#it's been ten minutes and my heart is still hammering

[gay-ppl-real]

Ain't no way this is the way I found out there's a new update LMAO

You can just watch the corrupted video on -> away from prying eyes.net (without the spaces of course)

Oh fr? Thank you!!

Guys you heard em..

[seresinhangmanjake]

Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Your and Benny’s little girl gets injured playing on a bike and must go to the hospital. Benny doesn’t handle it well.

Warnings/Notes: mention of broken bones, cursing, angry but sweet dad Benny, protectiveness, typos, and I think that’s it.

Part of the Come Back Knockin’ universe. Takes place after Come Back Together and Together and More, but you don't have to read these beforehand to understand this fic.

Words: 1250

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny’s going to lose his damn mind—that’s all you can think as you stand beside Wahoo in the hospital lobby, the both of you keeping sharp eyes out the wall-length windows to spot your husband. Facing him will be no easy feat and you need all the time you can get to prepare yourselves before he stomps through those doors. 

“Wahoo, I don't know about this. You really better go back to the meeting,” you encourage him, as you’ve done at least ten times in the last fifteen minutes. 

“Nah, I gotta stay and apologize to ‘im,” he replies. “But you shouldn’t have to wait here with me. You should go be with your girl.”

Your eyes scan the visible area from the benches in the flowered courtyard to the emergency sign attached to the building’s exterior brick before darting to the looped driveway reserved for ambulances. He’s nowhere in sight. But he will be soon enough. You called him—you peek at your watch—exactly twelve minutes and forty-three seconds ago. The shop is nineteen minutes away from the hospital and there’s no way he’s not speeding. 

“If I go, who is going to stop Benny from killing you?” you say, your heart hammering in your chest. 

You love your husband, but the man has a temper that can flare as easily as a swift strike of a match. He has started many short-lived fights, always requiring some patching up before the excitement finally settles down, but if Benny is given time to simmer, he can explode with an unrivaled rage.

Wahoo chuckles awkwardly, turning his head to look at you. 

“You got a point there, sweetheart,” he says. Then he goes silent amongst the background chattering of anxious families and ringing phone lines at the front desk.

You glance his way just in time to see the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “You know…kill you.”

“Not sure you’re gonna be able to stop ‘im. You and the kid are the most important things in his world, and one of yous got hurt on my watch.”

A wince pinches your face at the memory and you’re so busy worrying about how the events of the next few minutes are going to unfold that you miss Benny’s entrance entirely. 

“What the fuck!” Benny shouts. It echoes throughout the room, making every head swivel, every conversation cease. 

As he storms closer, you step between him and Wahoo, your hands planting firmly on his chest. Murder is in his glare and though he could easily barrel through the barrier in his path, that would involve shoving you aside, and regardless of the circumstances, he would never do that.

Benny’s arm raises over your shoulder, finger pointed like a dagger toward his friend—well, enemy, at the moment. “What the hell you doin’ lettin’ my four-year-old on your fuckin’ bike!”

He tries to side-step you but you’re watching his feet, catching his movements before he can finish making them. 

“I’m real sorry, Benny,” Wahoo says meekly.

“Sorry? You’re sorry!” His tone is darker, fists clenching, anger overflowing and spilling onto the tiled floor. Without glancing at you, in a much softer—but still threatening—voice, he says, “Baby, move.”

You look up at him. Your hands slide from his chest to cup his cheeks in a failed effort to trap his attention. “Benny, it was an accident, ok? Alright? She was just playing pretend like she does with you and she wiggled out of his grasp and landed wrong,” you tell him. 

“I don't fuckin’ care if it was an accident.”

He’s so revved up, so locked in on his target, that your stomach twists for Wahoo. He’s been such a kind man and he’s so good with your daughter that he’s told you once or twice he wishes he could have one of his own someday.

When Lucy fell, it took all of two seconds for his visibly consuming guilt to settle in. He’d immediately picked her up, buckled her into your car, and followed you straight to the hospital where he has stressed over her injured state from the moment of arrival. He doesn’t deserve the abuse from Benny as if he was negligent. Benny, a man who regularly demonstrates little of his own self-preservation skills, but happens to go feral when his child so much as skins her knee. 

“Move.”

“Benny, please,” you say. “Honey, look at me.”

If you can get his eyes on you then he’ll be stuck to you like glue. He’ll calm down. The huffing and puffing of his chest will slow. 

And to your relief, when you stand up on your toes to invade his line of sight that is exactly what happens. The vengeance drains out of his face, replaced by a gentleness that only ever reveals itself to you and your shared child. 

“She’s fine,” you say. “She cried until the doctor gave her a sucker and now I’m not sure she even cares about her arm.”

Benny’s mouth dips into a frown. His brow pinches, then his teeth bite down hard on his bottom lip. “She got hurt,” he says, and your heart breaks for him.

You sigh. “I know.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if you were. It happened in a split-second,” you tell him. “You’re here now; that’s what matters. And wouldn’t you rather see her than argue?”

Benny’s exhale is a sharp release of air that subdues the remnants of his temper. “Where is she?”

You point to the double doors off to the side of the lobby. “Through there,” you say.

Benny swallows, nods, and takes your hand. But when he looks up, the glare resurfaces. “You're not gettin’ off,” he tells Wahoo. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As Benny pulls you along in the direction of your daughter, you quickly whisper to your friend, “I'll take care of it, but you ought to go.”

Wahoo’s smile is weak, never reaching his eyes, and his hands slip into his jeans pockets before he turns on his heel for the exit.

---

“Daddy!”

Lucy hops up from the floor where a few toys are scattered about from playing with the nurse in your absence. 

Benny plasters on a smile that barely conceals his agitation as he scoops her up in his arms. “You doin’ alright, nugget?”

“Mhmm,” Lucy hums, chipper as ever. “I finished my sucker. It tasted like grape.” She lifts her arm and Benny’s head jerks back to avoid a collision with his nose. “You like my cast?” 

You watch Benny struggle to come up with a positive reply, considering that within said cast is his little baby’s broken arm. “Y-Yea, Lu. It’s…It’s real great.”

“It’s blue!”

“I see that.”

The nurse chuckles as she rises from the floor and dusts invisible specks of dirt from her pristinely white uniform. “You’ve got yourself a lovely little girl,” she praises, tilting her head affectionately as he takes in the image of Lucy tucking her head into the crook of Benny’s neck. “The doctor says we’ll need to see you back here in six weeks.”

“Thank you.”   

She starts toward the door but pauses as she passes your daughter. “Goodbye, miss Lucy,” she says, her smile wide. 

“Bye, miss nurse!” With her good hand, Lucy gives an animated wave that the nurse returns as she closes the door behind her. 

Benny releases the sigh you’re pretty sure he’s been holding in since you called him. He cups the side of Lucy's head as if he could cradle her closer than she already is.

“You're not gonna be sittin’ up on any bikes for a real long while,” he says.

Lucy’s head shoots up, eyes widening in panic. “Nooo!” she whines. “You can't stop me!” 

“You wanna bet?”

“Yes!” she snaps back. “I…I'll do it when you aren't lookin'!”

Benny scoffs. "I'm not lettin' you out of my sight."

"I'll be real sneaky!"

The air of rebelliousness is all too familiar and it makes you snicker. Because despite the exhaustion of the day, despite the tears and the shouting and the drama that you hope will not reemerge later, all you can think as the bantering unfolds before you is that that little girl is definitely Benny Cross’s daughter.

---

Thanks for reading :)

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[euphor1a]

Just the tip

* part of “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.

ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc

ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.

ꨄ summary: he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin?

ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~9.5K  

ꨄ warnings/tags: fluff (called me single in 100 languages typa way), plentiful pda, they’re so in love that it repulses me /j, profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones (a bit of switch action as well), semi-public sex, breast play, biting/marking, size kink, praising, pet names, fingering, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, “just the tip”, unprotected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie — this is a work of fiction and it doesn’t represent mingyu in any way.    

ꨄ a/n: this series is slowly starting to look like my villain origin story 😔... like wdym i can’t have kim mingyu 💔💔? *sigh* anyway, it’s been a while, enjoy <3!

His footsteps are light despite him being in a hurry. It’s almost as if he could start flying at any moment. Mingyu wishes that was an option. The sunlight filtering through his living room windows barely makes it to the kitchen, where he’s struggling miserably. 

Large, shaky hands grip onto the petite looking sliders he has just finished making, carefully placing them inside the various colorful lunch boxes splayed out on the kitchen island. Mingyu is heaving ever so slightly, a bit of perspiration starting to collect on his forehead. He’s nervous. And it’s silly, he knows. But he can’t help his rushing heart that is hammering against his chest. 

It’s been over ten minutes since you texted him that you’re on your way to the park you two are going to meet up for your date. And he’s still here, in his pj’s, trying to finish packing the picnic basket as quickly as possible without absolutely destroying it. Even though Mingyu woke up criminally early with the intentions to cook everything himself, he somehow managed to fall behind because of the stupid cupcake batter that refused to make anything edible out of itself. 

With what feels like the umpteenth sigh of the day, he manages to complete arranging the boxes inside the basket. However, he almost slips while hurrying to reach his bedroom. A string of curses leave Mingyu’s pouty lips, the muscles in his arms flexing to support his whole body against the wall. He still needs to get ready, leave his house, and buy some sort of dessert from the local bakery before finally meeting you.

Thanking himself for picking up and ironing the outfit yesterday night, he dresses up in a flash. Mingyu ponders if he should do something with his hair, but ends up keeping it the way it currently is. Sure, it is kind of messy, but it also gives him that ‘casually sexy’ look. A satisfied smirk and the bare minimum skincare along with sunscreen later, he regards himself in the mirror for one last time. Looking more than good to go.

That state of peace only lasts for a moment though. Not wanting to be even more late than he already is, Mingyu grabs his phone, wallet, keys and the basket. After another minute of scrambling, he puts on a random pair of loafers and heads out. Even though you haven’t contacted him since earlier, he feels anxious. Who knows for how long you’ve been waiting all alone? 

His long legs help him blaze past the bustling neighborhood, hands clutching on the basket’s handle in an attempt to stop it from swaying unsteadily. Mingyu is so wrapped up in his thoughts of you that he actually walks past the bakery — before realizing and taking a 180° turn. The elderly owner smiles at him brightly as he enters the cozy shop, somehow catching up on what exactly is happening with the usually calm and collected guy he has seen for so long. “Aah, Mingyu! Welcome, my boy! Long time no see, eh? What brought you here all of a sudden? Mayhaps a special day with a special someone?” 

“Hi, Mr. Owen! Hah, really though… I don’t remember the last time I found myself having a little dessert. Glad to be back here! Although, I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear the last part…” Mingyu trails off, eyes taking in the pretty pastries and all sorts of baked goodness displayed in front of him. His heart jumps a little when he thinks about how your face contorts in pure joy whenever you ravish the sugar rush from something sweet. “Uh anyway! Please pack me a dozen of these pastel colored macarons! And maybe four of those glazed donuts? Oh my god… are those heart shaped pies?? Looks so cute! Please pack two of them too!” 

The man nearing his late 60s can’t help but laugh at Mingyu’s excited rambling as he points at the things he wants. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get to everything one by one.” He folds up some new boxes before putting the delicate confectioneries into them. “You really don’t have to say anything though, the answers are written all over your face.” 

Mingyu, who was busy admiring the heart shaped pies, looks up, confused. “Huh?” 

“The question I asked earlier. Which you pretended to not hear. The answer to it is written all over your face.” Owen shakes his head with a smile on his face. 

“Oh–” Mingyu looks down at his feet. Is he really that obvious? But even if he is, should he care about it? Feeling happy and elevated to meet his girlfriend doesn’t always need to be embarrassing. 

“Don’t mind my little teasing now, will you? Do you want me to put these in your basket?” He’s brought back to reality by Owen’s voice. Mingyu nods and brings the picnic basket up on the counter. 

While the old man adds up the prices to write a bill after carefully putting all the desserts in the almost full basket, Mingyu finds himself zoning out. Would you like all the things he’s bringing? What if you have some secret allergy he doesn’t know yet, and you’re unable to eat? A pout forms on his lips. But then he remembers — he’s been pretty late by now, and you’re waiting for him in a place you’re not familiar with at all.

He hurriedly pays and grabs his basket, apologizing to Owen for not being able to hang around longer and leaving immediately. Once he’s outside again, he quickly takes his phone and calls your number. Mingyu almost feels jittery, scenarios going through his head that aren’t exactly nice. Thankfully for him, you pick up after a few rings, greeting him cheerily.

“Mingyu! Hello baby! I’m here already, are you on your way?”  

That alone is enough for the six feet tall, grown ass man to wish he could disintegrate into thin air right now. Not in a negative way, though. He just finds it extremely devastating that you called him “baby” like that. But Mingyu is quick to recover from that feeling. “Hi angel, I’m on my way!! I’m sorry you have to wait there all alone… I’m like a three minute walk away from the park. Do you, maybe, wanna keep talking over the phone?”

“Aw sure! And don’t worry about it please, I’m just standing beneath a large tree and enjoying the scenery! It’s so pretty here!” 

Three minutes feel like thirty seconds with you, as he already gets through the park’s elegant looking entrance. His eyes immediately start searching for you. “Baby, I just got through the main gate! Where are you?” 

“Oh! That was quick, Gyu; should I come over to the entrance?” 

“Nono princess! Stay where you are, I’ll be there. Just give me some directions!” Mingyu insists. To his surprise, you don’t give up for your cause.

“Why?” Your voice is nearly a whine, “It’ll be way easier if I just go where you are!” 

With his heart doubling in his chest from fondness, he sighs, “Fine… I guess. Come over quickly then, will you?” 

“Yep yep, already on my way! I can’t wait to see you!” You giggle excitedly, keeping your eyes on the path as you wander back towards the main gate. Mingyu waits by the side of a decorative statue for you. His gaze is searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he’s grown to adore endlessly. 

It’s only a matter of seconds for you to spot each-other, two pairs of eyes lighting up with joy. You run to him giddily, colliding into his firm chest that you’ve fallen asleep on several times now. His large arms wrap around your small frame to pull you closer, as if on instinct.

You inhale his scent deeply, a mix of his cologne and the smell of fresh laundry from his black polo shirt. However, you do avoid getting your face smushed up against him— for the sake of your skincare and makeup. Both of you stay locked in each other’s embrace for a while, before eventually pulling away.

“You look so unbelievably pretty, my love.” Mingyu leans down to place a kiss on your head. “And smelling like a dream, as well.” Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with the belt loops of his beige trouser.

Only now, you’ve become aware of exactly how fucking good he looks today. This black polo fits him like a glove, paired with trousers that accentuate his long legs. Oh and, he also has a pair of eyeglasses that adorns his handsome face. The whole imagery is pretty devastating to your brain as it fails to process everything your eyes have registered. Why is it even legal to look like this?

You suddenly feel majorly weak in the knees, but Mingyu supports you with his unoccupied hand, flashing you a cocky grin. “What happened, baby?” He teases, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. You hold onto his arms and regain composure, clearing your throat from embarrassment. 

“Uhm, you look… really really great as well.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles upon your compliment, the hand around your waist pressing you into him. Your heart flutters in your chest from the close exposure. Mingyu seems a bit more touchy-touchy than usual, considering that you guys are in public.

“All for you, my angel,” your boyfriend mutters right against your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As if that wasn’t satisfactory enough, he lets his lips brush over the shell of your ear, catching you even more off-guard. What the hell is in the air today? 

“Uhm– let’s go find a spot for our date? Or are we gonna just stand here?” You look up at Mingyu questioningly, doe eyes causing his heart to skip a beat. He sighs, just slightly annoyed with how his mind goes to unspeakable places with just that.

“Of course, baby, let’s find a place to sit down.” He smiles brightly, watching you wrap your smaller arm around his. To his dismay, his hungry eyes once again take in how pretty and irresistible you look in this flowy, white sundress. 

The soft material caresses your thighs with each stride; Mingyu wishes it was his hand instead. It’s absurd, but the way this dress has pretty flowers and hearts printed across it makes him wanna mark you up. The poofy sleeves, the sweetheart neckline that shows just enough to drive him crazy — God. Even the way your hair is loosely braided with stray locks tucked behind your ear? He genuinely wants to cancel all plans and take you to his home and do you all day.

It’s crazy, really. How can you just look like that and expect anyone to act like a normal functioning human? Mingyu shakes his head a little and inhales shakily. You deserve to get pampered on a picnic date as much as you deserve to get mind-blowing orgasms. 

“You’re not paying attention to me at all…” The sound of your dejected voice breaks him out of his reverie. Shit.

“No, no! Baby, please, I’m sorry… Uh, to be painfully honest with you, I’m distracted because you look so exceptionally pretty, like an angel who’s descended on Earth. But still, I’m really sorry for not listening to what you have to say. I promise I’ll focus from now on!!” He laces your fingers together and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’re such a flatterer, Kim Mingyu.” You try to hide your smile, sounding a bit angry to tease him. Your beloved boyfriend hates it when you call him by his full birth name; and this time is no different. However, to your surprise, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually does, Mingyu leads you to the side of the path. 

“Wha—” you start, but close your mouth out of shock when he covers your frame entirely and leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips. Your hands press against his toned stomach for support, your head emptying entirely. His lips are so soft against yours, the heat radiating from his body warming you up a bit too much. 

You pull away first, your whole face heated from his sudden action. As you take deep breaths to compensate for the air you lost during the kiss, Mingyu finally speaks up. “Don’t be mad at me today, my love. Please. I’m gonna be so, so sad. I promise I’ll do better but god, please don’t be upset.” His lips have formed his signature pout, your heart melting at the spot. 

You let your thumb caress over his pout, tip-toeing to peck him. Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile, his unoccupied hand curling around your waist. “You’re so cute, how can I be mad at you?” You giggle, absolutely adored by this soft giant begging you to not be upset. 

“If I am cute, then what are you, princess?” Mingyu grins, nuzzling your hand before you move it away. You shake your head, not willing to debate on who’s the cutest. 

“Anyway, we should really find a place to sit down and get our picnic started. I was just saying that there aren’t a lot of people in the park right now, but we should still find a place with enough privacy.” 

The way Mingyu nods is like a puppy tilting its head. God, the way you’d commit arson for this guy. With a soft sigh, you continue. “And, I also have my own basket, which I left at an empty space I found by where I was standing. Let’s go there first, then we can move further into the park where not a lot of people will potentially find or bother us.” 

It takes you guys a few minutes to go and fetch your own basket, and probably another ten to fifteen minutes to find a spot for your picnic date. Mingyu is extremely happy with the grassy little patch surrounded by tall bushes and large trees, a big smile on his face as he takes out the picnic blanket he brought along. He can’t wait to show you all the food he made. 

Once he’s done setting the blanket, you take off your pastel pink mary janes and settle down on the blanket with your picnic basket nearby. Mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “You’re taking off your shoes?” The question makes you narrow your eyes. 

“And why wouldn’t I be taking off my shoes? To make this brand new blanket dirty?” His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, before he nods. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. “You can keep your shoes on, if you want. There’s no need to stink up this place.”

“HEY! I’m not that unhygienic, that last time I just forgot about laundry for some reason. I already told you… And I’m not wearing any socks today…” Mingyu trails off, discarding his loafers with a ‘hmph’. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Stop sulking, Gyu.” You watch him as he sits down as well, adjusting his trousers a bit to be more comfortable in this position. He overlooks you for now, reaching for his basket and carefully taking out the desserts first. Then, he produces a bunch of different tupperwares out of it, placing all the food in the center of the mat, between you two. 

You reach for your own basket as well, cautiously eyeing your boyfriend who seems to be extremely invested in unpacking all the food. The only things you’ve brought along today for the picnic date are flowers, a flower vase, a small canvas and some tubes of watercolor, besides your necessary belongings. Although it’s kinda embarrassing, it can’t be helped because Mingyu insisted on bringing everything for the date. 

“Gyu,” you murmur, hands anxiously gathering the loosely made bouquet inside your basket. It’s oddly nerve-wracking. You’ve never really received or given flowers in a relationship before. 

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up, eyes furrowed as he rummages through his basket. With a sharp inhale, you slowly retrieve the flowers, extending them towards him. Mingyu immediately turns to look at your shaky hands holding a bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs, his face heating up as he realizes what’s going on.

“____, my baby,” he coos, bringing his hands to wrap around your trembling ones. “It looks so pretty, did you bring them for me?” You avoid eye-contact, but nod to give him confirmation. The wave of weird emotions that hits Mingyu is hard for him to explain. Usually, he’s been the one giving flowers to his partners in relationships. But, being on the receiving end for the first time, he feels as if he’s on top of the world. 

“C’mere.” He leans in to grab your waist, bringing you closer to him, before hoisting you up a little to place you on his lap. Mingyu fixes your dress, then  pulls you closer to rest against his chest. His left hand remains wrapped up around your midsection. “Thank you so much, love. I’m over the moon that you got me flowers. I’m so lucky to be dating you, angel.” He presses a kiss on your cheek, your heart almost bursting inside your chest. 

“Do you know Victorian floriography?” you look at him, slightly embarrassed. When he shakes his head as ‘no’, you go on, “It’s the language of flowers. Back then, gifted flowers used to have hidden meanings… But it’s kinda coming back in trend, I guess.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu ponders, “Then, does this bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs have a secret message as well?” You nod, looking up at him with a shy smile. 

“Find it out later, okay? For now, please explain what you’ve brought along in so many boxes…?” Trying to change the topic, you take away the flowers to put them inside the vase you brought along, settling it in an empty space between all the packed boxes of desserts.

He chuckles nervously, suddenly remembering all the food he brought. “Uh… right. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with it, but I promise, sixty percent of everything you see is made by me, with so much love.” 

“Whoa!” you exclaim. “That’s a lot of things you made with your own hands… I’m honored.” Mingyu presses a kiss on the side of your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you stop yourself from making any noises. It’s… weird that he’s being so intimate while you are pretty much in public. But god, does it do things to you… 

“You haven’t tasted anything yet, though. Heck, let me show you what’s inside first.” He reaches for the closest tupperware, and to your surprise, you see various, colorful fruits, all cut up in small heart shapes and laid out in rows. 

“Omg, so cute!!” you squeal, clapping your hands together in excitement. Mingyu beams at you, clearly happy with your reaction. 

“Hehe, there’s a lot more to see!” He stretches to grab two more boxes, each revealing tteok-bokki, your mouth inevitably watering from the sight. You’ve had these delicious rice cakes made by him a few times prior, and you loved it to bits. 

He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Should I take out the chopsticks?” Mingyu closes the box with fruits in it, moving it to the side. “Let’s go from spicy to sweet, hm? I also made tiny sliders because you seem to like miniature food a lot! After these, we can have the desserts!” 

You nod in agreement, snuggling up to him more. Receiving treatment like this makes you feel like a princess. Even though you’re not sure how much he has brought along, you internally make up your mind to at least taste everything and applaud the effort he put into it.  

Once you guys are done eating everything he had prepared himself, you urge Mingyu to take a break and save the desserts for the very end. He agrees, not willing for the date to end anytime soon. 

“I brought along something else as well… if you let me go for a bit, I can take my basket and you can hold me again.” You say after a while of chatting about this and that. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously, loosening his arms around your waist momentarily. That is enough for you to grab your basket and settle down on his lap again. 

“What did you bring? I’m so curious! Wait— tubes of paint?!” To add more to his surprise, you take out the small canvas, a literal gasp escaping Mingyu. “What can we possibly do with these? I don’t see any brushes…” 

“It’s so surprising to me that you’re always on Instagram, yet you have no clue about this.” You tease, placing the canvas in a position where both of you can access it very comfortably. He raises an eyebrow at your comment, feeling very attacked. But he refrains from saying anything.

“Let’s just start doing it, okay? It’ll make sense immediately because it’s nothing complicated.” You sigh, taking Mingyu’s palm in yours. He looks confused as you take the red watercolor tube first, getting rid of the cap and squeezing out a generous amount on the top of pinky finger. 

“Oh…” He lets you take his hand and bring it to the center of the tiny canvas, pressing the paint covered finger carefully against the paper. “But what’s that supposed to do? It just looks like a blob of paint…” Mingyu looks at you questioningly as you retreat his pinky from the canvas. 

“Oh hush, don’t be so impatient!” You scold him jokingly, pointing towards a bunch of tissues. “Clean up your finger now! You’ll find out soon enough.” He puffs out his lower lip, reaching for a tissue while grumbling.

You take the tube of blue watercolor and cover your whole thumb with a thick layer of paint. Mingyu watches you curiously while you press on your thumb in the opposite direction of his ‘blob of paint’, trying to get the sizes as close as possible. “That is so fucking adorable?!” Your boyfriend erupts in cute aggression when you lift up your thumb, revealing a heart made with your fingerprints. 

“It’s so cute, you’re so cute, fuck, I–” He stops himself before any inevitable words roll off his tongue. Mingyu is well aware that you prefer to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that you can process everything at your own pace. His thoughts are interrupted by your giggles. 

He tightens his hands right beneath your chest, pushing you close to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Is it that funny? So fun to watch me lose my shit because of how fucking adorable you are, hm?”

“It’s not like that…” you murmur, goosebumps all over your body. “I just thought that it’s kinda amusing how you were all clueless and nagging about it earlier, then suddenly, you were screaming about how cute this is.” It’s hard for you to not make any sounds when he’s caressing your sensitive areas, but you attempt to keep your voice low and steady. 

Mingyu wishes he could explain how much that tiny heart shaped painting actually means to him. It’s almost like all your heart is into those two blobs of red and blue paint, looking back at him, telling him secrets you’ve never shared with him before. He feels all warm and fluffy inside, his senses all wrapped around your nuances. “Can I keep that for myself?” 

“Of course!” You smile brightly at him, extremely giddy that he wants to keep this small token of your feelings for him which will last way longer than the flowers. “Let the paint dry first, though.” 

“Sure, baby.” He squeezes you in his arms. “Can we have the desserts now? I know it doesn’t look like it, but there are plenty of them.” Mingyu whines, feeling sort of desperate to show you everything he bought earlier. Thankfully for him, you nod, perking up at the mention of many desserts. 

He reaches for the box with pies first, knowing very well you’ll absolutely adore them. And you do, blessing his ears with one of those cute squeals of yours, eyes sparkling at the sight in front of you. “OMG!! So pretty! And it looks delicious!” 

“Mhm, I had a feeling you’d love to have these. Let’s dig in!” Mingyu takes out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirting out some of it on both of your hands. These pies are very conveniently palm-sized. With its crust shaped like a heart, ruby red filling made out of cherries — it sure does make you feel hungry just by looking at it. 

“C’mon, take a bite,” your boyfriend muffles out, mouth already full of the big bite he has just taken. You nod gingerly, taking a shy bite of the pie as well. The buttery, flaky crust, paired up with a bit of the sweet cherries melt in your mouth, a satisfied sound rumbling in your throat. 

“Mm, it’s really good!” The smile on your face is like a whole trophy to Mingyu. You liked it. He’s so glad that he can’t really explain. 

“Yay!!! I got you donuts and macaroons as well!” He blurts out, all giddy looking at you savoring the sweet dessert. Once you’re done with the pie, he reaches for the boxes of both donuts and macarons, earning a small whine from you.

“I can’t eat that much… I’m almost full.” 

“Why? You only ate a little…” A frown forms on your boyfriend’s lips.

“Gyu. I had a ton of tteok-bokki. Then sliders. Then fruits. On the dessert side, I already had a pie. I’m really, really, sorry, but that looks like a lot of macarons and donuts. My stomach will either burst or I’ll just throw up at the end of this!” You try your best to make your point stand, pleading with your eyes for him to understand.

Mingyu heaves out a sigh. “Fineee. You’re gonna take the macarons back home with you, then. I bought these especially for you. And I’m not listening to any complaints about that.” 

“Gyu, that kinda makes me feel bad though… you basically did everything for this date.” 

“Baby, I did everything voluntarily because I wanted to treat you like this. Like you deserve to be treated. And c’mon now! You brought flowers for me, and came up with a fun little activity to do. What about all the dates we’ve had before that were totally planned by you? So pretty please, with a cherry on top, don’t turn me down?” 

You turn in his lap to face him, blinking back the silly tears that clouded your vision. He hums in approval as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss. Although, you pull back soon enough, resting your foreheads together instead. “You mean so much to me,” you mutter, eyes locking with him. 

A strange warmth spreads throughout Mingyu, radiating inside-out and filling up his heart. He doesn’t really know what to say back — simply because he’s over aware of the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with you. But he doesn’t want to hurry, he wants to move with you, as you slowly open up your petals to him, like a flower does to a sun. 

“I wish there were words in my vocabulary capable of explaining how much you mean to me.” He smiles softly, pressing a butterfly kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingyu absolutely adores the sound of your giggle that drifts to his ears. 

“You’re so cheesy, I kinda like it.” 

“Just 'kinda'?” He can’t help his own chuckle. “And here I thought I was getting a lot of charm points for being cheesy.” 

“You can be cheesy all you want, baby. I think most of your charm points come from your physical features at a first glance.” You boop his nose, both of you bursting out in laughter. 

“Are you saying that I’m handsome?” 

“Mhm. Very handsome, in fact. Very tall as well. Very… very big too.” You can see the playful glint vanishing from his eyes. Mingyu inhales a shaky breath. 

“Let’s get to those donuts now. Please?” 

You nod, moving around to get back on your previous position. He bites back a groan as your hands feel around, squeeze and grab on his thighs before you settle down. “What donuts did you bring?” 

“Glazed donuts, cause you really liked them the last time!” He wraps an arm around your waist, adjusting you to be closer to him. Mingyu is well aware that he’s barely holding up. But, he’s trying to convince himself that being closer to you can get him through his… hard times.

“Whoa omg these look so good?!” His inner monologue is interrupted by your squeal. A small smile curls up his lips. 

“Right? Dig in, baby!” He encourages, leaning forward to take a donut for himself. You follow suit, excited to bite into the sugary heaven. 

The sweet dough crumbles in your mouth upon the first bite, the sugar glaze hitting your taste buds just right. As you savor the pleasant taste of it, a satisfied hum rumbles in your throat. “Gyu, this tastes heavenly. Way better than the last time we had it! And I loved the ones we got back then?!”

“I’m so glad, my angel. I’ll get you more the next time we meet up~” Your boyfriend nuzzles your hair affectionately, his heart doubling in his chest from adoration. It’s hard to explain how great he feels simply by seeing you happy, enjoying your food. Maybe, it’s because Mingyu himself loves to eat heartily and cook for his people; he hopes that he can see you like this forever. 

It would be so nice, he would cook for you everyday and help you out whenever you felt like cooking, and dine-out and order in as your heart desires. 

You’re almost done with your second donut by now, but Mingyu hasn’t said anything or even touched his portion after saying that he’d bring you more. Kind of worried, you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes transfixed on you. 

“... Hello? Why’d you go silent? Is something in my hair or—” you stop halfway when you notice his gaze has shifted to your lips now. It makes you swallow nervously, anticipation building up in your system. You know that look all too well. 

“There’s something on your lips.” His voice is nonchalant, relaxing your senses a bit. You nod, attempting to wipe off the crumbs with your hand, but he catches your wrist, leaning in swiftly to wrap your lower lip between his. 

Goosebumps spread all over your body, hands automatically winding around his neck as he suckles on the delicate flesh of your lips. His free hand rests against the small of your back, urging you to turn towards him fully. 

You really don’t understand how he can kiss you this good when you are yet to open up to his tongue. Your body has already started to heat up, breathing uneven. With shaky hands, you clumsily take off his glasses, his lips curling up in a smile against yours. 

Soon enough, he coaxes your mouth open, his hand letting go of your wrist and cupping your jaw instead. You both moan simultaneously, crazed by the sweet aftertaste of the desserts. Mingyu is extremely eager, taking the lead as always, your body starting to quake from the mind numbing kiss.

Picking up on your struggle to breathe, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “You have to keep breathing through your nose, baby. You can’t just forget to breathe, even if I’m kissing you so good for so long that your mind goes blank.” 

You flush at the mention of your usual complaint against him whenever he has to give you space to breathe during a make-out. “I… I try, I swear, but it’s…” you trail off between huffs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Aw, am I giving my princess a hard time?” Mingyu pats your head, nudging you to get back up. You nod, a small chuckle escaping him. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he leans in for a brief peck. “And so pretty, looking like a fairy today.” 

He returns to the kiss with full passion, tongue immediately entangling with yours, a low groan escaping him. You taste so maddeningly sweet, like an endless source of honey to his bee. He suckles on your tongue, his teeth nibbling on your lips, reducing you to an absolute mess. You are, quite literally, shaking, arousal dripping down your core and ruining the pretty lace thong you wore for today’s date. 

“Aah–” you gasp as he trails down to press wet, sloppy kisses down your neck, hands pulling at the sleeves of your dress. You don’t stop him, threading your fingers through the luscious locks of his wavy hair. Mingyu has nearly forgotten that you guys are technically in public, and has made you do the same. He drags your bra strap off your shoulder using his teeth, biting and sucking on the newly exposed skin.

One of his hands is wrapped around your waist to secure you, his other hand slipping beneath the skirt of your dress, stroking your thighs. Only now, you suddenly remember that you’re on a picnic date in a somewhat secluded part of a very public park. “Mm–mingyu– don’t—” you struggle with your words,  overwhelmed by his ministrations. He’s everywhere — touching, squeezing, licking, kissing and biting. “Stop, please.” You whimper, his actions halting immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu lifts his head to assess your situation, looking dazed himself, his voice hoarse. You swallow nervously, your own eyes glazed with tears that had appeared because he made you feel a bit too good.

“We… we’re in public,” You state firmly. “We can get caught in a very indecent state if we keep going.” 

Mingyu takes a look around the surroundings. Tall bushes and plenty of large trees cover this small patch of area entirely. He knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this spot. One would have to wander off very far into the park and physically push off bushes to get in here like you guys did. Which, to him, seems extremely unlikely. 

“I wouldn’t call this public, my love.” He takes both of your hands to entwine your fingers. “And I highly doubt someone would come this far and specifically peek around the bushes to catch us. You do remember how long it took us to get here, no?” 

“Yeah… but, what if—” 

“There are no ‘what if’s, my angel. Even if someone did come this far into the park, they’d still have to manhandle the bushes to be able to see what’s on the other side. Please, trust me…” 

His broken look stirs something in you, and you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “I do trust you. And I want you as much as you want me,” you whisper shyly, your thong uncomfortably damp and sticking to your skin. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we go home quickly, and um, finish what we started…?” 

Mingyu sighs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as possible. “I don’t think I can hang on for that long, baby. I need you so fucking bad. I’ve been struggling to keep myself together for an embarrassingly long time now. You– You just look so goddamn pretty. Like a tiny little fairy who is all mine to ruin. Fuck, just… just see what you’ve done to me.” He takes one of your hands and guides it to his crotch, blood rushing to your face. 

“If you want me just as much as I do, you must be soaking wet, right?” His whisper is hot against your neck, right hand holding your own to his growing bulge while his left hand slips between your thighs. You gasp when he rubs his fingers against your ruined underwear, a satisfied grunt reverberating in his throat. “Fuck.” Mingyu curses under his breath, his hips bucking up to your joined hands.

“You really want us to go home in this state? Hm?” His voice is a whine, only adding more to your devastation. To be really honest, all logical reasoning left your system the moment he made you feel his hard-on. And then he had to feel your drenched thong in return as well, arousing you to the extent where you don’t really give a fuck about being in the open anymore.

“Hngh, fine— do it quickly.” You whimper, every inch of you begging for his touch, to be relieved. Mingyu smiles, ecstatic upon your words, hungry lips finding yours for a kiss. You moan at the contact, pussy clenching around nothing. 

“As my princess wishes.” He hums, pulling down your dress to reveal your bra. His pupils dilate at the sight in front of him. Even when he dragged down the straps of your bra with his teeth, he didn’t think you’d be wearing a rather provocative lacey piece today. “Fuck,” Mingyu bunches up your dress around your waist, a groan escaping him.

Is this another fantasy of his? Cause no, fuck, you sure do look like it. 

The delicate lace work barely covers anything, his cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. He feels like he’s high. “Baby,” your boyfriend rasps, “do you even understand what you do to me? Hm?” 

“You like it?” your voice is a whisper, fingers digging into his shoulder from nervousness. A part of you knows the answer already, but still, hearing it out loud from him always makes you feel butterflies. 

“You’re really asking me that? Fuck, I love it, you’re so fucking pretty, I can’t believe that you’re real, and mine.” Mingyu groans, one of his hands reaching for your bra and pulling at its cups. His mouth immediately attaches to your left breast as soon as it is released. You gasp, body quivering at the touch. He bites and suckles on the soft flesh teasingly before reaching for your hardened nipple. 

You whimper out his name, fingers gripping on his hair. The way his tongue swirls around and suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves makes you dizzy. More arousal leaks out of your core, desperation cresting higher and higher. You need him in you, right now.

But Mingyu is lost in your breasts, reaching for your right one after a while, teeth dragging over the nipple before his tongue slurps at it. You quiver and whine in his arms from all the sensations you’re feeling. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and he never slacks off at that. 

“You’re so perfect, my little angel.” Mingyu hums, his right hand groping your left boob. “Fits so perfectly in my hand, so cute,” he murmurs before looking up at you. As he meets your tearful eyes, he loses a bit more of his sanity. 

“Damn it, you look so—” he stops short, breathing heavily. Will he ever get used to the way you look during intimacy? Probably not. The flushed face, teary eyes and parted lips always gets him.

“Gyu,” you whine, hugging him tightly. “It hurts, please do something,” your whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. Mingyu can’t help but smirk, wondering if he should tease you. “Need you in me.” your sweet plea stirs him, more blood rushing towards the south.

“Fuck it.” He reaches between your thighs, cupping your pussy. The soaked, warm fabric makes him growl. Your hips immediately start rocking, generating friction — something you’ve been craving for so long now. You sigh in relief, using his hand to stimulate yourself.

“What if someone sees you like this right now? So needy, humping my hand?” Mingyu asks, amused. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. However, you don’t stop moving your hips, inner walls clenching in desperation. 

“Do–don’t say that,” you whimper, “so embarrassing.” 

“Is that so? But you’re still rubbing into my hand, though.” 

“It’s because you won’t help me…” 

Mingyu can’t help but chuckle, his thumb finding your clit and pressing on it firmly. You scream out, a strong pulse of pleasure spreading through your nerves. He shushes you, alarmed. “Shh, you can’t be so loud today, baby… what if someone hears you and decides to check what’s going on?” 

You bite your tongue, absorbing his words. The thought paralyzes you from embarrassment, but for some reason, your pussy has a mind of its own. “It’s all your fault,” you croon, “it’s all because you can’t control yourself.” 

“I already said this like a hundred times, but, you look so fucking pretty in this cute little dress, baby. So fucking pretty. How am I supposed to control myself? When all I can think about is ruining my sweet angel?” Mingyu rasps, his calloused fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles. You’re certain that your legs will give up at this rate, your whole body teetering from the stimulation. 

“Bu–but—” you lower your voice to a whisper, “people will catch us like this, what then?” He presses a fleeting kiss on the corner of your lips, pushing the soaked lace of your thong to the side and sliding his middle finger between your labia against your slit. You swallow back a moan, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Guess you’re gonna have to keep it quiet in that case.” Mingyu pushes the digit into your sopping hole, making a ‘shlick’ sound that surprises both of you. “Fuck, did you hear that? Did you hear how wet you are for me?” You squeeze him in response, nerve endings on fire. It feels so incredibly good to finally have something fill your aching core. 

“Move, please,” you whimper, getting impatient. As if to test you, he slowly starts dragging his finger down, before pushing it back inside in a rough manner. You muffle your squeal against his shoulder, overwhelmed yet wanting more of him.

Soon enough, Mingyu loses the patience to tease you, his own urges kicking in. His ring finger slides into the depths of your molten warmth as well, your walls clenching around him from excitement. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he hisses under his breath. Slow, languid movements let him feel the way your arousal coats his skin in a silky veil, making him feel kind of suffocated around his crotch.

“Baby,” you whine, “wan’ more, please.” The burning ache for a release fires through your system, every single one of your cells begging for more. A breathy laugh rings in your ears, to your dismay.

“Want what exactly, love?” Mingyu’s eyes are twinkling with mischief, knowing very well that he’s pushing your boundaries right now. 

“Harder,” your choked whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. He clenches his teeth, thumb pressing down onto the swollen nub before anything. A gasp escapes you, face falling to rest in the crook of his neck, breathing uneven. His fingers pick up speed eventually, your lower stomach in knots, a shiver running down your spine. If your mouth wasn’t pressed up against his skin, you probably would’ve blabbered about how good he’s making you feel. 

It doesn’t take long for you to crest up towards the pinnacle, whole body convulsing, preparing itself for the rushing relief it’s about to experience. Mingyu, knowing very well that you’re about to finish, adds a third digit into your slippery warmth, seemingly triggering your orgasm. You muffle your cries in his neck, falling onto him as your legs give up entirely. He holds you securely with his free arm, feeling kinda dizzy himself. His neck is all slobbered up, covered with messy bites you left while trying to silence yourself. 

It takes you longer than usual to recover, finding the strength to stand on your knees. Blood rushes to your face when you regard the state of your boyfriend’s neck, even the collar of his black polo a victim to your actions. Mingyu, on the other hand, barely holding on, finally starts to pull out his fingers from your pussy, your juices leaking out on his hand profusely from the movement. A breathy whimper escapes you, nerves alight for pleasure once again. 

“Fuck, take a look at this,” He holds up his hand between you two, the slightly viscous liquid catching the sunlight and glowing, making you flush. “You treat me s’well, baby, servin’ me liquid gold.” His words only make you even more embarrassed, eyes avoiding him at all costs. The lewd sound of his slurping sends a tingle through your core, droopy eyes shyly catching him lick his fingers clean. You shudder a little when he moans satisfactorily, eyes trained on you the whole time.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you reach out to caress his jawline, bringing him closer for a kiss. Mingyu hums, a smile forming on his lips before attacking your mouth with full force. You gasp and moan while he finds his way to your tongue, the growingly familiar taste of yourself on his saliva causing a new surge of arousal to your core. Quite desperate to feel him now, you fumble with the button on his trousers blindly, undoing it quickly before reaching for the zipper. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu pulls away with a hiss, his stomach tightening from the feeling of your hand lightly pressing onto his clothed cock. Your eyes greedily devour the outline of his boner, almost poking at the material of his boxer briefs. Pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you up, you pull at the waistband of his underwear. 

“My god, Mingyu,” you swallow nervously, unsure how to react as his heavy cock springs out of its confines, slapping against his tummy. You’ve never seen it this angry and twitching, head covered with a light sheen of his pre-cum. Heart almost beating out of your chest, you reach for him, hands delicately wrapping around his length and giving it a few, slow pumps. 

“Baby, fuck—” His eyes shut close, teeth digging into his plump lower lip to restrict any noises. With your thumb, you spread the gathering pre-cum all over his tip, making him whimper in the process. If you don’t get fucked right now, you might just lose your mind. 

“Need you,” you whisper, pressing a fleeting kiss on his nose. Mingyu looks as if he’s pained, a defeated sigh escaping him. 

“My love, I– I need you too. So, so bad, can’t explain.” His eyes tear up suddenly, “B-but—” 

“What happened…?” You ask, alarmed by his expression.

“I— I don’t have a condom.” He frowns, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in the comfort of your chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Your heart drops to your stomach because of how devastating his tone is. 

“Nooo! It’s okay… um, we didn’t know this would happen, y’know? So, um, don’t apologize, please. And don’t talk like that.” You nudge him to look at you. 

“Yeah but… what are we gonna do now? We agreed to be safe from the beginning, so–”

“Well, I’m on birth control for my periods either way, so it’s okay.” You cut him off, desperate for him at this point. 

Mingyu looks up at you, hesitant. “Angel, are you really sure about that?”

A sigh escapes you. You know why he is feeling uncertain, you know that you are the reason. “Gyu, I don’t know anything, but I might just go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He inhales a shaky breath, your words toying with the few last strings of self-control left in him. “Okay, what about this — I’ll only put the tip inside, make you feel super good so you come quickly for me, and then I’ll pull out before I make a mess.” 

Your body shakes from anticipation. “Just the tip?” 

“Just the tip, baby.” 

Even though it’s not exactly what you had in your mind, you agree quickly. Anything to have him inside you. Also, you’re not too sure how that will possibly work out. You’re almost certain that you’ll end up getting more than just the tip.

Mingyu grabs your waist to position you right on top of him, the urgency in his actions painfully obvious. You gladly comply, too needy to say anything. As you feel his bulbous tip lining up against your entrance, you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “Gyu, I can’t wait anymore, need you right now.” 

With a groan, he slowly guides you down his length, only letting his tip and the following inch inside. You whimper, struggling a little as you get used to the stretch. It’s kind of astonishing how even just that fills you up satisfactorily. But still, you crave all of him, your body knowing the euphoria of having him up in the furthest nooks of your pussy very well. “You’re so big,” you murmur, inner walls clenching around him greedily, eager for more. Mingyu huffs out deep breaths, his ears turning red. How cute.

He collects himself in a moment, firm hands around your hips to make sure you don’t slide down further than he intends to give you today. “You feel s’good, so wet and hot, I feel like I’ll melt.” Mingyu sighs, helping you ride him, his thumb rolling your clit in lazy circles. 

You muffle your cries as he moves your hips in a slow and steady pace, inevitably sliding down his cock, little by little. However, he doesn’t really notice it, lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so deliciously. “Gyu, harder,” you plead, a bit tired of this torturously slow pace. 

Mingyu complies almost immediately, pulling you even closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you halfway, while he continues to guide your movements. You moan out happily, arms winding around his neck. His thrusts are shallow, but the frenzied movements trigger more pleasure in you.

Eventually, he loses control over your movements, momentarily giving up against the fiery impulses running through his nerves. With all the lubrication between you two, you slide down as much as possible with nothing to restrict you. A string of incoherent words leave you, your body extremely giddy to get what you’ve wanted for so long. 

“Fuck, no, this isn’t working,” Mingyu finally regains his senses, groaning as the untouched parts of his cock are engulfed by your warmth. He swiftly pins you down on an empty side of the picnic blanket. “Bad, bad girl.” 

You squirm under him, whining while he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside. “Now tell me, what should I do, now that you’ve broken our little deal.”

“Fuck me.” you whimper, your eyes teary by now. Mingyu tuts, shaking his head. You try your best to channel your pitiful, puppy dog eyes, ready to beg if that’s necessary.

“Such crude words from my sweet, little angel.” He sighs, “You’re really into testing my patience, aren’t you? Does it make you happy? Watching me lose my senses over your words?” 

“Don’t hold yourself back, please. I want to make you feel good too. Please, Gyu. Fuck me, make me yours, I don’t even care if people see or hear us anymore. Please.” Your voice is broken, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mingyu swallows nervously.

“Fucking hell.” The growled expletive marks the end of whatever self-control shit he was on. With one hard thrust, he smoothly fills up your touch-starved pussy entirely, coaxing out a loud moan of relief from you. His right hand immediately covers your mouth. “You might not care about some rando catching us like this anymore but I’ll be damned if someone sees you like this.” 

Mingyu lets go of your wrists, putting his left hand on the small of your back to support your body. “Don’t you dare complain about how you can’t walk later. You brought this upon yourself, remember.” He nibbles on your earlobe teasingly before starting to move against you. His thrusts are on the rougher side, your stomach tightening as the pleasure starts to build-up. 

With your free hands, you reposition his palm covering your mouth, suckling on his fingers instead. In response, you feel his cock twitch so vividly in your pussy, a groan reverberating in his throat. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” 

Mingyu pounds into you in a frenzy, quite obsessed with the raw feeling of your spongy flesh gushing around his cock. You moan and cry around his fingers, clenching happily as you feel your release right around the corner. He also picks up his pace, grinding down onto your clit in the process. Your brain has lost all the critical thinking power, salty streaks running down your cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the sensations.

You remove his fingers from your mouth, desperate to be heard. “‘m gonna come–” 

“Fuck, come for me, love, I’m gonna pull out,” Mingyu grunts, his pace faltering as his movements lose rhythm, inching closer to his own release.

“No, no— come in me, baby. Please. Don’t ruin my dress.” He has no idea what you are on about, but he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t sound tempting.

“Princess, do you even know what you’re saying?” He still asks, praying that you come back to your senses, for both of your good.

“I want you to come in me.” You manage to blurt out before your body convulses as the orgasm hits, gummy walls squeezing his cock to a halt. Mingyu curses under his breath, putting his fingers back in your mouth before you can scream your lungs out. Soon enough, he also reaches his peak, the thick, milky white liquid filling up your pussy to the brim. 

“_____, fuck…” he whimpers, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. You urge him to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Gyu,” you whisper, “you mean so much to me.” Mingyu nuzzles your face adoringly, pressing butterfly kisses over your bare skin, wherever he can reach.

“And to me, you’re like the sun.” His silly words make you laugh.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I’m like the earth orbiting around you, thriving because of your warmth and light?”

You flush at his words, beyond touched that he’d think of you in such a beautiful way. “You make me sound so insincere, Gyu.” Mingyu laughs at your pout, starting to get back up. 

“Yeah well, I still have to figure out what your flowers mean, remember?” He reaches for the packet of napkins lying nearby, sighing at the sight in front of his eyes.

“Yeah…” you trail off, “Do that once you’re home, okay?” He nods, seemingly distracted.

“I’m sorry love, I made such a mess.” 

“We.” 

“Hm?” 

“We made a mess. So don’t be sorry. I’ll help you clean up.” You offer him a smile, which he matches happily. 

Mingyu scrutinizes you one last time, making sure that you look presentable from head to toe. “Yeah, everything looks okay… except that your dress is all wrinkled…”

“I told you it’s fine, I’ll fix it up after a wash, don’t worry!” You reassure him, redoing your braid. “And please wash this outfit as soon as you get home, okay? I know it all dried up now, but still…” 

“I could say the same about your panties.” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah, but I doubt it’ll be wearable after today.” You sigh, checking yourself on your selfie camera. “C’mon, let’s go now. It’s afternoon already!” 

Mingyu hands you your basket, holding your free hand as you slowly take a few steps. “Are you sure you can walk?” 

“Yes, positive! I have to get home somehow.” You smile through a wince, making him shake his head. 

“Let’s go to my place. You can go back tomorrow morning after you’ve recovered from the pain. I’ll cook us dinner, help you take a bath, give you meds and cuddle you to sleep.” Mingyu offers, pushing off the bushes so that you guys can finally leave your little sanctuary. 

You both step out on the nearby trail, intertwining your fingers together back again. “Why do you always make it so hard to decline, Gyu?” He gives your hand a firm squeeze, winking at you playfully. 

“It’s a part of the package, baby.” His cocky chuckle infuriates you, but lord, is he right about that. 

This man might just be the end of you. But would you really mind it?

end of act one ♡ next

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

wahhh you made it to the end!! thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes in there, this is very roughly edited jdjfhfjhjff!! BUT i really hope that this was enjoyable and i was able to portray the lovebirds well 🤭! do let me know what you thought of this, please! reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖

until next time!

p.s: i’m pretty new to caratblr and i’d be grateful if you guys could recommend me some blogs to follow 🥺... (you can recommend your own blog as well)!

[star2fishmeg]

tattoo blurb in honor of lukeys birthday,, perhaps u get it as a birthday gift for him and he can’t keep himself together

Best bday present ever, in my opinion. This is longer than I expected oops. Happy birthday Luke!

You're supposed to meet everyone at the bar with Luke to celebrate his birthday in ten minutes, but instead, you're hurling yourself through his apartment complex with shopping bags and sweat dripping down your back. You were so late, but the traffic wasn't your fault and you had to give Luke his present before you left.

When Luke does answer the door, it's in a panic, eyes wide and he's pushed out the way as you barrel through his place, straight into the bedroom as he's left following you like a shadow, throwing his head back and groaning in irritation.

"Y/n, where were you, we're so late." He walks into his bedroom, voice laced with concern as he watches you dump your bags and remove your shoes, "Everyone is waiting."

"I'm so sorry, the traffic was awful," you pant, pulling your hoodie over your head, "but I have to give you your present before we leave."

"Can it wait? You still need to get ready-"

"-No, I've been waiting weeks for this," you point to the end of his bed, "sit."

He does as he'd told, and you turn away from him. Luke checks his watch impatiently, debating on whether he should text Jack about the further delay. He can't be too harsh on you though, usually, you were early to everything, usually, you were the one waiting on him to sort himself out. He looks up, jaw slacking and suddenly all the bubbling irritation dissolved into heat flushing to his neck, that tingly feeling surging through his body like electricity when his eyes lay on the sight of you pulling your jeans off, flashing a view of your ass clad in his favourite lace panties. Fantasies flood through his mind, potential gifts he's dreamed about in the upcoming weeks, ones that make his jeans tight as your shirt is discarded across his room, not that it was part of the gift, but it was going to come off anyway.

A grin crawls onto your lips upon hearing the way his breathing hitches. You've been itching to show him, tired of coming up with excuses as to why you couldn't sleep over, seeing it in the mirror and knowing that it'll drive Luke up the wall, in a good way, of course.

"Babe, you can't just do that without warning, you know what it does-" he begins, hands running over your thighs and pulling you closer between his legs. You giggled at him, not the cute giggle that sounds like summer sunsets and picnics on the docks, but the giggle that raises sirens in his head that he should brace himself for your antics.

You slowly spin to face him, excitement in your stomach and hands landing on his shoulders. Luke's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes flickering over the '43' tattooed on your bikini line, healed but tender and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. A quiet 'fuck' slips past his lips, thumb tracing gently over the ink.

"Happy birthday, Lu." You coo, bringing your hand to his hair and threading your fingers through his curls just the way he likes it, the way that makes his body melt into your touch.

He swears again. He's on your body. Forever. You've claimed him as yours and everyone will see that over the summer. You've declared your love, faith, and hope to him, making his chest bloom with joy. His lips tug into a grin and a lewd warmth pools to his core. He's looking at the hottest thing you've ever done. It's so hot he can't find the words, they're jumbled in his brain and the only clear thoughts swirling is how he never wants you to wear anything ever again, he wants to see it all the time. He wants to mark it, kiss it, and show you how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

"What do you think?" you ask, teasingly as his gaze remains on the tattoo, locked in a trance and you know exactly what's on his mind. What's got him worked up, ears tinted pink and knee bouncing.

He fumbles over his words, failing to formulate a coherent sentence, but eventually pulls himself together just enough to communicate exactly how you've lured him into a filthy paradise of consuming lust that sends him into overdrive. He doesn't look up when he speaks lowly, long fingers toying under your waistband, "You think I make you cum in the next five minutes?"

"I think you can do it in less."

[kentopedia]

if we're asking for nanami thoughts then i just wanna know how he'd act if you came home llate from a mission or work jwjbsbs i need this rn

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SAFE & SOUND — nanami kento

contents: gn!reader 🤍 heheh i didn't mean to write a whole little drabble but i cannot resist something like this ! sfw & a little bit of angst for kicks and giggles — 700

given the nature of being a sorcerer, nanami can't help but get worried when you're running late. he watches the clock tick, minute after minute passing while you still haven't answered his calls.

he's nervous, of course he's nervous. but he doesn't want to be annoying. he knows you can take care of yourself, knows you're strong and capable; and he doesn't want to seem like an overprotective boyfriend. even if it terrifies him that he can't get a hold of you.

instead, he'll just wait for your response, pace the apartment with his phone in his hands and pretend like everything's fine.

kento tries to stay calm. but 45 minutes have passed, and you still haven't answered him.

he's not usually an anxious man, not usually one to let his emotions get the best of him; but his palms are sweaty, his hands shaky, and he can't remember the last time he's felt so on edge.

the dinner he made earlier is already cold, even his own, which he can't bring himself to eat now.

kento's beginning to wonder if he needs to start making calls. there's no need for him to overreact, not when he hasn't been informed that your mission went awry. perhaps satoru knows where you are, shoko, one of the students.

or maybe not. if he doesn't get an answer soon, he'll consider going out after you.

he waits for ten more minutes. the seconds drag on and on.

kento's finger hovers over gojo's contact name. he contemplates.

but the door unlocks just before he can click it, and you're stepping through the threshold, shaking off your coat like nothing's wrong. your hair's a little wind-blown, but otherwise, kento can't spot anything off about you. there's no noticeable wounds, no pain in your expression other than exhaustion.

he's to you in just a few steps, dropping his phone back on the table to take you into his arms. you don't even have time to take your shoes off before he's crushing you to his chest, a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing it near his heart.

you can hear it hammering in his ribcage, an erratic rhythm that makes guilt flower in your stomach. already, you feel so horrible, you'd been in such a rush to get home.

"kento," you say softly, apologetically, and he swallows, kissing your forehead. he's trying to pretend like nothing's wrong, like he wasn't just scared out of his mind, but you can see right through it. "i didn't mean to worry you."

it doesn't take a genius to realize he'd been afraid, not with the way he can't take his hands off of you.

he breathes, kisses the top of your head. "you didn't call me back."

"my phone died. i didn't get the chance to." you feel so, so awful, especially since you know that this has always been his greatest fear.

time after time, he's lived while other sorcerers die, and you know, even if he doesn't tell you, that he's just waiting for it to be you next. for it to be you lying on that steely table, leaving kento all alone, hardened to the world, perhaps forever.

"i'm so, so sorry, kento," you say, pressing your hand against his chest, feeling as the rhythm of his heartbeat dies down. "i was going to call you back as soon as i finished the mission, and then–"

"shh," he squeezes you tight once more, reassuring, "it's okay. it's not your fault, sweetheart."

"i should've been more prepared." your features pinch together. "i should've charged my phone before i left."

"it's okay," kento says again, and you're not sure when you became the one that's being consoled. "the important thing is that you're home safe and sound."

you swallow down your guilt, kissing his collarbone, the closest part of him that you can get your lips on. "i don't like worrying you."

finally, kento pulls away. you can see the distress that's slowly fading, the way his hands stop their nervous shaking. he brushes a piece of hair away from your face, smiling softly. the expression is almost sad, but there's so much love there, so much affection that you ache.

"well there's nothing we can do about that," he says, kissing your forehead before slinging an arm over your shoulder. "i worry about you all the time."

you open your mouth to argue, but it dies quickly. your rebuttal is futile, hypocritical. you worry about him just as much.

"i'm going to be just fine," you tell him as he leads you to the kitchen, where the cold food is sitting there, waiting. "i'll always make it home to you."

he smiles, and squeezes your hand once. "i sure hope so."

[wlntrsldler]

i’m kinda feeling a jealous!luke rn…… how do we feel about luke going to cheer for fuve star in one of her matches but afterwards when he’s going to congratulate her, he finds some dude trying to flirt with her. and she’s clearly not interested but luke doesn’t miss the chance to greet her with a kiss and then look at the guy with the most annoyed, dismissive expression ever. then luke smiles. “sorry, was i interrupting?”

a/n: i know nothing about field hockey! beware!

"mr. d, i don't know how you do this," luke muttered, eyes darting between you and clarisse on the field. the score was 1-1 and it was end of 2OT. both teams were gearing up for a shootout for the national title. "i've never been this nervous in my life."

mr. d chuckled from beside him, placing a comforting hand on luke's upper back, "trust me, it doesn't get any easier."

"i think i'm gonna throw up," chris mumbled from beside luke, anxiously waiting for the referee to indicate that the shootout was starting. clarisse was third on the line-up.

"you and me both, brother," luke replied, chewing on his bottom lip. he tugged on his shirt, suddenly feeling confined in the fabric. you were so close to the championship. this was the final game and if you won, you'd be a back-to-back national champion.

luke knew how hard you worked to get here. he often got voice memos from you, ranting about how practice and training wore you out, but he knew you got up bright and early the next day to do it again. you fell asleep on facetime calls often, sometimes only lasting ten minutes before you fell asleep on the call.

"it's starting," chris said, getting up from his seat. "i don't know if i want to watch or look away."

northwestern was up first. goal.

"fuck," travis groaned, echoing the sentiment of fellow unc supporters in the stands.

connor and travis were sitting behind him, both equally nervous to see how the game would unfold. you and clarisse had bought them unc merch to wear to the game, but luke and chris wanted to surprise you and clarisse with diy shirts that said "number [your jersey number/ clarisse's jersey number] biggest fan." you and clarisse both laughed when you saw their shirts. you loved them.

by the time it was clarisse's turn, the score was 1-0 (shootout) with unc trailing behind.

"come on, clar," chris hollered, clapping his hands, "you got this!"

clarisse masterfully maneuvered around northwestern's goalie and sunk the ball into the net. the boys and mr. d screamed in celebration as the score changed to reflect the goal. 1-1. unc was still in it.

clarisse pointed to the stands, eyes finding chris' in the crowd and blew him a kiss. chris beamed as he saw himself on the big screen. he pointed to his shirt, mouthing, "that's my girl!"

"i love how two days ago you guys had no clue how field hockey worked and now look at you," silena teased, adjusting the unc cap on her head.

"we still don't know what's going on, to be honest," luke replied sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck, "but this is the big game!"

"i get it," she said, nudging charlie, "i still don't understand football but i'm at my wits end every time i watch him play."

charlie chuckled, wrapping an arm around silena's waist, before cheering with the rest of the crowd when you stepped up for the shootout.

you were the last one to go and even that alone is a lot of pressure, but you were the tiebreaker for this shootout. the score was still 1-1. nobody has scored since clarisse, both goalies were brick walls and luke's heart was hammering in his chest.

"come on, five star," he whispered, biting his knuckles, "light work baby."

you took a deep breath and dribbled the ball. you were electric out there. you were strategic and quick on your toes. luke was mesmerized watching you play. he'd seen your tapes before, in preparation for this game just so he wasn't completely clueless walking into the championship game, but watching it in real time was something else.

you swerved around the goalie and hit the ball. luke held his breath. goal.

"let's fucking go!" you screamed, falling to your knees on the field as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

the screams from the unc fans were defeaning. luke was grinning from ear to ear as the boys cheered around him. chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shaking him relentlessly. luke couldn't contain his excitement, but he knew that he should let you have this moment with your team. he'll celebrate with you in a bit, for now, you needed to soak in this feeling. back-to-back national champion.

as the adrenaline from the win began to subside, luke and chris, with the help of mr. d, made their way to the field. chris wandered off to find clarisse and luke was standing on the sidelines as mr. d talked to your coach. he watched as you did your post-game interview. you were glowing and it took all his willpower to not run up to you and kiss you on national television.

when you shook the reporter's hand in goodbye, luke began walking over to you, only to stop in his tracks when a boy approached you. luke blinked, tilting his head as he watched the situation unfold.

the guy was... okay-looking. he was definitely an athlete too, based on his build and height. luke's assumptions were proven correct when he got close enough to see his unc basketball hoodie. the boy's eyes fucking twinkled while he spoke to you, a charming smile adorning his face that luke wanted to punch off his prince charming facade.

he watched as you took a step back from the boy, awkwardly gesturing somewhere in the stands. luke felt smug hearing you say, "well, i have a boyfriend and he's over there actually so i should go find him."

but the guy was not letting up. luke watched as the guy rolled his eyes, obviously unphased by your revelation. luke clenched his jaw, keeping his composure.

luke marched over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to turn you around. he roughly connected his lips with yours, smirking inside when you moaned at the contact. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper. his hands traveled up your spine, pushing you flush against his body. when the two of you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, a giddy smile on your face as you breathed out, "hell of a congratulations, castellan."

luke laughed, placing a quick kiss to your lips before turning to address the boy, "sorry, was i interrupting something?"

you had to cover your mouth to muffle the snort that came out of you. luke was staring at the boy intensely, lips in a tight line, as his hand squeezed the skin of your hip in possessiveness. the boy faltered, taking a step back in defeat. luke continued to shoot daggers at him, not deterred by the threat, or lack thereof, in front of him. eventually, the boy got the hint and walked away, shaking his head.

luke's cocky smirk was unstoppable as he faced you again, "great job, baby. national champ, again! look at you."

"thank you," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. luke welcomed your public display of affection. "are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

he rolled his eyes, playfully, "nah, not worth it."

"yeah, but it was hot."

"then yes, let's talk about how hot you think i am."

"shut up," you replied, kissing him again. if this was your way of shutting him up, he wasn't going to complain.

[mytheoristavenue]

Hi hi!!! I'm here to pop into your inbox to remind you about the office part 2 thingy :3 (i absolutely adore your writing by the way, nobody else writes for those 3 as well as u do <3)

Thanks for reminding me!

MHA Fumikage Tokoyami 🍋 - Step Into My Office

Summary: As requested, you meet Tokoyami in his office, hoping he wasn't about to fire you.

Warnings: Office sex, mean!Tokoyami, rough sex, slight manipulation, use of his alias, unprotected sex, AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

You waited on the other side of the door, heart hammering in your chest. You'd stood there for nearly ten minutes at this point, trying to gather your courage, staring down a gold nameplate that read 'Tsukuyomi'. With a final, very deep breath, you raised your fist to knock, only to be startled out of the idea by your boss bellowing from the inside. "I haven't got all day."

You quickly scurried in, shutting the door behind you, nervously grooming yourself as you collected your bearings. "M-My apologies, sir." You squeaked, drawing closer. "Y-You wanted to see me?"

"You may not be aware of this, but I am an incredibly busy man." The crow scolded, hands folded neatly under his beak, elbows propped on the desk. "If I offer you my time, I'd advise against wasting it."

"O-Of course, sir," You bowed your head shamefully. "I-It won't happen again."

"I hope not," He nodded to the visitor's chair in front of his desk. sternly. "Sit." You do as he asked, swallowing dryly.

"Have I done something wrong, sir?" You asked, voice trembling as you peered up at him.

"Aside from interrupting me time and time again? No," He answered, beady vermillion eyes narrowing on you as if you were a field mouse. "As a matter of fact, the other heroes in this agency and I have been talking and..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak. "As much as it pains me to admit, we agree you deserve a reward for your hard work."

You can't contain the smile that cracks across your face, eyes sparkling with awe at his attempt at praise. "R-Really, what is it?"

For the first time, he smiled- no, smirked at you. His expression was predatory and devious, but you tried to push down how uneasy it made you. You were finally being recognized for your dedication to the agency and you couldn't be happier.

"My, aren't you eager?" He teased, tilting his head back, motioning for you to come over to him. "You may have the others convinced you're an angel sent from above to organize their lives for meager pay," He cooed, rolling his desk chair back and pulling you by the hips in front of him, slowly turning you to face the other way. "But I am not so easily swayed."

You couldn't even find the words to reply, not that he would have allowed you to speak over him anyway. Your face glowed red like a cattle branding iron and felt just as hot as he continued, one palm flat on the small of your back, giving you a gentle forward nudge. You pressed your hands to the desk, leaning over in as modestly as you could.

"That being said, if you were able to convince me that you have this agency's best interest at heart, I might be inclined to give the final vote in favor of your new contract." He hinted, eyes darkening as he surveyed the doughy surface of the backs of your thighs, trailing the seem that ran up the legs of your pantyhose. "Which of course, would include a handsome raise and a very nice benefit package. But the choice is inevitably yours. Your position here is not in jeopardy if you decline."

You finally nodded shyly, just once. "W-What would I need to do to convince you?"

-----

"Just like that, perfect," Tsukuyomi sighed, hand still pressed to the small of your back, easing you up and down. He felt so powerful, sitting in his big leather office chair, watching his secretary do all the work for him. Your knees trembled and the muscles in your thighs burned from the odd angle, but you did as you were told, sitting fully into his lap before dragging yourself into a near stand. You repeated this workout for what felt like millennia, but you couldn't deny that it was worth your while.

The crow marveled at the sight of you, back arched, straining to keep up with his command, pencil skirt pushed up your back. Your dark gray pantyhose now had an obscene hole, only big enough for him to fit through and your panties were unceremoniously pushed to the side, leaving little to catch the fallout. "Good girl, you certainly deserve a raise, don't you?" He cooed, head tilted back in ecstasy as you rode him from the comfort of his chain.

You nodded with a pitiful whine, only to feel a sharp smack to your rump which you were sure left a tight fishnet pattern on your skin thanks to your pantyhose. "Go on then, tell me you deserve that raise. You want it, don't you?" He ordered, his palm lingering on your backside, caressing it, as if to soothe the sting.

"I-I..." you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as drool dripped down your chin. "I-I deserve a raise..."

"Oh, you don't sound very sure of yourself," He feigns ignorance, sighing. "I don't think I can in good conscience sign off on a reward you don't feel you deserve."

"I-I do...deserve it." You argued weakly, knees buckling a bit from the strain they were under.

"Then convince me," He encouraged, smacking your behind again, but not near as hard as this time. "Say: 'I deserve a damned raise, Tsukoyomi, sir!'" He ordered, taking the initiative to pull you down onto him to penetrate you even deeper.

"I-I can't say that..." You refused meekly, dipping your head against the desk momentarily, only to be straightened again by his harsh actions.

"Need I remind you that this is all for your benefit?" He asked, his breath hitching a bit when he bottomed out entirely, not that you noticed. "It brings me no pleasure to have to spend even more money on your labor. Now, do you want that raise, or not?"

"I-I do-!" You whined, throwing your head back, only to have the hero catch a fistful of your hair.

"Then say it!" He demanded, shifting up to stand, pounding into you hatefully as his chair rolled away behind him. "Say it or the offer is off the table, I won't wait for you to decide what you want!"

You finally snapped, feeling your cervix begin to bruise, melting into the desk, coating his paperwork with drool and smudged makeup. "I-I deserve a damn raise, Tsukuyomi!" You shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I-I deserve so much more than what I make for putting up with you all! I deserve a six-figure salary just for putting up with you alone!"

Tsukuyomi's eyes darkened as he let out a low chuckle, incredibly aroused by your outburst. "That's right, tell me all about it, Feather," He huffed, finally convinced as he watched you work yourself silly on his cock. "You've got a hard job, don't you? Keeping up with three pro heroes all by yourself?" You nodded, moaning a confirmative hum. "And I'm just awful to you, aren't I?"

"T-Terrible..." Admit ina mousy tone, nearly braindead from how he was treating you.

"Let's start over, shall we? I w-want to turn over a new leaf, be a better boss." He chuckled, feeling his high crescendo begin to build. "Why don't we start with twenty-five percent pay raise, along with 401K, vision a-and- a-ahhh..." He trailed off, beginning to lose himself. "M-Medical insurance..."

You gritted your teeth as the knot in your tummy pulled tight and tighter. Suddenly you smirked weakly. "A-And dental?"

Your boss was taken aback to be sure, halting for a moment before gripping your hips tightly, bracing himself. "Let me cum inside?" He proposed with a devious smirk which only widened as you nodded, messed bun bouncing with the motion. "Deal."

-----

"I'll draw up the paperwork this afternoon," Tsukuyomi said sternly, clearing his throat and smoothing his costume out, watching you do the same with your office attire. "I will have to have another meeting with Tentacole and Tail-Man to discuss the negotiation."

You nodded with a serene smile, shifting awkwardly, thighs glued together. "Thank you, Tsukuyomi, sir," You began tidying up his desk as if nothing had ever happened, taking his coffee mug as you turned to leave. "I'll bring you a fresh cup of coffee."

"Thank you." He nodded, an air of professionalism surrounding him.

"Sir?" You asked before you got to the door, still squirming uncomfortably. "May I be granted an extended lunch? I'd like to go home to change." The way he smirked at your request made you incredibly uneasy.

"Permission denied."

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Can you write where Ethan as Ghostface kidnaps reader to keep her from the reveal because he loves her and doesn’t want her to get hurt but she falls in love with his masked self so he ends up revealing himself anyway

kinda had to change this a tiny bit, but still got that stockholm syndrome vibe. also I've never done this trope so this might not be great, i tried.

masterlist

“shit. it’s a trap!” chad yelled as he paced around the floor. the lights in the theater cut off cloaking the space in an ominous darkness.

arms stretching in front of you, trying to keep yourself from running into cabinets or people. your heart was hammering against your ribs, quick uneven breaths leaving your mouth. “guys? guys!” not hearing anything back from your friends.

“anyone-“ a gloved hand covered your mouth and it muffled your horrified scream. ghostface got you, you’re already dead. you tried jerking away from them as they dragged you away and further in the abandoned theater. the scratchy material of their robe rubbed at your throat and tickled your stomach.

you could feel the muscle of the stranger beneath their costume, physically telling to you that you were out matched. your harsh breathing from your nostrils filled the hallway along with two steps of footsteps. their hold was tight but not restricted, if you could just kick or swing maybe-

“i wouldn’t try anything, sweetheart.” a low voice whispered in your right ear. they didn’t have the standard ghostface tone, but it sounded like they were trying to disguise it. an involuntary shiver racked your spine and hitched your breath.

continuing in their rush to drag you away they brought both of you to a cluttered closet, sneakers bumping into fallen bottles and soft rolls of towels. practically being shoved into a metal shelf and causing a wooden broom handle to clatter noisily to the linoleum flooring.

"help! help-"

"shut up! i'm trying to save you!" your captor growled and their clunky boots carried themself into your limited space. their towering stature staring down at you through those empty black eyeholes.

"save- save me?" you stuttered, "you've been trying to kill us for a week! sam! chad! help me-" scratchy fabric covered your mouth and part of your nose causing your breathing to be short and panicked.

ghostface leaned in closer, "well you seem like the only good one so I'm being generous and deciding to spare your life. now, i have to go after your friends, but you're gonna stay here until i come back and everything will be okay." waiting for a beat before rushing out back into the light and leaving you to sub come to the dark.

did it make you a bad person, or a bad friend if you were relieved that a serial killer decided you were worth keeping alive? you'd be willing to play their little game for however long until you were ready to run free and disappear, they seemed to have a sort of liking to you. maybe an obsession, they would've been stalking you if they knew your every move and location.

it kinda made you feel a certain way. a romantic, unhinged sort of way. you've heard of people saying how their partner is obsessed with them, but having a stranger being so obsessed with you they're willing to kill everyone else to keep you...

maybe your ex's were right. you were a bit sick in the head.

you weren't sure how long you were locked in the closet. could've been ten minutes could've been an hour, but when you heard rushed footsteps outside the door and the lock turn you rushed forward and threw your arms around your kidnapper.

"let's go before the cops arrive." was all they said after a minute of your hug. your dropped your arms, but they reached for your left hand and dragged you behind. you followed like a lost puppy.

when an exit sign came into view they halted to a stop causing you to bump into their back, confused by their decision. "what's wrong?" rounding to stand in front of them, hands still locked.

"i- i have to stash the costume. don't- don't want you to see my face." they almost seemed worried, concerned about your reaction to their identity.

"hey," you stepped closer, hand reaching to caress the mask, "it's okay. i'm not gonna run. i- i want to stay with you, you saved me." voice dripping in seduction and honey. eyes doeing to further convince them of your alliance to them only.

with their free hand they gripped the chin of the mask and slowly lifted it away until to came free and you were greeted by the shocking sight of- "ethan?" his sweaty curls shading his eyes.

he didn't say anything, just bit into his bottom lip while watching you closely waiting for that inevitable switch that always happens when the killer is revealed in movies. but all he got was a creeping smile changing your face and you saying, "when we're safe i'm gonna make out with you so hard, killer." before he rushed to stripe the black robe off and you both rushed out the deserted building.

hand in hand. grinning like the psychos you are.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

As far as public bathrooms go, the one at Ocean’s Edge isn’t all that bad for throwing yourself a pity party in.

The sinks are all sleek and modern-looking, with gold faucets and polished stone basins. Large oval mirrors hang above them, and—true to the club’s name—little neon fish swim all over the navy-blue walls. [Speakers somewhere in the ceiling play the lulling sounds of waves rolling against the shore.] There’s even an air freshener plugged into the corner that puffs out coconut-scented mist every ten minutes[, so that you can truly feel like you’re in a tropical paradise while throwing up from however many drinks it takes to make you forget about a shitty day.]

The black stall isn’t exactly roomy, but Morisuke has just enough space to stretch out his legs while he perches on the edge of the toilet, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at his phone. The screen is bright in the bathroom’s dim lighting and draws all of Morisuke’s attention like a moth to a flame. 

Please, reads the last message. It had been two weeks since then. Kuroo, talk to me. What did I do?

Kuroo never responded. Rereading the conversation makes Morisuke feel like he’s dragging the claw of a hammer across his heart, but he keeps scrolling farther and farther back. 

Let’s end it, Kuroo had written. This didn’t really mean anything, after all. I have better things I could do with my time.

Six months. Six fucking months, and none of it meant anything, apparently. Not the late nights they stayed up to make fun of inaccurate sci-fi series, or the times they met early at the cafe for breakfast because it was their only chance to get together for the day. Not even the time Kuroo opened up about his mother, his gaze distant, and Morisuke had held his hand to anchor him to what was real and here and whole. He still remembers that soft smile Kuroo had given him after, the way they'd curled up on the couch like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Morisuke had offered him tea, hot chocolate, whatever he needed. Kuroo just laughed and kissed his temple.

All I need is you, he had said. You're perfect, Yakkun. i couldn't ask for anything more.

And then not even a week later, Morisuke was getting dumped over text.

"Stupid," he says out loud now. “Dumbass. Idiot. Why the fuck did I ever fall for him?”

The bathroom door creaks open, letting noise from the club spill in, but Morisuke doesn’t pay it any mind until he hears a familiar voice calling out his name. 

“Morisuke? Are you here?”

“No,” Morisuke grumbles. His voice echoes off the bathroom walls. “Go away.”

“You made me promise to stop you before you do anything stupid.” Footsteps fall closer until they pause right outside Morisuke’s stall. Damn Sugawara Koushi and his unwavering loyalty—he’d probably break in if he had to. “Are you planning on doing anything stupid?”

Morisuke unlocks the stall door and lets it swing open. He glares at Koushi, who just smiles back at him. It’s a hot summer night and they’d been surrounded by heated bodies on the dance floor, but Koushi still looks totally put together. Meanwhile, Morisuke is sweating through his socks and the back of his neck feels way too warm.

So, yeah, he’d needed a break. It’s not like he came to the restroom just to feel sorry for himself. 

“You had me worried,” Koushi says. “The last time I saw you, you were downing your seventh shot. And that was after the two drinks you already had.”

Was it really? Morisuke hadn’t been keeping track. He’d just asked for something strong. And again. And again. And then for one more, perhaps two or three times. Maybe five. 

Whatever. Morisuke is feeling perfectly fine. His head is a little foggy, sure, but he’s fine. He can totally think this through. 

“I wanna text him.”

Koushi makes a choked sound. “Oh, no. You are very drunk, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” Morisuke frowns at his phone. “He never told me why. I want to know that much, at least.”

The door to the stall next to Morisuke’s flies open with a bang, and he and Koushi jump. A body wedges itself between them: tall and broad-shouldered, with artfully-tousled chestnut hair, glasses framing brown-sugar eyes, and a jawline that could cut through steel. Hot, but not Morisuke’s type.

Kuroo had been Morisuke’s type.

-- an excerpt from don't text your ex, a kuroyaku exes-to-lovers fic where yaku gets unsolicited advice from a stranger in the club bathroom

[mosylufanfic]

Rebelcaptain Week Day Three: Partners

A while back, @astromechs was talking about Cassian's deep and abiding need to take care of people. Of course it was in the context of dom/sub dynamics and that is still fascinating to my filthy little self. But the concept was in the back of my mind as I was poking at this idea.

Thanks also to @doscharolastras for letting me pick her brain for medical details. 

You Find Someone to Carry You

Cassian's little craft sat in orbit, waiting for clearance to land on Sesis Minor. They were taking forever because there was a pouring storm on the surface, right over the spaceport he was due at in - 

He glanced at the chrono on the dashboard. 

Ten minutes ago.

Not that he could mention that to port authority. "Yes, I need an emergency landing because I'm a Rebel picking up an intelligence agent who's been embedded for a month." He was supposed to be a gig pilot picking up a paid transport. 

He didn't know who the agent was, of course. His clearance for this mission was low. He'd headed out from the Kelodab system with only the agent's location and their destination, the base on Dalloosis. Plus a set of passcodes for ID. If all went well, he wouldn't even see their face.

If all didn't go well . . . he'd handle that as it came up. 

It was odd being on this end of things. Anonymous pickups like this were usually doled out to baby intelligence agents, getting their first taste of keeping their mouth shut and their eyes open. Cassian had been working in data analysis for months. This was his third foray back into the field. He'd done a dead drop circuit of the Primtara sector last month, and dropped an agent into enemy territory in the Inner Rim two weeks ago.

His stamina and health were slowly returning after the hammering both had taken from his injuries on Scarif. But he had the feeling he'd never again do the kind of missions he'd done before, with nothing more than an objective and no backup except for Kay. 

Kay.

He had to take a breath and hold it for a moment, until the heavy pain in his heart ebbed. 

It was good to move away from what he'd been doing before Scarif, he knew. It had been important, but it had also been draining him dry, making him question why he was doing any of it. 

Until Jyn . . . 

He cut that thought off too.

It had been a good change. But still, he felt as alone as he had at the very beginning of the Rebellion, before Kay had joined him. 

This was important work, he reminded himself. Just because he wasn't doing the riskiest missions anymore, the most high-level recons, it didn't mean he wasn't still a Rebel.

If you couldn't run, you walked. If you couldn't walk, you crawled. And if you couldn't crawl, you found someone to carry you. 

Who've you got to carry you, Cassian Andor?

Keep reading on AO3

[eryiss]

Pain, Punish, Pleasure

Summary: Freed lost a bet, and was forced into chastity for ten days. He broke out against their agreement, and Laxus takes him to their playroom to give him the brutal punishment he deserves.

Notes: Apparently when I’m having a bad week, I write rough dom/sub sex. Have fun. It’s the most brutal smut I’ve ever written. You might want to check the Ao3 tags before you read.

Links: Ao3

Pain, Punish, Pleasure

The metal shackles around his ankles were cold, and spelled to never get warmer. The bar that separated his legs kept them far apart, just enough for his thighs to burn gently with the pressure. His arms were hung high up above his head, cuffed together and chained to the ceiling high enough that his toes only barely grazed the padded floor. Everything ached.

It was wonderful.

Freed could see nothing. Sense nothing. The thick, black blindfold smothered him, and drool slid over the plastic bit gag forced in his mouth. Sharp clamps brought sweet agony to his nipples, and with every movement the chain connecting them clinked tauntingly.

He knew Laxus was in the room, just not where. He'd be watching. Observing. Smirking. Laxus could be quiet when he wanted to be, and he was always quiet in their playroom. The pressure of his presence was enough. Freed knew he was being watched, or perhaps stalked, by the man who was going to hurt him. Damm could Laxus hurt him when he wanted to. He could be patient with it. Surprising. Cruel.

Everything about the situation was meant to put Freed at a disadvantage. Freed was bound, Laxus was free. Freed was naked, Laxus wore one of his best suits. Freed was a toy meant to be broken, Laxus was happy to take up the task.

"You know how long you've been hanging there?" Laxus demanded, breath hitting the back of Freed's neck. He spoke low and dirty. "Ten minutes. Ten minutes without anyone touchin' you, and you're still hard."

Laxus reached around him, slapping the straining erection with lightning dancing on his palm. Freed let out a yell as his hard cock was burned by the lightning, trying to lurch back on instinct. Laxus was waiting for him, hands on Freed's hips and fingers sparking with that very same lightning. Freed all but screamed into his gag, struggling as best he could against his bounds. Laxus just laughed at him.

"You know why you're going through this, right?" He asked. He didn't wait for a response before slapping Freed hard on the ass, making his body swing forward. "You disobeyed me, didn't ya?"

Freed had. They'd played a game, and Freed had lost. As victor, Laxus had trapped Freed's cock in spiked chastity for his ten-day mission. On the ninth day, Freed had used the emergency key to free himself, knowing that Laxus would be alerted the second he did. He jerked his cock on fantasies of Laxus' punishment. When Laxus had returned home, he kissed Freed hard, pinned him against the wall, and said Freed had twenty-four hours before he would be punished, to think about what he had done.

"You were thinking with this thing," Laxus grabbed the shaft of Freed's cock and pulled. Freed's shoulders ached as he was tugged forwards. "Wanted to empty your balls more than you wanted to follow my order. Didn't ya?"

Freed nodded, his gag warping the words 'yes sir' beyond comprehension.

"Three days when you should've been locked up and you weren't," Laxus tutted. His hand released Freed's cock, letting him swing in his chains. With his thumb and forefinger, Laxus began to play with one of his balls. "Three hits make sense, right? Nice act of karma, huh?"

Eyes widening behind the mask, Freed could only dread what was to come. He heard fabric rustling, knowing that Laxus was getting down to one knee. Freed's entire body was tense, and he knew Laxus would be smirking that sadist's smirk of his, knowing how Freed was fizzing with anxiety and anticipation. He could feel his heart hammering, his blood pumping, mind whirling.

With rampant cruelty, Laxus punched Freed in the balls.

Freed yelled into the gag, wanting to crumple up and protect himself, but the chains forbade him. He swung limply, tears pricking, agony going through him. He knew Laxus would be laughing at him, loving his pain. He could do nothing be accept it.

Another punch came and Freed all but screamed. The pain was hell. His balls were in agony. He was in a hellish heaven.

The third and final punch was the strongest of the lot, with no force held back. Freed clenched his entire body, abs flexing, teeth grinding into the gag, toes curling and shoulders scrunching.

As he limply swung, Freed felt the heat of Laxus' body getting closer. He placed a hand on Freed's cheek, cupping it in a manner that might seem gentle if Freed didn't know better. "That hurt, huh?" Laxus taunted, and Freed played his role with a pathetically weak nod. Laxus gave him a firm slap across the face. "Fuck you for thinking I owe you sympathy."

A gargled mess of sounds, meant to be 'I'm sorry sir', came through the gag.

Laxus didn't say anything for a moment, and when he did, he was on the far side of the room. The tool bench. Inspecting his instruments of torture. Freed's cock jerked and leaked and the promised pain.

"You ain't subtle, y'know," Laxus hummed, something rattling as he moved. "Setting up that bet, being a fucking brat like I wouldn't pick up on it, then losing on purpose. Pretty obvious you wanted me to lock you up."

The sound of something sharp thwipping through the air made Freed flinch.

"So, it's weird that you couldn't last the full time in the cage, ain't it," Laxus' voice was closer now. Freed let out a wavy breath. "So, I can only guess that you wanted the punishment, right?"

Freed nodded. He did. He needed this pain.

"Then let's make sure you really learn your lesson, y' fucking little slut," Laxus growled.

Without warning nor preamble, Laxus slammed his clenched fist into Freed's stomach, vicious and unrelenting. Freed coughed into the gag, abs flexing and contracting as pain danced through them. It was a nasty sucker punch, and one he was sure Laxus had felt tingling down his spine. Freed could have cum just from the brutality of it, and his coughing gave way for needy moans.

The sound of something thin and sharp cut through the air again, closer this time. It circled him. Laxus was signifying where he was. Behind him, with the cane in hand and ready to use. The cane, made from bamboo and knotted in places, was the most devastating whipper they had.

Three quick strikes hit the back of his thighs, and his scream of agony sent slobber around his gag. Laxus didn't relent, hitting again and again, up and down the back of Freed's thighs. Freed could do nothing but pathetically struggle against his chains, helpless and needy and loving the torture his husband inflicted. Every hit was perfection, every blister a kiss, every laugh a declaration of Laxus' love.

Fuck, Freed loved it when Laxus was his truly sadistic self.

This hurt in all the best ways. The addiction to pain was something Freed adored. He loved the helplessness. The mindlessness. The overwhelming feeling of skin breaking under his lover's torment. This was scratching the itch. The itch that was always there, taunting him to claw and rip at his own skin, to feel pain. To feel alive. To be good. To be beaten and bruised. To be alive in a way a man only can when he's in true euphoric agony.

"Fuck, look at your cock," Laxus taunted. "How the hell you enjoy this I'll never get. Fucking creep."

A hack of spit hit Freed directly on the face, sliding down his tear and sweat slicked skin and sliding under the gag. He tried to swallow it. Tried to ingest the subjugation. Tried to prove that, even with whatever tiny scraps of freedom left over, he would bend the knee to his dominant's mercy.

"Pervert," Laxus snapped. "Fucking revolting how you're enjoying this."

Freed nodded, and Laxus punched him in the gut again. Every muscle tensed in explicit awfulness that had his cock leaking and juddering. He could cum like this so easily. He could let the feeling take over and just feel wonderful. But Laxus hadn't allowed it, so he clenched everything, strong muscle contracting all over his body. He felt as much as heard Laxus laugh.

"Getting close huh?" He taunted. "Lemme guess. You want me to fuck you, right? Nice and hard. Nice and rough. With how you took the punches, you're really into the pain today. Bet you don't even want lube, do ya?"

Freed shook his head.

"You think you can take twenty canes to the ass without crying?" Laxus all but cooed, stroking the cane over Freed's pert ass. Freed took a second before shaking his head no again. "Then let's give ya thirty, so yer fucking weeping."

Eyes wide, Freed tried to swallow his nerves and his spit. He'd never had thirty before. It was an intoxicating promise.

"Count 'em out for me," Laxus demanded, and Freed gave a weak nod

The first hit was terrible. It struck dead on, sending fire through his nerves. The blistering was brutal, and Freed found himself limbless at its mercy, ass yearning for more. He garbled out the number one. Laxus gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder to praise him, before the next excruciating whip of the cane hit his ass.

Hit after hit came, each worse than the last. It was blistering and brutal, and the torment of being held to account in counting out the hits only added to the overwhelming perfect misery. He was limp in his chains, no longer fighting it anymore. The pain was all there was. The promise of more. The lingering hell of the previous. The tantalising threat of being rough fucked while raw and bleeding. God, he was being treated tonight. Treated terribly and exactly as he wanted.

At some point, his mind went blank. There was the hit, the number, and the anticipation. No more. No less. Just his own personal hell.

"Thirty." Freed croaked out over the gag, and Laxus gave him a slap on the back.

"Good boy," Laxus praised, kissing Freed below his obstructed eyes. "Gonna have to wring out that gag you cried so much. Hot as fuck."

Freed bloomed at the kind words, but knew venom would soon follow in some way. He focused on getting his footing as he heard Laxus at the tool table, his ass stinging raw and small drops of blood sliding down his legs as he did it. He wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for weeks – Laxus had made sure of it – and he knew that Laxus would be making the most of that.

His cock was taken in an unkind, warm hand without warning. Something chillingly cold was forced down his dick, then clamped around his sac. The moment he realised what it was, he tried to argue. A cock ring! Laxus was forbidding him from cumming after all of this!

"You better not be fucking arguing," Laxus snapped, voice very close. Freed could feel hot breath on his face. "You owed me ten straight days of chastity and I didn't get it. The second I say we're done here, you're gonna find a way to get your cock soft without feeling good about it, and you're going back in a cage. And until you've given me my ten unbroken days, you ain't fucking cumming."

Freed wanted to argue, but the weight of Laxus' glare bore heavy even though he couldn't see it. He gave the weakest, smallest nod he could.

A clunk came from above, and Freed felt the shackles around his wrists fall loose. His arms fell immediately, weak and limp and useless. As blood flowed back to them, he felt Laxus unlocking the spreader bar that kept his legs apart. He stepped out of the binds when Laxus prompted,

He was given a moment to let his limbs come back to life, but the second they were, Laxus planted a heavy hand on Freed's neck and guided him to another part of the room. Something hard and textured hit his waist. The sturdy, wooden pommel horse. Laxus pushed hard on Freed's neck, bending him over at a ninety-degree angle, kicking his ankles apart and spreading him fully.

Laxus slid his zipper down, and Freed groaned.

Fuck, the image of the two of them was enough to drive a man crazy. Laxus, in his best suit – the same damn suit he wore to parties and guild events that required formality – and Freed naked, bleeding, bruised and bent over. The man in charge, and his plaything. Nothing could be better.

With heavy weight, Laxus dropped his cock into the crease of Freed's ass. The thick monster of a thing rubbed gently, tauntingly, with every shift of movement Laxus made.

Not affording Freed a warning, Laxus positioned himself at Freed's hole. He took no time nor mercy. He plunged in, splitting Freed apart and sending roaring torment through his bruised and battered body. Laxus' hips rutted against the blisters and cuts from the cane, stinging pressure almost relieving from the stretch of his unprepared ass. He screamed into his gag, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Laxus grabbed his hair and pulled.

The fucking was brutal in all senses of the word. Fast. Inelegant. Nasty. Endless. Slaps all over Freed's body accompanied the thrusts, and more than once Laxus spat on Freed just because he could.

Freed felt on the edge of cumming, and it was a tortuous edging. He wanted the pleasure. He had warned it. He needed it. He would get it. But Laxus wouldn't let him. The cock ring wouldn't let him. Laxus said no, and Freed would have to deal with it. All he could do was scream and moan and write and buck into Laxus' powerful, endless, horrible, wonderful fucking.

"Fuck!" Laxus yelled with sudden ferocity. "Fuuuck!"

The hand in Freed's hair tightened its grip. Laxus fucked his dick as deep as it would go, pushing against Freed's devastated ass. Cum shot deep inside of him, spilling out and mingling with the spots of blood, leaving him well and truly fucked.

Hopelessly, Freed knew the night was done. Laxus had hurt him, and had his own pleasure. He needed nothing more. Certainly not Freed's orgasm.

Laxus pulled out with the same care he'd given Freed through the night, leaving him empty and shuddering. He gave Freed a sharp slap on his aching ass, and Freed could do nothing but whine. He heard Laxus dip a cloth into water and wipe himself clean. He didn't clean up Freed. That would be too kind, and Laxus wasn't in a kind mood. Once the telltale sound of a zipper echoed through the quiet, Laxus walked to Freed, who hadn't dared moved from the pommel horse.

"You remember what I said?" Laxus asked, sliding the cock ring off Freed's dick. "You don't get to cum." He removed the gag. "If you do, I'll fuck you rougher than I just did, in the middle of the goddamn guildhall." He ripped the blindfold off, and Freed had to blink to adjust to the light. "You ain't leaving this room until you're locked up again, then you come to me for inspection."

Another slap to his raw ass was Freed's dismissal, and he looked to his side, where a new chastity cage was waiting for him. Tiny, with screws meant to cause his dick agony, and made of cold metal.

The ultimate punishment.

It was exactly what he needed and deserved.

[theswordwrites]

PART FOUR (the alchemy)

Juniper and Aemond go on their first date.

tw: literally nothing. low-key fluff.

word count: 3.1k

Ten minutes into dinner, Juniper Greyson had a realization.

She hadn’t been on a date in a long time.

Like, years.

Oliver had been… fine, she supposed. But their “dates” always involved the greasy pizza place across from his apartment— where the lighting was too bright, and the chairs wobbled like sad, forgotten carnival rides. He never picked her up, never held the door open, and he certainly never did anything that made her feel like someone worth dressing up for.

Aemond, on the other hand, had done all of that.

(Okay, technically, his driver had picked her up—but he’d been polite, and the car smelled like leather and money, which, honestly, counted.)

Now she was sitting across from Aemond Targaryen—a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a luxury magazine spread. Charcoal-gray pants, crisp white button-up rolled to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms catching her eye for far too long. She kept sneaking glances, hoping he wouldn’t notice. His hair was just a little messy, like he’d spent the whole day running his fingers through it, and the sight made her throat go dry.

He was handsome—obnoxiously so. That was her first mistake. Realizing it.

Her second mistake was lingering on the thought. She cleared her throat, as if that would somehow chase it away.

The restaurant was elegant, bathed in warm, golden light that softened every shadow, casting a refined glow over everything. Chandeliers hung like delicate sculptures, and each table held a single votive candle, its flame flickering quietly in the subdued atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of truffle oil and roasted garlic, while the gentle murmur of conversation and faint strains of jazz from a live pianist drifted through the room.

Aemond, meanwhile, seemed perfectly at ease, thumbing through the menu like this was just another night.

Without looking up, he broke the silence. “So… what do people usually talk about on these things? The weather?”

June let out an involuntary huff of a laugh, the sound louder than she intended.

“Oh, yeah. Small talk is definitely still in fashion,” she quipped, a bit too fast. Her voice pitched higher than usual, and she cringed internally.

June felt her palms sweating, fingers fiddling with the napkin in her lap. As Aemond smoothly gestured for the waiter, ordering in a low, confident voice, she realized she hadn’t even looked at the menu. When it was her turn to speak, she felt the pressure of his eyes on her.

"Uh, I’ll have the… pasta?" she stammered, feeling ridiculous the second the words left her mouth. The waiter didn’t even blink, but Aemond smiled—soft, like he didn’t mind her awkwardness.

"The one the chef took off the menu last month, with the capers.” He said to the waiter, leaning back in his chair, perfectly at ease. "It’s one of their best dishes."

June gave a small nod, her heart hammering as she forced a smile. Of course he was calm. And of course he knew the chef. He probably did this kind of thing all the time. Meanwhile, she was struggling to keep her voice steady, hoping her nerves didn’t show as much as she feared.

Aemond’s lips twitched, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me about yourself.”

He glanced up from his glass, peering through his lashes in a way that felt unfairly intentional. June’s heart did a weird little stutter, and she scrambled to find something—anything—normal to say.

“Uh…” She stalled, feeling her brain short-circuit. “I grew up in the North. I moved here for school and, um, after I finished my first degree, I decided to stay for my PhD.”

She finished with a tight smile, hoping that would be enough. Aemond gave her a look—just the slightest raise of his brow. Not unkind, but definitely a little amused. It was the kind of look that said, That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?

June’s cheeks burned under his gaze.

“Okay, uh… I have a cat,” she added, grasping at straws. “Her name’s Florence, but I just call her Flo. She’s orange. And, um… perfect.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth. Perfect? Why had she said perfect?

Aemond nodded, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Cats usually are.”

June bit the inside of her cheek, desperate to keep herself from spiraling further into awkwardness.

“What about your family?” Aemond asked, smoothly shifting the conversation.

“Oh.” She exhaled, grateful for the change of topic, but the question wasn’t exactly easy to answer.

“It’s just my mom now. She’s great. A little… overbearing sometimes.” She tried to keep her tone light, but the word now hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.

Aemond’s gaze flickered with something—understanding, maybe—but he didn’t press.

“Do you get to see her often?”

“Often enough,” June replied, forcing a smile. “I try to go home every few months. And she visits in the summer. It’s… nice.”

Her hands twisted in her lap beneath the table and her fingers fiddling with the hem of her napkin, mustering the courage to ask, “What about your family?

Aemond’s lips curled slightly. “Why don’t you tell me more about your mother first?”

June blinked, thrown off for a second. “I already told you about her.”

He raised a brow. “I want details. What does she think about Flo?”

June laughed, feeling the tension dissolve just a little. “Oh, she adores Flo. Sometimes I think she likes her more than me. She sends me little care packages with toys and treats. I think she really just wants grandchildren.”

She didn’t miss the way he steered the conversation back to her, avoiding the topic of his family completely. But, he hadn’t pressed her earlier, so she wouldn’t either.

Another waiter came with wine, pouring it into both of their cups quietly. June noticed how the young man's eyes darted between Aemond and her—surely recognizing them.

After the waiter turned away, Aemond continued with his questions. “Is that something you want? Kids?”

The question hit her like a stray gust of wind—unexpected and weirdly personal. She almost choked on her sip but managed to swallow it down, wide-eyed.

“Uh…” She wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin, stalling for time. “That’s… kind of a big question for a first date.

Aemond gave a small, nonchalant shrug, as if he’d asked her opinion on the weather. “Maybe. But it’s a valid one.”

“Sure,” she said, dragging the word out. “But most people ease into that kind of thing.”

He leaned back, his expression calm but curious, like he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily.

June fumbled for a response. “I mean, I think I do. Someday. Probably. If the circumstances were right.”

Aemond’s gaze sharpened slightly, though his tone remained measured. “And what would ‘right circumstances’ look like?”

Oh my god, June thought, why is this happening right now?

“I don’t know.” She tried to laugh, but it came out more like a nervous puff of air. “A stable job. A house that isn’t held together by duct tape. A partner who can… I don’t know, keep a plant alive?”

Aemond smirked at that. “So, not high standards then.”

June rolled her eyes. “Hey, keeping a plant alive is harder than it sounds.”

Aemond gave a soft hum, as if he were filing that away for later. “I’ve always thought about it,” he said, his voice quieter this time.

June blinked. “Really?”

He nodded, swirling his glass of wine absently. “Not often. But… it crosses my mind every now and then.”

She tilted her head. “What, like having a bunch of kids running around?”

Aemond’s lips quirked in a dry half-smile. “Not exactly. Just one, maybe two.” He paused, glancing down at his wine for a beat before adding, “I’d want to do it better than it was done for me.”

That last sentence hung in the air between them, heavier than June had expected. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” Aemond muttered, shifting in his seat as if he’d given away more than he intended. “That was probably… too much.”

“No, it’s okay.” June shook her head quickly. “I get it. Kind of.” She fiddled with the stem of her glass. “I think that’s why it’s hard for me to picture it. I mean… what if you screw it up, right?”

Aemond met her gaze again, and there was a flicker of understanding in his eye—something unspoken but mutual.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Exactly.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but thoughtful, almost heavy with things neither of them knew how to say.

Then, because June could never leave well enough alone, she blurted, “So, what’s your hypothetical kid’s name?”

Aemond gave her a look—half amused, half exasperated. “Seriously?”

She grinned, the awkwardness lifting just slightly. “Yeah. You brought it up, so now you have to answer.”

Aemond exhaled a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “I have no idea.”

“C’mon,” June pressed. “First thing that comes to mind.”

“…Eleanor,” he said dryly.

June softened at that. “That’s quite endearing.”

Aemond rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “What about you, then? What would your kid be named?”

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin theatrically. “I think… something ridiculous. Like Augustus. Or Clementine.”

Aemond shook his head, lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Your poor child.”

June grinned, feeling a little more at ease now, like they’d stumbled into something unexpectedly comfortable.

“Hey,” she said playfully. “If I ever have a Clementine, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Aemond raised his glass in a mock toast. “I’ll hold you to that.”

June could have sighed in relief. This wasn’t as difficult as she had anticipated. She didn’t have to fake her smiles or laughter—those were genuine. The banter was enjoyable, even fun.

Their food arrived soon after, and they continued their conversation. The dish Aemond had chosen for her was perfect, and she could see the smug satisfaction on his face. She lit up at his questions about her dissertation, eagerly explaining the intricacies of the depiction of women in early Westerosi art. They discovered they shared a taste for classic literature and poetry. She opted not to mention her recent binge on fantasy novels so steamy they made her sweat.

Aemond laughed softly at her jokes, and though it was a quiet sound, it felt like a victory.

The evening slipped away faster than June expected. She watched as Aemond finished signing the check with a flourish, his movements practiced and efficient, and she tried to ignore the strange twist in her stomach at the sight.

As they left the restaurant, Aemond smoothly extended his arm to her. It was such a gentlemanly gesture, so perfectly fitting for someone like him. June hesitated, staring at his arm as if it were an alien concept, before awkwardly looping hers through it.

He glanced down at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "You don’t have to act like I’m a stranger," he teased lightly. "I don’t bite."

She laughed nervously, her pulse racing at the warmth of his arm beneath her hand. "Sorry, I just… I’m not used to this," she admitted.

"Used to what?" he asked, his voice smooth and calm.

“Being wined and dined.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice so no one else would hear.

He simply smiled down at her. “Well, you might have to get used to those things. In fact, I believe you are contractually obligated.”

She just hummed as he opened the car door for her, before sliding in after her.

The ride home was quiet at first. The sleek, black leather interior of the car smelled faintly of cedar and the warm, lingering cologne Aemond wore, which only served to keep her uncomfortably aware of his presence beside her. Her fingers toyed with her purse strap, the weight of the night pressing down on her in a way she couldn’t quite shake.

She quietly asked, “Do you think there are any cameras?”

Aemond shook his head, “No. Criston and his team came through before we did. And there won’t be any photos from the restaurant either. Maybe a gossip blog will pick up a tip, but no photo evidence.”

“This was more for us—” He said, gazing down at her, “To get to know one another. Get more comfortable. I don’t want to throw you in the deep end.”

The words and give you another chance to pull out of the deal were left unsaid.

June found it endearing and it wasn’t the first time that night. She glanced out the window, the city lights casting a soft, golden glow over the street as they drove through the heart of the city. Even through the glass, she could feel the faint thrum of the music spilling out from late-night bars and restaurants, laughter and voices blending into an ambient hum. But here, in the car, everything was calm and still, broken only by the quiet hum of the engine.

As if sensing her thoughts, Aemond finally spoke. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

The question was simple enough, but there was something in his tone—a genuine curiosity that made her feel oddly vulnerable. She could feel his gaze on her, gentle yet piercing, and she forced herself to look over at him.

“Yes,” she replied softly, offering him a small, honest smile. “It was… different.”

He tilted his head, an amused glint in his eye. “Different, how?”

She laughed, feeling the tension in her chest ease just a little. “In a good way. Just… different from what I’m used to.”

Aemond gave a slight nod, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of satisfaction in his expression, as if her answer meant more to him than he let on. The shadows of the city lights flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw and the way his eyes seemed to soften when he looked at her.

It felt like they were the only two people in the world, isolated in this small bubble of warmth and quiet, shielded from the bustling world outside. The quiet intimacy of it made her heart race in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

“What did you expect?” he asked, his voice low and steady, almost a whisper in the dim light.

She shrugged, glancing down at her hands. “I don’t know. It’s… hard to explain.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I guess I didn’t expect it to feel… easy.”

He raised an eyebrow, an unreadable expression on his face. “Easy?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like… even though we don’t know each other that well, it wasn’t… uncomfortable.”

She felt her cheeks heat up, and she quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush of color creeping up her neck. But Aemond, of course, noticed everything.

“It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost reassuring. There was a gentleness in his voice that caught her off guard, like he was offering her something—some small reassurance she hadn’t even realized she wanted.

They fell into silence again, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between them. Outside, the cityscape shifted, the bright lights of downtown fading into quieter, dimly-lit streets as they neared her apartment. She watched the familiar landmarks pass by, feeling the weight of reality settle back in as the night slowly came to an end. But she couldn’t shake the strange, lingering warmth that had taken root in her chest, an unfamiliar sensation that left her feeling both vulnerable and strangely alive.

As the car pulled to a stop, June found herself glancing at her building, the familiar red door standing out against the muted colors of the night. Aemond was already out of the car, and when he opened her door, offering his hand, she felt that warm jolt of surprise again, like the evening itself had granted her permission to lean just a bit closer.

“Let me walk you up,” he said, his voice soft but steady. There was something almost old-fashioned in the gesture, and she smiled, falling into step beside him as they walked toward her door. They moved slowly, their steps echoing in the quiet street. The air between them was charged with an unspoken tension, each step bringing them closer to a goodbye she suddenly felt reluctant to say. She’d barely registered that they were standing in front of her door before she looked up at him, taking in the sharp lines of his face, softened by the night.

“Would you…” she hesitated, hearing the words form before she could reconsider. “Would you like to come in? I could introduce you to Flo. She’s probably waiting by the door.”

For a brief second, Aemond didn’t answer, and she could almost imagine a yes, imagine what it would feel like to sit across from him, this time in her space. But then his gaze softened, and he shook his head, just slightly.

“I’d like that,” he said, his tone quiet, almost regretful. “But I should head back to the office. Still have work waiting for me.”

It was the kind of gentle refusal that reminded her, as gently as possible, of what this really was. The warmth she’d felt was quickly cooling, and she managed a nod, forcing her disappointment to stay below the surface.

“Oh—of course,” she said, straightening. “Maybe next time.” She offered a small, polite smile, the one she used when she needed to keep her guard up, and he gave a faint nod, his face unreadable once more. She half-expected him to just turn and go, but he surprised her, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering.

“Goodnight, June,” he said, his words lingering in the stillness between them. “I’ll see you soon.”

With a final, fleeting glance, he turned, his footsteps quiet as he disappeared back into the night. She watched him go, feeling the chill of the evening creep in around her, the gentle reminder of boundaries settling back into place. As she turned her key in the lock, stepping into her empty apartment, she could feel herself slipping back into the reality of the arrangement.

The evening felt like a dream that had ended too soon, leaving her alone with the quiet and the small ache of what was almost—almost—something more.

this is an insanely late update, midterms kicked my ass! i had fun playing with their conversation and I hope you had fun reading! lmk your thoughts!

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART ELEVEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: You try to figure out your feelings for Jack and realize it's not a smart move to do so while drunk and flirting with him, when he thinks things are improving, he gets a harsh evidence things aren't just as easy as he thought

(this is the eleventh chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO TEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, more fluff because Wyatt is the sweetest kid in the world, bitchy mother-in-law, angst, sad!jack, mom!reader

A/N: Hi besties, I know it's been a while since we've seen our cowboy, and well, I hope you enjoy it!!! I know I did because I can't resist this mf, he's just perfect even if he's a broken sad cowboy 😭🤠

4k words

Jack's heart was beating probably too fast in his chest, it hammered against his rib cage but he didn't care. He was feeling like a million bucks, as he was finally getting some crumbles of your love. Nothing more than crumbles, but it was already enough for him, better than suffering with your despise and indifference. In a short span of minutes you two had almost kissed - if it weren't for his former mother-in-law, and you had also referred to Wyatt as your son. Your as in him and yours, and that couldn't make him happier at that moment, it might have seemed something small, but it made the difference in that cowboy's old broken heart, it was like the walls you built were falling down and that he could approach you, even if it wasn't in a romantic way, he still felt satisfied to be around you as friends, at least he could talk to you without having to break the ice all the time, he touch you - small hugs, occasional hand holding - and though he yearned for more, it was the best he would get after everything he'd done, so it was good, he'd rather torture himself by having his family close without actually being able to claim them as his, than suffer completely alone like he'd done for the past years.

He smiled at you, seeing how your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol and patted his pocket finally finding the car keys and handing them to you 

"Go ahead sugar, you're less drunk than I am, you should be driving" he winked at you and chuckled as you widened your eyes the moment you grabbed the Bronco keys. Ever since you first started dating Jack, you dreamed of driving his Bronco, but as the cocky asshole he often was, he never let you - or anyone else really - drive his car. There were some things Jack was just so territorial and wouldn't let anyone to lie their hands on, and well, you were also one of those things once. Jack was possessive of you, he liked showing people you were his and just his, the way he would hold you, kiss you and make everyone else see who you belonged to. 

And in your drunken state as you two exited the bar, you kinda wished Jack would do it again. Just a few minutes ago you were about to kiss each other and now he watched you, and you watched him back, staring into his eyes, getting lost in them, and taking a real look at your Jack…. He was so handsome, his beautiful side profile was enough to make you weak at the knees, his sharp jawline always so smooth as he kept his beard shaved and his mustache trimmed. Any other man would look stupid with Jack's looks, but your cowboy… he was something else. 

"What?" He asked you, grinning with that devilish smile as you wouldn't stop staring 

"I-" you began to talk but you had a better idea - well, not really a better idea, rather a drunk idea - and took the hat off his head, chuckling at how cute his messy hair looked and put it on your head. 

Jack was shocked for a split second. Were you flirting with him? 

"Did you forget about the cowboy hat rule, sugar?" He raised his eyebrow at you and before you could answer, you tripped and nearly fell, but Jack immediately wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. Maybe you weren't less drunk than he was after all, so it was safer if you two just got a cab to your mom's.

Leaving the bar and waiting for a cab on the sidewalk wasn't the greatest idea either, the wind was howling and you were shivering, and both you and Jack knew that if it weren't for Wyatt, the wisest option would be getting a fancy hotel room and spending the night. 

If you hadn't drunk as much as you did that night, you would be probably censoring yourself for having those shameless thoughts about him, giggling at the shit he said, pretending you didn't notice you were still clinging to him even after you got your balance back, after all, you were wearing his hat, for crying out loud! He was the same man who didn't accept your pregnancy, that kicked you out of your home and abandoned you to raise your baby alone, and once he came back, he just brought chaos back into your life, for several times he'd hurt you, told you cruel things and even threatened to take your son away from you. It was so wrong to behave like that, and a part of your brain kept repeating that over and over, while the other part seemed to only listen to your heart, taking you back to your sweetest and hottest memories you had shared at that same bar and in those hotel rooms.It would be easier if you could just blame it on the booze, as if having a few too many changed everything about your personality and made you forget about all the pain Jack caused you. But at the same time, it felt like you were in the presence of your Jack, the cowboy you loved, the one that was so sweet, flirty and gentle with you. The man that was a little cocky at first but he also made you feel like the only girl in the world, the one who would ravish you in bed and make your legs shake but would also hold you and cuddle you until you fell asleep. You two had an awkward encounter at first, you went on a date with your new boyfriend and Jack was waiting for his own date, you'd been so jealous of him and if you wondered if he'd been jealous of you, now you were sure of it, and that made you feel pretty good about yourself. 

Perhaps it was the way Jack was humiliated by the girl he was supposed to have a date with, the one that revealed herself to be another agent and nothing more, or maybe how he was so honest about the disaster he called his last mission and how things escalated from a fun, drunk conversation, into a confession of dark thoughts Jack didn't have the courage to share with anyone, not even his therapist. All that helped you to see your sweet old cowboy in those man's cold eyes, and when you stared into them, you realized they weren't cold anymore, they were warm and soft and that was when you were sure your Jack was back. 

ou were just so tired of restricting yourself all the time, you were also tired of people restricting you as well, always talking about how bad Jack Daniels was and how you shouldn't let him in. It was your mom, your friends, even Frankie had told you Jack was a dick, and though you knew they were all correct, you felt tired of being reminded of that the entire time, at least your own thoughts were private and in them you could allow yourself to surrender completely to your cowboy, because God knew that if he tried to make any move on you, you'd let him. 

Instead, you felt when his suit jacket was placed over your shoulders and he smiled down at you "don't want you to freeze, sugar" he winked as now you were wearing his jacket, his hat and you kept your arm wrapped tight around his waist, and you felt lucky that despite everything, Jack was still a gentleman, because any other guy would have interpreted all those signs wrong - actually correct, because you did want it - but he knew you'd had too much alcohol for that, even if he knew that once you sobered up he would've missed his chance of having you again. 

He opened the door so you would get in the cab and immediately joined you, giving your mother's address to the driver. You smiled and decided you wouldn't fight your urges, not that night, feeling safe knowing Jack would respect your boundaries and you wouldn't do anything that would hurt your boyfriend - that's what you told yourself at least - and as soon as Jack sat next to you, you wrapped your arm around him and rested against his chest. You were aware of how ridiculous you probably looked, a cowboy hat, a jacket that was way too big for you, and snuggling the man you swore you hated just a day before. Jack was caught by surprise, but smiled softly as he wrapped his arm around your body, stroking your back up and down. 

"Sugar, I was thinking about our little boy's birthday, and I would like to throw him a party on our ranch" he cleared his throat "well, my ranch, but it's gonna be yours too one day, you know, when I-" 

"Don't say that Jack" you asked him, looking into his eyes, "please… I have something to ask you" you bit your lips 

"Anything you want, sugar" 

"Don't kill yourself on another mission, Jack, please. You have our son, and our son needs his daddy too" 

Jack's heart melted at your lovely words, he'd longed to be accepted into the family just like that and now it was finally happening. 

"I won't, sugar… I got our family to take care of, even if you don't want me, you're still my responsibility and I'll make sure you're safe" his hand went for your face caressing your soft skin so gently, appreciating how it felt under his rough fingertips, you closed your eyes, leaning towards his touch and gently placing your lips on his chin, as you spread a trail of soft kisses all over his jawline before getting to his lips. Jack's breath got caught in his chest, his body overflowing with love as his hands squeezed you tighter against him, getting ready to deepen the kiss when the driver suddenly pulled up the car. 

"We're here" the man announced which quickly snapped the two of you out of the haze you were both deep into. 

You cleared your throat and blushed and Jack licked his lips, getting his wallet and paying for the ride. 

He helped out of the car and kept his hand on the small of your back, escorting you, like the southern gentleman he was. You two entered the building and took the elevator and suddenly you could see Jack tensing up. It was no secret your mom hated him, from the very beginning, even before things went to shit between the two of you. There was something she just couldn't stand about him, maybe the fact he was older, or that he'd been married before, or his manners - despite the fact Jack was a polite man, she still didn't think it was enough. She couldn't stand him and he reciprocated the feeling. During his first marriage, he could never understand all those mother-in-law jokes and why people often said they were as bad as they often did. His first wife's mom was a delight, a sweet woman who treated Jack like a son.

No wonder he kept in touch with her through all the years after his sweetheart passed away, until her lovely mother joined her beloved daughter in heaven; but it was your mom that made Jack learn why so many people talked about mother-in-laws in such a derogatory way. She hated Jack, she did from the start, and he had no other option than to accept and try his hardest to ignore her constant offenses and provocations. So now, he didn't even want to think of what your mom thought of him after Wyatt was born. 

As if you read Jack's thoughts, you touched his cheek, making him look at you 

"It's alright cowboy, if she starts acting out, we'll just leave, don't worry" you assured him and took a deep breath and got yourself back together as the doors opened and you walked to your mom's apartment. 

She'd left the door unlocked - something Whiskey strongly disapproved of for safety matters, of course, after all he was an agent and knew people should be way more careful than they were - and the two of you walked inside. Your mom had Wyatt on her lap, he sniffed as she tried wiping his tears, but his teary eyes were enough evidence she wasn't able to succeed.

"What happened baby?" You rushed to him, a sad expression immediately took your face as your heart tightened in your chest to see your little boy so upset. Wyatt jumped off his grandma's lap, widening eyes and a growing smile on his handsome little face

"Mama! Dada!" He squealed happily and ran towards you and Jack, who knelt just beside you and also opened his arms to welcome him. Wyatt ran to the two of you, feeling the warmth of the safety in being with both his parents, snuggling you both as best as his little arms could reach before looking at you with amusement and adoration at the sight of you with the hat on "cowboy hat mama! Like dada and mine!" He said happily and pointed at the stetson you'd stolen from Jack and grabbed it, placing it on your son's head seeing the happiness in his little eyes.

Jack chuckled and picked him up "well it ain't my favorite little cowboy?" He felt the way Wyatt's arms wrapped around his neck and his heart broke a little to think he could have that every day after coming back from work "were you nice to grandma?" Wyatt saw as his dada raised his eyebrow and immediately nodded, he had behaved well even if grandma's house wasn't fun. Whiskey smiled and tickled his tummy, earning the most lovely giggles from his little boy. 

Your mom shot you the dirtiest look the moment she caught Jack walking into the apartment, but you couldn't care less about it, so you turned your back to her and gave your son attention. 

"What happened to you, love? Grandma said you were upset?" You tilted your head curious to know what could've possibly bothered your son. 

Wyatt looked down and then at his grandma again, unsure if he should say anything at all or not. Jack gently wiped a single tear that ran down his son's beautiful face "it's okay Wyatt, sometimes cowboys get sad too, it ain't a shame to cry, but we can't make our mamas worried, cowboy mamas don't like to be worried about their little cowboys…" he tried reasoning his son, who let out a small giggle at his dad's fun words. 

"Bad dweam mama. Mama was gone and dada was gone" he explained "told gwandma but gwandma said I have no dada because dada no wove Wyatt" 

Jack closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying his best to keep his anger in check, as he shot daggers at his former mother-in-law. He couldn't believe that old bitch had the nerve to say that. Yes, Jack had been a shitty father for the first years of his son's life, but he was back in the picture and there wasn't anyone that old broken cowboy loved more than his son, and his son's mother.

He gently held his son's chin, finding fascinating the contrast between his big, calloused hands on his son's perfect, small face. Jack's thumb stroked his cheek 

"Your dada loves you very much Wyatt. More than anything in the world, and I know I wasn't around for you and mama and that made mama sad, but I'll always be with you two" he pecked his son's forehead and threw his small blanket over his back. Jack's arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer "let's get the two of you home" he informed, ignoring your mom who was speechless to see you so cozy next to him. Wyatt snuggled his dad's neck and closed his eyes, his heart was warm with love and reassurance. 

                         •••

As the three of you walked into your apartment, Wyatt was deeply asleep in his father's arms. You smiled to see how Wyatt still his jammies under the blanket and how quick he was able to calm down thanks to Jack. He followed your instructions to tuck Wyatt in and as soon as he came back, with his stetson in hands, you handed him a glass of water "I'm really sorry about my mom… I didn't know she would say something like that. She doesn't like you obviously, but we just always avoided talking about a father figure to Wyatt so we wouldn't break his little heart" Jack nodded in silence "I told her you were back in the picture and that you and I were working to be on good terms, you know, co-parent and be friends… She said it was a bad idea but didn't say anything else, I just didn't think she would be mean to the point of telling her own grandson this shit" you sniffed and Jack pulled you into a tight hug. His hands ran up and down your back, resting his chin on your head 

"It's alright sugar, none of this is your fault. You've been perfect from day one. You've been perfect to me and you were the best girlfriend in the world and you would've been the best wife too, if I hadn't screwed things up… I was so scared, I know it doesn't justify and it never will, but I was scared of trying to build a family and losing it like the first time. I was so deep in my own fears that I hadn't realized I was about to make the worst mistake of my life. I'm really sorry I did this to you, because you had nothing but love to offer me, while I offered you the second place because I was too blind by my grief, but now I see, now that I'm going to therapy, that I'm trying to fix myself, I see that I was scared of letting go of her, of her memory, I was scared I was going to betray her. Until I finally saw that was madness, sugar, because she is gone, she's a beautiful memory and I'll always carry her and our son in a part of my heart, but they belong in the past. I see now you're the love of my life, you've always been, I was just too blind to see it, and I lost you, but I promise I won't grieve you, I'll be here, strong and alive for you and Wyatt, if there's ever a chance of a future with you, even if all I get is visiting on weekends I'll still take it. Nothing will ever change the monstrous thing I did to you, but I want you to know I regret it for the rest of my life" 

Your breath was shaking as you look up at him, you could feel the emotion in his voice, the truth in them and the tears in his eyes. 

"Stay tonight Jack, please… not to have sex, but I want you here" it was all you could offer him and it was already a big deal, the two of you knew it and he only nodded happily, his hand caressing your skin.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me sugar…"

                            •••

In the early morning, you woke up to find yourself alone in bed. Jack took his southern manners to the letter and after you fell asleep in his arms, he changed to the couch, so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable. You sighed as your head pounded after drinking so hard the night before, sighing as you remembered everything that went on. The things you shouldn't have done, for example flirt with your ex the whole time, kiss him and wearing his hat and especially ask him to stay the night, because now you'd have to deal with the fact the man was humming happily in your kitchen making you breakfast as a loving husband would. 

You got out of bed and groaned in pain once more, cursing under your breath as you spotted a glass of water and an aspirin. Fuck, Jack was making it very hard for you to hate him. 

The man, on the other hand, was pouring his heart into the meal he was preparing. There were two things little Jack Daniela learned from his mama: breakfast was the most important meal of the day and that the best ingredient one could add is love.

The moment he saw you walking inside the kitchen, his face lit up, glad to know Wyatt was still deeply asleep, so he would have some time alone with you. He placed the frying pan down, flipping the last pancake and walked to you. 

"Morning, sugar" he said in a happy voice as he got closer and leaned in to kiss your lips, but you immediately turned your face away, avoiding his kiss as you looked down. 

"Listen Jack, we need to talk… I'm sorry about last night, I know I led you the wrong way, I flirted and kissed but it was wrong and it shouldn't have happened" you said without much conviction in your voice, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him, so you cleared your throat and continued "we can't be together, I know you're trying, Jack, you're becoming a better man, but I have a boyfriend now and you will always be the man who abandoned me and our son" you sighed sadly "I was just giving into my desires…"

Jack immediately gripped your hips, pulling you closer, a desperate look on his face, he was hurt and you could see it in his eyes 

"Desire, that's the right word, sugar. You desire me, you want me, why do you still deny it? We love each other" he said, stroking your cheek, swallowing hard and giving you the saddest eyes you'd ever seen. "We can be a happy family… you, me, our son and if you want to we can even try for a little girl, I promise I'll be around, I want to be a husband to you and a father to our son…"

"You're out of your mind, Jack, I would never be with you again, I would never be crazy to let you get me pregnant again! You made me go away! You told me to get rid of my son! I've fallen for you once, but I won't anymore. Yes, I had desire for you, because you are the kind of guy that's good for a drunk fuck and nothing else, Jack. I had to learn the hard way guys like you are meant to be fucked and guys like Frankie are meant to be married"

Jack immediately let go of your body, looking down in shame and sniffed, nodding and turning his back to you. Jack's pride was hurt, and his heart was shattered. He knew you would take your distance once you sobered up, but he didn't think you would regress so much. You were back at fighting and accusing each other, and he was tired of that. 

"Mama! Dada!" Wyatt squealed happily as he watched his mommy and daddy in the kitchen, his small tummy growling with hunger at the delicious smell. 

"Dada, you made pancakes for me? Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He squealed adorably and jumped into Jack's arms, who held his son tight against his chest, snuggling him, and pecked his son's cheek gently, you knew Jack was a fearless man when he was on his missions, but now, he avoided staring at you, so you wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill out of his beautiful chocolate brown eyes. 

You didn't even know why you'd said that, but you needed to make sure Jack would keep his hands to himself, you didn't want to be a fool for the second time and he had no right to try and seduce you with a baby talk. Jack wasn't meant to be a father and you'd been nice enough to let him be around Wyatt. On the other hand, you had never thought of marrying Frankie, that made no sense, all you knew was that you wanted to hurt Jack and it seemed like you achieved your goal.

_____

A/N: How dare reader say those things to Jack??? Why can't they be together already 😭😭😭😭

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 28

Honor Bound 6 - 28 (Chronic Pain) @badthingshappenbingo

Red X for posted, white X for requested! Send in your requests! If you don’t see a prompt here that you already requested, please send it again!

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: tattooing, chronic pain, old injury, blood, past consensual sex, negotiating boundaries

~

By the time Brandon had finished half of Zachariah’s tattoo, Sam was beginning to sweat through their shirt. Zachariah had long since sweat through his. Sweat was beading on his brow, running into his eyes, and Brandon had given him a rag to mop his face so he would be more comfortable.

“Just let me know if you need to stop, man, and we can stop,” Brandon had said a few times. Every time Zachariah would bite his lip and shake his head and say he was fine, really, and Brandon would keep going, at least until the next time he would ask. He was asking it every few minutes, now.

Still, Sam hoped no one would notice how much pain they were in. Sitting on this stool with nothing to support their arm, the old wound had long since begun to ache. Old, throbbing pain radiated up and down their arm. The palm of their right hand prickled where normally there was only unsettling numbness. They cradled their arm against their chest.

It had been so, so long since they’d had a bad pain day.

Still, thankfully, everyone seemed to be focusing on Zachariah. It was nice to find the luxury even to be in pain without drawing the worried and guilty glances of their family. Living under the watchful eyes of Isaac, Gavin, and Gray was – well, it was what Sam wanted, but it came at the price of knowing their pain hurt the ones they lived with and loved so dearly. It was nice to be able to exist, even in pain, and not have to so carefully mask it, even for a few hours. Masking it took more energy, which made the pain worse, which just made it harder to mask—

A hand fell on their shoulder. They flinched and sucked in a gasp. Fire jolted through their wound to their hand and they cried out.

Brandon pulled the tattoo machine away from Zachariah’s shoulder and all eyes turned to Sam. They shuddered and ducked their head at the awful, familiar guilt and worry in everyone’s eyes, the way everyone seemed to reach for them at once…

“I’m fine,” they bit out – an instinct. Their hand spasmed against their chest.

“Whoa,” Brandon mumbled as he set the tattoo machine to the side. “You all good?”

“I’m fine,” Sam said, more forcefully this time. “It’s just—”

“You’re really pale,” Isaac said weakly. It was his hand on their shoulder that had startled them.

Sam squeezed their own wrist tightly as they dragged in a shaky inhale, pushed out a hissing exhale. “Yeah,” they croaked.

“Do we need to take a second?” Brandon said. Sam raised their eyes to him. He looked as relaxed as if they were talking about their lunch plans, as if Sam wasn’t moments away from throwing up all over his floor.

“No,” Sam breathed, squeezing their eyes shut and forcing another deep breath. “No, you can keep going. This is just… this is just something that happens.”

Zachariah shifted in his chair. “Um… I think… I might need a minute.” His voice was shaking, sweat beading on his upper lip. He looked like he had just run ten miles.

“Sure,” Brandon said, nonchalant as could be. He set the tattoo machine and stained cloth down.

The fire was fading, but the crushing ache was not. Sam leaned their head against Isaac’s chest as he stood beside them. “G-getting better,” they murmured. “It’s just… I think it’s just sitting here. Making my arm hurt.”

“Fair enough,” Isaac said gently. He wound his arms around them and held them close. It felt nice to be held, even though Sam could feel his heart hammering against their cheek through his shirt. “Maybe I can take you home? Gavin can stay here with Zachariah?”

“Uh…” Zachariah sounded better than he had a minute ago, but not by much.

Sam lifted their head and glanced at Zachariah.

He stared at Brandon apologetically. “Could I actually… be done for today? I’m sorry, but… it’s more than I thought I could—”

Brandon lifted a gloved hand, stained with ink and blood. Zachariah fell silent. “No problem at all, dude. Like I said, we didn’t have to finish this today. Let me cover this, and you can just come in tomorrow and I’ll finish you up. Deal?”

“Deal,” Zachariah huffed, sagging with relief. Sam sagged with him. Isaac’s arm wound around their shoulders, and they nearly slumped off their stool and into his embrace. Gavin appeared at their other side. Their mouth twitched, and embarrassment prickled in their stomach, before they raised their eyes to look at him; he looked pale, too, and tired.

He probably needs rest more than any of us right now.

Still, Sam could tell by the hard set of his mouth that nothing could have pulled him away from watching the Stormbeck crest disappear from Zachariah’s shoulder.

“—'ll probably bleed a bit,” Brandon was telling Zachariah as Sam blinked against the pain fogging their thoughts. “And leak some ink. If there’s more blood than, like, just a little bit, come see me. But don’t worry about a little blood and ink. I mean. You’ve had a tattoo before.”

“Yeah,” Zachariah said weakly. He flinched as Brandon wrapped clear plastic over the half-finished tattoo.

“Yeah, so, tomorrow morning I have another job, but tomorrow afternoon I’m free. Come by then and I’ll finish you up. Everybody good to make it home?” Brandon looked around at everyone, his eyes staying on Zachariah longest. Sam nodded and leaned against Isaac.

“W-we’ll make it,” Gavin murmured through pale, thin lips. His arm slid around Sam’s waist, although he looked like if Sam leaned even slightly against him, he would collapse.

The sweat on Zachariah’s skin was already starting to dry. He raised his damp t shirt and mopped his brow, then looked at Sam. He offered them a tentative smile.

“Halfway there,” he said softly, and held out his hand to them. His palm was warm as they slid their hand into his.

Brandon tore the plastic wrap and tucked in the ends, smoothing down the last stray bits. “Okay, you’re all good,” he said, and rolled his little table of tattoo supplies against the wall. The tattoo machine clinked as he began to disassemble it.

Sam released Zachariah’s hand and pushed themself unsteadily to their feet. Zachariah rose beside them. Isaac and Gavin stayed on Sam’s either side, Isaac being especially careful not to jostle Sam’s arm. Sam breathed slowly through the pain, which had dulled now to a steady throb. The pain hadn’t been this bad in… in weeks. Still, it crawled into their muscles, digging into their very bone, and ate at them. When they passed through the door to Brandon’s shack and felt the cool breeze on their face, they heaved a sigh of relief.

“Home, then?” Isaac said gently. His eyes belied his worry, but… there wasn’t as much guilt there as Sam expected.

They leaned into him, but froze as they felt Gavin stumble at their other side. They chewed their lip and caught themself casting a worried glance of their own at Gavin. “Um…”

“Why don’t…” Zachariah stared at his feet as he spoke. Sam hoped that one day he wouldn’t look so frightened, all the time. “I mean, um… Sam, if it works for you… you could come over to my place, and, um… I’ll…”

I’ll take care of you.

Sam swallowed past the lump in their throat that formed at Zachariah’s unsaid words. They forced a smile.

“…I’ll make us dinner if you want. And we could just hang out… have a quiet night.”

Sam blinked.

“Sam?” Isaac said. “Does that sound okay?”

“Um.” Sam met Zachariah’s eyes, stomach fluttering with embarrassment. He had never been the one to coddle them, not when they had to wear the sling, not when they needed to sleep half the day because they were still healing, never. Still, if Zachariah were to take care of Sam… they couldn’t imagine him ever making them feel guilty for it. They nodded numbly. “Yeah,” they said. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

A shy smile played at Zachariah’s lips. “Great,” he breathed.

Sam squeezed Gavin with their intact arm and laid their head against Isaac’s shoulder. “See you back at the house later, then?”

“Only if you want to,” Isaac said, and kissed the crown of Sam’s head. “If it works better for you to stay the night at Zachariah’s, no worries there.”

“Sounds good,” Sam said, and stepped away. Isaac and Gavin waved at the two of them as they headed toward their house. Before they could disappear from sight, Gavin collapsed against Isaac’s side. Isaac’s arm wound around Gavin’s waist and they kept walking like that, Gavin leaning all his weight against Isaac, until they turned a corner and disappeared from Sam’s sight. Sam swallowed hard and looked up at Zachariah. This time, neither of them bothered to conceal the worry on their faces.

∴

Zachariah’s cooking was amazing. Now that Sam thought about it, they didn’t think they had ever had a dish that Zachariah had made himself. Cooking was so often a communal thing with the family, and so often something simple that could be thrown together quickly to serve six people, then seven, growing until they were a ten-person family; rice, some kind of vegetable, and some kind of meat with a delicious sauce was the usual fare. Besides, that made leftovers easy, too. For someone to cook something just for themselves was so rare that it almost never happened.

Still, Sam could scarcely believe that they had gone all this time – more than three months – without tasting Zachariah’s cooking. Even without the fancy spices that he was used to having in the city, he had made some kind of rice-and-tomatoes-and-chicken dish that had Sam going back for seconds, even still a little nauseated from the pain. Now they were stretched out on the couch, regretting the second helping but happy to be cuddling in Zachariah’s lap, a sack of microwaved dry rice propped under their sore arm. They heaved a sigh and rested their head against Zachariah’s broad chest.

“Good?” Zachariah murmured, and Sam detected the slightest hint of self-satisfaction in his voice. It made them smile.

“You know it was,” they groaned, burying their face in his shirt to hide their smile. “You… you tricked me into eating so much. You… coerced me, Zachariah Medina.” Pain twinged through their old wound. They sucked in a breath through their teeth and held their hand tightly to their chest.

Zachariah’s mouth made a firm line. “Still pretty bad, huh?” He shifted the bag of rice, pulling it higher into Sam’s armpit.

“No, it’s, ah…” Sam pushed out a slow, shaky breath. “Not as…” Their stomach lurched, and they clenched their teeth together to keep from being sick all over their own lap. Another slow breath in, another slow breath out. They glanced up and found Zachariah’s warm brown eyes staring into theirs.

His lips trembled – no, they weren’t trembling, they were just moving soundlessly like he was trying to choose which words to say. Sam closed their eyes. They couldn’t focus on both him and the pain at once. They couldn’t deal with—

“We… don’t have to hang out, if you don’t want to,” Zachariah said. Sam’s shoulders relaxed as they realized there wasn’t any disappointment in his voice at all. They opened their eyes again, their gaze unfocused. They wet their lips.

“I still want to… be around you,” they croaked. “I just… sorry, it’s just… hard to deal with… this. Right now.” Their left hand curled into a fist.

“I get that,” Zachariah said. “I do. So… how do you want to be around me? It’s up to you.”

Sam drew a deep breath in through their nose and blew it out through their lips. They glanced around the small living room. There wasn’t much to the space; there was a small table with a few chairs, some shelves set up that had been stocked with a few weeks’ worth of food, the kitchen leading off to the right. In the other direction led the hallway to the bathroom and bedroom. Sam’s eyes lingered on the hallway.

“Um…” Even without their meaning to, their mind strayed to the ways the both of them had spent their time together for the past month. While Gavin had been missing, Zachariah had been as much a prisoner in the farmhouse as if he had been chained there.  He couldn’t go on walks with the others like he used to, or swim in the lake, or go into town. There had been so little to do but lie in bed together, clothed at first, then not, then…

Sam swallowed hard and returned their gaze to Zachariah’s. “I’d just really like to lie down,” they said woodenly.

And I don’t want to fuck you tonight. Please, please don’t ask me to fuck you tonight.

Zachariah nodded once. “Sounds good,” he said, and opened his arms.

Sam felt tired in their bones as they pushed away from his chest and stiffly got to their feet. The warm bag of rice slid onto the couch cushions, but Zachariah waved their hand away from it.

“Let me,” he said with a gentle smile.

Sam shuffled to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light before they crawled on top of Zachariah’s blanket. They lowered themself onto the left side and curled into a limp ball. The bed dipped as Zachariah joined them.

“I don’t want to have sex tonight,” Sam mumbled.

There was a slight huff as Zachariah tucked the warm compress under Sam’s arm and settled behind them, curling around their body and pulling them close. “I figured,” he said softly. “I don’t feel like it, either.” There was a smile in his voice.

“Yeah?” Sam shivered as he nuzzled into the back of their neck, pressing a small kiss into their curls – and then he settled, his breath fanning out over their hair.

“Yeah.” Zachariah’s thumb rubbed back and forth, back and forth on their left wrist. They were grateful for the touch, for his warmth, and for the fact that this was the extent of it. Isaac would be worried, and guilty, and sad, his hands reaching out to Sam, perhaps clutching at them so that he could remind himself that they were alive, and that he wasn’t about to lose them, but Zachariah… Zachariah just was.

“Hmmm,” Sam hummed. The heat was helping. As their muscles relaxed, the pain ebbed, just the slightest bit. Still, their palm kept tingling. They wondered if this pain would last, or if it would be gone when they woke.

Continued here

@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

[immajustvibehere]

A Fool Remains Foolish

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

summary: Drunk Arthur stumbles into the hotel bathroom to get a deluxe bath. He's too drunk to recognise a woman he used to know and love in past.

tags: weirdly fluffy, drunk Arthur, soft Arthur, he aint no outlaw when he's naked, if you squint you'll see hints of nsfw content

3000 words, 15 minutes reading time

When you discreetly opened the bathroom door to tend to a customer who had ordered a deluxe bath you surely hadn't expected this. You immediately recognized him. It was his soft voice in which cursed himself when he struggled to get out of his pants which gave him away. Then he turned around and undoubtedly, that was Arthur Morgan, hammered and naked in front of you. This familiar body stumbled around in the bathroom, trying to cover his private parts while steering towards the steaming bathtub.

"Sorry, Miss. I'm-", he interrupted his slurring with a chuckle darkly, "I'll behave."

You shook your head smilingly: "I thought we didn't allow drunkards to take baths. We had some who drowned."

"I can swim, I won't drown, don'tcha worry ‘bout me", the man had finally found his way into the bathtub, now submerging in the warm water. Not without spilling half the tub.

As he closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of a hot bath, you couldn't help but grin like an idiot. Arthur fucking Morgan. You thought you'd never see him again. The last time you spoke to him was about ten years ago. Maybe even more. He obviously hadn't recognized you yet. Maybe a decade of anything but an easy life had changed you, or maybe it was your new hairstyle. Even more likely, it was that he was drunk enough to not know his own name. You watched as he tried to grab the soap, missing it two times before giving up.

"You just relax, Mister", you said kindly and picked up the soap, "that's my job anyways."

"Oh, right!", Arthur remarked as if he had just remembered you were in the room too. You started to soap him up, tracing the lines of his tense muscles with a wet rag. He had changed a lot too, not for the worse though.

"I have a bet going on", Arthur explained in a loud voice "with my friend Lenny, ya know? He thought I wouldn't get a woman to wash me."

"Looks like he lost that bet", you laughed.

"Sure did", Arthur exclaimed. After some giggles he slurred something barely intelligible before he hummed approvingly when you moved on to his hair, massaging the soap into his wet strands. You jumped when the man plumped forwards. You feared he had passed out. But instead, he had just chosen to make an incredibly sudden move to rested his head on his arm which lay still on the brim of the bathtub.

"Yer real kind, miss", he mumbled, "haven't been touched like this by a woman in years."

After you weren't quick enough to think of a response he apologized in a sad voice: "Sorry, maybe ain't appropriate to say that..."

"That's okay", you reassured, "though I don't understand. You're a handsome looking fella."

"I think...I'm payin' you to say that", Arthur stuttered his thoughts. You laughed and because he heard that, he allowed himself a chuckle.

"Trust me, you're paying me to wash you. The money ain't enough to come up with lies", you rinsed his hair, careful not to get soap into his eyes. Which was rather difficult, considering his head position wasn't ideal, hanging almost over the bathtub. The warm water running down his back earned you a content sigh.

"Yer pretty. I'm sure ya got a strong husband back home to take care of ya", he peered at you, still not recognizing you.

"Can't say that I have", you answered truthfully. Having your old lover ask you that made your heart beat quicker. It was as if he attempted to flirt with you, though very poorly.

"Huh? Anyway, I'm a bad man, Miss. Women are right to stay far away from me", he explained quietly, his words transforming into a hum after you continued to his shoulder, working hard to massage his muscles.

"That so...", you whispered a reply.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Most of the night was a blur for Arthur. When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he had to worry about is how he managed to get a bed. He was facing a window with drawn, worn-down curtains. Nevertheless, it was still rather bright in the room, too bright for his hangover. And still, he remained in that position for a while, just until he had woken up a bit more.

Then he rolled over onto his back while fearing that the bed underneath him was rolling over too. He blinked and vaguely recognized the ceiling. He had slept some nights at the Saints Hotel to be familiar with its commodities. A sigh of relief followed. Of all the places he could have passed out, a hotel bed seemed a rather harmless one. But then he caught a glimpse of a human figure sitting next to him.

"Aw shit", he mumbled in a gravelly voice. "I got myself a whore?"

He lifted his heavy arms to pinch the bridge of his nose. The question was more a question to himself, insulting the woman next to him wasn't really his intention...it was more a way of talking himself down for having sunk so low in his drunken state. Either way, he didn't have a lot of time to sulk about it, because a hand slapped him right across the face. Not so hard to seriously hurt, but definitely firm enough to quicken the waking up process.

"You have an odd way of thanking me", you remarked with a sigh. You watched as Arthur properly opened his eyes, staring at you with his blue orbs. God, you had missed them so much. In all the time that had passed since you had last seen him, you had never found a man whose eyes impressed you like Arthur’s had done. Not that this was a feature he had control over, but it added to his offense when he was drunkenly mumbling self-deprecations all night.  The dim light hadn't given you a proper opportunity to see them, but now he looked up to you from his pillow, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Y/n?", he mumbled unbelievingly.

You nodded.

"Oh shit", Arthur remarked, flopping back into his pillow, and pressing his fists onto his eyes. He must be dreaming. When he dared a second look, he shamelessly looked you up and down. Just to make sure you were really there. But you quietly sat next to him, an opened book in your lap and dark rings under your eyes.

"That really you?", he asked. Just to verify his aching head wasn't deceiving him.

"Of course it's me, you damn fool", now you couldn't suppress a smile because you saw the red colour coming to his cheeks.

"How-", Arthur started.

"Remember getting a deluxe bath while absolutely shit-faced?", you asked.

Arthur pondered for a while, not sure if those flashes of images were remains of a dream or had really happened. So he carefully answered: "Maybe."

"Well, I had the pleasure to keep you from drowning while scraping two weeks’ worth of dirty off your body", you now giggled, secretly enjoying how the man squirmed uncomfortably under your words.

"Sorry I didn't recognize ya", Arthur apologized, trying to sit up but deciding against it when it proved too much of a hassle. Also, his blanket slipped, which made him realize for the first time since he had woken up that he was completely nude. He lifted the blanket just an inch to make sure, wondering if the situation could get any more embarrassing.

"You vomited on your clothes, I had to get you out of them. Don't worry, I cleaned them. There's not one cloud in the sky and a decent wind so they might be dry in the afternoon", you explained.

Arthur sighed and mumbled: "Guess it don't matter much. I bet I made a fool out of myself in the bathroom already."

He found some comfort in your soft smile, relieved that you didn't show any intention of teasing him about it. You thought back to last night, giggling in reminiscence: "Oh, just a bit. You stumbled across every possible obstacle, and I practically had to drag you up the stairs but that aside...you were manageable."

Arthur joined in in your chuckle, more out of embarrassment than the ability to laugh about himself.

"Should've jus' kicked me out", he suggested.

"I suppose", you shrugged "You're lucky I like you and was happy to see you again or I might have had you arrested."

Arthur blinked at the ceiling. 'You're lucky I like you'? What was that supposed to mean? You might have been lovers ten years ago, but you hadn't been speaking in past tense. Him making a fool out of himself surely wouldn't be enough to rekindle old feelings. And yet, when he turned his head to look at you, he understood. Your cheeks had blushed from the sudden confession and your eyes were glowing in anticipation and excitement. He still couldn't grasp 'why', but for some reason you really seemed to care about him. Hell, you had been taking more care of him in one night than any women ever had. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn't entirely sure what. But you were faster.

"I'm sure you're thirsty. I'll get you a glass of water and check on your clothes", you stated, jumping out of bed eagerly, despite being exhausted from the two hours of sleep you had gotten.

When you returned barely ten minutes later, Arthur had passed out again. Lying on his stomach, soft snores filled the room. You couldn't help but smile, put the glass down and slipped under the blanket. At least he's somewhat sober now, you thought. There was no danger of him suffocating on his own vomit, so you might as well rest. The bed wasn't the biggest, but it was comfortable enough for two people, if they weren't skittish about a bit of cuddling.

You didn't want to be indecent though. Arthur was still naked. His clothes were still damp and fluttering on the clothing line on the balcony of the hotel. Arthur's face was turned towards you. You watched as his eyelids twitched; his mouth slightly open. His hair was dishevelled. Guess that happens when you fall asleep with wet hair, not like he had given you a good opportunity to dry it after he had passed out.

Being close to him felt familiar, though completely different at the same time. The two of you were young when you dated, now, neither of you were what could be considered young. Arthur had gained one or two scars on his face, even more on his body, as you had remarked in the bathtub yesterday. But he was still handsome, despite what he may think. It's new though, this talking himself down and apologizing for existing. He wasn't quite that humble when you were together. You wondered what had happened.

With Arthur's rhythmic snores and the exhaustion wearing your body down and making your eyelids heavy, it didn't take long until you finally fell asleep.

It was way past lunchtime, the sun was already threatening to disappear behind the mountains, when Arthur finally woke up again. He was turned towards the window again and his eyes fell onto the glass of water on his nightstand, which he eagerly gulped down. When he turned in bed, determined to rest for only five more minutes before getting up, he suddenly found his face only inches from yours. Drowsy as he was, he had forgotten you were there. But now it was his time to look at your sleeping face in awe. Strands of hair had fallen into your face, one of your hands rested on the pillow, being the only barrier between him and you.

He was going nowhere. Not until you had woken up and brought him his clothes. So he might as well stay in bed and watch you...no, that didn't feel right.

Arthur turned onto his back to stare down the ceiling. Occasionally, he got distracted when you shuffled closer and snuggled up to him. It did feel good to have a warm and soft body next to him. Too good, almost. You weren't his lover anymore and you had already gone through a lot of trouble to care for him this past hours, he didn't want to be the one to have inappropriate thoughts about something that was so long ago and that surely wouldn't be happening again.

"Y/n", he whispered.

There was no reaction whatsoever. You didn't even move an inch. Your arm was snaked around his and he felt your legs pressing against his. Your mouth was so close to his bare skin, he could feel your hot breath. It gave him goosebumps.

"Y/n", he repeated more firmly, turning his body to lie on the side again. Your arms were untangled, and his warm legs were no longer touching yours. You blinked.

"Sorry to wake ya", Arthur whispered, his hand moving one strand of hair out of your face before he remembered to not do it, but to keep a respectable distance. As much as he could in one bed.

You blinked a couple of times before you groaned: "Oh no, sorry. I didn't want to sleep for so long."

"It's okay, darli-...", he cleared his throat, "I just...." Arthur couldn't bring himself to ask you to stand up to get his clothes.

"I'll get them in a minute", you said apologetically, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. Arthur felt bad and sat up, resting his back against the cool bedrest: "Don't worry 'bout it. Take yer time."

You stretched and sat up next to Arthur. You checked him out in the corner of his eye. Now that he only had the blanket covering his low abdomen, starting to cover the area where a thicker trail of hair led down to...

"You're still running with Dutch?", you asked in an attempt to distract yourself.

"Yeah", Arthur answered, his gaze towards the ceiling again.

Your eyes fell on your book that rested on the nightstand: "How's Hosea? I had to think about him a lot last night when I was reading to stay awake. It was him who taught me, remember?"

"I do", Arthur replied thoughtfully, vaguely remembering the scenes of you back in camp when it was still only a small group of people. You had been a quick learner. He remembered bugging Hosea to teach you faster, because he wanted to spend time with you alone and not watch you pronounce letter after letter. What a fool he was back then.

"Hosea's doing good. Still a strong man, I'm sure he'll outlive all of us", Arthur said to your great pleasure.

"He better!", you grinned, "tell him I said hello." But then you wondered if Arthur even wanted to do that. Because it implied telling someone that you two had met again and somehow...you weren't sure if Arthur wanted that. That's why you didn't even wait for an answer and slipped out of bed and announced you'd get his clothes. Arthur shuddered at the cold that suddenly replaced the spot where you had been, but nodded as reply.

As soon as you handed him his clothes and he remarked that they were cleaner than they had been in years, he didn't bother waiting until you offered to leave the room. He sat at the edge of the bed and started to dress himself. His back was turned towards you, but he felt foolish telling you not to watch or leave, reminding himself constantly that he was a drunk idiot last night and there were probably some naked shenanigans that he had done last night that you weren't disclosing to save some of his dignity.

His gun belt clattered as he fixed it around his hip. Arthur looked like a different man. He wasn't the helpless, flirty drunk who you bathed yesterday, neither was he the drowsy man you had slept next to. All of a sudden, he was an outlaw again. A man on the run, a man who many dreamed about seeing him swing. That was what had bothered you ten years ago when the two of you had ended things.

You asked yourself if it still mattered to you now.

Dressed and ready to leave, he took some money out of his satchel and attempted to hand it to you: "For yer trouble. And for keeping you from workin' the whole day."

You crossed your arms: "Couple of hours ago you were disgusted because you thought you woke up next to a working girl and now you try to pay me like one?"

Arthur was stunned. You were right, of course, but he didn't quite grasp the fact that you done all this for him for free. When the money was back in his satchel, the two of you hugged.

It wasn't one of those short, friendly hugs with patting the back of the other. No, it was an intimate hug. Like two friends that met again after years. Or even better, two lovers that found themselves confronted with old feelings. Arthur hugged you tighter, resting his cheek against your head.

"Guess of all the girls I could've made a fool of myself, 'm glad it was you last night", he mumbled.

Your face being pressed into the crook of his neck, he felt your lips curling into a smile.

"Where are you holed up? Will you stop by again?", you suddenly started to feel anxious that this is the last time you'll see Arthur. Not now, not after you haven't felt this safe and happy to be there for somebody.

"We're not far from here. ...I'll be around, sure", as Arthur said those words, he didn't quite believe them yet. But as soon as he had his back turned towards you to walk off to his horse, he knew that he'll be back sooner rather than later.

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

I mean, if y'all want...I think a second part is the logical way of approaching this story. But it depends on your feedback hehe

And as pretty much always, this was developed in a cooperation with @little-honeypie

taglist: @photo1030 @stilinskiwitch

[munchmemes]

fall out boy lyrics, so much (for) stardust edition

❛  what would you trade the pain for?  ❜

❛  we were a hammer to the Statue of David.  ❜

❛  we were a painting you could never frame.  ❜

❛  you were the sunshine of my lifetime.  ❜

❛  i'd never go. i just want to be invited.  ❜

❛  every lover's got a little dagger in their hand.  ❜

❛  there's no way off the hamster wheel on this rat race.  ❜

❛  give up what you love before it does you in.  ❜

❛  no matter what they tell you, the future's up for grabs.  ❜

❛  is there a word for bad miracle?  ❜

❛  we could dance our tears away.  ❜

❛  it's open season on blue moods.  ❜

❛  i guess i'm getting older 'cause i'm less pissed.  ❜

❛  you put the 'fun' in dysfunction.  ❜

❛  hold me like a grudge.  ❜

❛  the world is always spinning and i can't keep up.  ❜

❛  part-time soulmate, full-time problem.  ❜

❛  i guess somehow we made it back with a few dreams of ours still in tact.  ❜

❛  i got no map to my own treasure.  ❜

❛  i thought i knew better, i thought it would get better.  ❜

❛  i figured somehow by now, i would have got it together.  ❜

❛  if you put your heart in it, then we'll do more than just get by together.  ❜

❛  i'll call you up and demand you have no fun without me.  ❜

❛  i make no plans and none can be broken.  ❜

❛  do you laugh about me whenever i leave? or do i just need more therapy?  ❜

❛  love is in the air, i just gotta figure out a window to break out.  ❜

❛  i didn't take the love when i had the chance but i swear i'm not sad anymore.  ❜

❛  we all started out as shiny dimes but we all got flipped too many times.  ❜

❛  we did it for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change.  ❜

❛  i will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me.  ❜

❛  tell me, when the party ends, will you still love who i am?  ❜

❛  save your breath. half your life you've been hooked on death.  ❜

❛  be careful what you bottle up.  ❜

❛  i closed my eyes inside of your darkness and found your glow.  ❜

❛  shake things up and see what comes down.  ❜

❛  i got this doom and gloom in my mind but i feel all right.  ❜

❛  feeling so good right now 'til we crash and burn somehow.  ❜

❛  i know i've made mistakes but at least they were mine to make.  ❜

❛  all of my wildest dreams, they just end up with you and me.  ❜

❛  let's drive until the engine just gives out.  ❜

❛  i'll be whatever you need me to be.  ❜

❛  i cut myself down to whatever you need me to be.  ❜

❛  it's all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes.  ❜

❛  i take pleasure in the detail, you know? a quarter pounder with cheese. those are good. the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain. a moment where your laughter becomes a cackle.  ❜

❛  here i am, not sure you should take a chance.  ❜

❛  i like playing dumb, letting you figure me out.  ❜

❛  just another day spent hoping we don't fall apart.  ❜

❛  let's twist the knife again like we did last summer.  ❜

❛  i'm just trying to keep it together but it gets a little harder when it never gets better.  ❜

❛  late at night in my room, i lie awake and think of you and all your little dooms.  ❜

❛  last night, i dreamt i still knew you.  ❜

❛  i carved out a place in this world for two but it's empty without you.  ❜

❛  i've got all this love i've got to keep to myself.  ❜

❛  all this effort to make it look effortless.  ❜

❛  confront all the pain like a gift under the tree.  ❜

❛  oh please, i can't be who you need me to be.  ❜

❛  one day every candle's gotta run out of wax.  ❜

❛  time is luck and i wish ours overlapped more or for longer.  ❜

❛  but you know what they say, if you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself.  ❜

❛  what is there between us, if not a little annihilation?  ❜

❛  i'm pretty sure as far as humans go, i am a hard pill to swallow.  ❜

❛  i spent ten years in a bit of a chemical haze and i miss the way that i felt.  ❜

❛  i felt you at the beginning but needed you at the end.  ❜

❛  stop me if you have heard this all before.  ❜

❛  oh, but you don't know me anymore.  ❜

❛  that's the way, the world, it used to be before our dreams starting bursting at the seams.  ❜

❛  we're out here and we're ready to livestream the apocalypse.  ❜

❛  the view's so pretty from the deck of a sinking ship.  ❜

❛  everything is lit except my serotonin.  ❜

❛  everything is lit but my lightning bolt brain.  ❜

❛  i just need someone to hold me even though you don't even know me.  ❜

❛  what a time to be alive.  ❜

❛  they say i should try meditation but i don't want to be with my own thoughts.  ❜

❛  when i said 'leave me alone' this isn't quite what i meant.  ❜

❛  bad news, what's left?  ❜

❛  i'm in a winter mood, dreaming of spring now.  ❜

❛  i feel like something that's been stretched out over and over again until i'm creased and i'm about to break down the middle.  ❜

❛  the stars are the same as ever but i don't have the guts to keep it together.  ❜

❛  life is just a game, maybe i'm stuck in a lonely loop.  ❜

❛  we thought we had it all.  ❜

❛  i need the sound of crowds or i can't fall asleep at night.  ❜

❛  i'm pretty positive my pain isn't cool enough.  ❜

❛  ache it till you make it.  ❜

❛  i think i've been going through it and i've been putting your name to it.  ❜

❛  i used to be a real go-getter. i used to think it'd all get better.  ❜