to stay one more night in Vegas, hoping what happened there would last a lifetime.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

[isimp4hawkz]

The Thief

(Hawks x Fem OC)

this is an old fic of mine, back when i first got into hawks (what have i become?) i never published it. please bear with my undeveloped writing :} and on behalf of my pre-obsessed self, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it.

-Edited slightly-

-Not 100% canon-

-Some aspects may seem far fetched-

Words: 2k

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Hawks’ POV

Recently, I've been cycling through a continuous loop of circumstances whereas every time that I'm about a millisecond away from saving someone in danger- the same, new, and hot pro hero swoops in right on the knick of time and steals my shot.

A spontaneous looker of a woman who went by the hero name Tundra. I hadn't ever heard of her before the little debut she had as of last week, as goes with most rookies. But this one was quick to gain her prominence in this city.

Do I honestly care all that much? Not really.

I think it's cool when a brand new hero who's fresh out of their side-kicking days steps up and climbs through the ranks, earning themselves a little popularity with the citizens as they answer their calls for help.

And to be frank, I've been taking it easy these days. More than I usually would. Out on the beaches during the day, and partying all throughout the night. Free time was scarce for me. I definitely won't put off having a good time while I still can.

Sure, if someone happens to be in danger on the way to the club, or down on the twisting roads that lead down to the shore, I swoop in and save the day.

The locals around here had basically memorized my name from years of service, but I was afraid that my name had become a blur in the mixture of countless other hero's.

Hell, maybe I'm just being dramatic. It's not like they could actually forget me of course. I'm the number 2 hero in all of Japan, how could you forget me?

You'd think that taking a short hiatus would gain me some sort of up in demand from the fans, but it was the exact opposite of that. I had fallen down to 4th in the approval ratings, instead of remaining proud in my little silver throne.

All because of her...and my own laziness.

And then, I decided that that was enough fun...to some extent...for now at least. It was time to head back into the city, and reclaim my throne—or, at least try to.

I settled onto the roof of my favorite building, it was the tallest one around here. If I wanted to catch a crime in progress, here would be the optimal place to start, where I had an eagle eye view of the city.

It’s funny, being up on this tower reminds me all too much of when I first met the vixen for myself.

An interesting encounter it was.

This is how it went;

I grunted when my wings had suddenly twitched with premonition midair. It was a natural reaction that occurred when something was about to happen, usually abruptly without much warning, a small shiver that pulsated through every single one of my feathers in the blink of an eye.

Instantaneously, two flashes of white sped past me in a blur of haste, followed by a gust of wind that physically made me wobble in my flight.

Ahead of me now flew someone. With a pair of wings as white as snow itself, feathers littered with black markings.

"Woah-" I uttered as I regained my balance, blinking in shock.

They were soon just a barely vivible spec in the distance.

'Huh...Well that's new. Can't remember the last time I saw another winged person besides...'

That person's name was long since lost in my memories. Last I heard, they'd transferred to another hero agency in distant city.

I'd only shrugged it off.

It was best to just continue my leisurely flight. I was in no rush, after all. I've waited this long to get back into the game, what's a few spare minutes of taking my time got on me?

The office building stood tall, barely piercing the sky. It's thin structure made it look like just the faintest breeze could make it topple.

A draft of wind blew viciously against me. It was much cooler up here, the air was naturally a bit thinner. Not that I wasn't used to it, but it had been well over a week since I'd gone here.

I exhaled peacefully as I took my perch on one of the building's edges, gazing down at the city. The sun was beginning to dip into the horizon, lighting the land with tranquil variants of orange and pink. People looked like mere ants from up here, scurrying aside toy vehicles.

The sunsets always looked so nice from here.

Most would see this as a time to be at home and prepare themselves for bed. But for a villain, it was happy hour. A time for iniquity to prosper in the shadows.

'Now then, let's see if we can find any-'

"Hey there." A voice had spoke from behind me, causing my feathers to stand on edge and bolt me into the air on instinct with one strong flap. I immediately whirled around, dumbfounded.

A woman stood before me. The pearly white pair of wings sprouting elegantly from her back and dotted with black markings taking me back to moments ago. They fluttered subtly as she studied me.

'That's strange...why didn't I sense her?'

She sported an inviting smile on her face, yet I could tell by the look in her eye that she was unsure of what to think of me. "Sorry for startling you. Come up here to wait for the stars?" She asks as she looks thoughtfully into the distant sky.

Her eyes shone a sharp grey that caught the sinking glow of the sun. The costume she wore wasn't exactly loose against her skin, ivory feathers imprinted into the fabric around her waist. Curves hugged in all the right places. Rather stunning.

'A hero?'

I must've been staring in a daze for too long, because she'd cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one leg to another in a little rocking motion.

I honestly didn't know what to think of her myself. I've never seen her before.

Mild curiosity somehow got the better of me in seconds. I'd've liked to get a bit of information off of her for my own self pleasure. A little flirtatious prodding would do the trick just fine.

"Now why would I waste my time lookin' up there when there's a much better view down here?"

She sucked in her cheek, never breaking eye contact with me as descended back down onto the platform so we were at the same level, hands dug deep in my pockets. Slapping on one of my signature lazy smirks, I continued, "So tell me, what's a beauty like yourself doin' all the way up here on this fine evening?"

My feathers had suddenly puffed up. It had startled me, but I managed to play it off with a small stretch.

That only happened whenever I wanted to give off a sense of superiority towards another individual, among other things.

She eyed my new display curiously. "Y'know, I could ask you the same—In fact I already did, actually—minus the little pick up line of course." She avoided the question, responding with a little quick-witted remark. It was hard to tell if she was hiding something, or if she's just being cautious.

"Well if you'd really like to know, I'm on duty. This is where I come to sort of survey everything."

She nodded, agreeing that that was a reasonable answer, and when I asked her about her own intentions, she responded with, "Oh, similar reasons. You're looking at a newbie trying to find her way in a foreign country, all while taking steps towards her dream of making something of herself.”

"New here huh? Excuse my manners, or lack of. Allow me to introduce myself. Wing Hero: Hawks." I gave her a curt bow, "Last time I checked, I'm still in the top 10 heroes in the country."

She gives me a strange look after taking my words into consideration. "Hawks..." The way my name rolled off her tongue as she sounded it aloud for herself made me swallow a lump. "In the top 10 you say? Never heard of ya—Granted, I've never really heard of anyone around these parts." She looked over into the horizon, rubbing her bicep. She seemed deliberately captivated by the colors settling onto the land.

'So she claims to be new to the country...'

I wouldn't doubt it too much. The honey color etched across her skin would definitely make others think twice about where she's from. There's also a small accent lingering at the back of her tone, I find it sexy.

Still, I'm rather curious about her, so I'll say something a bit more patronizing as an experiment, testing the waters or whatever. I bring my arms behind my head, looking over at the sunset. "Don't feel bad about being in the blind side. A newbie wouldn't know much about me in the first place unless they're some kind of huge fan, or even a stalker."

Then the look that burgeoned in her eye enthralled me. A corrosive flare. It spoke clear words. 'I don't like when people assume things about me.'

I almost bit my lip. 'That's hot.'

She sighed out nasally. "I can assure you, I'm neither one of those. Owl hero: Tundra." She barely spat that out as she crossed her arms, unintentionally making her breasts bulge in their bindings. "I've been on official duty in this city for over 72 hours now." She looked aside.

'Well that explains the wings.' Wouldn't a quirk like that be manifested from up North? But her skin and accent...She's a living cocktail.

And so I pressed on, chuckling. "I knew it. That cluelessness is bound to stem from lack of experience."

She raised an eyebrow as she met my eyes again. "Excuse me?"

The calmness in her voice was almost unsettling. It threw me for a loop. I genuinely can't think of any other female I've meet who could keep such a level-headed reaction up while being involuntarily insulted.

Those reactions were coaxing me to push her buttons. 'Let's see how far you'd go to remain in complete, professional control...'

"Don't take it personally, pigeon, it's just a fact." I was mostly betting on the bold assumption that she wouldn't take that nickname too kindly, and boy was I right.

"Pigeon?-" Her eyes flared along with a trembling fluff of her feathers. From the back of her throat came a short, rumbling sound resembling a hoot. Telling me I was crossing boundaries in a coherent avian language. Her pupils constricted, staring daggers straight through me.

'Hm. Definitely got bird of prey in her. Or maybe that's just her.'

I cooed mockingly in response, my wings unfurling widely to fan at her. Come at me.

The tension in the air weighed a ton as we stared each other down like natural enemies for a few lengthy seconds.

She seemed to have taken that as a challenge, but to my disappointment, she was quick to recompose herself, allowing her once erect feathers to relax against her back with a curt roll of her shoulders. Her eyes dilated back, though still a bit on the small side as she looked at me. I could feel it in every barb of my feathers, she was ready to tackle me a few moments ago.

It was sad to say that I found myself mildly disappointed. Mildly because to put it short, that reaction would've had my tail wagging if I were a dog. Well worth the effort it took to bring it to light.

She huffed out a breath. "You know what? I should probably be on my way. I'm wasting my time here. Good evening, Hawk man."

And with that, she calmly whirled around, unintentionally flashing me a great view of her juicy thighs and ass as she stormed off to the edge of the building, not forgetting to dramatically spread her wings.

Every step she took made those thighs shake. Holy fuck.

I had to will myself to not stop her. This urging curiosity to know more about this woman was certainly bubbling in its wake. Can't be the last time I'll see her. I don't think I'd allow it, actually.

She didn't look back as she jumped off the edge of the building, swooping down into the depths of the city.

I sighed, eyes promptly returning to study the calmness below. 'She's got a bit of a fire to her, doesn't she?'

"I'll stick a bit of a fire up your ass." A faint slur of mumbles drifted through the wind, making me blink confusedly as it reached my ears.

When I turned to look, there was no one.

[lunalattae]

Giggly Gamer {Namkook}

A/N: Hi everyone! It’s a pleasure to meet you and be apart of this community! This is my first tickle fic that I publish on any platform so it might not be the best, but I’m always improving. Please enjoy this fic and have a wonderful day/night everyone!! (ღ˘ω˘ღ)

Words: 1649

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Seoul is a busy city. Cars buzzing left and right, going to work or leaving it to go home. People chatting away as they walk the streets. There's always something to do.

There is someone else who is busy at this very moment: Jeon Jungkook. He was busy playing Overwatch as he hadn't been able to due to schedules recently. The company had given them one week of break and oh was Jungkook excited to just stay in his room and play. That's all he's been doing. The members have tried getting him out of his room and out of the dorm in general, but nothing has worked. Kim Namjoon has been the one trying to get him out the most, being the leader and taking this as his own mission, so he was trying to see what he could do to make him stop playing for, at least, a few minutes. That's when Namjoon came up with an idea that would work one hundred percent. He smirked as he walked up to the door, knocking if he could enter.

"Come in!" The younger boy said as Namjoon entered the room, seeing the youngest member so focused on his game.

"Jungkook-ah," he started off, "Can you please stop playing your game for a little bit?"

"Can't hyung. I'm in a very serious game and I can't mess this up."

Namjoon just sighed. He went towards the bed and sat next to Jungkook. "You really leave me no choice then."

"What do you mean by thAT HYUNG!?" The young boy shrieked and fell into instant giggles that he muffled into the bed, almost letting the controller go. Namjoon had sat on top of him, straddling his small waist with his thighs, softly squeezing his sides. He tried bringing his arms towards his body to form some type of help towards protecting himself, but he was still trying to finish his game.

"Let's place a bet. If you can last against me for your whole game time, I'll leave you alone. Bet?"

"Bet." No hesitation. Jungkook turned his head towards Namjoon with such a determined look in his eyes. The older boy grinned and stated, "Don't drop the controller," before lightly tickling the younger's sides again. Jungkook turned back to his game and tried his very best to not give in to the sensations. He pressed the buttons on his controller with a bit more pressure as ten fingers pressed into his ribs. He brought his arms closer to him as he quickly took out multiple players, gaining momentum and making it easier for him to get the game through.

A few minutes passed by and let me tell you, Jungkook was not a quitter. He died a few times, mostly due to the fact that he'd slip and mess up because someone kept on sliding their fingers into his armpits and digging into his hips every few seconds.

You're almost done Jungkook. You can do this.

Self motivation was basically key at this point. Jungkook was so giggly as well that he had already lost a bit of focus on the game. He kept on squealing every time Namjoon would try to make his way under his shirt to tickle his belly button.

"You don't want me to press the giggle button? You love it when I press it!"

Jungkook blushed so hard at that. He couldn't give in. As Namjoon finally got his way under Jungkook's shirt, the younger fell apart. He shrieked as he fell into squeaky hiccups and laughter. He shut his eyes for a few seconds and quickly opened them, trying to keep them open as he was nearing the end.

"Wow~ I've never seen such a giggly gamer before! Maybe I should tell the others that we have an incredibly giggly gamer in our house. Should I tell them?"

"NohohoHOHO HYUNG PLEASE!!"

Jungkook broke down even further, as if that was even possible, dropping the controller as he shot the final shot and brought victory to his team. "That's our golden maknae," Namjoon stated as he turned Jungkook around so he would be on his back. The maknae shined a bright smile, showcasing his adorable bunny teeth, as he giggled loudly. Namjoon took the chance to lift his shirt up, making Jungkook try to sit up while reaching to grab Namjoon's wrists as he shouted, "I won! Hyung, no, I wON- oh my god yoU PROMIHIHISED!!"

"You did, but I was referring to when the screen would go back to the main screen. You're still at the winning screen. It seems that you wanted this to happen, didn't you?"

Jungkook shut his eyes when he felt his hyung's finger dip into his bellybutton, throwing his head back and failing to move Namjoon's hand away from the so called "giggle button" as he shut his eyes and let his laughter get the best of him. The evil hands that belonged to the leader of the group were showing no mercy against the youngest as he would tickle the toned tummy and ribs while dipping into the bellybutton that accompanied the cute abdomen, besides the abs that were very represented on the younger's body. It didn't matter because it was all very sensitive.

"Hyung! Hyuhuhung AH I CAN'T TAKE IT!! PLEHEHEASE STOP!!" Jungkook wasn't one to really give up, but when it came to Namjoon's ruthless tickles, he knew that there was no chance with it. He knew that this wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"You say stop but we both know that you love it when I tickle the giggle button. You can't deny it. Look, I'll prove it. I press my finger on the button," Namjoon said as he then went to tickle Jungkook's belly button again. He proved himself well because as the action was done, Jungkook let out hiccupy giggles and thrashed around so much that he turned himself on his stomach again. The only problem was that Namjoon's finger followed him and so did the person it was attached to, "and you start giggling like crazy! Now, you can't possibly think that you could get out so easily. You're the Golden Maknae and that makes your laugh golden as well, so let me hear it for a bit longer."

Namjoon laid himself on top of Jungkook and went wild on the poor boy's ticklish body. Keeping one finger tickling the maknae's bellybutton, he used his other hand to tickle anywhere he could reach, driving Jungkook up the wall. A few minutes of merciless tickling passed until Namjoon was close to done. "One more thing," Jungkook had been turned on his back once again throughout his squirming and thrashing and was now looking at the leader with such nervousness. He shook his head and begged, actual pleas coming out of his mouth, as he was a little scared of what would come next.

"It'll be quick. I promise. Please? I'll take you out for ice cream, anything you want."

Jungkook couldn't believe himself. Was he really about to give in for ice cream? Why yes, yes he was. Jungkook panted as he nodded up at Namjoon, the other beaming and smiling so cutely that Jungkook couldn't help but smile back. Oh was that a mistake. The second he did that, Namjoon blew a raspberry right on the giggle button and Jungkook was no longer Jungkook as he now became a puddle of giggles and laughter. He was taken over by the ongoing sensations that the raspberries were giving him as they were caused by the warm lips of his hyung.

"StOHOHOhop Nahahamjoon hyUhuHUNG! I CAN'T ANYMORE I SWEHEHEAAR!!" Jungkook lost it. The cute laughter journeyed out the room and echoed throughout the boys' dorm, letting the other boys that were in their rooms hear the lovable laugh that was being forced out of their maknae's throat. Namjoon let the adorable laughter that was joined with hiccups, light cackles, and even a snort continue for a short while longer before slowing to a stop.

“You did good baby, I love you.” Namjoon planted a kiss on Jungkook’s stomach and then his forehead. Jungkook blushed at the sudden affectionate words and actions from the leader. Sure, affection is a really big part that is shown between the seven boys, but let’s just say that he wasn’t expecting that right after being pummeled into tickle torture and especially from the leader- his first boy crush.

“You won the bet, as I knew you would, so I’m sorry for going a bit far and I’ll take you out for ice cream right now,” he was rubbing Jungkook’s sides in order to take away some of the tingling sensations he knew the boy still had within him, smiling as Jungkook flinched and smiled as residual giggles flowed out of him. He patted the stomach beneath him and got off of the poor boy he just tickled to near silent laughter, getting off the bed as Jungkook finally caught his breath and sat up, throwing himself off the bed. He quickly grabbed his Stussy black, short-sleeved hoodie that was closeby and ran up where Namjoon was outside in the hallway.

“Let’s go. I’m not passing up on ice cream.”

Namjoon chuckled as Jungkook instantly held his hand, intertwining their fingers, and smiled at him. The older knew that part of the bet was that he would leave the younger alone, but he’ll keep it if that’s what Jungkook wants when they return from getting ice cream. It could be that the younger forgot, but he’ll just have to see once they get back home. Namjoon just nodded as he ruffled Jungkook’s hair a bit and smiled back at him as he led him outside the household to their destination that held a sweet delicacy that actually didn’t compare to the sweet delicacy that is Jeon Jungkook.

[bookloversreviewer]

VAUGHN (Love Under the Lights #2) by Ella Fox & Rochelle Paige

Release Date: September 16th

AVAILABLE NOW!!

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2ZVewjt

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/34FmyMZ

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2LON9Pc

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2lFoLWC

Add to Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47516832-vaughn

Blurb:

Gorgeous, charming, and funny, Vaughn Corbett rose far above his less than optimal beginning to become a household name. Known for being a dynamic and unflappable interviewer, no one was more surprised than he when he got tongue-tied over a gorgeous blonde in the middle of a live interview.

Allie Henderson was so focused on her career that she rarely thought about men or dating. That all changed when she came across a silver-tongued devil on the red carpet. The moment his deep blue eyes met hers, something inside her shifted.

Allie was there to support her best friend. Vaughn was just doing his job. Neither of them expected the instant, magnetic attraction that couldn’t be denied.

Would a surprise that neither of them planned on end things before they really began?

Excerpt:

Whether it had been her intention or not, Allie had put me further under her spell in the darkened car on the way home. As soon as we'd pulled out of the parking lot, she'd opened the bag of red velvet popcorn and started to eat it. Her sounds of pleasure were enough to drive me wild, but when she started feeding me the popcorn one piece at a time, I had to force myself not to pull over and fuck her on the side of the road. The little minx knew exactly what she was doing, too.

Each time she fed me a piece, she'd trace my lower lip with her thumb, run her fingers down my neck, or tickle my jawline with her fingers. Those little touches were the equivalent of adding an accelerant to something that was already ablaze. All I could think about was her—touching, tasting, fucking, and claiming her in every way I could.

By the time we got home, my cock was so goddamn hard; I could hardly think.

As soon as the car was securely inside the garage, I threw it into park, pressed the button for the garage door to go down, threw off my seat belt, unclicked Allie's, and hauled her into my arms. I kissed her like the desperate man I was, pouring everything I was feeling into it so that she'd know just how much I needed her. Allie moaned as she shifted in her seat so she could wrap her arms around my shoulders, holding on as I plundered her mouth, the flavor from the red velvet popcorn making her taste sweeter than ever. Only when she set her hand on my cock through my jeans did I tear my mouth away. Breath coming in gusts, I cupped her faced in my hands.

"You're playing with fire," I rasped.

She bit her lower lip as she rubbed at me through my jeans. "I'm ready to feel the burn."

I kissed her once more, quick and hard before I forced myself to stop. Getting out of the car, I raced around to the passenger side and opened her door. As soon as she was out, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her again. We kissed our way from the garage into the mudroom. The door hadn't closed behind us before I lifted her off the ground.

Taking my lead, she wrapped her legs around my waist and buried her face in my neck. The feel of her lips and her soft breath against my skin made me crazy. I held her waist to keep her steady as I raced through the house and up the stairs to my bedroom.

When I crested the top of the stairs, she lifted her head and kissed me again. I was so wrapped up in her, so desperate to maintain our connection, that I made it to my bedroom by memory alone. I only realized that we'd arrived when we bumped into one of the double doors. I took my right hand from her waist and used it to fumble blindly for the door handle. Eventually, I got lucky and found it.

I didn't stop kissing her as we stumbled through the doors. I kept right on going as I made a beeline for my bed. Only when we got there did I pull away. We were both breathing like we'd run a marathon as I set her down on the edge of the bed.

I was hoping to get myself under control so that I'd show some finesse, but the chance of that happening went out the window when she gripped the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head. The sight of the peach-colored lace bra that covered her tits but not enough that I couldn't see her puckered nipples was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

A tortured sound emanated from my throat as I stepped between her legs, set my hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her back. Her green eyes were wild as I got closer, and I missed being able to see them as I leaned in and kissed the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

I loved the sounds she made as I kissed, licked, and nibbled on her neck. Lifting my head, I captured her lips with mine again. She threaded her fingers into my hair as she met my passion with her own. The desperation for her was so sharp that I had to force myself not to strip her bare, unzip my jeans, pull my cock out and fuck her until neither of us had an ounce of energy left. I'd never felt anything like it in my life.

I silently scolded myself to find some fucking control. Being jackhammered in the mattress by a desperate idiot wasn't even hot in porn.

About Ella Fox:

USA Today Bestselling Author Ella Fox has learned a bunch of stuff along the way but the most important of all those things is that anything is possible when you try. In 2012 she took a big leap of faith and published her first book, Broken Hart. Since then she’s written fifteen more full-length books and several novellas– and every one is a reminder that you can live your dream as long as you work for it.

Ella’s favorite things are music, movies, traveling, The Foo Fighters and, of course, reading. This isn’t a surprise considering the fact that her mom is USA Today Bestselling Author Suzanne Halliday.

Connect w/ Ella

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About Rochelle Paige:

I absolutely adore reading—always have and always will. When I was growing up, my friends used to tease me when I would trail after them, trying to read and walk at the same time. If I have downtime, odds are you will find me reading or writing.

I am the mother of two wonderful sons who have inspired me to chase my dream of being an author. I want them to learn from me that you can live your dream as long as you are willing to work for it.

When I told my mom that my new year's resolution was to self-publish a book in 2013, she pretty much told me, "About time!" 

Connect w/ Rochelle:

Website: http://www.rochellepaige.com/

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