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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Toxic Taste

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] It's a perfect day for a picnic with your friends. Well, it seems like one until you suddenly fall very ill.

Warnings: very minor cursing

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: this was requested by @amintyworld! everyone just loves protective dream, don’t they? i had fun exploring this concept, and i hope you enjoy!

You hummed, fixing your hair in the mirror before giving yourself one last once over, nodding to yourself. Looks good. Just then, you heard the door swing open behind you, creaking with a quiet groan. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Whirling around, your hand quickly grabbed the woven basket on the table beside you as you flashed Clay a bright grin, bounding over to his side with a skip in your step. “I am, now.”

Without having to say another word, he lifted his arm toward you, and you looped yours through his, your fingers tightening around the basket handle. The two of you stepped outside together, locking the door behind you before making your way down the oak path. Above you, only a few clouds dotted the cerulean blue sky, drifting along the gentle spring breeze.

It really was a perfect day for a picnic.

Turning, you cast a curious glance over at Clay. “Are you excited to see what everyone brought?”

He bobbed his head, his lips quirking up into a wicked grin. “Yeah—I can’t wait to make fun of whatever George made.”

You frowned, shooting him an unimpressed look. “George is a good chef in his own right,” you chided.

His smile widened, reaching over to gently tap your nose. “Yeah, but you’re the best.” He patted your basket cover, his viridian gaze swirling with mirth. “They’re gonna love your cookies.”

You rolled your eyes at him, snorting, but he didn’t miss the way your lips twitched. “You just say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

He hummed. “Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You raised your brows at him. “Oh? So you admit that you’re biased?”

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against yours in a peck, pulling back with a dazzling grin. “Of course,” he murmured in that soft tone that made your cheeks grow hot, “without a doubt.”

You swallowed, trying to calm your frantically beating heart. “You’re so cheesy,” you said, adopting a passive tone, “no more dilly-dallying, now. We have a picnic to get to.”

He sent you a crooked smile. “Okay, okay.” His eyes flashed. “I’ll race you.”

“Huh, wh—?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had suddenly bolted, his arm leaving yours. Almost immediately, your body yearned for the warmth of his pressed against yours, and you found yourself stumbling after him.

“Wait, Clay!” you called after him, your basket bouncing beside you as you watched him crest over the grassy hill. “That’s not fair! Get back here!”

He only turned to shoot you a goofy grin, laughter bubbling on his lips as he disappeared from view, his hoodie fading to nothing more than a tiny speck of green among the swaying blades of grass. You couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling from your lips, bursting from your chest like fireworks.

“You are so dead when I catch up to you!”

He called back over the horizon. “If you ever!”

Your grin only grew wider.

Oh, he was so dead.

“Your bread sucks.”

You gasped, lightly smacking Clay’s chest. “Clay!” Whipping around, you sent George an earnest grin. “George, I think your bread is wonderful.”

Beside you, Tommy made a face, setting his slice down on his plate with a disgusted glance. “Nah, I agree with Big D. This bread is pretty shit.”

Now, it was Wilbur’s turn to gasp. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s brows knit together as he scowled. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

George let out a long groan, his glasses threatening to slide off the crown of his head as he hung his face in his hands. “I am never baking, again.”

In an instant, Niki was on her feet, flailing her arms. “No, no, no! Don’t say that—baking can be a lot of fun!” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I can teach you a new sourdough recipe, if you’d like!”

George lifted his head, blinking at her with wide, hopeful eyes. “You would?”

She nodded, a bright smile tugging at her lips. “Of course!”

Sapnap snorted, taking another bite of steak. “I can’t believe you have to learn from someone else how to make good bread.”

George groaned again, glowering at his supposed best friend. “Why is everyone ganging up on me, today?”

Clay was quick to butt in. “Haven’t you heard? It’s National Be Mean to George Day.”

Tubbo blinked, confusion clouding his features. “That’s not a real holi—” He paused, then gasped. “Oh, wait.” He grinned. “Never mind.”

George’s glare only intensified, and he sighed. “Niki, forget it.”

While Niki practically shriveled into a puddle, Wilbur spoke up, offering him a reassuring smile. “Well, I think your bread is delicious, George. Genuinely.”

George flashed him a thankful grin, adjusting the glasses on his head. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

Letting out another laugh, you leaned back against Clay’s side, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as you snuggled against him. Your friends were always up to weird antics, and while you didn’t necessarily agree with their actions, you were willing to indulge in them, if only to see what would happen next. In front of you, you gingerly picked up the half-eaten fish skewer from your plate, lifting it to your lips as you took another bite. It was sweet, and vaguely tasted like saltwater, but you liked it. It was unique, in its own weird way.

You watched as Clay reached across the patterned blanket for the plate of cookies you had brought, gingerly picking one up. Glancing up at him, you opened your mouth. “Do you actually think George’s bread is bad?” you asked softly. “Or are you just trying to rile him up?”

He paused, the cookie halfway to his mouth, then shrugged, biting in. “It’s a bit of both. It isn’t half-bad, I guess.” He shot you a cheeky wink. “Yours is still better, though.”

You groaned, feeling your face grow warm. “Stop that.”

He tilted his head at you, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he chewed. “Stop what?” he said, leaning in close to you. “Being honest?”

You did your best to send him a glare, but you knew it was half-hearted at best. “Yes.”

His grin widened, his eyes glimmering with affectionate arrogance. “Never.”

As his eyes locked onto yours, you felt your glare melt away. With a small hum, he dipped his head to yours, pressing his mouth to yours with a smile. His tongue lapped at your lips, and you grinned back. He tasted like chocolate chips and sunshine. You pulled back with a quiet gasp, your cheeks burned with heat as his emerald eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the corners.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered for you and you alone.

Your heart swelled. “I love you, too.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then pressed his forehead against yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Also,” he added, “you taste like fish.”

You sent him a horrified look before smacking his arm again, your heart flipping as he wheezed at your reaction. “S-Shut up!”

He only wheezed harder in response, and despite your embarrassment, you felt a smile tugging on your lips. That was the thing about Clay that got you every time—as much as he would tease you and make your heart go wild in your chest, you knew he meant every single thing he told you. He was just so sincere like that, and it made you want to sink straight into him.

God, you were so, so in love.

Just then, a howl pulled you away from your attack on Clay. You turned to see Quackity, his mouth agape as he pointed at Niki, a bewildered look plastered to her face. “Niki!” he screamed. “You brought cake?”

She blinked, stunned for only a moment before she smiled, nodding. “Yeah! It’s homemade and has vanilla frosting.”

Quackity immediately sank down to one knee, one hand outstretched toward her as he said dramatically, “Marry me.”

Niki’s smile didn’t falter for even a second. “No thanks.”

Quackity’s arm dropped, and he let out a whine. “Damn, you didn’t have to say it so quickly.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat down with a pout. “You could have at least pretended to think about it.”

You all burst into laughter, giggling as Niki simply set her cake down on the blanket next to George’s bread. Wilbur had brought three watermelons—how he carted them over by himself, you had no idea—while Tommy brought pork chops. Tubbo had also caught fish for the occasion while Sapnap packed steak. Meanwhile, Quackity had carried a sack of apples over to the picnic, but you had a feeling he may or may not have stolen them, since he didn’t exactly own an apple orchard of his own.

You opened your mouth to ask for a slice of Niki’s cake when you suddenly froze, a bolt of what felt like lightning tingling up your spine. Your head spun, and you could have sworn your vision darkened at the edges. An uneasy pit grew in your stomach, and you frowned. Why do I feel so... strange?

Pushing yourself forward slightly, you tried to sit up straight, only to feel your arms wobble before you crashed back into Clay’s side once more. In a flash, his arms were around you, holding you steady as his green eyes peered down at yours.

“Hey,” he said, his tone growing serious, “are you okay?” He wrinkled his brow. “You look a little off.”

You blinked, feeling your stomach churn with uneasiness. “I’m, um—I feel kind of sick.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Clay was on his feet, stretching his arm out to you. “Here, let me help you up.”

You slipped your hand into his, doing your best to hang on tight as he tugged you upward. You expected to simply stand on your own two feet just as you would in any other situation, but the moment you were up, you suddenly felt your knees buckle beneath you, your legs going numb. You gasped as your feet went flying out under you, your fingers digging onto Clay’s palm.

“Clay—!”

With a whirl, his arms held you to his chest, your sides shaking. A rush of anxiety rolled through you, and you looked down, desperately trying to move your foot, only to find that you couldn’t. It remained as still as a rock, and you wanted to cry.

“[Y/N],” Clay breathed, his hand on your face as he supported your weight with his other arm, “what’s wrong?” His eyes desperately searched yours for any clue as to what was happening, but all you could manage was a broken, choked whisper.

“Clay, I—” You swallowed, your hands trembling around his arm while something stung at the back of your eyes. “I can’t move my legs.”

He froze, his voice dropping to a deadly low whisper. “You what?”

You shook your head, hanging onto him for dear life. The spinning had gotten worse now, and you felt sicker and sicker by the second. “I-I don’t know, I don’t feel good and something’s wrong and—Clay,” you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m scared.” Your heart pounded in your chest, but for all the wrong reasons. “Am I going to die?”

His gaze hardened, filling with determination as his hold around you tightened. “No,” he said without even an inkling of doubt, “you’re not.”

Before you could react, he suddenly swung one arm beneath your numb legs, easily hoisting you up so that you were carefully pressed against his chest. You gasped as your friends’ eyes landed on you, their faces full of worry as your head lolled against Clay’s shoulder.

“Everyone,” he said, his voice booming across the field, “there’s something wrong with the food.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat it.”

He turned his head, dipping his head toward George as he said, “George, I need you to get me as many regeneration potions and golden apples as you can, ASAP.”

George was on his feet as fast as he could, already turning on his heel. “I’m on it,” he shouted as he took off, already booking it down the hill.

Finally, Tubbo spoke up, asking the one question that had been on everyone’s mind. “Dream, what’s going on?”

Clay’s eyes darkened, and you could just barely feel his hands tighten around you while your vision swam.

“[Y/N]’s been poisoned.”

Wilbur gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god.”

Sapnap whipped his head around, gazing at the once serene picnic blanket with sheer terror. “What the fu—”

Suddenly, your hand shot up to grip Clay’s collar, his eyes immediately darting to yours. You gasped, your head absolutely throbbing as your heart rammed against your rib cage all too quickly. You opened your mouth, your spit tasting like salt and ash.

“Clay, I—”

The words died in your mouth as the world went dark, enveloping you in cold darkness.

You awoke with a start, bolting upright as you gasped, the cool air flooding your aching lungs. Immediately, you felt your stomach churn in retaliation, and your skull practically screamed at you to lie back down again. Slamming a hand over your eye, you felt the spinning of your head slowly fade away. Disoriented and dizzy, the blurriness of your vision began to lift as you blinked, taking in the sight of the room around you.

You didn’t recognize the windowsill at your side or the mattress you were lying on. The closed door stared back at you as your gaze swept over it, almost as if it knew you were confused. Not even the sheets looked familiar.

Where... am I?

You swallowed, something sharp and uneasy prickling up your spine.

What happened?

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you tried to recall the events that had led you up to this moment.

You remembered... cookies. And a picnic. Clay’s hand in yours. There was food, and laughter. Then suddenly, you were queasy. Sick. Something wasn’t right. Then... nothing.

You blanched. Did I pass out?

Just then, you heard the door click, the hinges swinging open with a creak. Your eyes flew open and your breath hitched in your throat, and you turned, your fingers curling tighter into the sheets. Your eyes went wide as Clay walked in, one hand on the handle and the other holding an apple. The moment his eyes met yours, he froze.

“Clay?” you whispered, your voice sounding hoarse.

The apple dropped to the ground.

In an instant, he was in front of you with his hands on your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His emerald eyes bore straight into yours with an intensity that sent your heart reeling. The words flew from his mouth in a flurry, his gaze never leaving yours.

“How are you feeling? Can you hear me? Is everything feeling alrig—”

“Woah, woah,” you said, waving your hand to cue him to stop, “what happened?”

His fingers trembled against your cheeks, and you could have sworn his eyes flashed with something wet. “[Y/N], oh, I’m—” He swallowed, his neck bobbing as he sent you a grateful smile. “I’m just so glad that you’re here.”

His hands pulled away from your face as he stood upright once more, heading for the open door. “Here, I’ll be back in a second.”

You raised your hand toward him, opening your mouth to say something, but he was already gone, having disappeared down the hall in a flash. Blinking, you sat stunned and even more confused than before, left only to wait and hope for an explanation once he returned.

Hardly even two minutes passed before you heard the rumbling of footsteps racing toward the open door. You squeaked when a series of faces filled the room, their cheeks red and chests heaving as they caught their breath. Clay immediately shuffled back to your side, slipping into the space on the bed next to you before grabbing your hand, squeezing.

“[Y/N]!” Niki cried, her eyes filled with panic. “Are you okay?”

Beside her, Tubbo’s hands shook at his side. “We only just heard from Dream that you were awake.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, your mind still hazy with everything that had just happened. Struggling to come up with an answer, you found yourself blurting the first words that came to mind. “How long has it been?”

You saw George shoot Sapnap a look, shrugging his shoulders before glancing back at you. “Uh, like, half a day.”

You shot forward, gaping. “Half a day?!”

Tommy flashed you a bright grin, leaning against Tubbo’s shoulder with a teasing look. “Yeah, you should have seen Dream run around! He spoon fed you regeneration potions and probably even read three whole fuckin’ libraries’ worth of books on poison antidotes while you wer—”

A hand suddenly smacked into Tommy’s skull, and he yelped. Behind him, Wilbur scowled. “Tommy!” he scolded. There was a soft giggle, then Wilbur whirled, his eyes narrowing. “And Quackity.” The giggles stopped. “Don’t think I didn’t see you laughing. This is serious.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay, but it is funn—”

“[Y/N],” Clay suddenly said, cutting Tommy off as his hand squeezed yours.

You blinked, trying to ignore how low his voice sounded right about now. “Y-Yeah?”

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the sheets covering your lower half. “Can you move your legs?”

“Um...” Lifting an arm, you flung the sheets off of you, carefully shifting your leg back and forth. “Y-Yeah. I’m still feeling kind of funny, though.” You wrinkled your nose. “I’m not sure if I can stand, yet.”

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damn. I had a feeling this would happen, but I still wished it wouldn’t.”

Quackity took a step forward, his hand outstretched toward you. “Here, [Y/N], try—”

A snarl ripped itself out of Clay’s throat, and his shout echoed off the walls. “Don’t touch them!”

A tense silence immediately fell over the room, and Quackity back-pedalled, pulling his hand back as if he had burned it on hot coal. You watched as a pang of guilt shot across Clay’s face before he sighed. “Sorry, I mean—” He shook his head, lowering his head. “Fuck.”

Sapnap sent him a small smile, sincere and reassuring. “Hey, man,” he said softly, “it’s alright. We get it. You’re stressed. I’d react the same way if I was in your position.”

Clay raised his chin a little, his lips quirking. “Thanks, Sap.”

Wilbur suddenly spoke up, his eyes trained on you. “Dream, I think we still have some questions we should ask.”

Clay blinked, then nodded. “Right, thanks, Wilbur.” Clearing his throat, he turned to face you head on.” Do you still remember the picnic?” When you nodded, he continued. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

You paused, then shook your head. “Not that I can remember. I woke up, packed up a basket, walked over to the field with you, ate with everyone, then...” You gestured vaguely. “Well, y’know.”

His gaze hardened. “What did you eat?”

You thought for a moment. “Um, I ate an apple, and I had two slices of George’s bread.” You paused again, furrowing your brows. Then, your eyes lit up. “Oh, and I also ate some of the fish.”

Clay stared at you. “Fish?” he parroted.

You bobbed your head, humming. “Yeah. That’s about as much as I remember.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically see the gears turning in Clay’s head. “Did anyone else here eat the fish?” he finally said after a while.

Your friends cast curious looks at one another before George raised his hand, shaking his head. “No.” He jutted his head toward you. “[Y/N] was the first and only person to, I believe.”

Clay pursed his lips. “Tubbo.”

Tubbo jumped, looking panicked and shaky as he stammered out, “Y-Yes, Dream?”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Who exactly brought the fish?”

Tubbo gulped. “Uh, it, um, ah—” He inhaled sharply at the look on Clay’s face, then sighed. “I did, Dream.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Then, Clay sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Oh, it all makes sense now.”

Now, it was Tommy’s turn to speak, his expression clouded with confusion. “How the fuck does that make this make any more sense than it did before?”

Clay suddenly slipped his hand out of yours, your palm meeting nothing as he rose to his full height. You felt the air grow cold.

“Tubbo,” he said slowly, casually—almost too casually. A crooked, charming smile spread across his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of fish was it?”

Tubbo lowered his gaze to the ground. “Pufferfish,” he said in a tiny whisper.

Tommy stared. “Oh.” Understanding flickered across his face before being replaced by horror. “Oh.”

Clay took a step forward, the grin never leaving his face. “Tubbo—”

Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto his wrist before he could take another step. His arm was tense underneath your touch, but he stopped the moment your skin met his. “Clay,” you said quickly, your words rushed and hurried, “stop, please.”

He turned, looking back at you over his shoulder. You shook your head at him. “I’m sure it was an accident. Tubbo would never poison anyone deliberately, let alone me.”

You heard a soft hiccup, then Tubbo spoke. “I-I wouldn’t, I swear it! I just... I thought cooking pufferfish would make them less toxic for other people.”

Niki raised her hand, her face pleading as her eyes darted back and forth between Dream and Tubbo. “I can vouch for him, and not just because we’re friends. He might have built up his own tolerance for pufferfish poison, but I don’t think he realized just how bad it could turn out to be.”

Tubbo nodded frantically, looking smaller than ever as he finally lifted his head. “Seriously, Dream, I would never do it intentionally, I promise.” He turned to look at you, his sides shaking as your gaze met his.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he whispered, honesty and desperation soaking into every syllable he spoke, “I really am.”

Your face softened immediately, and you could only hope he knew how sincere you were being. “I forgive you, Tubbo.” Your eyes flit to the man in front of you. “Do you, Clay?”

You couldn’t see his expression from where you were sitting, but the look of terror on Tubbo’s face said it all. “Yes,” he said, “but only because you do.”

Your grip around his wrist tightened. “Clay, I’m positive. Please, just let it be.” You tugged a little, and he turned, watching as you kicked your legs at him with a small smile. “I’m all better now, see?”

The coldness in his gaze finally seemed to melt, and he shook his head at you, his lips twitching. “Fine.” Walking back over to you, you tucked your legs back against you as he sat on the bed, levelling a glare at the crowd gathered in front of you. “Now everyone, get out.”

There was a whistle. “Jeez, aggressive mu—”

“Tommy,” Wilbur said again, already tugging at the blond’s collar as he tread toward the hall, “an angry Dream is not someone you want to mess with.”

Tommy glowered as everyone filed out of the room, his voice fading away as they disappeared outside. “Ugh, you are such a killjo—”

Sapnap sent you a friendly smile as his hand wrapped around the door handle. “I hope you feel better soon, [Y/N].”

You returned his grin with a grateful look. “Thanks, Sapnap.”

With one last wave, he pulled the door shut, leaving you alone with Clay. Shifting forward slightly, you swung your legs off the bed, nudging him with your side. “Clay?” you murmured, your eyes searching his face. It was at times like this he was easier to read.

With a sigh, he hung his head in his hands, the vein in his neck bulging out. “God, I know he means well, but I still kind of want to wring Tubbo’s neck, right now.”

You leaned against him, pressing your cheek to his bicep. “Clay, don’t say that.”

He lifted his head, growling. “I know, I know! It’s just—”

He bit his lip, then sighed again, his arm reaching up to pull you onto his lap. Shifting you around so that you were facing him, his leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You don’t know how scared I was,” he whispered, sincere and true. “I never want to lose you. Ever.”

Heat crawled up your neck, and your head spun, but not for the same reasons as before. “C-Clay.”

His hand stroked along your back. “It’s the truth, y’know? I’d never lie to you, and I mean every word.” Leaning upward, he pressed his lips to your forehead as he spoke, the words shaking against your skin. “You mean more to me than you may ever know.”

You hummed, your heart blossoming in your chest. “Even if that’s the case,” you said, “you don’t need to be so upset, anymore.” You felt his lips leave your forehead, and you peered up at him through your lashes. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

You leaned back in his arms, reaching up to brush your fingertips over his freckles. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him melt a little at the gesture. “Now,” you said, quiet yet firm, “promise me you won’t be mad at Tubbo the next time you see him.”

He blinked. “W-What?”

You pursed your lips. “Clay.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I promise.” A sly grin slipped onto his face. “But only if...”

You raised a brow at him. “Only if...?”

You half-wanted to smack the stupid grin off his stupidly perfect face. “Only if you give me a kiss.”

You giggled, slipping your arms over his shoulder and around his neck. He always knew how to make you laugh, even at serious times like this. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss. He still tasted like freshly squeezed lemonade, gleaming in the light of the sweet summer sun. You felt him smile against you, and you pulled away mirroring his expression.

“There,” you whispered, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Does that seal the deal?”

He hummed, tilting his head at you while mischief danced in his eyes. “Maybe you should do it again just to make sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across your face.

Your picnic may have been a disaster, but you wouldn’t mind ending your days wrapped in Clay’s arms more often.

1K notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years ago

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I love you. I love your work. That's it. I'm binge reading your fics. But I really had this dream that taehyung was trying to seduce me at work and I refused to give in because I'm professional. I went home and cried for rejecting him. Please write a fic about this for me. Why do I never get the guy even my dreams 😭 I'm a loser.

LMAO this is hilarious. I actually had a dream similarly like this too. I’ve always wanted to go to a fortune teller but the me in my dream was also a cheapskate and ended up not going ahahhaa so I feel you, anon. Hopefully this drabble can grant your dreams.

↳ The Office Trip to Pound Town

2.5k || 70% Smut, 30% Fluff || Kim Taehyung

You’re neck deep in work.

Your hands flurry across the keyboard before you’re saving the document and grabbing your pen to look over the Jeon’s contract that needs to be prepared by tomorrow. There’s barely a moment to breathe, much less look up when there’s a quiet knock at the door and it opens.

“Go ahead with lunch, Wendy. I’ll eat after I finish this.”

“She already left,” a deeper, huskier voice says and your eyes finally flicker up.

Taehyung enters, shutting the door behind him. He’s without his blazer, simply in a white dress shirt tucked into his slacks that you remember you picked out for him a few months ago. His blonde hair is styled so half of it is pushed back to reveal his arched brow and the other half falls in front of his forehead to frame his face. It should be illegal to look this good, but you’re not complaining. It’s always nice to have eye candy around the office. It cures your fatigue.

You smile at him, putting your pen down. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d visit. We’re supposed to be on our lunch break, you know. But of course, you’re always hard at work.”

“How else are the bills going to be paid? Unlike someone, I can’t just dilly-dally.”

Taehyung grins and comes behind you. You learn forward in your office chair, already knowing what he’s about to do. And the moment, Taehyung’s hands lay on your shoulders, a sigh escapes your parted lips. His thumbs dig into a particularly sore muscle, but he massages it out within seconds. You hate how easy it is to melt into his touch.

“Hey, I work hard too.”

You hum. “Not hard enough. I’m coming for your job, Kim. I’m going to get promoted to director of the department and you’ll get demoted to just being the manager.”

Taehyung scoffs. “I’d like to see you try, Mrs. Kim.”

He digs harder into another sore spot and you jolt with a pained moan. You pull away from him and turn your head around. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

Suddenly, he licks his lips and your eyes flicker to the movement. Taehyung’s voice drops an octave — it’s never good when that happens since he knows what that does to you. “Do you know what today is?”

Your eyes are rounded. You quickly scour your mind, but come up empty. “What is it?”

He sighs and starts to roll up his sleeves to his elbows, showing all forearms and the popped veins spiraling up his arms. “I’m disappointed,” Taehyung says in a husky tone. “But then again, I’ve always been the one to pay attention to the details. It’s the first day of your fertile window.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The two of you stare at one another.

He stares at you. You stare at him.

“No. Taehyung, no.”

His mouth starts to twitch and it slowly quirks into a smile. “Come on.”

“It’s unprofessional!”

God fucking dammit. He’s giving you bedroom eyes. And it hits you that the top button of his dress shirt is popped open. Oh god. He came in here just to seduce you, didn’t he?!

“Don’t you want this baby?”

“Yeah, but last time I checked, we have a perfectly good bed at home. King size actually, thanks to someone’s instance.”

“I’m working a late night tonight.” Taehyung comes closer, crowding you with his larger frame and you move back until the office chair can’t even wobble and your side is trapped at your desk. “We can’t waste any more time.”

“Taehyung,” you say his name in a scolding voice, but it’s already weakening by the second. He knows it too.

“You’re not going to make me beg for you, right?” he asks, caging you in with his arms. One of his hands curls around the chair’s armrest and the other is gripping the edge of your desk. “Unless you want me to.”

You swallow hard, resolve crumbling. It’s not like you don’t want to….

You look over his shoulder towards the door that’s shut and the blinds that have long been pulled since your online conference a few hours prior. A beat later, your attention is directed to him and his sly smirk.

Taehyung whispers, “Please?”

With a sigh, you close the distance and you feel Taehyung’s massive grin as he kisses you. He leans down as your mouths are still connected and you fall back into the office chair. Taehyung looms over your frame and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

His hot tongue licks into your mouth, eager and impatient. At the same time, his hands cup your jaw and he coaxes a whimper from you that’s muffled at his lips.

You’re supposed to be the strict, no-nonsense manager on this floor overseeing the rest. It’s pathetic that you can be reduced to a school girl by your husband. Taehyung loves it and truthfully, you don’t mind so much, but if anyone else knew, they’d be shocked.

The pair of you pull away to gasp for breath. The strand of saliva between your mouths break. Your lips are swollen while his are stained with your red lipstick.

“This is so unprofessional,” you whisper to him between pants.

Taehyung smiles sweetly, forehead pressed against yours. “A lot of people already left for their lunch break.”

“That doesn’t mean there aren't people on this floor and right outside the door.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

“It won’t be fun if we lose our jobs.”

“Not if we get this done quickly.” He steps back and starts pulling at his belt. It clicks, unbuckling with ease and your core starts to heat in anticipation for what’s to come. Taehyung doesn’t miss the way you rub your thighs together. He smirks and then gestures to you. “As your superior, I command you to bend over.”

You scoff, but turn around anyhow to lean your front onto the desk. You wince when the papers underneath your hands start to crinkle, but it’s much too late to move them when he roughly shoves up your skirt.

“I could report you to HR for that,” you quip.

“You’d never,” he retorts with a thick voice.

He doesn’t move for a few seconds. You wonder why he hasn’t done anything, if there’s something wrong, but then it occurs to you what he’s eyeing your ass in. “Taehyung. I swear to god—”

The sound of ripping follows.

The bastard’s torn into your black, sheer stockings.

You curse and turn your head around to glare right as he tears down your underwear. “It’s fine. No one will notice. Faster this way.” You suspect he just wants to fuck you while you’re still in stockings, bent over your own desk, but you don’t call him out on it. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Easy for you to say—” You yelp when your left heel is suddenly lifted off the floor. He props your bent leg on the desk and plops down into your leather office chair as if he owns it.

Before anything else can be said, Taehyung dives straight between your plump ass cheeks. He holds your hips in place, fingertips sunk into your skin as his tongue laps at your hole and he moves his face from side to side. A gasp breaks from your vocal cords and you bring one arm back to grab his hair.

“T-There’s no time, Taehyung.”

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, moving to suck a bruise into your right ass-cheek. Taehyung really gives another definition to kissing someone’s ass but rather than feeling like the superior one, you’re keening into him, crumbling at his touch. It’s turning you on how much this is turning him on, with the way he groans into your skin like he’s fully enjoying this, how he’s eager and happy to be on the giving end.

Unintentionally, you push his face closer into your ass and his slender fingers begin to gently caress your slit. Your mouth seals to suppress another moan when his warm tongue licks at your hole again. You can feel the heat of his warm breath against your cunt, so close yet still so far.

A minute later, he comes out panting. “Damn. This is better than any lunch.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s going to be your fault if you don’t get to finish.”

“Relax,” he sing-songs and you can practically hear his grin. “We’ll get there.”

Without much warning, Taehyung plunges his two fingers into your already wet cunt. You keen, failing to silence your whine and your back arches. You don’t see his smirk, how he’s fully enjoying the view while sitting back in the chair. He simply starts pumping his index and middle finger in and out of your heat. Taehyung stretches you out, curling his fingers at a particular spot that has you gripping the edge of your desk until your knuckles have turned white. You try your best not to make a sound, but it’s almost like he’s trying his best to get you to break and be noisy.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re leaking all over my pants.”

Even when he’s behind you, you can feel his intense gaze that’s watching you closely.

It feels degrading to be bent over your own desk like this. You’re practically dancing in the palm of Taehyung’s hand, giving into his every whim without being able to control yourself. But at the same time, all of this, the thought of him claiming your spot and taking you right here was turning you on. You don’t want to admit that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, cheek pressed to your paperwork.

He chuckles lowly. “Alright, alright.”

He pulls his two fingers out of your sopping cunt and sucks on them till they're clean. Then Taehyung stands and lowers his pants just enough to remove his hard cock from his boxers. He pumps it twice and positions the red, leaking head to your swollen entrance.

You’re about to ask him what’s taking so long, but you choke on your words when he enters you with a single push of his hips. Your cunt stretches to accommodate Taehyung’s big cock that’s practically nudging at the entrance of your cervix. Your fingernails curl into the edge of your desk while you fail to stifle the whine that comes out, even when your teeth have sunk into the bottom of your lip.

“S-Sorry,” he groans. “Couldn’t help it. Don’t want to run out of time. Already at twelve forty.”

You turn your head around. “What?!”

But there’s no opportunity to react more. Not when Taehyung grabs your hips, eagerly fucking into you. Like a man on a mission, like he’s making sure he’ll get you pregnant no matter what. He withdraws his cock and then plunges as deep as he can inside your tight cunt, his hips slamming against your ass. Taehyung bends your leg to get at an even deeper angle and you turn back around, trying your best to keep in your moans and quiet the whines of his name.

The urgency of time presses on your minds, but it also fades with the onslaught of pleasure. All the papers underneath you are sure to be crumpled beyond belief, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The pens and pencils fall over to the carpet. Your eyes sting. He’s filling you up so well.

“F-Fuck, this is so hot,” Taehyung groans, watching his cock disappear inside of you with each rapid jut of his hips. How you’re trying to still hold yourself together. The way your stockings have been torn and his underwear and yours are barely pushed away. “You’re so hot.”

“Hurry, Tae!”

He hums and you start to squeeze around him. Taehyung’s hips sputter. His pace falters before quickening urgently and impatiently. “W-Wait, wait.”

Taehyung licks his thumb and finds your clit with ease. You gasp as he rubs circles on the swollen bit and your toes curl. “Tae, Tae—” You’re afraid you’re being too loud, but the concern is overridden when you cum. There’s white flashing beneath your eyelids, a wash of pleasure that renders your knees weak.

Taehyung follows a few seconds later. He plunges in as deep as he can go with brute force and a pitched cry leaves your throat, making him slap his hand over your mouth to keep quiet.

The picture frame of you and Taehyung in Malta on your honeymoon is knocked off.

And then cum paints your velvet, warm walls. It fills your cunt, leaking past his cock. Taehyung pants on top of you and thrusts twice more in spite of your oversensitivity and his own. He holds you still for an intimate moment as you both catch your breaths. Then, he withdraws.

You shakingly get up as he tucks himself back in, buckling his belt again after he snags it off the ground. You try to fix the mess of your hair and he grins, cheeks flushed. Taehyung comes close and his thumb lifts to wipe the smudged mascara at the corner of your eye.

He can’t hold in his smile and giddily hugs you. His face affectionately nuzzles into your hair while you wonder if he knows that his cum is still leaking out of you and dripping down your thigh.

Sometimes the duality of Taehyung is jarring. You wonder how this can be the same man who just bent you over your own desk and pounded into you until there were tears in your eyes. But you suppose that’s what makes him so charming and why you married him. One second, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and spanking you till you call him daddy and the next, he’s pouting and begging you to call his dad for him because he just stubbed his toe against the door and it hurts and he needs advice on what to do.

“Sorry about the ripped stockings.”

“Uh-huh. You better buy me new ones.”

“I will.”

The pair of you pull apart and he pulls a tissue for you to wipe yourself with as you sit down and peel off the stockings once and for all to throw into the trash. If someone asks, you’ll tell them it ripped on its own.

“Well, at least that was fun, right?” Taehyung smiles as you put yourself back together.

You eye him. “What time?”

“Pardon?”

“What time are you done with the meeting?”

Taehyung blinks, not sure where you’re going with this. “Probably at eight.”

“I’ll be at your office at eight ten then,” you state plainly. “It’s only fair. I can’t be the only one having my office destroyed.”

Slowly but surely, an enormous grin spreads into his face. Taehyung leans in to kiss your cheek. “It’s a promise then.”

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung reader insert #bts reader insert #lol i can finally use the smut tag #although it's babymaking sex again #ahhh sorry I'm not very creative with smut premises #I feel like I've already done this before #but it's such a classic trope #I can't help itttt!!!#anyway hope you can enjoy it anon #your message made me lol #Jimlings #Anonymous

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artxyra · 4 years ago

Text

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 3

Part 3 - Welcome to Gotham, now get out!

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Arriving in Gotham was just an absolutely massive mess, that quickly turned into a several page report for Marinette to send to the school board the moment she arrived in her temporary dorm at Gotham Academy.

Let recap back to the airport. When everyone got off the plane, Lila was quick to make up an excuse about Bruce Wayne sending her a private limo that she’ll be happy to bring the class along. Of course, Caline Bustier, absently believed the long-time liar telling her students to gather their belongings and for Lila to call the Waynes. It was as if she had completely forgotten the arrival procedures. Arriving in Gotham, proceed to find the bus driver, and meet up with the Gotham Academy Headmistress to retrieve the rest of the plans for the month. Marinette tried to tell Caline that what they were doing was against the procedure, something that she had to memorize for moments like this, only to be lectured about behavior the second she finished talking off to the side.

Then when they finally arrived at the school, Caline had the nerve to lecture her again about not informing her about the bus before being dragged off by the Gotham Academy headmistress, who clearly was not happy with the decisions made before they could even step foot onto the school grounds. Gotham is not a place to dilly dally unless you know the area or a native.

“Do you think, she’ll be fired after this?” Chloe asks while setting her things into the wardrobe as Marinette clicks the save button on her laptop.

“Maybe, no matter what happens, we’re here for a month regardless of the decisions the GA headmistress and Principal De La Fontaine decides in the coming days. All I know as the class president and temp. TA; my job is to help her overlook you guys.” Marinette sighs and closes the laptop's top before giving Chloe her full attention.

“I still can’t believe you graduated early. Though Adrien and I are grateful you managed to stay despite everything.” It was rare moments like these that made Marinette glad that she gave Chloe a second chance. Chloe had apologized one winter when she was freezing to death outside because her parent went on a tropical vacation on her request and decided to allow the staff to take a few days off. It was Sabine and Tom that took the former bully into their arms and made her feel loved, a love that she rarely receives from her parents. Since that day, Chloe takes pride in the honor of being Marinette’s sister just as Adrien did when they took him in also.

“I couldn’t leave you guys to perish in that class. Also, I just didn’t want to give Lie-la the satisfaction of winning.” Marinette says as her phones with the familiar sounds of “The Other Side” by Ruelle. Instantly, Marinette picks up the phone and smiles. “It’s Damian, he wants to go out tonight. Think I have time before—”

“Go, I’ll keep you from trouble, maybe even invite Adrien over if he isn’t doing the same with Jon.” Chloe pushes the noirette out of their room before closing the door behind the designer with a smirk on her lips.

As Marinette makes her way out of the dormitory, little did she know that Lila was just doing the same but for a different reason.

~*~

Damian Wayne @therealbloodheir I had a wonderful night with my beloved. I can’t wait for more nights like these. [Attached is an image of two hands intertwine with each other with the moon shining between them.]

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Replying to @therealbloodheir That sounds like a marriage proposal. Missing you too.

~*~

In the halls of Gotham Academy, conversations buzz around the single fact that Nette was back in Gotham for the first time in weeks. Groups of students gather around a single person, whose phone is out in the open, all gushing about theories on how the date went.

The same can be said for GA’s exchange students who crowd around Lila Rossi like she was the air.

“Gurl, spill, how was the date? You’re tending on twitter, again!” Alya squeals, gripping Lila’s arm.

“Oh you, it was truly romantic. Damiboo took me on this romantic dinner, but the first place we went to didn’t serve any vegetarian meals, and as you know I’m one but he’s not. We left and found another place that was just right.” Her high pitch voices drive a shiver down people spines, well anyone that is in clear hearing distance to the Italian teen's voice range.

“Do they truly believe that she’s Nette. Bitch please, we all know that Nette has dark hair from the back of the head photos on twitter.” A random student scoffs behind the trio.

The trio turns around looking at the person in a new light. The student had long braided blonde hair and wearing the GA uniform. “You’re not fooled? I was pretty sure that she would try and convert you the moment you step foot into the building.” It was Adrien that spoke first.

“I'm Allegra, besides me is Claude and Allen.” The student says shaking hands with Adrien before continuing with, “Anyone with brain cells can tell you that she is not Nette from @GothamsFashionSense.”

Allegra then takes the empty seat beside Marinette.

“Name’s Marinette, these dorks are Adrien and Chloe.” Marinette says, “About the brain cell thing, we’ve been saying that since she joined our class a few years back.”

“It ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, as to how they manage to hang on her every word. And one of them is a self-proclaim reporter. The bitch hasn’t reported anything remotely true since the liar had joined us and don't get me started on her early years.” Chloe places her two cents into the conversation.

This was the start of a blooming relationship.

Claude, Allegra, and Allen were quick to understand the environment that the Paris Trio was living in. An irresponsible, enabling teacher and a class full of idiots. With the Gotham Trio, the Paris Trio was able to understand how Gotham Academy works and learn the ins and outs of specific places. Despite the fact that Marinette vaguely knows just about much.

~*~

“So, how were your first three days at GA?” Dick Grayson asks as the Paris trio who are sitting on the couch inside the living room of Wayne Manor. "Is it about the same as it was when I went?"

“Dicky, I am this close to making heads roll.” Chloe’s fingers are teaching as a look of crazy twitches in her eyes.

“It wasn’t all that bad the first couple of days and then Lila tried to convince GA students that she was me by photoshopping our twitter photos. Other than that, I’m more worried about when Bustier announces that our class has been invited to the upcoming Wayne Gala. I’m already booked with mine and Chloe’s dresses along with Selina’s and Cass’s.” Marinette says, resting her head on Damian’s shoulder as their hands' interlock. Damian places a quick peck on her forehead.

The room was once again oddly silent before Adrien let out a loud giggle.

The family turns to the model who was staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. Adrien was no doubt in a group chat with Luka and Jon about upcoming meetings and plans.

“What?” Adrien asks, looking up to the group of extended family members staring at him. They all quickly look away, some whistling while others mess with the person they are next to. “Seriously guys, what?” The whining in Adrien’s voice just made it harder for them to pretend to do something as they hold in a laugh.

“Nothing,” Marinette snickers as Damian brings to play with her hair by braiding strands of it. She always liked it when Damian messed with her hair, he sometimes does something nice, surprising everyone with his styling skills.

“Hey, Pixie-Pop and Pixie-Pop’s friends. When did you guys get in?” It’s Jason, to which majority had forgotten about even though Tim was a close second as he is hovering over a half-full cup of coffee trying to stay awake but isn’t with them in reality. Maybe Marinette should make her special concoction that would knock anyone out for quite some time.

“Hey Mari, can you make the switch?” Dick whispers in the designer’s ear. Marinette huffs agreeing to the older sibling’s request. Damian nearly groans as his girlfriend gets off his lap and walks into the kitchen.

Marinette comes out nearly ten minutes later with a steaming coffee mug in hand. She walks over to Tim and pushes his cup out of his hand and replaces it with hers. Tim, absently, takes a sip. Within seconds he is knocked out, cold.

“I’ll never not be amazed at how fast your drink can knock Tim out,” Dick says as he picks up Tim and exits the room. Marinette shrugs and takes her seat next to Damian.

“When does Cass get back from her trip?” It was Chloe who decided to break the silence between them.

“Before the gala, that’s for sure,” Jason answers as he pulls out the controllers for the game console. He gives Marinette a knowing look, who smirks with mischief in her eyes. He should know better than to play against Marinette.

~*~

It was times like this that made Marinette wish that the school board had investigated Mlle. Bustier years ago, like for example when the liar first tried to get her expelled in college. Yeah, that was such a long time ago.

Today was supposed to be an easy-going day, but for some reason, Lila managed to convince the teachers, Mlle. Bustier specifically, to allow the class to visit a nearby street mall. Mlle. Bustier, of course, agrees despite the GA teachers telling her that it was a bad idea to let the student go out unsupervised in a place they still don’t know much about. Caline laughs it off stating that they’ll be fine, and it’ll be just like walking down the streets in Paris. That added another dash to her inability to be a proper teacher.

Which brings us to the street mall. Lila was going into stores left and right proclaiming to be Damian Wayne’s girlfriend or stating that she is the niece of some high profile celebrity in hopes of getting free or discounted items. That doesn’t dwell well seeing as Gothamites are not as gullible as Parisians.

The Paris Trio along with the GA Trio watch the mess that she was drumming up from afar. Chloe had invited Allegra to join them which then extended to Claude and Allan who wanted to go for the arcade.

Lila even had the nerve to ask Adrien to join her and Alya shopping trips with the underlying message of making him pay. Once being denied on numerous occasions, Alya managed to steal Nino’s wallet in hopes of paying for all their stuff. Yeah, that didn't help their relationship status.

“Alya I told you that money wasn’t for you,” Nino screams into his girlfriend’s face as she tries to come up with an excuse. He was infuriated.

“Nino, baby, if you love me you would have just given me the money. Lila really needed those items for her date with Damian.”

“I don’t care about Lila’s need; she is not my responsibility. In fact, neither are you, Alya. You just spent the money I had saved up for this trip.” Nino had wanted to go into a DJ shop that sold the equipment he wanted and started saving the moment the trip was announced the year before.

“Stop bitching, it was only a couple hundred dollars.”

Oohs and side-eyes make up the crowd they were drawing. It was a free drama tv for them.

“Ooh what do we have here, a lovers quarrel? Now would be the perfect time to spring my new trap.” Suddenly, it was like time freezes.

~*~

Chloe B. @QueenBeeOfParis The best thing about my idiotic classmates is television drama. #savemefromthem

Tina @thepinkmistress I was finding my own business when this shit happens. [Attach is a video clip of a couple arguing and goons dress in green takes over the streets]

Tim Drake’s Bish @rachelcovefe The nerve of this group. Just finished my shift only to be told by some foreigner that she was @GothamsFashionSense like bish please I know you ain't her. #anotherdayingotham

Kimmy @kimmyontheblock Replying to@rachelcovefe OMG same but she then added in that she was Jagged Stone's niece. Um excuse you but we all know that it's @MDCfashion

Mari Needs Coffee @MarinetteMemes So the first relaxing day in Gotham ruined by the Riddler and Lie-la’s fanatics. Yup, so good to be back. #memescomingsoon #goodgrief #imabouttoheadout

Part 4 >>

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

Note: The SPECIFIC Tag list is officially closed. If you wanted to follow the story please mark the tag fic:The Secret Life of MDC.

#daminette #maribat #teacher assistant au #teacher assistant Marinette AU #ta marinette #fic:The Secret Life of MDC #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #damimari

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Note

horny/soft beauty and the beast - geralt letting jaskier undress him?

Hey guys this is just...incredibly soft. So soft all the way through. This is cotton candy wrapped in marshmallow fluff levels of sugary sweet.

also shout-out to @valdomarx whose Delicate Sensibilities Geralt has inspired some of my Beast characterization.

tw: Geralt is drunk ---

Both Jaskier and Geralt had been in their cups at dinner, but the Witcher had found a way to sink straight to the bottom of his. Jaskier had heard from the villagers that it was impossible for Witchers to get inebriated, but his Beast was proving yet another rumor untrue as he stumbled across the short length of his bedroom and sat heavily on the edge of the mattress. Jaskier sat beside him and began to unhook one of the tiny pearl buttons at Geralt’s left wrist, “Alright, darling, let’s get you into your nightclothes and then I’ll tuck you into bed.”

“Jaskier, ‘m hot,” the Beast whined. He flapped his arms childishly and gave his betrothed a pleading, wide-eyed look.

“If you’d like me to help you take your shirt off then you’ll have to quit squirming, Geralt,” Jaskier scolded. Geralt stilled his frenetic movements and his consort smiled indulgently over at him, “Usually you’re so particular about being apart from each other when we undress.”

The Witcher scooted nervously back towards his pillows and sighed heavily, “You’re right. Would be ‘mproper for you to see me like this.”

“I don’t see how me helping you get ready for bed is improper,” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Soon enough we’ll both be sleeping in the same enormous bed and we won’t be wearing anything at all!”

Geralt’s face flushed and he gazed intently at the flagstones that made up the floor. His hands clasped and unclasped in his lap and he bit his lip before whispering, “Not until Candlemas.”

“That isn’t very far off, dear heart, now come here.”

The Beast released another nervous sound but hastened to obey; Jaskier was constantly in awe that this castle of a man would ever listen to someone like him, but Geralt always followed his consort’s instructions. Even when the younger man’s requests were unpleasant or annoying to him, he did as he was asked. It thrilled Jaskier to the core that he was the only man alive who could order the Beast around and expect those orders to be carried out to the letter.

Jaskier began to unbutton the left sleeve again, unhooking the three tiny buttons that held the cinched wristband closed. The sleeves of this particular tunic were billowy and kept getting in the way. “You look like a fairy tale illustration, love, it’s really not fair to my delicate heart.”

“Hmm?”

“You look like a Prince, my sweet. You and your puffy, dark shirtsleeves and your high-waisted black leather breeches with all those tempting buttons. Your tall black boots with the straps and the buckles. The sword belt you always wear and the double scabbard you take when you go hunting... The way you look when you’re poised with a bow in the practice yard, all hard lines and strong arms,” the peasant was waxing poetic as he moved from Geralt’s left wrist to his right. “I wish it was Candlemas tomorrow, dear heart. I wish we could be married already so that I could stop sleeping all alone down the hall and be here at your side where I feel warmest and safest.”

“Do you...want me?” Geralt whispered. He sounded terrified and Jaskier’s head snapped up, locking their gazes together. “Like that?”

“Of course I want you, my precious Beast.” The peasant cupped Geralt’s face with both hands and brought their foreheads together. “I love you, Witcher. I love every scarred and tired inch of you. From your moonlight hair to your golden eyes. From your strong, square jaw to the tips of your boots. I love you, Geralt, more than I have loved anyone or anything else before in my life.”

The Beast gave up on words and nuzzled down into Jaskier’s neck with wild abandon. He kissed and nibbled whatever skin was available and reveled in his consort’s breathy laugher. “Geralt! That tickles!”

“Good.”

“Hush! Cease!” the peasant boy demanded, gently slapping Geralt’s chest as if he was fighting back. “And let me finish getting your shirt off.”

---

“You really want me?” Geralt asked, looking up at Jaskier with oddly wet eyes. He’d finally managed to wrangle the Witcher out of his shirt (he’d crossed his arms over his chest like a prudish Countess the entire time he was ‘indecent’) and into his sleeping clothes. Now he was tucked beneath the covers, his head pillowed atop the crossed legs of his betrothed.

Jaskier gathered his fiancée’s head into his lap and smiled serenely down at him. Geralt breathed in, smelling the honey-chamomile contentment rolling off his consort in little pulsing waves. The beat of his heart, the Witcher smiled.

Jaskier ran his fingers through the Beast’s long white hair in a soothing rhythm, singing softly as he continued the soothing movement:

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly,

Lavender's green,

When you are King, dilly dilly,

I shall be Queen.

“Lavender’s green dilly, dilly

Lavender’s blue,

You must love me, dilly, dilly

For I love you.

“‘Who told you so, dilly dilly,

Who told you so?’

'Twas my own heart, dilly dilly,

That told me so.’”

By the time he’d finished the final verse, Geralt was asleep in his lap. And perhaps Jaskier stayed just a moment longer than was proper. Perhaps he kissed Geralt on the forehead and dreamed of the day when he could burrow down beside his husband and fall asleep in utter safety.

Perhaps.

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dhwty-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Dialogue prompt: “you feel so deeply for everyone, let someone feel deeply for you.”

Thank you, lovely person, for this wonderful prompt! I’m sorry this took a while, it got very long. I also just realised as I was uploading this, that the prompt isn’t exactly what you asked for. I hope you like it regardless!

Warnings: None, except for utter dumbassery on these two idiots’ parts

Read on AO3

The room at their inn was infuriatingly quiet, the silence only broken by the scratch of Jaskier's quill. It drove Geralt mad. It drove him mad and yet he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling above the bed.

Not because of the obvious reasons. Not because it was annoying or too loud or anything.

No, it drove him mad, because he lacked the words to fill the silence. Two dozen times Geralt opened his mouth to say something, two dozen times he closed it again.

Then he sat up with a start. "What would you like to do this evening?" he blurted out.

The maddening scratching stopped for a moment, accompanied by a weary sigh. "Gee, Geralt, what kind of question is that?"

"Hmm." Yeah, what kind of question was that? A stupid one, that's what.

"I don't know, sleep?” The scratching started again. “I'm tired." Jaskier yawned to prove his point.

Geralt ground his teeth and turned onto his other side. He had just wanted to do something nice for his bard. But now the opportunity had passed, now he had to work up the courage again. He fell asleep, still ruminating how utterly stupid he had been.

The thing was, doing something nice for another person wasn't necessarily Geralt's forte. Melitele's tits, even being nice was not his forte! He was a witcher and witchers killed monsters. Niceties and manners had a very low priority in Kaer Morhen’s curriculum.

The other thing was, Jaskier deserved someone being nice to him. He couldn't quite say what it was, but the bard had grown on him over the years. First a slight annoyance and liability, then a reliable travel companion until he felt comfortable calling him his friend. Best friend, even. Which, given that he was his only friend, wasn’t very hard. And now—

Something had changed, something Geralt did not quite dare to name. All he knew was that whenever he looked at his bard, his cheeks and chest grew warm and his stomach and heart did funny things they weren't supposed to.

And that he wanted to do something nice for the bard.

A few weeks after the Question Incident, Geralt had finally worked up the courage to try once more. Given his previous experience, he had decided not to ask the bard again. That way at least, he didn’t run risk to ruin it with his incompetence with words again.

He did, however, hold the belief that words were the key to this tricky situation. Jaskier was a bard, a poet, a minstrel. He liked words. So, Geralt decided to by him a pretty book full of pretty words.

They had managed to arrive in town during market day, which was quite fortunate indeed. Books were pricey, and usually unattainable in the smaller towns. But here he was quick to succeed.

The book was almost comically tiny and abhorrently expensive, but the vendor assured him that it was all the rage in Cidaris at the moment. Even better than that, it was not written by hand, but rather by a very new invention called a ‘printing press’. Needless to say, Geralt was fascinated and excited to have found such a perfect gift for his bard. He slapped down a pouch of coins onto the counter and quickly returned to their inn.

The book was strategically placed onto the rickety desk in the corner and he forced himself to busy himself with his swords as he waited for his friend to return.

It did not take long until Jaskier burst into the room with the usual flurry of words and quickly discarded clothes. Normally, Geralt paid him no mind, but on that day, he was watching him like a hawk. That was how he was fortunate enough to witness the exact moment the bard spotted the book.

Jaskier froze mid-sentence and pointed at it: “What’s this?”

“’S for you,” Geralt mumbled. “I found it.”

He drew closer to the desk and flipped the cover open with two fingers, as far away from the folio as possible. And hissed. Jaskier actually hissed. “What is this?” he demanded again. “And what is it doing here, in our room?”

“A book,” he replied confused. “Poems, they said. ‘S good, they said.”

“Poems!” he exclaimed. “Those aren’t poems, Geralt, those are the uninspired rhymes by a talentless wastrel, who stole my verses! I hope you didn’t spend any money on it, I wouldn’t give a copper for any composition by Valdo Marx.”

Geralt looked at the sword in his lap. ‘Fuck.’

“I’m going to burn it,” Jaskier declared and Geralt leapt to his feet, shouting: “No!”

The rest of their stay in town was spent wrestling the book from his bard, so he couldn’t chuck it into the fireplace before Geralt had a chance to pawn it off again. Somehow, he felt even stupider than the last time.

~*~

Words were off the table, then, so he opted for a more direct-action approach. One of the many things he had learned about the bard in all those years, was that he enjoyed food. Good food, specifically.

They made camp, Geralt decided that Jaskier deserved a nice meal. He went off to hunt and forage, leaving the bard in charge of setting up the camp and caring for Roach. After his initial mistrust of his companion’s animal handling skills, Jaskier had quickly proven himself quite capable. At least more capable than looking for food in the wild.

When he returned an hour and a half later, he was quite proud with himself. He had managed to catch a fat rabbit and found a whole array of mushrooms and berries that would surely please the bard. They were brightly coloured, just as he was.

Smiling broadly and not-humming under his breath—they had talked about that, witchers didn't hum, definitely not—he set about preparing the meal while Jaskier went off to do the laundry in a nearby stream. Fair's fair, after all.

The sun had set and the stew was almost done, when he returned. "That smells—” He wrinkled his nose.

'Oh no,' Geralt thought, icy dread rushing through his veins. That wasn't good. One wasn't supposed to wrinkle their nose when smelling food. Besides, there was nothing to wrinkle one's nose about. The stew smelled delicious.

However, he appeared to have done a grievous mistake, for the displeased expression on Jaskier’s face did not fade. "Geralt," he said warily, "what are you doing?"

"Cooking," he replied, pointing at the pot simmering over the fire. This time, at least, it was Jaskier asking the stupid questions. "Mushrooms and rabbit."

"Mushrooms," Jaskier repeated and pointed at a few leftovers. "Those mushrooms?"

"Hmm." He did not like where this was going.

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier's face fell, an absolutely revolting expression of compassion and bemusement. "Those are poisonous!"

Geralt stared at him. Stared back at the stew. Back at him. The stew. "Fuck."

~*~

Alright, so what Geralt needed was a fool-proof plan. A witcher-proof plan, rather. I plan he could absolutely not muck up, no matter how hard he tried. It took him a month and a half to come up with one.

Then, he decided it was best to put such delicate matters into someone else’s hands. Hooves, rather.

“Geralt,” Jaskier complained loudly as the heat bore down on them relentlessly. “Please, have some mercy on me. I can’t. I just can’t anymore.” This had been going on for hours. “How long’s it been, Geralt? How long’s it been since we had a rest? Since the sweat dripping from my brow wasn’t watering dried weeds on the road side? Since I had but a sip of water?”

He cast his eyes upwards. “About four hours since you took a morning bath in that stream,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And you’d have something to drink, had you not insisted on upending your water over your head.”

“You’re a cruel man, witcher,” the bard whined. Geralt could hear the pout in his voice. “The reason for my demise, even. My blisters have got blisters, I think my feet are about to fall off. And whose fault will it be? Yours, my friend yours alone—”

Geralt jerked on Roach’s reins; he had heard quite enough of those baseless accusations. The bard, however, didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he just kept on babbling and walking—limping, really. He couldn’t help but smile. “Jaskier,” he said far too fondly as he hopped off the saddle.

He spun around, a confused look on his face. “What?”

“Come here.” He gestured at Roach. “Maybe this’ll give your feet some rest.” In the privacy of his mind, he added: ‘And my ears, as well.’

Eagerly, Jaskier hurried over to him. “Are you being serious?”

He rolled his eyes and laced his fingers together, offering to give him a boost. When Jaskier still didn’t move, he growled: “Come on, before I change my mind.”

“Alright, alright,” the bard mumbled. Shortly after, he was safely in the saddle, grinning from ear to ear, as he patted Roach’s neck. “Gotta admit it,” he said smugly, while Geralt adjusted the stirrups, “I kind of missed this. Thank you, Geralt.”

He mumbled something unintelligible and waved him to be on his way, as he got all of his friend’s useless weight situated on his back. It did not take much urging for the bard to ride ahead and leave Geralt trailing behind.

In all fairness, what happened next was only loosely his fault. Maybe he should have paid better attention to the road. Maybe he should have walked beside Roach, ready to grab her reins if anything went wrong. Maybe.

But he was, after all, only a man. Only a man who was not only confronted with the fact that his bard had a rather lovely bottom, but also that said lovely bottom was right in his line of sight, if he walked behind Roach just so. Information he’d certainly file away again for later, if his bard was dilly-dallying again.

Still, maybe he shouldn’t have let himself be distracted quite as much by the sight. And he probably should have seen the bandits waiting at the side of the road well in advance. He definitely should have realised sooner what exactly was happening and come to Jaskier’s rescue.

Alas, none of that had been the case.

A piercing scream had ripped him out of his silent contemplation and next thing he knew, Roach was gone, Jaskier was lying on the ground and he had four, admittedly not very skilled, crooks to contend with.

Once that was done, he crouched down next to his friend, fretting nervously. “Are you alright?” he asked anxiously, skimming his hands all over Jaskier’s body to check for injuries. “Did you break something? Any blood, any pain? How’s your head feeling?”

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he insisted, batting the hands away. “Melitele’s tits, Geralt, please tell me I’m not that insufferable.”

He sat back on his haunches, unable to do anything but stare. This was nothing like he had planned.

Jaskier sighed heavily and waved his hand. “Just… go check on your horse.”

Bereft of any other options, that was exactly what he did.

~*~

Autumn was almost upon them and Geralt was running out of options. After the Question Incident, the Book Catastrophe, the Mushrooms and the Wannabe Robbers, a number of other disastrous mishaps had followed, the most prominent among those being the Tavern Brawl, the Brothel Failure, and the Library Ban.

What he had learned during all those horrifying events, was that the only way he could ever even hope to do something nice for his bard was with a town, meticulous planning, and the radical elimination of any and all possible liabilities.

The first two, he had excelled at, this time. There was a town, there was an inn, there was a room they rented for five days. The first three of them, Geralt had spent conspiring with the innkeeper and her wife, who found them and his efforts ‘absolutely adorable’ and who were more than willing to aid him in his ‘display of his undying love’. Both of those were rather weird notions, but Geralt was so close, so close, he had no time to bother with semantics.

It was the fourth day and everything was going perfect. The tub was prepared, the tavern was quiet, the bath salts and scented oils and soaps his bard loved so much bought. And the bard did not suspect a thing.

All that was left to do know was fetch Jaskier and finally, finally do something nice for him.

That last thing was easier than he had anticipated; they practically ran into each other on the way out of the tavern. “Jaskier!” Geralt said.

“Geralt!” Jaskier said.

“I’ve got something for you,” they both said.

Geralt blinked.

Jaskier blinked.

“You go first,” Geralt growled.

“Great!” The bard was bouncing on the balls of his feet. That was never a good sign. He didn’t know, however, how much of a not-good sign it was until Jaskier produced a sheet of paper from his sleeve. “Look! It’s a contract!”

‘Fuck,’ Geralt thought. ‘I should’ve gone first.’ “Shit,” he said. “I can’t take it.”

“What?!” he balked. “What are you talking about, you have to take it! That’s a hundred crowns, Geralt, that’ll last us weeks! I know you’ve been going all stir-crazy these past few days; you’re even more quiet and taciturn than usual.”

That wasn’t exactly untrue. Four days of conspiring had taken their toll. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, just a couple of drowners.”

Geralt growled and snatched the page out of his hand. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he promised and stormed off.

He wasn’t back in an hour. It wasn’t a couple of drowners, either.

Instead, he returned two hours past sundown, drenched in mud, every bone in his body hurting like fuck, the heads of a couple of drowners and a fucking water hag. He hated water hags. Not because they were specifically difficult to kill, but because they just kept lobbing mud at him and that was all he needed for a day to qualify as truly revolting.

He stomped to the house of the alderman, collected the payment and then dragged himself up to their inn room, where he was greeted by a far too cheery bard. “You’re back!” he exclaimed and almost lunged to embrace him, when he spotted the mud and guts all over him. “Eww,” he sneered. “You, my dear witcher, need a bath.”

On any other day, Geralt would have readily agreed. Maybe even on this day. But then, Jaskier declares: “Luckily, our gracious hosts have been so kind to already provide us with one.” He stepped out of the way and, to Geralt’s horror, presented a wooden bathtub with candles and rose petals and a nice embroidered linen sheet to avoid any annoying splinters. “Come here, friend, and take a bath.”

“No, you take a bath,” he blurted before he had even time to think about the words coming out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Jaskier wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I’m not the one smelling like he just got dunked into the swamp and then took a nap in the pigpen. You take a bath, Geralt, or you sleep with Roach tonight!”

Accepting his fat, his shoulders fell. “Fuck.”

~*~

It was almost winter, almost time to separate for months, and Geralt almost admitted defeat. Almost. But, of course, he didn’t even manage that.

Honestly, after nigh nine months of trial and error (mostly error) it shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, that even this final opportunity was a complete and utter failure in regards to his plans. How it still did was beyond him.

The door to their inn room shut behind them with a bang, Jaskier leaning against it to block any means of escape. "Geralt of Rivia," he declared boldly, probably as menacing as he could, "what are you playing at?"

"Hm?" he tried innocently.

"Oh, no,” he laughed throatily and raised an accusatory finger, drawing closer with each word. “Oh no, my friend, don't you 'hm' me. You,” the finger poked into his chest, “are acting weird."

"Hmm."

He huffed. "At least we can agree about that. So. What are you playing at? Because I tell you, this has been going on for months and I can't decide whether you are trying to mock me, insult me, or kill me!"

"None of that," Geralt was quick to assure.

"Well, then, what is it?"

His eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for a way out of this. But Jaskier was directly in front of him, trapping him against the bed, and still blocking the way to the door. There was nowhere to run, so he decided to go for the truth: "I'm trying to do something nice for you!"

The bard gawked at him. Then, he blurted: "What on earth are you talking about?!"

He didn’t say a thing.

“Geralt!” Jaskier took another step forward and as Geralt’s calves hit the mattress, his knees buckled and he sat down involuntarily.

"I—” He threw up his hands in defeat. How on earth was he supposed to explain all of those confusing things going on inside of him. Before he could come up with a satisfying answer, his mouth started talking on his own: “You care so deeply for everyone, let someone care deeply for you."

Silence fell over the room, as Jaskier kept staring and Geralt kept avoiding his gaze. Then, the bard suddenly crouched down, with the exact same expression he had after The Mushrooms. “Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier said in that soft tone he just couldn't quite understand. 'Fond,' his mind supplied, 'adoring.'

"Please," he begged, hiding his face against the reassuring shoulder of his friend, "this has been hell. I tried everything I could think of, and it all failed. Just tell me. Tell me how I can do something nice for you. I'd do anything, anything at all."

"Anything, you say?" He laughed, a playful undertone sneaking into his voice. "Well then, heroic witcher, I would like a kiss,” he said, accompanied by a wink.

Geralt wasn't thinking. If he had been, he'd probably stopped himself. But since any cerebral activity had ceased to exist, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips to the bard's mouth in a chaste kiss.

It was over almost before it had begun, the bard spluttering with surprise: "I- You- I was joking!"

Oh. Fuck. Well, that certainly was a way to end a year of embarrassments. "I'm sorry," he blurted and backed away, frantically scooting back on the bed, only to be stopped by Jaskier's hands.

“I—umm—shit!” Jaskier cursed; now it was him who was avoiding Geralt’s gaze.

He snorted. No hunched shoulders or ducked head could hide the crimson cheeks of his bard. “You’re blushing.”

“Well, you’re an idiot!” he countered. And, well, Jaskier certainly was not prone to be a liar. “I didn't think you’d actually do it, you daft witcher,” he hissed, before his face grew soft and he smiled again, invitingly. “But I also didn't say you should stop.”

It was a terrible line. It was a terrible line and they both knew it. Evidently, they both didn’t care. As soon as the words had left Jaskier’s mouth, they surged forward. It was surreal, really, to finally be granted permission. To finally be able to taste Jaskier’s lips, to pull him in, close, closer, until he was straddling his thighs. To finally be able to dispose of his doublet, push his hands under his shirt and up his back and—

Breathlessly, Geralt pulled away. “I love you,” he blurted.

Jaskier sighed quietly and smiled. “I know,” he whispered and pecked him on his cheek. “You show it in a thousand little ways, every day.” He pecked him on the other cheek.

“I know,” Geralt replied and kissed him on the mouth. “You tell anyone who would listen.”

He chuckled and kissed him again. “I never dared to dream you’d love me like this,” he murmured against his lips.

“But I do.”

“You know,” Jaskier said, playing with the clasps of his armour, “that was awfully nice of you. But if you’d life to do another nice thing for me, to make up for lost time, so to speak, I’ve got a couple of ideas in my mind.”

Geralt groaned and pull away, flopping backwards onto the bed. “No,” he said stubbornly, shoving at the bard who tried to kiss him again. “Nope, not in a thousand years. That was it, you ruined it. Enough nice things for you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jaskier whined. “It wasn’t that terrible. Cheesy, yes, I’ll accept even tacky, but certainly not tasteless enough to warrant such a cruel punishment.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

Jaskier crossed his arms and pouted. “Alright, maybe it was,” he conceded.

Geralt huffed his agreement, stretching out his hands for his bard’s hips, already tired of this game.

“Regardless,” a smug grin spread on his face as he shimmied closer, “you love me too much to deny me for long.”

“Yeah.” Geralt smirked as well and put his arms around Jaskier’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. “Yeah, I do.”

#prompt fill #kimception98 #look i've got an ask #geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier

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vinylhazza · 4 years ago

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Morgan, i NEED a blurb about e not being able to stop playing with your pussy. Like imagine it’s late at night and your reading or something and he’s just under the covers kitten licking you and just non stop touching you, poking his finger in your hole every so often and you tell him “come on e i wanna sleep” and he just comes up, lies on your chest and is like “but i wanna...” and starts to finger you while kissing your neck making you give in to him😫🥺

irresistible | ethan dolan

oh my God he literally would.not.leave.you.alone.

this could be when you’re at dinner, reading your book like you said, watching a show, on your laptop, just laying out by the pool, on the phone, he’s fucking always touching you. hands always roaming. he never stops. and it makes you feel powerful because - are you that irresistible? and the answer is yes. to ethan, you are just that irresistible.

it was your favorite book in the whole world and even if it was your thousandth time reading it, it still got you so enraptured every single time. you had always been such a heavy reader all your life, and when you had those pages open in front of you - not much else caught your attention. you were gone. that is - until you met ethan and noticed just how much he craved your attention and got a little jealous when you were so engrossed in other tasks besides loving up on him. it didn’t matter if it was laundry or dishes, making the bed, watering the flowers, or other mundane tasks that a human needs to do. you soon realized just how clingy the man actually was for you.

it wasn’t in a negative “you can’t love anything else besides me” way. it was really just this innocent need he had that he got a little carried away with sometimes. nothing spiteful or truly vendictive. it was just that ethan loved to see you so happy, and he almost couldn’t help himself when he noticed the joy radiating off of you - and he couldn’t come and make it even better for you. he always crept in to bring that happiness to the next level, that’s why you never minded about his subtle dose of clinginess.

it started out as innocent little whines while he’s laying next to you in bed, little pecks on the cheek, tracing patterns into the soft skin of your arms and down to your thighs. it was always “pay attention to me now” with a soft whisper that made goosebumps pop up all over your body.

but none of that was as distracting as his new habit. ethan has become obsessed with playing with your pussy at all times of the day. that meant he was either down on his knees, worshipping you with his tongue, slurping and stroking and sucking, slapping his lips against your folds and moaning into you with this verbato that - fuck - sends shudders down to the tips of your fingers. or he was rubbing slow deliberate circles on her clit with his fingers. maybe sometimes both. the sensations shoot through you like a zap of electricity. it’s maddening, just so incredibly distracting you’re surprised you get anything done at all.

you used to wish for an alternative for his touchiness, but you’re not sure this is what you were thinking. but you can’t say you’re complaining. he was just so damn good with his tongue too. the days he decided to bury his head between your thighs really sent you over a wild ledge. had you thinking thoughts that would forbid you from the holy land forever. made you crave him when he wasn’t there, miss his tongue, but just seeing his face made you tired somewhere inside, you knew a bone shaking orgasm would ensue soon.

your reading time was your save haven. that dedicated time had saved you from many mental breakdowns over the years, and having ethan flicking and mumbling and moaning into your folds had your eyes scanning the same meaningless paragraph for at least ten minutes straight. your sighs didn’t stop him, he was far too focused on your slick heat in front of him.

he rushed to her bedside. he rushed to her bedside. he rushed to her bedside. he rushed to her bedside. he rushed to her bedside. he rushed to her bed-

oh for christ’s sake.

“e...c’mon baby i really need to focus on this. it’s getting to a good part,” you whine, wiggling your hips in an attempt to detach his lips from your core.

no such luck, he was hungry and when he needed you, he needed you. which happened to be all the time, but he just couldn’t stop.

“you can read to me if that helps,” he mumbled against you, laying his tongue flat and licking a long strip up the center of you - your hips jerking in his hands.

“fuck- i can’t do that e, you’re distracting me i don’t even know what i’m reading anymore,” you gasp, trying to not give into him, your body exhausted from the long day anyhow, “can you please just come up here and lay down with me? we can go to sleep and continue this in the morning.”

at last, ethan is pulling away with a smack of his lips and a pout, only to begrudgingly let go of your plush hips and crawl up your body to lay on your chest, nuzzling into your breasts the best he can. the book you were reading being propped open by nothing but your left thumb, hanging in the air before you doggy ear the corner of the page (something your teachers always yelled at you for growing up) and set it halfway hanging off on the nightstand with a sigh. he’s grumbling about you tasting so delicious and it’s ‘not his fault you look hot all the time’, something that finally gets you to crack a fond smile and rub a hand through his hair to soothe him. you know he’s coming from a place of want and kindness. but it’s still hilarious for him to be upset that you said no one time to him eating you out. he forgets that you even let him play with your pussy during a family dinner at your mothers house. now that, is a story you’d never tell a soul. your cheeks burn up just thinking about it.

“you really know how to woo a girl,” you giggle softly, rolling your eyes and smiling just a bit wider when he snuggles down, smoothing a hand across the expanse of your ribs, running his thumb over the skin just under your left breast.

before it could turn into a bittersweet moment to file away in the “cherish forever” part of your brain, his hand is sliding slowly back drown your torso and to your mound again, rubbing away once again.

“seriously sweetie i’m so tired i wanna sleep,” you coo to him, knowing he’s only calming himself down and distracting himself from whatever thoughts haunted him like they always did during the night.

“but i wanna...” he whimpers, trailing off and raising his head just enough to tuck right into your neck, kissing at the soft silky skin under his lips, smoothing his tongue over sore spots he starts to suck and bite right in the middle, then peppering down next to your collarbone. and it’s hard, it really is, to resist when he sounds so helpless and desperate for you. made you feel so wanted.

then you feel it, his finger slowly entering you down below, the wet sound of his entry making him smile into your neck. he moves slowly, in case you get mad and try to slap his hand away - which you’d never dream of doing. even though you are exhausted out of your mind, slightly irritated from being interrupted from your book...you couldn’t deny the power he held over you and how convincing he was when he touched you like he did.

you really don’t know what to say, not when he’s sneaking yet another finger inside of your clenching hole, humming that you’re a “good girl” and feel “so wet” and “so tight” around his fingers. he’s a charmer, you much say, even when performing such a dirty act. he really got you going more than any man you had ever been with. he knew just how to twist you and bring you right to your knees...or rather...he knew exactly how to get those pretty little legs to spread right open for him to feast as he rightfully should.

with a huff you’re grabbing onto his wrist and grabbing at his chin at the same time, making him look at you and really understand what you’re about to say. you want him to knew the urgency of the situation. you want to waste no time. no foolery. no dilly dallying. no nonsense. pleasure then sleep.

“you better make this good, because i promise you i am no stranger to cruel and petty punishment. you want to interrupt me that’s fine, but you better make it worth my while.”

and it’s the look of pure filth in his eyes that comes after, it shocks the sleep right out of you. has his fingers pumping faster, tongue peaking from his mouth to wet his lips. he curls at the knuckle, digging up into you with a force unlike any other, ramming his fingers into you with incredible speed.

with your full submission, ethan leans into kiss you, really kiss you. a slow, deep, passionate kiss that knocks the air right from your lungs. normally you would cringe at the taste of yourself on his lips, but with the pleasure lighting up every nerve in your body, you couldn’t seem to give two fucks about the sweet but salty taste on the cushiony pink that had turned into your safe place. in fact, it turned you on even more that he ravaged you like a wild animal, that you were tasting your own arousal on his lips...and he gave it to you like a gift. he dipped his tongue in to slide against your own while his fingers pumped into you faster, harder, deeper. the wet sounds of your cunt - so delicious - bounced off the walls of his room, getting you dangerously close to the surely heavenly ending you know was coming.

your hips rock and roll against his hand, matching his thrusts, fist grabbing tight to his white t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out that moan you’d been holding in since he started tonguing at your whole a half hour ago.

“that’s it baby, let me here you...” he praises you, smiling while he leans back to look down at his fingers plunging in and out of you at an impressive speed, “i knew you wanted this.”

with his praise, the volume of your whimpers and moans turn to louder whines and squeals - the hand wrapped around his fist now digging crescent shaped nail marks into the tanned skin. he hissed at the pain of your assault, but it only made his blackened pupils grow larger.

“i’m so close e- fuck i can feel it,” you wince at the small sound of your voice, knowing you must look so gone and blissed out with your eyes shut tight, lip trapped between your teeth. this only causes him to speed up further, pumping and kissing you deeper. giving you pleasure is what gave him pleasure, and he’s loving every minute of it.

you cum with a scream, the kind of scream that honestly shocked both you and ethan - the sheer blind pleasure coursing through you had your thighs shaking from underneath the covers- the hand on his wrist tightening like a vice - the walls of your push constricting and fluttering rapidly around both of his fingers still pressed deep into you. he pumps you through your orgasm, peppering kisses across your face, whispering terms of endearment over and over after every peck to your skin. i love you, i need you, i adore you, beautiful angel, there we go princess, so sweet for me always, doing so good. he pulls his fingers from you slowly, smiling when you whine at the sudden feeling of being so empty. you loved being filled by him. you indulged on the pleasant feeling and bonding that cockwarming provided on many nights. it’s something that soothed you right to sleep.

when you’ve finally calmed down enough to flutter your eyes back open, you see that he had tucked both fingers into his mouth, and was then sucking around them eagerly, pulling them from his mouth with a lazy smile. without another word you’re pulling him down by the back of his neck for another kiss, a kiss that is then slow paced and pacient, sliding your tongue into his mouth to taste once more. smiling into the kiss, you pull back with a satisfied sigh, holding his hazle eyes captive with yours.

“better?” you grin, pecking right against the rosy red of his blushing cheek, holding him there while you wait for his tired little nod.

“much better.”

#asks #e!concepts #ethan!concepts

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softowlhours · 4 years ago

Text

paperclip chains

akaashi keiji (officeAU!)

a collection of scenarios following you and akaashi as you try and finesse the art of navigating life as working adults.

genre: a bit sad at times, but hopefully fluffier in the future.

a/n: my first piece of writing and this is pure self indulgent because work is hard and nothing makes sense sometimes. hope you all enjoy and find some comfort in it.

word count: 3500~

pt. one 🦋 blank like a sheet of paper. 🦋

[friday. 3:00 p.m.]

someone had cracked open the window. the air inside the office had been much too oppressive, stale with the smell of the murky, insipid coffee you could get from the cafeteria. for free. staff privileges, they call it. late afternoon sun pours in through the large square windows. it ignites the office, dying it in the shades of an inferno. however, the warmth of it does not reach akaashi’s heart. the way the rays set everything aglow was in contrast to the chill crisp autumn air. akaashi could hear the leaves rustle, clinging to the branches waiting for that particular gust of wind, strong enough to blow them off. the leaves would then twirl and twirl until they’d softly land on the damp earth becoming one with it again. he wishes he were a leaf.

He tries to focus on nature’s gentle melody, but the hubbub of the office is overbearing. the incessant clicking of alphabets on the keyboards, the murmur of pages being turned, someone sneezes loudly and it is immediately followed by lazy ‘bless you’s’. his ears are attuned to the low electric groan of the printer, and he hopes someone would get up and unclog the jam of papers before the white noise drives him insane. he ends up doing it himself, almost losing a finger in the process as he tries to pull out a badly stuck paper from the printers’ rollers. today had been one of those days where nothing had gone right, a domino of disasters triggered the moment he’d opened his eyes. these days had been coming by way too often lately for his taste. he felt tired.

none of these turmoils showed on his exterior though, he wore a calm, unbothered mask. despite his depressing inner monologue, he diligently read through the manuscript highlighting bits he’d like to go over with the author at their next meeting.

it wasn’t like akaashi hated his job, infact, this was his dream job. he loved what he did but sometimes his love for his work was eclipsed by the politics the workplace was entrenched in. the naivety from when he had first joined almost a year ago had worn off quickly. it took him a mere week in the workforce to understand that a job demanded more than the list of skills and tasks specified in the job description. in any office, beneath the veneer of civility, there always remains an undercurrent of competition, jealousy, idle minds looking for entertainment at the expense of each other. there were people who did not love their job, the free loaders who somehow never did their share but managed to take home their bag of coins. they would slack and slack some more until the burden of their neglect would be shifted upon the shoulders of the new comers. too timid to resist. he pulls out his leather bound planner, a gift from his friend to celebrate him landing the role of an assistant editor all those months ago. it is almost filled from start to finish with his scribbles and the leather is soft with constant handling. his eyes scan past all the work he had wrapped up for the day, until one of his seniors had dumped an endless stack of files containing short stories that had been sent in for the monthly writing contests. they’re not short anymore when you have a hundred of them to read at once. apparently, the senior had a date he’d forgotten about and had to leave early. akaashi couldn’t report this to the boss, he knew how offices worked. its venomous hierarchies slithered like snakes ready to diss whoever defied them. rookies must act like rookies. akaashi quickly jots down in his planner a list of things he must get done over the weekend and the bulleted list slowly fills up two entire pages.

when he wasn’t picking up after someone’s mess akaashi did enjoy what he did. he enjoyed being on top of his work, found an euphoric satisfaction in duties well done. while his colleagues took it easy during the day and whined as they worked overtime in the evenings to meet deadlines, akaashi was most probably done for the day by then and already at home; fresh out of the shower and lighting his favourite candles that made his bedroom smell like cinnamon. he’d curl up under his soft comforter letting the tension of a busy day dissipate from his body. he kept his favorite books on the nightstand and would read them as he waited for sleep to come.

“akaashi-chan,” he hears the soothing voice of his supervisor, an old well natured man in his sixties who had worked here for almost thirty years. he walks upto akaashi’s desk, his eyes crinkling with a gentle smile as he takes in the mess that was his desk. “its difficult being a rookie, huh?” hatori-san says. “i would’ve just let you gone home, but the design and printing departments are an anxious bunch. they’re breathing down our necks for the final draft of the magazine two weeks before the release date.”

“please don’t apologise, hatori-san. It’s always like this towards the end of the month.” you aren’t the one who should be apologising.

“hmm...” the elderly muses, “maybe you should dilly dally like your colleagues, afterall, who is to blame you? the youth are meant to be reckless. ”

“but hatori-san if i did that not even a quarter of our magazine will be ready by the end of this month!” akaashi’s voice is filled with amusement, and mild terror.

hatori-san chuckles. “yes, yes i’m aware. i’ll rely on you then akaashi-chan. i do have a bit of good news for you though.” a bonus-

“we’re getting another assistant editor on monday, hopefully your workload can be halved from then on and a be little more manageable. i’m worried you’re starting to look older than me akaashi-chan.” he jokes. “i’ll leave her in your care.”

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

[friday. 8:20 p.m.]

he stays in the office until late that night, finishing as much of his work he can before the words on the screen begin to blur and he can feel his brain churn in his head. he packs the documents he needed to read over the weekend, putting them neatly in his black briefcase. the temperatures have dropped quite low and with his tan coat on and a scarf wrapped around his neck, he steps out into the world. outside, tokyo is buzzing with life, the lights twinkle and a bubbly atmosphere engulfs even this usually grim and dull part of the city; where most companies found their home. salary men and women chatter excitedly as they pour into the office district from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass. groups of people stand on the sidewalk chatting amicably, smoke rises from cigarettes, plans to go hangout at karaokes, bars and restaurants float in the air.

it wasn’t that akaashi did not have friends, or ever had trouble making any. he was easy going, attentive and though not the loudest in the room, he was enigmatic. people were drawn to him. especially the weird and loud ones. not that he minded. not that he ever judged. which is what made people open up their hearts to him so easily. they knew he’d take them for who they were. but, like earlier today he couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that clawed at him. he had his dream job but the hours he spent on his desk day after day, the endless exchange of apathetic emails, the unlimited cups of coffee, had all amalgamated into a kind of hollowness. he felt empty instead of fulfilled. he idly wonders if bokuto-san ever felt this way, or knowing him, did he charge straight ahead without any inhibitions? if you asked bokuto whether he could see himself playing volleyball for the next twenty or fifty years, bokuto would say ‘yes, ofcourse!!!’ in a heartbeat. and akaashi knew bokuto would mean it.

he wonders how hatori-san had spent his entire life in that office. could i do the same?

akaashi considers hanging out with some of his friends from university, maybe take hatori-san’s advice and just let go and forget everything for a while. he could be your typical 20 something, going to the bars with his 20 something friends where they’d shit talk their rude colleagues. He could console that one friend who wouldn’t stop crying over his ex-girlfriend who left him 3 years ago, every time he’s drunk. he could go home with that girl at the opposite end of the bar who wouldn’t stop looking his way, and who in his drunken haze, he thinks to be pretty. but eventually akaashi decides he is too tired to do any of that.

much later, when he settles into bed, he mindlessly picks up a book from his nightstand. he starts reading from where he had left off the night before but his eyes don’t really register a single word. for all he knew, he could’ve been staring at a blank sheet of paper. after a few more minutes of seeing nothing, he puts the book away and buries himself deep underneath the covers.

he feels the tears fall.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

[monday, 9:45 a.m.]

its odd. akaashi feels well rested. very very well rested.

his eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is the blue sky peeking from the gap between his curtains. he’s afraid to look at the time.

9:45 A.M. well, shit.

akaashi feels winded by the time he makes it to the floor where his office was.from the door he sees hatori-san standing next to akaashi’s chair, his back towards him. akaashi’s heart is in his throat, an apology that sounds fake dances on his tongue. he then hears hatori-san chuckle. a soft female voice says something he cannot catch. ah, the new assistant editor.

“good morning” he calls hoarsely, as he approaches them.

“Ah, hello akaashi-san,” his supervisor beams, “meet y/n. hopefully, your new partner in crime.”

“i was told i’m supposed to help slow down your aging process.” her voice is soft, and despite the shyness there is a mischievous lilt to her tone. “i’ll do my best. please do guide me.”

hatori-san excuses himself. she’s practically buzzing with excitement, akaashi notices. before he can say anything, she pulls out a brand-new notepad from her bag, pen clicking open. she looks ready to take on the world.

he has to bite back a smile. she’s cute, cheeks flush and lips in a pout as she jots down something on it. he genuinely wonders what it is she writes, considering he hasn’t even spoken yet. her hair is neatly tied away from her face but a few stray tendrils fall and delicately frame her face.

he wonders if this is how he had looked on his first day at work. face pink and eyes bright. probably not as cute though, oh no, definitely not cute. he internally cringes at the memory of his awkwardness.

but you miss it. that excitement.

“it’s fine.” he says, “please just sit down and relax, i’ll guide you as we go through our daily routine.” he gives her a small smile.

they spend the morning, going through the basics of the trade, she's a fast learner, he notes. and later during the lunch hour he divulges to her the little ‘how to survive in this office 101s’. he tells her how how she mustn’t drink the free coffee they hand out at the cafeteria (even though he’s come to accept it himself, for he welcomes caffeine in any state and form). he suspects they reuse the coffee grounds more times than considered acceptable. how if you ever jammed the printer, try and leave before anyone realises it was you if you don’t want to be the recipient of death glares from colleagues all day long. He tells her which restrooms are the best and which elevators reach their destinations the fastest. the grimmer and more ruthless bits of working here can wait, he thinks.

passion was something he lost some time ago and hasn’t been able to find ever since.

“make sure to take it easy.” he mumbles to her as they are putting away their trays, “if work gets too much, you can always place the manuscripts and drafts on my desk when i’m not looking.”

she looks at him incredulously. laughter bubbles from her lips as she tells him with mock indignance that she’s better than that. she asks the cafeteria lady for two cups of the infamous coffee, offering him one.

“lets toast!” y/n proposes .

“to what?”

“to all the times we’ll be the the last two brain cells holding up this company. together.” she jokes, touching her paper cup to his.

he likes the sound of ‘together’.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #hq!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #reader insert #hq akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi keiji fluff

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hertzwritings · 5 years ago

Text

Woodland

A/N: These quarantine-times have made me unbelievably horny for literally anything – but mostly Negan and Jeffrey Dean Morgan. That man can get it.

Anyway, here’s a one-shot I’ve had floating around my brain for a while – I hope you’ll like it! Remember, feedback feeds the writer!

MASTERLIST

Jeffrey Dean Morgan masterlist

Feedback/taglists/requests

Pairings: Negan x reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your willies before you do the dillies), oral (male receiving), use of daddy, mentions of weapons, language, so much smut, honestly, zombies, slight dom/sub, a smidgen of knifeplay if you look really hard

You quickly took the clip out of your gun, glanced at it and put it back with a satisfying click. You might not survive the night, based on the amount of bullets you had left, but at least you got ASMR’ed by the .45, you currently called your best friend.

The woods around you were silent. Spring was setting in, the days getting lighter and the nights shorter, while the woods started to finally gain some color other than muddy brown – it made you feel lighter, airier somehow. Maybe it was the smell of dew on grass, maybe it was the scent of wildflowers.

You had been sitting in a safe camp for a few hours. Lookout-duty wasn’t the most fun, but someone needed to do it, to keep the area clear and the people safe. It was a few hours less sleep, your life on the line… But whatever, at least you didn’t have to cook.

A branch cracked somewhere behind you. You whipped around, leaves crunching under your boot – you barely moved a muscle, keeping your gun outstretched in case of a small horde coming through. It would surprise you, someone would’ve called you on the walkie, if a horde was moving in your direction, but something could’ve gone wrong. Maybe it was just one. If so, you wouldn’t waste a bullet.

The thing you hated the most about being alone in the woods, was the fact that sounds seemed to travel around you. You never really knew if a broken branch came from behind you, the side, whatever, because sound just traveled differently in the forest.

Which was the reason for you getting caught with a knife on your throat without getting a chance to defend yourself.

“You should really learn to look around you, doll.” Fucking Negan. You sighed and rolled your eyes, shimmying out of his grip, trying to ignore the slight heat going to your center from the feeling of the cold steel against your throat. “You should learn not to sneak up on people, Negan.” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled that fucking smile. He knew what he was doing, that shithead. It wasn’t the first time. You and Negan had a special relationship, that very much started off as pure hatred. What was the saying? Hate and lust is a knife-edge-balance?

“where’s the fun in that?” his voice was like melted chocolate in a cookie. Every part of you wanted to jump his goddamn bones, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Now, what are you doing out here… All alone?” he was almost predatory in his tone. You twitched and heat gathered in your core, as he took a step towards you, leaves crunching under his boot. Fucking hell, he was hot.

“What do you think, I’m doing? I’m on guard-duty until sun-down.” He chuckled, warm caramel running through your veins. “What are you doing here?” You asked. You couldn’t help but notice the way he shifted at your tone – it might have been a little sassier than normal but fuck it. He wasn’t on goddamn guard-duty, he was on tomato-duty.

“What do you think, sweetheart? I’m here to fuck you right the hell up. Your alone, we’re far away from people, and I sure as fucking hell am going to use this goddamn perfect situation to my benefit.” He stepped closer to you yet again, your heart hammering a thousand miles a minute. “Unless you’re not ready to take this per-fucking-fect opportunity in your hands…” his hand was on your arm, goosebumps rising where his calloused fingers glided along your exposed skin.

“Fuck you.” You said, acutely aware of the wetness collecting between your legs.

He cocked his eyebrow again and smirked, grapping you by the hair in a move, that went faster than you could react to. An involuntary moan escaped your lips, which caused him to move even closer to you. You could feel his cock straining against his black jeans.

“Knees, Y/N.” his voice was barely above a whisper, but it had all the authority – you could do nothing but obey, what he asked, and you slid to your knees, silently thanking yourself for bringing a blanket to cover the cold, hard ground.

You were in perfect height for him, when you were on your knees. He praised you for it often, being in perfect cock-sucking height, and he used it frequently. Not that you minded at all. Your skin was on fire, molten lava running through your veins, and you tried to create a smidgen of friction between your legs to alleviate the burning sensation of lust and wetness, that had begun to pool.

He didn’t say anything, but simply opened his pants and you took over, pulling them down – his cock sprung out, already hard as anything, dripping slightly with precum. His hand was still in your hair, pulling softly – you moaned again, and his cock twitched in response. “Y/N… Suck my dick. Now.” He gave gruff orders, but you obeyed without question.

You wrapped your lips around the head of him, relishing in the warmth and the familiar taste of Negan, going deeper and deeper, until his head hit the back of your throat, causing a muffled gag to sound in the otherwise silent forest. He moaned and cocked his hips, forcing himself deeper. Your eyes watered, but you loved it – your hands wrapped around his hips, steadying yourself, as he started to fuck your mouth. You could feel every vein, every twitch of his cock in your mouth, spit dripping from your chin… You loved every second of it. He was moaning and swearing, grapping your hair even harder, pulling you a little higher. Your pussy was throbbing with need and you whined against him, silently begging for some sort of release. He stopped his attack on your mouth and glanced at you, half panting, half moaning, and smirked down at you. “You want daddys dick, huh?” you nodded, whimpering again. You didn’t know who you were in his hands, but you were complete putty.

He pushed you – gentler than you had expected – down, so you laid down on your back on the ragged blanket, you had brought, and made very quick work of your jeans. Normally, he’d keep his pace, teasing your breasts as well, but not today. You were both to impatient for that shit.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he moaned as he saw how wet you were. He didn’t waste a second, before plunging two fingers in you, pumping in and out – you moaned loudly, grapping his dick and fondled his balls – eh groaned in pleasure and his fingers curled. You arched your back, the molten lava in your veins gathering in your lower belly, heating the coil of pleasure, building there. He knew you were close. “You wanna fucking cum for me, Y/N?” he whispered, his fingers assaulting every single sense you had. He added a third fucking finger, making your legs twitch and your hand, that was currently trying to give him a handjob, stilled in its movement. He curled his fingers up, hitting that fucking spot. “Fuck, Negan!” You were so close, every nerve in your body burning. “Ask.” His voice was harsh but soft at the same time – almost like he was trying to lure a wounded animal to him. “Fuck, Negan, fuck, can I cum?” he chuckled at your desperate tone. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

And just like that, your body released everything. You back arched, your thighs twitched, and you could feel how much you gushed over his hand. He moaned and his cock in your hand twitched at the sight of you cumming. He didn’t waste a second.

You were still coming down, when he scooted himself down, laid on top of you and without hesitating, he was in you. He bottomed out, stretching you completely, while you mewled and tried desperately tried to claw at anything within reach. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” you could feel his control slipping slightly – he was shaking, desperate to move, just as much as you wanted him to. “Fuck, yes.” You breathed your response before quickly stretching your neck – your lips met his in a flurry of emotion and fireworks blasting off all over your body. He groaned against your lips, biting your bottom lip, before drawing out of you, almost fully, before hammering back in. he kissed you like he was a drowning man gasping for air, as his hips rolled and his cock filled you to the brim, gliding against every inch of you. It felt like heaven. You moaned against his lips, his tongue expertly sliding against yours, wrestling for dominance, while he fucked you to oblivion.

You were so close. White hot pleasure ran through your body, enveloping you completely in his heat, in the moment, in feeling his cock hitting your g-spot over and over. Your legs wrapped around his hips on their own, while you kissed him like your life depended on it.

He angled his hips differently and you combusted.

Your lips left his, as you screamed his name – he fucked you harder, forcing your orgasm to keep going, flames licking every inch of you, as your pussy clenched around him.

He haltered, before going harder than ever. Your orgasm slid into another, as he chased his own, growling loudly as the sound of skin against skin and your wetness filled the air around you.

You searched for his lips, kissing every inch of exposed skin you could reach, and as you reached his throat, you bit it harshly.

He was gone. He came with a roar, forcing himself deeply inside you, painting your walls white as your pussy milked him for everything he had.

As you both came down, he rested his forehead on yours, a soft and surprisingly not Negan move. He was shivering (or maybe you were) and kissed you gently, before softly pulling out of you. He grinned at the sight of his cum slowly ebbing out of you, and you squirmed under his gaze.

You quickly got your pants back on, got up and kissed him. He kissed back, surprised by the gesture – you left his lips with a smile.

“What’s your damage, sweetheart?” he murmured, a hand softly in your hair. The familiar growl and snarl from the walkers sounded somewhere behind him. You grabbed your gun and smiled at him.

“My only damage is finding you so goddamn attractive.” He grinned and grabbed his gun, while you cocked your own, standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“I suppose we’ve got some fucking talking to do, when we’re done here, huh?” you grinned at him, just as a walker came out from the thick woods.

#negan #negan smut #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan x reader smut #negan x y/n smut #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jeffrey dean morgan x you #smut #the walking dead fanfic #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #the walking dead smut

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lilyharvord · 5 years ago

Note

Can Mare sing, in your opinion?

For my opinion on the above comment finish this fic. (((: Also, nothing can stop me from imagining that Lavenders Blue is a lullaby that survived everything. I am unashamed to have used it. Also no editing. ((:

LAVENDERS BLUE

“He won’t sleep.” Cal grimaces as he paced the space at the foot of our bed. His anxiety is driving me up a wall. Shade will sleep when he wants to, I almost hiss. But I bite my tongue. Cal’s just as tired as me, possibly more. He just got back from the States this morning and he flew an overnight flight here. And he stayed up all day helping me prepare our gifts for the holiday party we’re attending tomorrow. He had also been the one to get up and hold Shade when he started screaming half an hour ago. He’s trying, he’s trying really, really hard to be present in this moment. He feels bad that you’ve been doing this alone for the past two weeks, I tell myself as I sigh through my nose. Propping myself up on my elbows, and then rolling into a sitting position, I hold my arms out and say, “Give him to me.”

For a moment, he looks offended at my request, but then relinquishes his face falling. He slides Shade into my arms, and I accept the weight of my son carefully. He squirms in my arms immediately and starts whining again. At least he’d stopped doing that when Cal picked him up.

Stay relaxed, that had been my mother’s advice from the moment I’d held my son for the first time. He’d been a small baby, but he had lungs like an ox and when he was upset, he did not hesitate to let everyone know. Sounds like someone we all know, Gisa had teased when I mentioned it the first time.

Moving him gently from side to side, I try to establish the same rhythm that he liked from a few nights ago. He quiets quickly, and opens his eyes, the watery honey irises sparkling in the light of the night lamp. Letting out a hiccup, he watches my face carefully.

“You’re being a pain tonight, you know that?” I ask him with a yawn. I almost forget that Cal is there for a moment, and I feel bad. He’s been gone on and off for the past few months, and I know he’s miserable about it. He had begged the People Court for time off during my pregnancy, and they had given him the full seven months, as long as he was prepared to accept their requests for his time after Shade was born. He’d agreed, not realizing that they would punish him for choosing this over helping them build the future in the States. I didn’t want to say it, but I was pretty sure Anabel was still pulling some strings. She still hated my guts, and wanted nothing to do with me. However, she was willing to redraw the battle lines, especially with her getting time with great grandson being at stake.

“But your dad did a damn good job getting you to shut up a few minutes ago.” I sneak a mischievous smile in Cal’s direction, and he gives me a weak one in response. It’s not much, and it doesn’t soothe his ego in the slightest. My smile falls quickly and I glance down at Shade who has started to suck on his knuckles to the rhythm of my rocking. I glance back at Cal, who is watching the two of us with a strangely detached expression. He feels like he’s missing everything, my mind hisses. He already told you today that he feels like Shade’s grown so much in the past two weeks. He’s terrified he’s going to have to leave tomorrow and not be able to come back for another two weeks. He’s worrying that when he does come back his son wont be a baby anymore, and you’ll be bitter with him for missing everything.

I pause my rocking, and scooting over delicately so that I don’t move Shade from the perfect little crook I have in my arm, I say to Cal, “Come sit with me.”

He tenses for a moment, and I can see the war behind his eyes. But the part of him that I love wins. The part that I knew would win from the moment I told him about the bundle of cells multiplying and dividing exponentially inside of me. He pushes the blankets back and slides underneath them with me. The bed immediately feels warmer, and I sigh in relief before leaning over to lay my head on his shoulder. Shade squirms a little bit at the shift and protests with a weak cry.

“Dont be a brat,” I say back to him. Cal actually cracks a smile at that, and I close my eyes for a moment with a sigh before saying, “I missed you. I miss you every time you leave.”

“I missed you too.” He whispers, but the worlds sound so dejected and lost. He has always wanted kids, as many as I was willing to give. Shade had been a surprise. Even with all the pills, and all the careful planning, nature had decided it would be much more entertaining to throw a wrench into the mix. We had planned to have kids a few more years from now. When Cal wasn’t needed as much in the States, when my own duties lessened just slightly. It’s a game of balance, my mom had warned me.

I open my eyes again, and crane my neck to glance up at him. He watching Shade though, probably measuring every new inch he’s grown, and wondering how many more inches he’ll grow when he leaves again.

“Alright, come here,” I say to him, and roll slightly to start sliding Shade back into his arms. He goes to protest, saying, “He was perfectly happy with you, why--”

Shade settles in though, soothed by Cal’s warmth, and begins cooing softly to himself. I smirk up at Cal and say, “He’s just as happy with you.”

He tries to hide it, but I can see the pride rolling off of him in waves. With subtle movements, I maneuver his arms to the position I had Shade in. Then, I poke him until he gets the right rhythm that I established. “Look at that, you’re a natural.” I say with a yawn. He smiles to himself sheepishly, and continues the gentle rocking. I watch Shade them, taking the time to memorize that face. he was still pretty small, but he was getting bigger. Sara already predicted that when he was done growing he would be as tall as Cal. Good, I had practically cried. I didn’t want any of my children sharing the unfortunate burden of my height. Reaching out a hand to him, I smile and say, “He’s starting to look more and more like you.”

“I was going to say he’s starting to look more like you.” Cal argues, and we shoot mocking glares at each other before chuckling. I sigh again, and watch our son grab at my finger and squeeze tightly while looking up at Cal. I pull my finger away in response, wanting Cal to get his full attention. Shade fusses immediately, and I groan to myself before offering my finger again and humming softly.

He hiccups before focusing all his attention on me. I smile at him, and hum a little louder, trying to remember the lullaby my mother had sang to him one night.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, Lavender’s green. When I am king dilly dilly you shall be queen.”

“Who told you so dilly dilly who told you so? My own heart dilly dilly, that told me so.”

“Call up your men dilly dilly set them to work. Some to the plow dilly dilly, some to the fork.”

“Some to make hay dilly dilly, some to cut corn. While you and I dilly dilly keep ourselves warm.”

“Lavenders green dilly dilly, lavenders blue. If you love me dilly dilly, I will love you.”

Shade yawns about halfway through before closing his eyes and drifting off. Smiling I hum the next few refrains to him, watching for when his little eyelids flutter with sleep. He’s out with seconds, and I sigh in relief before letting my head rest completely against Cal’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” He whispers, and I laugh softly to myself before saying, “I can barely hold a tune. I’m just lucky that lullaby is easy.”

He’s quiet again for a long time before laying his head on mine and whispering, “It was very nice.”

I chuckle to myself before yawning and saying, “Go put him back in the cradle and then come back to bed. I wasn’t kidding about missing you.”

#(*ask lily*)#(*Shut up lily*)#(*lily fills in the gaps after broken throne*)#also nothing can stop my from writing about domestic as fuck MArecal #give me my children as parents or give me death #also lil bit of angst hanging out in here #just a hint tho #like a california wine that hasn't fully developed #may revisit later #evil laugh #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #marecal #post broken throne #shade calore #he's a brat and he's not even one yet

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imaginesnkdorks · 5 years ago

Text

The Ultimatum

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.9 K

Summary: You seem to have a deathwish... something Levi does not appreciate at all.

I feel like I could drop dead any minute now. Both my arms and legs are very heavy. Ugh. I think I’ll just stay here….

“Oi, Y/N.” I felt the tip of a boot nudge me on my face. How rude.

“Just… leave me here to die…” I said, sneaking a peak at Levi. From my position on the floor, I could barely even see his knees. Great. I felt him grab my hand – no, my arm and help me sit upright.

“You idiot. I can’t believe after last week you’ll go right back into doing this again.” Uh-oh, it’s the start of a Levi lecture. I finally got on my feet, and if I had the energy I would be whining and complaining. And the moment I finally looked into Levi’s face; I can read the worry clearly. Great. Now I am tired and full of guilt.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Yes, all I could look at was the floor in shame. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. I started training harder to become less of a burden to Levi – to be able to do more during expeditions. But here we are, two weeks in and Levi had to drag me from the training hall.

The walk back to our shared room wasn’t pleasant. Levi is being… talkative, which is a lot more unnerving than when he’s silent. He won’t stop talking about how everyone is constipated or how we should have training sessions for cleaning.

Unceremoniously throwing my boots to a corner of our room, I started undoing my annoying straps. I really should stop training in full uniform.

“Tsk.” Levi clucked his tongue, putting away my boots properly. And now I have him cleaning after me! Get it together, Y/N! I made sure to set my straps properly aside and put my dirties in our hamper – separating the colored from the whites. The least I could do for Levi is to take care of myself.

The moment I pulled my sleeping gown on I dropped on the bed. Fighting against everything my body wants me to do, I gestured for Levi to join me in bed. I looked at him just in time to see him taking of his day clothes. Yeah, the sight of his abs woke me up a bit.

In a huff, he finished changing and sat down on our bed. “What has gotten into you, Y/N? You suddenly upped your training routine – so much so that you look like you’re already half dead.”

I turned on my back, finally able to look him straight in the eyes. The eyebags under his eyes look a little more prominent. “Nothing. I just think it’s something a soldier like us should do, you know?”

“When correctly paced and scheduled, yes. But you just… you do it until you’re like this.” He gestured at me, making sure my eyes go where his does – the bruises on my arms and legs that are already darkening like berries. “You stop only when you pass out!”

I really have nothing to say to that… but the expedition is in two days! I think I should put in more hours, actually. I can’t have a repeat of the last expedition. I can’t just wait for Levi to save my ass. We’re both soldiers for goodness’ sake!

He sighed for probably the thousandth time today, before lying down beside me. “Just, promise you won’t do anything stupid.” He grabbed my hand, eyes full of affection and worry. My chest felt so tight from it… and maybe from the guilt as I can’t promise him what he wants me to.

---

“Ugh!” What is up with these titans?! I can’t help but think that they seem a lot stronger than the ones before. I’m sure it’s all just in my head, still, all that training should be helping! But I’m still the same weak, pathetic idiot. Levi’s voice can’t help but ring in my mind, saying I told you so. This is why I should’ve had a better training routine, all this time I just tired myself out. How can I be so reckless?

“Titans have already taken over the left platoon. Pass this message to the right.”

“Y/N, you heard the man, pass it on!” My squad leader Mike told me and I obeyed right away. “Nanaba, you fire the flare!”

The squad to our right is Levi’s Special Operations Squad, accompanied by the squad assigned to wagon duty. Best way to protect the supplies is to have it with the best soldier. I’m still a little bitter I wasn’t hand-picked by Levi… but that’s not important.

“Message, Captain!” I yelled the moment I got within earshot. “Titans have taken over the left platoon!” Levi nodded, telling Gunther to pass the message and Olou to fire the flare.

“You look horrible.” Levi said flatly. It hurts, but he’s right. I started to steer my horse back where we came from, but Levi stopped me. “You can stay here. Mike won’t mind.” I can’t do that… he’ll be looking after me again. I have to be able to hold my own! It’s the whole point of the past month’s training. I have to be able to kill titans on my own.

“I can’t…” Levi already has his signature glare on, and I wasn’t even finished.

“Y/N…” But it’s my turn to cut him off.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Levi. You don’t need to look after me. I can take care of myself.”

“You look like you’re ready to croak.” We stayed silent, almost forgetting the people around us… and the Titans. “I’m serious, Y/N. It’s like you have a death wish! Working yourself to death back at the HQ makes me nervous about what you’d do today.”

That hit a nerve. I steered my horse away and was making good distance, not before I heard Levi yell something to me though. “Don’t do anything reckless!”

My squad traveled quite far while I was away. I haven’t caught up with them in minutes. But that’s okay. It’s okay. I can do this. I mean, it’s bad to travel alone here in the titan’s territory but what else can I do?

However, the telltale shake of the Earth happened. Titans! “No way! Hiya!” There’s no time to dilly dally! I need to catch up to my squad! The blasted titans were making good time.

“Ah! Help! You there!” Huh? Someone on a horse was riding ahead of the Titans? I’ve been on so many expeditions to know that he’s not gonna make it to me. A titan will be able to grab him way before he reached even thirty feet near me. As for me, I think I’d fare better if I go back to Levi’s squad.

“Ahhhhhh!” Like I said, that soldier was grabbed by the thirteen-meter class titan behind him. “Help me!” Tsk! The closest titans to us is the one holding him and two small ones – probably around five and seven meters. Oh, what the hell. “Hiya!” I steered my horse towards the titan – deciding to help out my fellow soldier.

“Okay, just like we practiced.” I tried to stand on my horse, getting my 3DM gear ready. Being in an open field really isn’t ideal. Okay, I can’t stand up straight on my horse at the speed that we’re going. Still, I fired my gear and went for the titan. I didn’t even get passed its waist!

“Hurry – ack!”

“I won’t be able to go straight for its nape, so I went for the ankle instead. “Ha!” I was able to sever one, making it stumble. “Come on, get up!” I think the guy’s name is Ivan or something, doesn’t matter. He said something, but my focus is on the titan who’s now very angry at me. It was on its knees. Good. Without much of a running start, I still tried to go for the nape – which is a really bad idea. I felt its hand hold on to me in a single breath. Damn, it’s fast! What to do? “Ahhhh.” Oh yeah, I’m not alone. “A little help here?” I asked before turning to look at Victor something. I don’t really know his name.

He didn’t answer. He was too busy running up to my horse! That bastard! I wiggled, trying to free myself from the titan’s hand. Yeah, it didn’t work. Not a hundred percent, but I was able to free my left arm. Grabbing a flare, I fired it right on the titan’s face!

Being dropped didn’t feel good. Ugh. I need to make a move while it’s distracted, which would be difficult since my 3DM gear started malfunctioning. Clearly being squeezed by a titan is not good for both of us.

Think! I can still use my blades; I just can’t fire my wires. I have to move fast! The Titan is now on its knees and is still rubbing its eyes. I moved and climbed up its leg, making my way to its shoulders. I can’t believe how easy this part is! The neck slicing part was a bit difficult, though. But I did it.

Then another heavy thump rang around. The other two titans are really close and are already steaming. “What?”

“I knew you’d do something stupid.”

“Levi!” Relief and anger bubbled in my chest. Relief that I am still alive mostly because of him. Angry because I am still alive because of him. “I had it handled!”

“You have no horse and you’re alone. And it looks like your gear isn’t working too.” Levi is definitely mad now. His eyes are burning and I almost wavered. Almost.

“But I was able to kill that titan. And I wasn’t alone. I saved Alec... or Victor. I don’t know his name. But I saved someone, I’m not the only one that needs saving!”

“And I still have to save you! I thought…” A deep sigh escaped Levi and for a moment his eyes softened. He looked more broken than angry. Then it was gone and he was cold. “I thought I told you not to do something stupid, as reckless as this?”

“Why don’t you trust me? I can take care of myself. Levi, I’m a Survey Corps soldier too!” I couldn’t stop the tears, and I know just how much it doesn’t help my argument.

“I do trust you! I just… I don’t want to lose you Y/N.” That gave me pause. “Has it never occurred to you that I’m doing this more for my sake? I need you to stay safe… for me. But if you insist on dragging yourself to every dangerous situation, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What? What are you talking about Levi? You can’t mean that.” I reached out for his hand, he let me touch him but he’s not responding. He’s just… he looks like he’s given up. More thundering thumps of titans can be felt on the ground, and the unmistakable screams of titans are sounding closer and closer.

“Eld!” I didn’t notice the rest of Levi’s squad was a few feet from us.

“Captain?” Eld saluted, coming to us at once.

“Give Y/N a horse.” Eld moved right away. “We’ll talk later, that is if you stop trying to die.”

As we make our way to my squad, my mind kept wondering to my conversation with Levi. Guilt sat heavily on my chest. Maybe, I should heed to his ultimatum after all.

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #reader insert #selfship #levi special operations squad #survey corps #mod max

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leelee10898 · 6 years ago

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Fast cars & Freedom: Little wonders (6/?)

Summary: Ellie and Luca spend some quality time with both Logan and Colt. Will they behave?

Pairing: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Rating: Mature.

AN: Ok, a little fluff here and there, some steamy stuff too... I got a little carried away here at 2,900 words!! Catch up HERE. As always if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Song inspiration:

Ellie walked into the house, flopping herself on the couch. “So, how'd it go?” Riya asked.

“Well, he's coming to the beach with us.” Riya made a face “Yikes! How do you think that's going to go?”

“I don't know, good I hope. I shouldn't have invited him along, but I just wanted them both to meet her. I mean really meet her, in Colt's case. Not just a run in at the farmers market.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Ellie sat up, usually when Riya said that, she didn't like what she was going to be asked “Ok. Sure.” she hesitantly answered.

“Why are you going to have them meet her before the paternity test? Isn't that setting one up to be hurt when the results come in?”

Ellie sat there staring at her best friend, she was right. Of course she was right, and that was the logical thing to do. “Well, Logan asked to meet her. And Colt, well he has already met her and wants to get to know her. I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” she let out a frustrated sigh.

“And what about them? How are you going to handle being around them both? I know you still care for them.” Riya gave her a knowing look.

“Ri this isn't about me, it's about Luca knowing her father. My feelings dont matter right now.” that was a lie, or a half lie at least. As soon as she saw the both of them, her feelings came flooding back.

They spent the night hanging out, talking and playing some board games with Luca. Ellie got Luca to sleep and then laid down herself. They were all meeting at the beach and her nerves were a wreck. She tossed and turned before finally falling asleep. But her dreams were running wild.

********

Her fingers trailed long the jukebox key, scrolling for the perfect song. She pressed her selection as Logan quirked his brow grabbing her hand pulling her close. “Very fitting song, seeing as you're spending your evening with a dangerous criminal.”

“The only thing Dangerous about you are those totally kissable lips.” She smirked as she leaned in.

They swayed together, it was only the two of them in that moment. “Have you thought about going back to school?” she cooed into his ear.

“Eh I don't know, having to sit in a school all day, abiding by someone's rules. That's the reason I dropped out in the first place.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder “Logan, there are other ways to get your diploma. Night school for one. You could even do it online. Just, think about it ok?”

He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “For you, I'd move the stars in the sky.”

**********

“Mommy. Mommy.” her eyes flew open, pulling her from the dream. “Luca? What's the matter sweetie?” Luca stood before her, tears in her her eyes. “I had a bad dream.” she sniffled. Ellie picked her up and laid her in bed next to her. Luca snuggled up next to her as she rubbed her hair, Ellie began to hum a sweet melody, it was one her mother used to sing her.

Lavender's green, dilly, dilly

Lavender's blue

If you love me, dilly, dilly

I will love you

It didn't take long before they were both sound asleep.

Ellie woke the next morning and crept down the stairs. “Morning” her dad said coffee in hand, he slid another towards her. “Morning. What time did you get in last night?” Ellie smirked, knowing it had to be very late. “Ah 1am? We were talking and the time just got away from us.” Her father couldn't wipe the smile off his face, she was so happy for him. After her mother died, he refused to date. He put all of his energy into raising her and working, but in recent years he started to dip his feet in the dating pool.

“So, you all ready for your beach trip with Logan today?” he asked as he took a seat next to her at the kitchen table. “Well, I sort of invited Colt along.” she shrugged, a new development her father hadn't been made privy to. “COLT!?” Her father choked on his coffee. “Yeah, We sort of ran into him at the farmers market yesterday. He ah. Met Luca,” she sipped her coffee, avoiding eye contact. “Oh there's jerky for you.” she tried changing the subject. Her father had been hell bent on her telling them since Luca was born, he hated that Ellie was solely responsible for Lucas care and there were 2 able bodied men out there somewhere. “Well, its about damn time I say.” She rolled her eyes, and went upstairs to get Luca ready.

They arrived at the beach a short time later, they un packed the car and found a spot on the beach waiting for Logan and colt to arrive. Ellie hadn't told Luca that both Colt and Logan would be joining them, so it was going to be a surprise. Logan was the first to arrive. With butterflies in his stomach he trudged across the sand in a pair of swim trunks and a t-shirt. “Hey troublemaker.” He grinned as he approached. “Hey Logan.” she gave him a hug “Ready to meet her?” he nodded as they turned towards Luca “Sweetie I want you to meet somebody. This is Logan, one of mommy's old friends. Logan, this is Luca.” Luca quirked her little brow, “Hi Logan. Are all of mommy's old friends boys?”

“Ahhhh.” He looked at Ellie confused, just then they heard the sound of a loud motorcycle pull up. “We ah, ran into Colt at the farmers market yesterday. He knows.” longan shook his head “Got ya. This should be fun.” she pushed him. “Play nice, I've already warned him.” He gave her a lopsided smile “Yes mom.”

Colt approached the group. “Hi El.” he hugged her. His eyes locked on Logan “Logan.” he put his hand out, Logan grasped it firmly. “Hi Colt.” “Is that your motorcycle?” Luca approached awe struck. “Yes it is. Do you like motorcycles?” Luca shook her head “Yup. They go fast, I like fast stuff, it's fun.” Both men shared a grin, and then looking at Ellie who shook her head “Yeah, she does. Cars too. Do you see where it gets confusing for me?”

“Can we play now?” Luca whined, bored of the conversation. “Sure, what do you want to play?” Logan asked. “How about sandcastles? Will you guys help me? I need a lot of water and my little arms can't carry it alll the way up here.” Colt snickered, she definitely had Ellie's dramatic flare. “Of course we can.” Colt answered as they started walking towards an open spot next to them. “um Colt, Logan. You're going to get all sandy, you need to be beach ready.” She snapped.

Ellie watched the two men be ordered around, they were practically tripping over themselves to help her. And then Logan stripped his shirt off, Ellies gaze traveled his chest. He was still so toned and firm, she wasn't sure it was possible for him to look any better than he used to, but damn if he wasn't. Her eyes snapped to the side of him to where colt was removing his shirt and jeans. Ellie couldn't help but gawk as her eyes feasted over yet another perfectly sculpted body.

Colts shoulders were a bit broader than they used to be but he still looked like a tan god standing in front of her. She swore she was drooling, but for the life of her she couldn't stop staring. How was it fair that time had only made them hotter? She was thicker than she used to be. After she had Luca, she filled out in many areas, making her a little self conscious.

So here she stood, unable to move or blink, she didn't hear the kid down the beach hollering heads up, just as a volleyball hit her in the side of the head. “Are you ok Ellie?” Logan shouted “Yeah, im fine.” she shouted back. A cuckling Colt ran forward collecting the ball. He reached down scooping it up.

“See something you like?” He shot her a wink as he threw the ball back, and went back playing with Luca and Logan. Ellie sat down in her chair, catching some sun her mind wandering back..

*******

She had just walked downstairs to grab a drink of water. It was hot up in the loft. She heard some noises and grunts coming from the garage area. She crept out to see who it was. She stopped in the doorway seeing Colt working on his bike. He stood ripping off his shirt and tossing it on the tool box behind him. She watched as his glistening sweat covered muscles flexed with each motion he made. She leaned against the door frame, marveling in the sight of him. when she met him she couldn't stand him, He was so smug and arrogant, but boy was he was nice to look at.

He stood noticing her there, smirking as he walked towards her, noticing the way she was staring at him. “See something you like?” He said as he walked past her and into the kitchen, washing his hands.

“I ah. It's hot. I mean, up there. Its um, hot.” she stumbled on her words

“You said that already.” He chuckled as he walked up to her grabbing the bottle of water and drinking it.

“You are so infuriating.” she scoffed as he pushed closer to her, his body inches from hers.

“Oh yeah? You gonna do something about that?” he challenged. her eyes locked with his as she reached out and touched his chest. She felt his muscles contract under her touch.

His lips were on hers in an instant. His tongue parting her lips causing a soft moan to escape. They pulled back breathless, their eyes searching each others as they came together again. Her hands lacing his black locks. He backed her up against the fridge knocking several items off the top. His lips left hers placing frantic kisses along her jawline, making their way down her neck as he nipped and gently sucked her pulse point. “Mmmm Colt.” He slipped his hand up her loose tank top, gently caressing her bare chest. His lips were on hers again as her hand reached down softly palming his already stiff length. He moaned out thrusting himself against her hand. “Fuck Ellie, I want you. I want you so bad.”

His lips finding her neck again. “Colt. Please.” Her body ached for his touch.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” They froze in place seeing Mona smirking.

*****

Ellie shook the thought from her head as she watched the three before her building a sandcastle.

“Your side is lopsided Kaneko, what's wrong? Don't you know how to build a sandcastle?” Logan boasted.

“Yeah. Well your side is to dry.” He reached out pushing his finger into the side of Logan's tower. “See, just fell apart.”

“What's Kaneko?” Luca asked

“It's my last name.” Colt smiled at the question.

“Why did Logan call you that?”

“Well, that's what everybody used to call my dad and sometimes me.” Colt answered somberly, Logan gave him a sympathetic look.

They continued to work on the sandcastle, both making little cracks at each other undetected to Luca. “um Colt, what are you doing?” Colt looked at her confused “what is that?” She pointed at the small cannon he constructed in the tower. “This cannon? Oh, its to help defend the castle against intruders.” He grinned clearly pleased with himself. “magical mermaid princess's do NOT have intruders Colt.” Logan snickered “Ok. Ok. No cannons.”

Luca stood up “Ok, it's time for swimming. Mommy, let's go swimming.” Luca yelled running over to Her. Colt and Logan stood up “Ok I still hate you but, the cannon was a nice touch.” Logan whispered, Colt smirked “Next time, we make a mans castle.”

Ellie stood up and shimmied out of her shorts, leaving her tank top on walking towards the water. “Mommy, you left your shirt on. You gotta take it off.” Ellie stood there frozen “Mommy is just going to leave her shirt on ok.”

“Mommy. You don't wear a shirt in the water.” she put her hands on her hips. “Yeah Ellie, what are you chicken?” Logan teased. Ellie rolled her eyes at him lifting her shirt. She noticed their eyes glued to her. Why not have a little fun? She thought taking Lucas hand and walking towards the water, sashaying her hips eith a little extra oomph to show off. Colt and Logan stood there staring. Ellie was beautiful before, but since she had gotten older she matured into a stunning woman.

Logan spoke, his eyes still fixed on her “Dude I still hate you but..”

“Don't even gotta say it man, I know.” Colt replied.

“You guys coming?” Ellied called out. Logan took off running, Colt on his heels. Logan pushed him causing him to lose his balance. Colt stumbled over grabbing Logan's legs as he took him down with him. “Damnit Colt.” Logan grunted. “Don't fucking go there Logan, you pushed me.” he huffed as they scrambled to their feet.

They played around in the water for a while, each taking turns with Luca. Colt had her out in the water, teaching her how to wakeboard, while Logan and Ellie walked along the beach. “So, tell me what you're thinking.” she noticed Logan's far off expression. “oh. Um nothing.” he shrugged her off. “Seriously Logan, its ok. It's a lot to take in, just tell me what you're thinking.” He stopped walking. “Luca is an amazing little girl. I never had a father, the closest thing to a dad I had was Kaneko. What if im not any good. The thought of being a parent is scaring the hell out of me.” Ellie tried not to let the sting of his confession effect her. He only just found out a few days ago, and it is a lot to process. “I understand.”

“Hey,” He took her hand in his “I'm not saying I wouldn't be happy if she is mine, I would be over the moon. I would step up and take care of Luca and you. But, I am ok just being Uncle Logan too. If the odds don't end up weighing in my favor.”

Ellie smiled at him, he had been amazing throughout this whole thing so far, he was sweet, thoughtful, amazing and kind. She reached out cupping his cheek. “Thank you. You have no idea how great it is to hear that.”

Luca and Colt came up “Someone wants ice cream.” Colt announced as the eager little girl danced around in front of them. “How about uncle Logan takes you, is that ok?” Ellie stifled a laugh “Alrighty! Oh yeah! Come on uncle Logan.” she grabbed his hand pulling him towards the concession stand.

Colt gave her a confused look “Uncle Logan?” Ellie smiled and shook her head. “He said he would be content being uncle Logan if she wasn't his.

“Huh. That's mighty big of him.” Colt looked down at the sand.

“Guess he is making light of this awkward situation,” she glanced over at the concession, watching logan carry Luca on his shoulders. “Speaking of, how are you adjusting. You've had less than 24 hours. Its a lot to process.”

“Me?” He pressed his fingers to his chest. “Im fine. Luca is a piece of work, just like her mother.” Ellie giggled “So what about you? Do you think you could be Uncle Colt?” They walked along the waters edge.

“Well, that would be impossible since she's mine.” a smirk tugged on his lips.

“Colt, how are you so sure of this? I have had 6 years to wonder, and 5 of them looking at this little girl swearing one minute she's Logan's, and the other yours.” she started to become upset. the last thing he wanted to do was make her upset.

“Hey, El. Look at me,” He tilted her chin up with his finger. “I would be anything you needed me to be. Father,Uncle, friend. I would do anything you asked of me.” She stared into his deep brown eyes she knew he was telling the truth. She felt herself gravitating towards him, wanting so badly to press her lips against his.

She pulled away quickly, stopping herself from making a big mistake. “Colt..” She breathed out. “Give me a chance Ellie. Let me be the husband you deserve.”

Logan and Luca returned from the concessions, luca completely cover in chocolate Ice cream. “Ok, let's get you washed off, its about time to pack it up for the day.” Ellie reached for her hand leading her back to the water.

They said their goodbyes as Ellie got Luca buckled into the car seat. Telling each of them they could catch up soon. As she drove away she looked at both Logan and Colt in the rearview. She was definitely lying when she said it wasn't about her. One wrong move and she could lose her heart to one-or both- of them again."

Tag:

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @powdesiree0816 @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear @simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent @akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327 @choicelogansbitch @choicesarehard @paisleylovergirl @itskismetbb @itsmarleen @rhischoicesfanfics @distinguishedsaladoperawinner @iplaydrake

#fast cars and freedom rod au #choices ride or die #ride or die bad boy romance #colt x ellie #colt kaneko #colt x mc #logan x ellie #logan x mc #logan rod

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frekydeki · 6 years ago

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Returned

A/n: I’m terrible because I haven’t posted for the @ibwhellospring writing event in like six days... But I’m gonna catch up while I can, and since I’ve finally had time today to sit and write, I threw this together. Generally speaking, this is a fluff, but me being me, it ends in angst. Please enjoy! :)

Prompt: First kiss/ last kiss

Pairing: (Bucky X reader) at this point I guess it’s not really a surprise I’m just such a hoe for Bucky

"So this is the weeks dame, huh?" Is sighed next to the soldier. He removed his eyes from his brunette date and put them on the red lipped woman next to him. Her eyes turned up to his, egging him on for an answer but instead closing up his throat; boy she was poison to him. "Now what's that supposed to mean?" He barked down to her, leaned closer to her in that booth, and grinned at the spark he saw snap into her eye. Instead of rewarding him with the smack of her exceptionally well chosen words - she'd always had a tongue sharper than anything he could think of - she returned her eyes to the small form uncomfortably lingering next to the woman and her red haired friend. "I'm just wondering if she'll beat your record, Buck." The girl sighed as she put her drink down and rested her empty hands on her lap. "Not that it'd be the hardest thing to beat. I mean, the longest you've kept a girl by your side's been what? A week and a half, two at most?" "Don't you make me sound to be a player! She'll up and leave me faster than that floating car broke down earlier!" He had to really strain his ear to catch the soft, wind chime of a giggle that came from his friend next to him. "Well shouldn't you be up there with her, then? Now if I were ever taken on a date, I'd be darned if he wasn't spending time with me!" Bucky, at that, let out an exasperated sigh, smacked his lips, and flicked his wrist at the girl. "I couldn't leave you alone at the table." He flicked his head in the direction of the greasy haired man that'd been eying his friend the entire time they were there, "I wouldn't want the vultures swoopin’ in, lookin for a meal."

"He couldn't say a word to me over this music no matter how hard he tried Bucky. I'm deaf as a doorknob here!" She whined, patting her hand over her pretty locks of hair. He smiled warmly at the pout the girl wore while she was in that joint... He knew she hated to be in such loud, crowded places, but Bucky just couldn't stand it if he didn't spend his last day in Brooklyn with his best friend and the girl he adored more than his mother's pies on a summer afternoon. A tray slapped down onto the table, filled with fries and every other type of ungodly food, and one little thing of ranch and carrots for the tiny framed man scowling at the two; both smiled warmly and sweetly up to him. "Bucky, you bring (Y/n) and I along to the most expensive diners in town to impress these girls you like to swing around with and frankly I am quite tired of it. It's eating us out of house and home!" Steve cried, motioning to his wide eyed sister. She merely laughed and pulled her older brother down by his sleeve. "Stevie don't you worry about something so measly as that! Tonight is the last night we get with Sergeant Barnes before he's off to be a hero, so we best make the most of it! Now hand me those fries I feel like I'll pass out if I go any longer without food." Her brother shoved them to her, lecturing her about how unhealthy they were to eat. "You alright there, doll?" Bucky asked the red cheeked girl, evaluating everything that was off about her that night. He'd been taking notes since he first laid eyes on her from that staircase all the way up to that moment, when it'd become too much for him to ignore anymore. Her lips were pulled down at the corners rather than resting lazily in a smile... Her eyes kept getting lost in thought while staring at nothing in particular. She'd take up her skirts in her fists or clench them together until her knuckles were white in her lap. Her shoulders were slouched when she'd usually hold them back in a confident manner... And he just couldn't help that knocking on his gut that (Y/n) just wasn't feeling well at all. In response, the girl hesitated before popping the fry in her mouth. Her eyes were kept on her hands for an alarmingly long time, and neither of those men failed to catch on to that. After she swallowed that fry, however, she beamed up to him with a smile brighter than any sun, and one that was even faker than any plastic he'd seen; it made him sick to his stomach if he was honest. "I'm dandy as a dandelion!" Steve's skin crawled with the cold lie that came from her lips. "Please don't lie like that, Y/n... It makes me uncomfortable." Bucky sighed with a smile. Her lips pursed in disappointment. "I've been just fine, right, Steve?" She looked to her brother expectantly; his answer less than satisfied the girl now glaring at her brother after the words, "No, Y/n, you've not been. A moping mess slouching around the apartment is what you've been." Came out of his mouth mindlessly. Bucky laughed heartily at the betrayed look that came from his friend. Silfishly, his thoughts began roaming about what could be knocking her so off the mark... And he ventured that perhaps it was him bringing yet another girl with them - she'd always acted a little like that when he did, but never so drastically - and even worse than that, he thought it may have to do with him leaving tomorrow in the morning. Silence rang between the three figures at the table, one carelessly snapping away at carrots, one taking preoccupied, nervous sips of her drinks, and the last staring very intensely at the other. "It's gotten pretty stuffy in here." Steve commented. Y/n nodded in agreement very quickly. "Let's go for a walk, then." Bucky suggested to the two, who gladly began gathering their things to get out of there as fast as they could. "I'll go get-" "They left. Said something about having a curfew, and told me to tell you they had a good time and would write ya." Bucky's mouth drew into a thin line. That was- "How rude!" Y/n screeched as she snatched her purse from the leather booth and stormed between them directly towards the door. "Any person with even a little bit of decency would've said goodbye themselves! For shame! Those young ladies were a bad pick on your part Barnes! And don't you say I didn't tell you so!" She was on a rant just a little ways in front of the two meandering men, both offering her warm smirks. She was a rather passive woman, until someone lit her wick and she exploded like the firecracker she was. "Say, Buck... When're you gonna tell her?" Steve leaned closer to his friend and kept his voice low so the woman in front of them couldn't hear. "Tell' er what?" Bucky stuffed his hands into his uniform pockets and looked back to the flailing woman in front of him. "Tell her that you like her?" His feet stopped moving, and so did his lungs. Like her? Like her! His wide blue eyes turned onto his friends, his mouth open and looking for the words to say to him. "I... I have no idea what you're talking about!" He coughed as he moved to catch up to Steve. A nice laugh left his friend. "Well, I just thought that maybe since you invited her everywhere, watched her every little move, smiled at everything she did, stood so close to her, found random excuses to touch her... Ya know, that you'd maybe like her... Maybe..." Steve raised his eyebrow at him before continuing his interogation, "Love her even?" "Even if I did, Steve, nothings gonna turn of it." "Why?" "I'm off to war. She's here. Plus... Y/n's your little sister. I'd hate to offend you." "Offend me! You? You're my best friend!" Steve rammed his boney elbow into Bucky's rib cage. "There's not a better man I know, and no one I'd trust her more with. Besides... There's not a man she loves and treasures more than you, Buck." Silence rumbled between the two. One having a revalation, the other painfully tired of watching the two love birds dance around each other and avoid every chance to make a move. "Other than me, of course." The blonde added. Bucky let out a loud laugh. At that, the girl locked her fiery eyes on the soldier. "Something funny, Barnes?" "Not at all!" She remained in her spot while he stepped dangerously close to her; instead of backing down she remained firm in her spot, raised her chin, and narrowed her eyes playfully. "You might not be a Sergeant mister but I'll still take ya!" She challenged. Bucky grinned as he leaned down a little closer to her. "Yeah? What'll you do about it, doll?" She was going to bite back at the brunette but Steve called down to the two from the doorway. "I'm going in. I'll catch a cold if I dilly out here much longer. I'll see you in the morning, Buck. Come inside soon, Y/n, can't have you getting a cold either." With that, his small frame was gone from view. The girl stepped up the stairs a little while Bucky stared in wonder; did she truly love him? She must've felt his eyes on her, because she snapped around and leaned to catch his darting blue eyes. "It's everything alright Bucky?" "Peachy!" She raised her brow as she tightened her folded hands on the handles of her purse and watched him intensely. "It's cold out!" He blurted nervously, messing with the hat on his head. "You got assigned to day, right?" Her voice had taken on a much softer chime. Bucky let out a loud breath through his nose. He nodded as he tried to ignore the burning beginning in his upper abdomen. "107th." He answered. "Steve got in too... Special circumstances he says." She quietly mumbled as she kicked the toe of her black heel on the step. It didn't take much examining for Bucky to notice the glazed look taking over in her downcast eyes. Bucky, without thinking much - he never did when it came to Y/n - took a few steps up to her and put his hand on her chin. "I'll protect him with everything I have, Y/n. Always have. Always will." She stared up at him, and he could see she was trying to steel her quivering lip. She nodded and sighed after she gazed into his eyes a little longer before she took her chin from his grip and walked the rest of the way to her door. But she stopped, and Bucky was still there watching her go. "And what about you, James?" She quietly asked. His chest was swarmed with warmth; because of anxiety about the morning or the concern dripping from her eyes, he didn't know. She brought her eyes to his again, "Who will protect you? Will you come back to me, James?" Her voice cracked. It broke his heart to see how petrified she was to see both of them go in the morning. "I promise I'll make it back to you, and with Steve right next to me." She clenched her jaw. "You better, James Buchanan Barnes. You better." She grabbed the door, but hesitated again. He didn't have much time to react other than to draw in a quick breath as she descended the stairs and pressed her lips to his gently. He felt the tremble in hers. Faster than it started, she pulled away... It was a shame he didn't have time to pull her closer. "You make sure you keep that promise. Good night, Bucky." She whispered before she scrambled into her apartment with red cheeks. He stood on those wet steps, staring at where Y/n was, until the cold of the damp night began to shiver in through his sleeves. He'd prayed several times since that night that it wasn't the last time he'd see her beautiful eyes or feel those soft lips - even though she'd chew on them when she was nervous or stressed, he noticed - and carried her picture in his pocket during every battle. He'd come to terms with forgetting everything else about Brooklyn, but not her. He'd forget the sound of dance music, or the echo of music from a cars radio as it passed by, and even the taste of seasoned food... But not Y/n. Her eyes were locked in his mind forever, until they scrambled his memories and finally took her away from him after twenty years.

He let out a sob that was dangerously close to a scream. His friend, the one he only just reunited with, was trembling; it's so out of his character that even Tony zips his mouth shut. Steve clenches his jaw, still trying to comprehend what's standing before him. Y/n should be older now. With white hair and laugh lines, grandchildren dancing around her, apple pies steaming on her counter. But still with those vibrant green eyes, still waiting for them to come home with a smile on her lips. So why are her eyes so dull? Why is her skin wrinkle free, her pink lips in a frown, hair dirty but still deep with color. Why is there a gun in her hand? Why is it pointed at Steve's chest? On her uniform - black and tight on her strong body - burned a symbol that made Bucky want to vomit... "Y/n..." Steve whines, not thinking -maybe even not strong enough - to raise his shield to her; his little sister would never hurt him. Falcon has to step between the blonde and the storm of bullets Y/n’s letting loose from her gun. One set of blue eyes fall vacant, and the other venomous with rage; Steve has lost his final comfort of believing that at least his little sister had a chance, and Bucky can't stop asking himself that same damn questions: How long was she tortured in the same building, in the same way as him? How many times did she cry for him? For Steve? How long did it take for her to break? If he were stronger... If he fought back, could he have saved her? It rattled him to the core that she had endured such horrors, and all of it done just under his nose. Bucky blocks a small punch from the small girl - discovering her to be considerably strong - and searches to catch her eyes. He shamelessly lets his lip contort as he watches those vacant eyes, searching his in confusion; will he ever be able to get her eyes back to the one's he loves?

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honeyjaez · 5 years ago

Text

Maze of Miroh- Chapter 6 “Operation Save Jeongwoo Pt 1″

“So Seungminnie” Hyunjin mused from his seat in the corner “What’s the plan?”

All eyes turned towards the red headed boy who adjusted his glasses on his face. “Well to start Hyunjin, you can shut the hell up with that Seungminnie shit. Secondly-“he turned to face the group, eyes hard. “Let’s lay down some ground rules”

Minho watched as he pointed towards the van’s backdoors towards the alleyway that was their object of infiltration “If my calculations are right… and they always are. Jeongwoo was last seen here. Now it’s probably swarming with Agents, so we go in, we look for Jeongwoo, hopefully save him, and get the fuck out.” He turned to look at specifically at Hyunjin who Minho now noticed was sucking on a lollipop “No hero business. Got it?”

Hyunjin smirked at him, leaning forward in his chair and taking the piece of candy out of his mouth “Don’t worry Minnie. I’ll always be your hero”

Minho watched with an amassed glint in his eye as Seungmin let out a very drawn out sigh, obviously ignoring Hyunjin’s flirty comment and turned towards the others. “Jisung will stay here as he will be our eyes in whatever hell we are getting ourselves into.”

Minho couldn’t help but glance at the squirrel boy who sat at the master computer chair. He didn’t tear his gaze away from the monitor but Minho noticed his tense posture.

“Woojin stay here with Jisung.” Seungmin ordered.

The eldest let out a whine “Aww why do I have to stay here?”

“Because” Seungmin started “Someone smart needs to be here and I don’t feel like hanging out with Jisung.”

This seemed to snap the brown headed hacker out of his trance because he threw his head around and glared at the youngest. “Hey!”

“Not to interrupt…” Minho interjected quietly from his seat “But shouldn’t the doctor be going with us? What if we get hurt?”

Seungmin turned around, gathering a few more things off the desk, not bothering to look at him “Because he is our doctor is the very reason he needs to stay safe. If we lose Woojin then there goes 90% of the groups brain cells after me. I have enough medical training for the basics. Just try not to get hit.”

The 4 boys in question jumped out of the van. It was still raining outside heavily and it coated their vision in a haze like mist. Minho had to narrow his eyes to see towards the end of the alleyway that stood in front of them. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of a door that was at the very end and his heart tightened.

Jeongwoo was somewhere down there.

Minho just hoped that they weren’t too late.

He jumped when he felt a nudge on his shoulder and looked up to see Hyunjin smiling down at him while holding something in his hand. When Minho took no movement to grab the object Hyunjin grabbed his hand gently and placed it in his grasp. “It’s an earpiece. That way we can all stay in communication with each other and you can hear what we are talking about”

Minho looked at the younger boy with wide eyes and nodded once before placing the foreign object in his ear. His eyes must have betrayed him because he felt another nudge from the black haired boy and he turned to see a look of sympathy on him. “It’s alright to be scared…. I would think you’re crazy if you weren’t.”

Minho let out a pained chuckle staring at the ground. “You aren’t” he mumbled.

Hyunjin echoed his own laugh and Minho turned to look at him staring through the rain soaked vision, up towards the sky. “I’ve also been doing this for a while. But you are wrong if you think there isn’t a part of me scared right now.”

Movement in the corner of his eye caught Minho’s attention and he turned his gaze to Seungmin who was talking to quietly to Changbin. The shorter boy’s eye glanced towards Minho’s, a look of distrust and annoyance in them. Seungmin kept moving his lips, speaking to him but because of the storm Minho couldn’t hear what was being said. He saw Changbin finally let out a long sigh and nodded once. He made his way over to them much to his own dismay and he braced himself.

But the shorter boy just stood there in front of him, looking him straight in the eye. Finally he reached behind him and offered Minho a small black object. Minho realized with widened eyes that Changbin was giving him a gun, and his heart sunk down towards his feet.

He has never liked guns. Not one bit.

Noticing his hesitation Changbin hisses at him. “We are going into enemy territory. You need something to protect yourself.”

Hyunjin stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay Minho hyung” he said next to him, seemingly knowing what caused his hesitation “We will work hard so that you won’t have to use it.”

Minho stared at the taller boy, eyes still wide with fear. He let out a loud gulp while nodding, now looking straight at the object. With shaking hands he took it out of Changbin’s grip and held it far from him. Changbin rolled his eyes and glanced at Hyunjin. “Show him how to use it so that he doesn’t kill himself, or worse, one of us.” and abruptly turned back towards Seungmin, who was now chatting on the phone.

Minho felt gentle hands coming up and hovering over his.

“This is the safety. See how it’s popped in here? That means it’s on, it won’t fire. Just take it off and start shooting. Just make sure when you are done with it you always turn the safety back on”

Minho nodded, hanging on to every one of Hyunjin’s words like glue.

“Just try not to shoot me with it” a rough voice called and Minho turned to see Seungmin, no longer on the phone gazing at him with annoyance but also a hint of…was that tenderness?. But before he could delve more into it, his gaze turned back neutral. “Jisung!” he called backwards without turning his head. Minho watched as the brown haired boy poked his head out from the door.

“Move the van in case more agents come back.”

Jisung nodded “We will. And if you guys get hurt down there don’t hesitate to call us.”

Minho was so engrossed in the gun his hand that he didn’t even notice Jisung’s gaze land on his body, unmoving. “Take care of each other… okay?”

Hyunjin let out a small chuckle, throwing the lollipop on the ground “Yes mom”

“When we get in there” Seungmin was now talking to the rest of them “Stick to the sides. Jisung will know better what we are dealing with once inside and he can direct us. But under no circumstances do you shoot unless absolutely necessary. Got it?”

Minho felt a hand on his shoulder and knew Hyunjin was reassuring the group about Minho. He mentally thanked the tall boy and turned his gaze towards Seungmin, nodding once.

“Okay then.” Seungmin said pushing Changbin forward “Let’s get it”

The group walked forward through the rain. Changbin leading the front while Hyunjin took the back, keeping Seungmin and himself sandwiched in the middle. The way the two shooters moved almost had Minho in a state of Awe if he wasn’t scared shitless. Their footsteps were silent, and they moved in perfect synchronization. As they made their way up to the metal door Changbin motioned with his hands something that Minho didn’t quite catch. He felt Seungmin grab him, pushing his body up against the wall to the side of the door. Changbin reached in his oversized pocket and produced a small white rubbery substance from it. Minho’s eyes narrowed.

“What is that?”

“Something I created” a voice said softly in his ear and he jumped when he realized Hyunjin was next to him. Minho watched with wide eyes as Changbin placed the small white object in the cracks alongside the door. He pointed towards Hyunjin who hit a button on his phone. Suddenly there was a small explosion. Loud enough to be heard by them, but quiet enough that no one else could hear it. “It’s a highly flammable substance.” He explained “It can open doors without actually damaging them.”

“That’s actually….really cool” he whispered.

“Quiet!” Changbin hissed as he slowly cracked open the door. Minho watched, his eyes narrowed as his breathing increased, it was now or never. Changbin poked his head through the door, looking left and right. After what felt like minutes he finally signalled his hands forward and the group slowly made their way in.

Inside, it was a rather poorly lit hallway. The single light in the middle of the ceiling was flickering off and on and Minho noticed a single door at the end of the hallway. There was no soul in sight.

As directed, the group stuck to the sides, inching their way towards said door.

“Okay Jisung” Seungmin hissed quietly “What am I working with?”

“Well” Minho jumped slightly as he heard Jisung voice in his ear, forgetting the earpiece was in “if you couldn’t tell already there is more to this building than just that hallway you guys are in”

“Thank you captain obvious” Seungmin muttered.

Ignoring him, Jisung continued “Past that door is a whole network of floors. I’m counting at least 20. They go deep...and I mean real deep.”

“Any idea where they might be holding Jeongwoo?” Minho pipped up. The group made it to the end of the hallway but had yet to walk through the door as they waited for more information. Minho could hear the furious clicking sounds of a keyboard on the other end and knew Jisung was looking. There was a frustrated sigh and Minho’s heart sank.

“I’m still trying to break into their security cameras but no such luck ye- Ahh!”

Changbin and Hyunjin both froze as Jisung yelled on the other end and surprisingly Minho’s own heart quickened at the sound.

“Jisung?” Changbin hissed

“Yeah-Yeah Sorry hyung I just got excited. I managed to crack their code so now I have access to their shit. Okay Okay Jeongwoo….” The boy trailed off, presumably to look for the missing boy. After a few agonizing moments Minho heard another frustrated exhale from the hacker. “Son of a bitch!”

“Jisung” Seungmin warned “Kind of in enemy territory. We don’t have time to dilly dally. Talk to me.”

“Right” Jisung mumbled “Well I have good news and bad news….”

Oh No.

“The good news” Jisung said “Is that I have access to The Orders Schematics and Cameras which means I can warn you if Agents are headed to beat your ass. The bad news is that none of the cameras are showing me any sort of Prisoners. No cages. Nothing. Which must mean that there is a second set of camera’s not attached to The Orders wired mainframe, so unless I go in there and plug into the system manually I can’t locate Jeongwoo for you.”

“Figures” Changbin muttered, while rolling his eyes.

“So..” Seungmin placed a hand on his chin, thinking. “That means we gotta find him ourselves…” he paused and looked towards the door. “Let’s get in and reform the plan. Jisung? Are there any guys through this door?”

A few more furious clicks.

“Two guys on the room diagonal from the door.”

Seungmin looked at Changbin who nodded once. His eyes flashed towards Minho “Remember” he hissed “Do not shoot unless absolutely necessary” and he watched, heart stopping as Changbin opened the door and motioned them to follow.

In quite a contrast to the dimly lit, broken down hallway, the group now walked into a very, VERY bright floor. Minho’s eyes had to adjust for a moment to the brightness and he blinked to see multiple doors and a single elevator. There still were no souls walking about, but Minho could hear voices faintly from the room across from them.

“Jisung?” Changbin hissed seemingly asking a silent question.

“You are good to go hyung. I have control of their cameras.”

Without hesitating a moment longer Changbin motioned the group forward across the hallway. Minho’s heart pounded in his ears as his body lurched at the sense of adrenaline. They hung on the wall next to the room with Agents in it. Peering in, it looked like a security office, meant to guard the entrance to whatever The Order was hiding. Two Agents sat at a table, playing cards and rather unconcerned with whoever walks in. Minho felt himself rolling his eyes, somewhat annoyed that idiots like them were controlling the world.

Changbin motioned for Hyunjin who stood behind Minho. The black haired boy nodded, seemingly knowing what the older boy was asking of him. He tip-toed forward until he was un towards the cracked open door. Minho watched as he pulled out a small black ball, pulling on its string with his teeth. Then without warning he threw the ball in the room, shutting the door quickly.

Minho’s eyes widened but he said nothing as he waited to see what just happened.

After a few more moments Hyunjin pulled out another small black orb but this one was slightly different from the last. He cracked open the door, throwing the second ball in as well while grabbing for his phone and pressing a button. There was a soft ping heard from his device and he turned back towards the rest of the group.

“Okay it’s safe now.”

Hyunjin pushed open the door fully and made his way inside with the others following behind him. Inside, the two Agent’s heads were down on the table, snoring rather loudly. What the hell happened?

“Sleeping gas” Minho didn’t realize Hyunjin had come up beside him, seemingly knowing what was racing through his mind “Another invention of mine.” he said cockily while throwing the small black ball in the air. “Acts almost instantly and is so powerful that these guys probably won’t wake up until tomorrow-”

He stopped talking when he noticed Minho’s gaze on him. “What?”

“You are so cool.” he breathed and Hyunjins face blushed madly in response.

“T-Thank you”

“Hey idiot #1 and idiot #2” Seungmin hissed pulling out his tablet “Focus”

Minho and Hyunjin ducked their head in apology while making their way over to the other two. “So what’s the plan now?” Changbin asked with slightly raised eyebrows. Minho could see Seungmin looking down at his tablet rather hard, trying to concentrate.

“Jisung?” he asked, “You said you have access to the buildings schematics correct? Can you tell me where the security camera room is?”

“Sure thing Minnie.” Jisung said on the other line while typing furiously. After a few moments Minho could hear Jisung hum in response “The Security room is on the 10th floor below you…”

“Figures” Suengmin cursed quietly “Why would they make it easy for me?”

Other than the sound of the snoring guards the room was silent, allowing the tactician to think of a plan. Minho looked side to side, seeing both Changbin and Hyunjin stare at Seungmin, their eyes rather calm despite the serious situation. That's when Minho realized just how much the group trust in Seungmin’s instincts. His heart swelled with a short puff of pride as he looked at the boy a few younger than himself, bravely leading this group through hell. Finally after what felt like years Seungmin looked up, and started to walk towards the guards.

“New plan, and I guarantee Changbin won’t like it.”

“I don’t like the sound of that” the boy in questioned muttered.

“We have to split up.”

“Are you crazy!?” Changbin hissed, looking furiously at the red headed boy. “No Way. No I do not care one bit that Chan put you in charge. We are no-”

“If you are going to act stupid I’ll send you back to Jisung.” Seungmin hissed forcefully back at him. The two boys stared at each other, sizing one another up, but neither backing down. Finally Changbin growled, but threw his hands in the air in defeat.

“Good now if you'll let me finish.” he mused taking a hold of the guards security badge. “We’ll have to split up in two teams. Because Jisung doesn’t have access to the 2nd set of security cameras that will tell us where Jeongwoo is, it means one of us will have to manually look which means heading for the security room on the 10th floor.”

“Why can’t we all go down there?” Minho asked

“Because if we are to get Jeongwoo out of here we will need a distraction.”

The 4 boys were silent, the tension filling the room.

Suddenly Seungmin grabbed a hold of Hyunjin before anyone could protest.

“Changbin take Minho and head towards the Security Room and find out where Jeongwoo is hiding. Meanwhile Hyunjin and I go and place the bombs for out getaway distraction.

“What?!” Changbin roared as Seungmin and Hyunjin started to run down the hallway. “Why do I get stuck with the walking target practice?!”

“Because” Seungmin turned his head back towards them while raising a finger in the air “1. Someone has to go with him, and like you said he is a walking target practice. 2. I hate you. 3. Because he doesn’t have any fighting skills I would feel much better if our armed specialist was with him. And last but not least because I hate you.” the yelling began to get further and further away as the duo made their way towards the stairs leading downwards. “Good luck. And don’t forget if anything happens to him, Felix will never forgive you!”

And just like that they were gone, leaving Minho alone with a rather annoyed Changbin who was muttering curses after curses under his breath. Minho watched as he took hold of 2nd security badge and turned to look straight at him.

“If I die because of you, I’m going to kill you.”

Minho rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as the two headed out of the door towards the elevator.

“Jisung?” Changbin asked “How many guys stand between us and the Security Room?”

There was a click of a tongue on the other end and Minho heard Jisung suck in a breath. “I’m counting at least 25 hyung. Not to mention the guards in the actual room itself.”

“Fuck” Changbin swore as they walked into the elevator, placing the guards badge in the designated slot and pushing the button for the 10th floor below them.. “Is it too late to join the distraction party?”

“Yes” Minho hissed in annoyance. What the hell was he getting himself into? Minho, the adult who was still scared of the dark. The adult who still had issues ordering his own food sometimes. The one who never had the guts to confess to any one of his crushes. How did THAT Minho now find himself infiltrating a government building with a group of terrorists? And More importantly why was he somewhat enjoying the thrill of it all?

But before Minho could think anymore, he felt the elevator start to descend and he knew if it wasn’t before, it was definitely too late to turn back now.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jisung’s POV

A loud screech blasted in Jisung’s ear, causing him to throw his earpiece out. Catching his breath he placed it back in, calling his friends.

“Neh Chanbin hyung You guys okay?” Jisung called, clicking furiously at his keyboard. Woojin had moved their van a few blocks back out of view and he was now searching furiously through all of the info he had on the building in question. “Hyung? What was that loud noise” when his friend still didn’t answer Jisung began to worry. He saw on his monitor the 2 little green dots which meant they were still alive. He turned his gaze towards the other two green dots in the sea of red, still alive and well.

“Seungmin” Jisung called “I can’t get a hold of Changbin hyung are you guys okay?”

Dead Silence.

Fear began to trickle through Jisung’s whole body as he turned ice cold.

Not good. Not Good. Not Good.

“Jinnie?” Jisung hissed.

Still no answer.

“Fucking Hell. Minho?” he called “Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

In a fit of rage Jisung threw his ear piece on the table. Woojin, who was napping nearby woke up, startled. “Jisung? What's wrong?”

“Get Channie hyung on the phone.” Jisung said gravely, his eyes dark with worry as he stared at the 4 little green blimps that were his friends. Well his friends and 1 annoying guy. “We have a problem.”

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magicalsalamander · 7 years ago

Text

At Your Service

Pairing: BTS Suga ⇆ Reader

Summary: Your Grandpa adopted him, ex-K-9 police dog hybrid, to kept the auto shop safe. He had to fulfill his vicious guard dog hybrid appeal, but he was putty in your hands. However, when an unexpected event happens you took ownership of Yoongi, your best friend…but when tensions build, will he want to stay with you?

Words:10 K

Warnings: Rated Mature; Death of minor character, sexual content, knotting, oral (giving), switch/dom/sub, baby girl & baby boy, protection, explicit language, and dirty talk.

A/N: Hi…I wanted to release this one-shot as an intermediate while I’m working on another series. Thank you for being patient with me. This is supposed to be lighthearted~. Thank you for reading~ check out the other version to get a (slightly different perspective on this one-shot!

Masterlist | Monsta X Shownu Version

The whine of drills and sparks singeing metal played in harmony with the sound of heavy rainfall. The toxic combination of gasoline, oil and fresh water bit at his sensitive nose. However, with the years spent in the auto shop, the familiar smells have become comforting. He leaned against the steel service door frame, watching and guarding the entrance protecting the mechanics inside. The rain was thundering against the rooftop and metal awning shading the service doors. He closed his eyes, resting them just for a moment letting his six sense take over, as he was lulled by the cascading waterfall off the awning.

Wet footsteps sloshed against the asphalt, a new sound against the normal industrial noises. The shuffling of a paper bag accompanied the hurried steps. Inconspicuously, a floppy ear perked up towards the sound and when it got closer he pried open an eye. She was wrapped up tightly in a hoodie with her arms struggling over a large bag in her hands. She ran through the parking lot like she was running away from rolling lava. She broke thought the waterfall, her hoodie getting drenched, and pulled the hood of her hoodie back breathing a sigh of relief. He watched the pink and rosy burn on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. A smile radiated from her at him momentarily stopping Yoongi’s heart.

He closed his eye again, but a huff left you noticing his passive attitude. You pulled out a smaller bag out of the bigger paper bag you were carrying with a sly smile. You approached the grumpy, but docile pinscher. He seemed like a quiet one with his stoic exterior, but he could yap at times like a chihuahua. Yoongi put of this pretense of being an aggressor, a force to be reckoned with, but he melted like putty when it came to pets. He was all bark no bite…at least when it came to you.

Grandpa ran this shop since his twenties proudly being open for almost fifty years. When he first opened the suburban neighborhood was nice, but as the decades rolled on the times weren’t as kind. He adopted Yoongi from the shelter after one too many break-ins and cranky customers. He walked into the shelter with his hands clasped behind his back browsing the different cubbies with hybrids in them. He pulled a sour face when the workers offered him a bunny or kitten that tried to drag him in personally with their eyes. He insisted to the workers he wanted an aggressive, vicious looking dog hybrid. They sided eyed each other attempting to catch up with him as he perused the isles. He stopped at the end of the aisle eyeing the back of a Doberman, who rested his head on the wall in the corner of the cage.

Grandpa tapped the window, but the hybrid remained motionless. He tried again, and the hybrid turned around squinting his eyes angrily at him for disrupting his sleep. The worker behind him politely attempted to redirect him again, but he didn’t budge, “This one. I want this one.”

The angsty hybrids eyes perked up, even standing up to approach the glass between them. The worker tried to bargain again, “Yes, he used to be a K-9 for the police, but he doesn’t do his job. He’s too lazy.”

The Doberman growled at the worker who curled away from the glass at the noise. With his eyes still razor sharp he turned to Grandpa, “You want to adopt me?”

Grandpa didn’t lose his confidence; his smile was still intact. “Yes, if you’ll come home with me.” The workers fiddled with their hands trying to come up with a plan together to divert him, but the bond was set. Yoongi nodded, his expression softening for a moment. Grandpa looked towards the staff, “Well, what you are dilly-dallying around for, let’s get the adoption going whippersnappers?” He turned back to the hybrid, “What’s your name kid?”

His floppy ears twitched along with his tail behind him, he’s never been asked that before, “Yoongi…Min Yoongi.”

Grandpa could’ve gotten a dog, but he wanted someone that could actually talk to him. When the family ran away from his lame jokes, Yoongi was the one who had to sit through them. He did it diligently though, he was patient and took everything. It was his way of paying Grandpa back. He did everything for the old man.

You squatted down next to your family guardian, setting down the larger bag on the dry cement fishing out the smaller bag again. With your free hand, you carded your finger over his bangs, brushing stray hair out of his eyes. You then scratched behind one of his floppy, black ears feeling his head lean into your touch. You were always glad that your grandpa decided not to crop his ears in efforts to make him look threating. You argued with your grandpa, the innocent fifteen-year-old when you first met eighteen-year-old Yoongi, “His eyes already are scary, just leave his ears alone.” Which wasn’t a complete lie, whenever he squinted and pulled that stoic expression it promised nothing but nightmares.

Even though Yoongi, a majority of the time, was docile, you’ve seen the aggressive side of him once.

About six years ago you were working, basically hanging out, as the receptionist for the shop during summer break in high school. Yoongi was outside guarding from his usual post by the service door. A middle age male customer came into the shop obnoxiously chewing gum, acting haughty from the get-go. His choice of car was clearly making up for something he lacked. The man leaned against the counter trying to court you, even before you got the chance to ask, “How can I help you?”

From the outside, Yoongi kept a close eye on the situation the whole time. Yoongi decided enough was enough when the man was breathing your air almost as soon as it left you. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood between the customer and you, blocking you from seeing the pervert. Yoongi’s eyes barely looked up as they glowed behind the brim of his baseball cap (which had holes for his ears). In a bass growl, falling near an impossibly low register, the words tumbled off his tongue, “If you don’t want your car fixed, I suggest you leave.”

The customer scoffed leaning his head back chewing while he spoke, “Ho-yeah, says who buddy?” He tried leaning on the counter pushing past Yoongi to potentially pick up where he left off at. Yoongi’s nostrils flared and whipped around grabbing onto pervert’s arm and shoved his face down onto the counter. There was a resounding crack from the wooden countertop. The customer began shouting, even claiming he would sue if Yoongi didn’t let go. Your alarms went off, so you pulled Yoongi off doing your best to hold him back. The growling didn’t stop though. The customer stood up haphazardly pointing a finger at you both, “I swear when I come back I’ll…I’ll!” He couldn’t finish his sentence finding his anger get the best of him and just ran out the front door and zooming off in his red car.

Yoongi didn’t bother looking at you he returned to his post carrying on with his job. You were left there questioning what happened, but your stomach was doing flips on its own accord.

The pervert never returned.

He breathed out something like a sigh of relief, enjoying the warmth from your hand. The cold was crisp, but you were a welcoming heat. When your hand stopped scratching, he wanted to whine out in protest. “I brought you something.” He pried one eye open again setting his sight on the familiar bag, then both eyes opened. His tail wagged behind him thumping against the metal frame. You couldn’t help but giggle and hand over the steaming goodies. Even when you didn’t have a reason to come over, you’d stop by just to see Yoongi, your best friend. Grandpa may have rescued him, but really Yoongi rescued you. He was always there for you, he was like a shadow preferring to watch from a distance.

He thanked you with a grunt fishing in the bag, biting into a hot one then immediately regretting it breathing out a billowing plume of steam. You lightly smacked his thigh then brought your thumb up to the edge of his lips wiping away stray crumbs. He stopped chewing as your soft thumb ran against his lower lip. He could smell your sweet perfume mixing in with the fresh rain. The sudden bite of gasoline seemed sweeter, he could get drunk off it. “Eat slow silly, I don’t have my CPR training yet.”

His thumb swept across his lips before he took another bite. “Why do you need CPR training to be a secretary?”

You brought an arm up resting your head in your hand, “It’s a—don’t speak with your mouth full—requirement and new law.”

He watched a soft smile graze your face as your hand went back to swipe more crumbs off his face, but his hand encased around your wrist. He gulped hard, “I can clean myself Y/N.”

You pulled your hand away settling to ruffle his hair out of spite. You stood back up before he could bark at you. “I’m going to give this to Grandpa, I’ll see you soon Yoongi.”

He snatched your wrist once more and with pleading eyes peeking through his bangs, “Just—just one more scratch before you go. You don’t have to…if you don’t want to.”

You set the bag back down, sitting across from him. In all honesty, you were the one who enjoyed petting him the most. It was sort of therapeutic and it gave you an excuse to spend time with Yoongi. He wasn’t much of talker, often opting out for a nap, but being in his presence was more than enough. Again, you carded your hand through his hair gently massaging and pampering him. Yoongi watched your expression carefully, the way your pupils dilated and how you breathed softly. He wanted to bring you in closer, hold you to him, but…he couldn’t. You were his best friend the family’s guardian, not ever to cross the line to…a lover.

Time blurred as the rain danced against the awning and the sparks never died out.

The rain eventually stopped and the seasoned changed, so did how cold this year’s winter felt. The news came unexpectedly, a grim chill crept into the family.

You were the last one to enter the office. You squeezed Yoongi’s hand before you left the lobby, not sure if it was more for you or him. The lawyer offered you a seat across him, “Please, sit.” He cleared his throat, attempting some empathy for your situation. “Ms. Y/L/N I’m so sorry for your lost. It’s never easy to relay, but he left me with things to give you.” He opened a black case file, pulling out your grandfather’s will and testament. He slid a copy of the original over to you and spoke as you read it to yourself. “He left some of his assets to you, but the auto shop will be taken care of by your father.”

You continued to listen politely nodding along, but really you were immersed in reading his testament. His voice rung in your head as you read, “Y/N, you have a heart of gold. You think of others before yourself, and I’m sorry to put this burden on you, but I trust you with this the most. I’m transferring the ownership of Yoongi to you as he legal guardian. Please watch over him like you always have, he will protect you now.” Tears stained the crisp, white paper you sniffled and wiped away the tears apologizing to the lawyer for getting emotional.

“Your grandfather set up a fund for Yoongi to take care of him.” He slid over a bank book with the name Min Yoongi scribbled on the top by your grandfather. The meeting was wrapped up shortly afterward, grandpa was always straightforward with his wants.

Everything didn’t truly sink in until you made it back to the lobby. Yoongi stood up noticing a change in your scent; smelling the strong scent of salt and stress pheromones. It smelled like rotten eggs that were soaked in the sea. You stood before him with a lowered head and as a single tear rolled down your cheek, Yoongi caught it before it had a chance to gain momentum.

You grabbed his hand lacing your cold one around his warmth, “Let’s go home Yoongi.”

Yoongi never had been to your new place. You had just barely moved into the two-bedroom townhouse unit about three months ago. You finally saved up enough to leave your terrible previous roommates and find a place of your own. Working as a secretary for one of the CEO’s for a major company allowed you to slowly build up savings. You wanted to leave apartments behind and upgraded to a house. However, that was still out of your budget, so you settled on a townhouse. It was narrow…and old, but it was still home.

Yoongi’s eyes were busy looking around studying the street and the surrounding area. He blatantly narrowed his eyes at any pedestrians. He was nearly stepping on your heels, his instincts to protect you naturally taking over in this new environment.

You walked up to your short staircase arriving at your navy-blue door with the golden numbers 45730. Before you left earlier, you forget to turn on the outdoor light, so you took your phone out to work as a flashlight. You jiggled the keys in the lock; since the lock was old, it wasn’t a direct turn-the-key-to-right or left. Yoongi loomed over you like a shadow, having already scouted out the area; his black tail was twitching back and forth, and his nostrils flared subtlety. After the typical three jerks of the key in the lock, it budged to the left and opened the door.

You let Yoongi go inside first, then closed the door behind you. He lugged two suitcases with him setting them in the entry hallway. You took off your shoes placing them in the shoe rack next to the door. Yoongi watched everything you did and repeated after you. You flicked on the light, turning around with your cheeks flushed, “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

He turned around after placing his shoes in the rack following your lead taking in your sanctuary. The first thing he noticed was the dark wood staircase leading upstairs, then the small living room. All the spaces in your home were utilized strategically. The living room was composed of a couch, television and with knickknacks around to follow your personality. It was all tasteful a blend between comfort and contemporary. The kitchen was directly afterwards but before the transition of rooms, below the ascending staircase was a staircase that lead downstairs to a basement floor.

“I planned to turn the other room into some sort of office space, but it’s yours.” He nodded not bothering to look at you, still looking around inspecting everything with his eyes. He wanted to learn everything, he couldn’t fully contain his excitement. He felt even more compelled to do so because this was your place.

You snapped your fingers at him already halfway down the stairs with a suitcase in tow, “Yoongi, come on follow me.” He followed with a suitcase in tow watching your hair bounce as you trotted down the stairs. You flicked on the light of the room. The decorating was simple a white desk with a table lamp, a twin sized bed with a fluffy white duvet. “The bed used to be mine from my last place, but if you don’t like it we can get you a new one.” His eyes were busy, not truly quiet believing yet that he was going to be living with you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, “I’m going to make some dinner, feel free to look around and get comfortable. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

He nodded still busy understanding his new territory. He liked this room, it was better than his old room at the mechanic shop which really was an office. On the outside, he seemed nonchalant, but internally his stomach was doing flips.

You turned around once more in the doorway, messing with the edge of your shirt, “Yoongi.”

He turned around abruptly his wagging tail halting, taking in your sudden closed off language. With a bit of courage, you reached out and slid your arms around his sides to rest your head on his chest. He wasn’t built, but he was overall lean. He stood still, not quite sure where he should reciprocate or not, he wasn’t one for affectionate touches. “Are you okay? I haven’t’ had the chance to ask you yet.”

All the muscles in his face relaxed and he slowly encased you in a bear hug. “I’ll be fine Y/N.” You stayed in his arms, his comforting scent of sandalwood and hints of floral tones instantly soothed you. You practically melted in his arms, but before you did you pulled away squeezing his hands and made your way back up the stairs.

He went into action immediately as you left inspecting everything in his new room. He brought the comforter to his nose, it smelled like detergent, but your scent was faintly still on it. His tail was wagging at a blurring speed.

He left unpacking for later and decided to roam around the house. He bypassed you in the kitchen cutting up vegetables heading up to the second floor. He opened the first door in the hall finding a bathroom. He then moved onto the second room that was your bedroom. He hesitated but stepped in cautiously, not totally sure if he should be in your room. The set up was simple, similar to his room, but it had a touch of you and a queen size bed.

He looked out the window inspecting what was in the area noting to himself the street was just below. He needed to know all the spots in the house to make sure he could protect you in any way possible. He may not guard the auto shop anymore, but he wanted to protect his new home with the same, or even more attentiveness.

He was about to walk out of the room, but he stepped on something. He pulled his foot back inspecting the object through the darkness. His night vision wasn’t great, tittering somewhere between human and dog perception, but he felt fabric. He bent down and picked it up squinting to take it in. When his vision finally focused he realized it was a black lacy bra. From his neck to his ears a hot crimson blush changed his tan pigment to a molten red tone. He dropped it back onto the floor as if he never touched it. He sped out of the room reprimanding himself and reminding himself you were his best friend and he had to protect you.

You weren’t his…you weren’t his.

As he made his way back downstairs just as you were calling out for him, “Yoongi!” You were plating food but placed it on the coffee table instead of the two-seater dinner table. “I think it would be nice to watch some TV while we eat.” He sat next to you, opting to sit on the floor while you crossed your legs sitting on the couch. You turned and changed it to a channel you’d both enjoy.

You ate slowly eying Yoongi every now and then finding it difficult to bring up what you wanted to tell him. After swallowing a bite, he turned to you, “Spit it out Y/N.”

You almost choked on a bite of your own needing to take a swig of water before you spoke. You pulled up your purse and fished out the bankbook handing it over. Yoongi turned to you as you set your plate down, the atmosphere felt thick. “Yoongi, I know grandpa switched ownership to me, but I don’t want you to think of me as your owner. You’re my best friend, not a…pet.” You spat out the last word, it left a bad taste in your mouth. “You’re equal to me and…and.”

He set down his plate turning to you lacing his fingers in yours running his thumb over your knuckles. You nearly jumped back not expecting the affection touch. He continued to stroke your knuckles basking in the low hum of the TV. He always had a way of letting you know silently things were okay. You took a deep breath, “If you don’t want to stay, you’re not obligated to. You can claim independence and I will support you.”

His thumb stopped rubbing over your knuckles stuck in a divot. His eyes finding your trembling ones. You wanted the best for him and always wanted him to live the way he wanted. He deserved more than sticking by a service door and you wanted to give him the chance. His gentle stroking resumed, “I want to stay. I want to be with you.”

The double meaning of his words went over your head, so instead, you scooted towards him. “You want to stay?”

He smiled brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, “Yes.”

You encased his hand with both of yours, “We’ll figure it out things…together from here on out.”

He looked up to your face, finding himself in the reflection of your eyes. He didn’t know where he’s going to end up, but as long as it's near you, he knows he belongs there.

Together.

The sun and moon rose in intervals and before you knew it a month had passed by. Yoongi slept at dawn and woke up at noon, he found it hard breaking the old habit of staying up at night to guard. He would sit in the living room with the TV on low as he watched the windows. He felt at ease when he knew he was doing something for you. You sometimes would wake up and find him asleep on the couch. You’d always coax him to sleep in his bed with pets and as time went by he became more relaxed. You even took a few days off to spend time with him. The two of you had a rhythm and life went about as usual. You had to admit though, it felt nice coming home to someone. From the moment you moved into this house, it felt bare like it was missing life. It was something you couldn’t put your finger on, or fulfill. He filled a whole you never knew you were missing until happiness was overflowing. Yoongi was home.

Your keys jiggled thrice before the lock gave way, “Yoongi, I’m home.” The house was quiet, and you saw why immediately. Yoongi had headphones in as he was watching some videos on your laptop. You hooked your house keys on the key rack and gently closed the door behind you. You tiptoed your way over to the back of couch approaching the clueless Doberman. You’re truly surprised he hasn’t noticed you yet, he was really into the video he was watching. You stretched your neck to gander over his shoulder noticing what seemed to be a 90’s rap video. A cheshire grin grew as you slowly leaned from the back of the couch, almost resting your head on his shoulder. “Yoongi, what are you watching?”

A shiver ran down his spine setting each pore on alight from your hot breath on his cheek. He turned to the side immediately, instincts switched back on. You didn’t realize how close you were to his face, because as he turned his smooth, pink lips skimmed yours. Even though they were thin they still left a lasting effect. You pulled away slightly, not completely sure what to do. However, to egg on your confusion you felt a sense of regret. The tingle of his lips felt like pop rocks on yours. His eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets.

His pupils dilated, and his irises were engulfed black. Afraid to speak above a whisper, his tone came out more sultry than he wanted to, “Y/N?” His eyes darted down to your lips once then back up to yours, “When did you get home?”

His words were like a gong in your ear, a reminder that this wasn’t okay. He was your best friend. A swift kick of a reminder that best friends don’t brush lips or made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. You don’t exactly remember when this feeling bubbled in your gut. Maybe after he rescued you from the pervert, maybe you recognized earlier that he was handsome and smart. It was hard to put a finger on it. You stood back up hurriedly and pointed to the door, “Uhmm, just a moment ago…I’ll go make something to eat. You must be hungry!” You ran into the kitchen holding a hand to your lips.

Yoongi sat there, the headphones around his neck softly playing hip hop, in a daze not truly understanding what just happened. However, he knew…he wanted it to happen again.

You both sat at the dinner table silently nibbling on dinner. He was okay with the silence, but you weren’t. You didn’t want to stay in this awkward phase, but you found yourself at lost for words. You wanted to feel his lips again. You wanted to inch closer until his breath sent nothing but electricity up your spine like a paralysis. A million and one thoughts were running through your head. He deserved better than you though.

He knew you even better than the back of his own hand. He could tell you were tiptoeing around, acting like what happened earlier didn’t. He could smell the anxiety leaking from you. His heart was still racing from it, and he was more than grateful that you didn’t have hearing like a hybrid. However, if you listened close enough you could probably hear it.

He could admit that living with you for the past month has been the happiest time of his life. He found himself when you left, the first few weeks, marking his scent around the house. He listened to his instincts and acted upon them, telling him to leave a bit of claim of himself on you. He continuously did it because when you came back it would wear off after a few days. It was like he had no control over himself when it came to you.

After swallowing a bite, “How was work today?”

Your fork in your hand clattered against your plate not expecting him to break the ice. You cleared your throat, “Good, my boss has me running around doing extra work because of the upcoming office party this weekend.”

He raised a brow, “Do you want me to bite him for you, maybe that’ll give you more time?”

A huff of a laugh left you, then you couldn’t help the breathy laughs that followed. “Only if you’ll bite him in the ass?”

His face scrunched up in disgust, “Look Y/N, I’m not into those kinks like you are.”

Your mouth fell into an “O” shape, so you bunched up your paper napkin and threw it at him, “Yoongi!”

He rolled his eyes teasingly and you both naturally fell into line again, running parallel to one another again.

You brushed the hair curtaining in your face to set behind your ear. He licked the sauce accumulating at the corner of his mouth. “Yoongi, can I ask you a favor?” Your eyes peered over to him with glossy, puppy eyes. His pointed tail thumped against the wood of the chair, snapping sideways enjoying the submissive look in your eyes. He nodded waiting for you to elaborate, both set of ears open. “The office party is this weekend,” you pushed vegetables around on your plate feeling oddly nervous to ask him. He continued to chew staring at you, so you set down your fork feeling more stable that way. “We’re allowed to bring a guest. Would you come with me Yoongi? I would really like it if you could join me.”

He didn’t mind being in crowds, but he wasn’t the type of person to really go for it either. He swallowed thickly nodding, “As long as we don’t have to stay the whole night.”

You sighed in relief, “Yeah, yeah, I just need to be there for a few hours. Thank you, Yoongi.”

He was fusing with the buttons of his black button up. You bought it for him the day before, so he wasn’t sure the shirt fits. It seemed to fit and he could maneuver around comfortably, so that’s all that really mattered. He walked up the steps fixing his cuffs and looked in the mirror one last time fixing his hair. Surprisingly he felt a bit nervous, he’s never been to a party especially since it put on more pressure on him because these people were your peers. He was going to be on his behavior for your sake, or as you put it, “You don’t need to protect me here, so relax and enjoy it okay?” He scoffed thinking over your words again, how could he not protect you. That’s all he knew.

He heard your bare feet prodding down the staircase. You rounded the banister fixing an earring then smoothed out your dress, “How do I look?”

Yoongi lifted a brow looking you up and down, he wired his jaw shut willing it to stay that way. Your dress didn’t leave much to the imagination even though it was a modest bodycon. His eyes trailed the curve of your silhouette catching himself licking his lip. He bit it slightly to bring himself back to reality. “You look pretty.”

You were going to tease him, but you didn’t have much time left to get to the office. You thanked him and checked him stepping close to fix his shirt. “I’ll keep in mind to get you more black button-ups, they look good on you.” A blush threated to burn on his cheeks feeling the soft pads of your fingers brush against his chest. In an inhale out of reflex he caught your scent as well mixed with a floral perfume. This night was going to be difficult considering your visuals were enough to have him wanting to brush your lips again. Patience, he was the master of that….but tonight you were pushing his limits.

Yoongi felt out of place at your office, he opted to stick close by you the whole time. The party was held on one of the rooftop lounges. When he walked in everyone was dressed to the nines, he felt underdressed. You let him know that these people overdo it all the time, it’s a competition between themselves. You even winked at him, “You’re the best dressed Yoongi.”

When big executives came into the room you dismissed yourself for a moment to help your boss remember the faces and names of these people. “Save a dance for me later Yoongi.” He rolled his eyes, but you knew that was his way of sealing the deal.

He kept an eye on you the whole time you worked your way around the floor. You radiated a different glow amongst the crowd, so it was easy to find you. He sipped on the flute of whatever was in the glass. It was mostly in his hand to blend in. He brought it up to his lips gazing over the rim watching you. The way you stood with your shoulders back and the way your smile reached your eyes he could see why people gravitated to you.

His aura turned from a calm blue that bled into a tangible emerald green. He watched as your boss slid a hand around your waist and you didn’t even flinch. He began making his way through the crowd, excusing himself at people who had their noses in the air, wanting to break that very arm. As if you could sense Yoongi’s approach, you looked over to him and your expression towards him said it all: stop, don’t.

He felt everyone blurring fast around him as you went on smiling to the people in front of you…and your boss. He set the flute down on a passing waiter’s tray and faded away.

You strategically removed your bosses hand off your waist. In the aftermath of his unwelcomed touch, it felt like a greasy mark was left where his hand once was. His touch was cringeworthy, an act he put on in front of his colleagues to seem like a dominant male. You kept your eye on Yoongi, but when he approached you had to let him know you had everything under control. He needed to trust you, but when you looked for him again he vanished from your sight.

You excused yourself with a polite nod and went to look for Yoongi. He was all the way downstairs in the lobby, sitting at one of the many tables. You approached him cautiously, the click of your stilettos letting him know you were near. When he didn’t answer you calling his name you sat across from him, but he didn’t spare you a glance. His anger only boiled more when you didn’t smell clean anymore, but a rancid males scent…that wasn’t his. “Yoongi, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

He propped his chin on his hand, “I want to go home.” His tone was strict and a command, not a request.

You felt a twinge of hurt, but you didn’t want to force him to stay for your sake. “Okay, let’s go home.”

The car ride back was deadly quiet, the only sounds were the low hum of the radio. Halfway through the drive home, the clouds started rumbling. You stole glances at Yoongi to make sure he was okay. Normally he was fine with rain, but thunderstorms threw off his senses. However, his continuing odd behavior seemed to override it. When you open the door to the house he brushed past you and descended into his cave. You barely racked your keys before you heard the slam of his door. You stood at the entrance, contemplating what to do. Would it be too much to let him mull it over on his own, or should you help him?

You decide on the latter, things don’t solve themselves. Whatever this fit was it’s better to face it head-on. The descending staircase didn’t hold the same calm presence that you associated with Yoongi. You held onto the railing, your heels thumping as you walked down each step carefully before you stood in front of his door. Clenching and unclenching your fist you rasped your knuckles against the cold, hollow wood. He didn’t respond to you, so you carried on with persistence. “Yoongi, open the door…please.” When the sound of your heartbeat is the only thing you can hear, you bit back the feeling of disappointment. You tested the handle and it opened to a dark room.

He sat on the edge of his bed that was up against the wall with his head hung low. The moonlight that seeped through the equally as volatile clouds covered the room with a pale light. Blinking slowly, he brought his head up, the friendly brown warmth in his eyes toiling and swirling like thick tar. A flash of lighting broke through the cloud lighting up the room for a split second. His eyes were swimming with something dangerous.

His black bangs hung over his eyes, you finally understood the fear of those on the receiving end. “Y—Yoongi, what’s wrong? Why are you acting this way?” For the first time, you saw his sharp canines as he pulled back his lips to growl. You took two steps back towards the doorway bracing a hand to your chest, you didn’t understand the change in his behavior.

“Talk to me Yoongi, what’s wrong?” Waves of fear and anxiety rolled towards him, along with the scent of…your boss. It makes him antsier, not sure where to displace his anger.

He gripped the sheets tightly in his clutches turning away from you. “I want to leave. I can’t stay here anymore.”

Your knees felt weak, it was like he bit a chunk out of your heart and spit it out. Stinging tears welled up in the corners of your eye, but you found your voice, “Why?”

He sat up passing you to go into his closet lugging out a suitcase.

You walked slowly over to him testing the waters and wrapped your hand around his arm, “Yoon—.” Your hand was an epicenter of warm ripples sending goosebumps to rise on his skin, an instant calming effect. His emerald marbling with yellow again to a tolerable color. He caught it again, your boss’s scent and it was like someone poured black into the cauldron again; an irreversible acidic green.

With more force than necessary, he ripped your arm away. “I can’t stay y/n.” He fished around his closet pulling clothing from the hangers and stuffed it into his suitcase.

The sounds of your choked tears made him freeze. He rubbed his forehead letting a growl of frustration leave him. Another crack of lightning lit up the room as he chanced a glance over his shoulder, “Is that all I can ever be to you…just a friend?” He didn’t want to come across this aggressive, but he couldn’t play ignorant anymore. He couldn’t just brush these feelings under the rug anymore. You were his best friend, but he wanted more, always have and always will.

He turned to you and it gleamed at him, a single tear fell from your eye. “Yoongi—what are you—what’s gotten into you!”

His resolution didn’t break no matter how much he wants to bring you into his arms and forget it all. He had to be rational, rationalize his jealous by distancing himself. He spun around on the ball of his feet, the feral side of him take over. All rational out the window, when you raised your voice at him. He was done with tiptoeing like he was walking on eggshells. He was listening to his beast, each step he took towards you was like a predator closing in on its prey. The air around you thickened like you were drowning in molasses.

You almost tripped stepping backward, not sure how far Yoongi was going to go. Your heel caught on the edge of the rug and you slipped backward trying to catch onto anything before you met an end. Yoongi caged you in his arms, one wrapped tightly around your waist and the other slammed against the wall bracing the both of you. His head hung low with his bangs brushing against your cheek. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly feeling your stomach in your throat.

He lifted his head gently brushing his lips on the outer shell of your ears, “I’m not one to share Y/N. I want you, more than a friend. All of you or nothing.”

A soft mewl left your lips without your control and a satisfied non-threatening growl left him, happy with your responses. The way his low growls sent vibrations to your core was sinful. “Yoongi, no, you don’t. You should find a mate, I can take you to a shelter or find someone online.” With every word it felt like you were swallowing hot coals, so you ignored the burn of your thoughts. “You deserve someone better…then me.”

He brought his head back slightly his gleaming eyes still hung low, “No. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

“Yoongi, please, think—,” you couldn’t find the words as his canines nibbled roughly on your ear lobe, then he licked affectionally afterward. He was teasing you, playing with you, it must be the weather. His arm tightened around you when a new scent was introduced to him. He’s never smelled this on you before, but it was absolutely delicious. It urged him on further, he wanted—no needed—to drench you with his scent and mark you as his. He couldn’t stand it, you being touched by someone else, or you smelling like someone else, because you were his, his mate.

He flatted his tongue licking the exposed skin of your neck that your dress let him reach. Your arm latched onto his bicep squeezing it tight, a mix of a whine and yelp escaped you. “Yoongi, look at me please.”

His tongue took a trail upwards towards your jaw, leaving kisses in its wake. He leaned his forehead against you with his eyes glued onto yours. He could see the flexions of your pupils, the windows to your souls laying everything on the table for him. He wanted to be let in.

You brought a shaky hand up to his cheek, “Do you mean that Yoongi?”

Your soft touch made him close his eyes asking, pleading, his beast to wait and control itself. He nodded rubbing your foreheads together with a sound mixed between a hum and a grunt. He was never good at expressing himself, never finding the right words or expressions. He was always characteristically cold, but it wasn’t intentional. At this moment he didn’t need much of that, he didn’t need fancy words or lengthy monologues…things should be simple. Love is simple. He opened his eyes slowly then licked his lips, “It’s always been you, baby girl.”

Like a reflex, your hand on his arm clenched at the nickname. Softly chuckling he returned to his new favorite spot, nuzzling against your ear again, “Do you like that nickname…baby girl?”

You nodded lightly afraid to commit to the name, afraid of the power it held over you.

He bit teasingly on your ear, his voice in the deep register and commanding, “Use your words baby girl.”

Your back inclined off the wall feeling his hand on your waist trailing down to latch onto your hip. Through a shaky breath, you lost your train of thought as his hand traced random patterns and massaged at your flesh. “Yes, I like it...I like you Yoongi.”

His eyes took a deeper turn, taking you into the abyss that was him. He couldn’t bite back the smile threatening across his face. A sense of relief flushed over him, finally.

He leaned in captured your soft lips with his. He felt like his head was swimming he wanted to swallow you, taste you, mold together. He held back his urge to take you right then and there wanting to coax more out of you. He never thought he’d live or see the day where you returned his feelings. His hands took a mind of their own, sliding and taking home all over you.

To stabilize yourself your hands tangled in his thick black hair. Your hands found purchase finding his floppy ears caressing them softly. A mewl escaped you as you pulled away for a moment trying to find air, but he wasn’t having it. His lips caught yours again, a rumble erupting out of his throat. He felt like he couldn’t get enough, you tasted so sweet. He backed you flush into the wall and his kisses went from hard and passionate to soft and savoring.

You took this chance to switch things around and pushed him back until his calves met his bed. He pulled you down with him his arm was still tightly wrapped around your waist. You quickly adjusted yourself to straddle his thighs. He chased your lips, but you held a finger to his lips sitting patiently. Your eyes were half-lidded, lips were swollen and bruised from kissing. God, you were a goddess to him, but you were a succubus in disguise.

He sat up groaning in protest, “What?” You snickered at his eagerness taking the liberty to grind against his already taunt crotch. You raised a brow at his whine as he threw his head back in lust.

He stopped you for a moment, “Y/N?”

An airy laugh left you, so you leaned in, traced the edge of his outer ear with your tongue like he did early and nibbled on the fleshy lobe. “You made me really worried earlier Yoongi and you refused to speak to me. Do you think you deserve me going easy on you? To be easy and cave to the big, bad, wolf?”

A whine left his lips at your clean words, but they held such filthy, he loved it. He pierced his lips together thin with a sultry exhale. You liked the sound of it so gyrated your hips over his feeling your panties soak up your essence. “Use your words…baby boy.” You breathed roughly into his ear with another swivel of your hips, “You’re going to listen to me baby boy, can you handle that?”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. His nails dug into the sheets feeling his thighs and senses losing it to you, “Yes, I’ll be good.”

You slithered off his thighs, kissing a trail down his neck then to his collarbones as your hands were busy unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. You expanded your fingers letting them graze over his thigh. Just as you wanted, a needy whine left his lips, “Don’t tease me Y/N.”

You smirked against his neck and brought down your hand on his thigh in a swift reminder who was in charge. “What was that baby boy?” He bit his lip holding back a snarky comment, so rewardingly you rubbed his thigh and kissed his lips once before moving away. “That’s what I thought.”

His mind was spinning, yes, he’s pictured you before in similar situations, but this threw everything out the water. The way your hands danced across his skin pleased his inner beast. Just you existing made him embarrassingly submissive, pliable to anything you wanted. Something about how you took control out of his hands and into yours was the biggest turn on. The big, scary guard dog was a puppy on a leash.

The sound of the zipper unraveling overpowered the sound of thunder. You continued to tease him further by reaching into his pants but not into his underwear, just placing your hand over his thick, hard cock. Shamelessly you already imagined him stretching you out. You reached in further towards his balls feeling a bulbous base to his cock. You wanted to ask what it was, but you didn’t want to take him out of the moment. He seethed through his teeth, biting back all his moans. “Don’t hold back baby boy, I want to hear you.” You gave a squeeze before you finally pulled down his slacks and underwear in one go.

His cock slapped against his stomach, the red tip was leaking precum rolling down the shaft. You looked up to Yoongi who was watching you with hooded eyes. You leaned in puckering your lips blowing air on it to elicit another whine from him. It caused a soft moan to leave you, his tight expression turned to a smirk. “I can smell you, Y/N, you’re so wet…just for me.” You didn’t want him to see the blush forming on your face, so you inched closer to him taking his thick cock in your hand over the bulbous end working your way up. His expression scrunched up in pleasure loving the feeling of your hand on him.

You started from the base leaving kitten kisses all the way up to the tip and swirled your tongue around the tip. You trailed your tongue between the slit collecting salty pre-cum. He attempted to thread a hand through your hair, but you held it down then trailed kisses down the side again. “You promised to be good? Do you want me to stop?” His eyes widened feeling your threat was very real he clutched at the sheets again. You encased your lips an inch around the tip, not wanting to waste any more time. Your hand was placed over what wasn’t in your mouth. You slid down slowly then back up to get used to his length. Each time he squirmed, moaning and pleading for you to not stop and how good he felt.

You felt proud that you were able to make him like this…you wanted to be the only one to make him feel like this. You glanced up and his half-lidded eyes were watching you. You dove deeper on him taking him as far back as you could giving yourself a moment, then swallowed. You could hear the sheets rip as a loud moan tore through the air. “Y/N, ah! That feels so good. If you keep doing that I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

You pulled off his cock with a string of saliva and a mix of him on your lips. He picked you off the floor pushing you to lay on the bed and before you could adjust yourself his hips were already cradling in yours. His lips found yours again, but with a renewed passion. This wasn’t how you planned for this to go, but you couldn’t really complain. You liked this side of Yoongi.

He could taste himself in your mouth and his tail wagged behind him overzealously. He was halfway through with marking you. His lip caught your bottom lips in his sharp canine nipping at it and pulling it back. His lips trailed down again your neck again leaving his collage of marks each mark fulfilling him a little more. He licked at your sternum, but your dress stopped him. He grew impatient and brought his hands up to your breast squeezing them once before his hands found the dress’s neckline. With barely any effort he ripped your dress and sat up when he continued to rip it until you were completely exposed. The black lacy bra (he stepped on was finally modeled) and matching panties were on full display. “Yoongi!”

He leaned his head back taking you fully in his hands exploring over your sides and abdomen. “Do you want me to stop baby girl?” Your mewls and moans were caught in your throat as you shook your head feeling embarrassed about how much you wanted—no needed him.

He pulled down the straps and cups of your bra exposing your taunt buds to the cold air of the room. You gasped when his fingers pinched a bud and his tongue lapped at your other. He was intent on tasting everything. You weaved your fingers through his hair to run over his ears gently taking them between your fingers. A shiver ran down his spine and he nipped at your bud, you smiled to yourself, but it was wiped off your face when you cried out in pleasure.

You bucked up to him feeling his raw cock against your clothed core. Your jaw dropped when his thickness slid against your folds, your panties soaked up more of your lust. “Yoongi, please.” You clutched onto anything and everything, you’ve been prolonging the building climax that it felt like you were going to explode. He reached down over your underwear circling two fingers over your slit, but never truly touching your clit. He was soaking up all your sounds as if your mewls and moans were his life source. He needed more.

You groaned desperately and pulled him down crashing your lips onto his hoping he would get the message with your urgency. He did when he put a thumb into the band of your underwear and pulled them off hearing the fabric rip and stretch at his aggressive yanking. Your scent hit him like a cement truck. “Yoongi, please, give me your cock. I can take it, please.” He believed you, you were soaking wet, your essence coated your upper thighs like a highlight.

He rested his head on your chest willing the fog in his mind to dissipate so he could think rationally. He wanted a taste at the source, but he needs to be inside you.

He yanked off his pants and underwear in one go and fished in his underwear drawer for a condom. Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, “You have condoms Yoongi?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “We’re all adults here Y/N.” Before you could question him further he distracted you with kissing while he skillful rolled the condom on.

Your breast was sore from his teeth marks and tight squeezes you felt raw but you liked it. The throb was addicting. He pulled away resting your foreheads together, “You’re so beautiful.” He stole your breath away again kissing you passionately.

Silently he asked looking between you and his cock for permission. “Yes, Yoongi, please!” You bucked up against him one last time before he slid into you inch by inch. He shivered to feel your tight walls swallow him, encourage him to give you more. He pulled out then shallowly thrusting back in until he sat deep within you.

His voice was raspy breathing raggedly, but he reminded you, “Breath Y/N, breath for me love.”

You let out a shaky breath, but in turn, you clenched around him. Just as you imagined, the stretch was painful but pleasured soon followed. He groaned in your ear, “Relax for me.” You nodded against him and when you were ready you bucked against him with a mewl.

He pulled almost all the way out and slowly slid back in. It was like you felt him in your throat, his heat rolled up from your center all the way to your ear tips. His thrust was slow and rhythmic until he couldn’t control himself anymore. He brought one of your legs from his waist hoisting it over his shoulder. He peppered your calf and knee with butterfly kisses, “You’re doing so good for me, you’re going to be so full of my knot.”

You weren’t sure what he meant, you were trying to hang on against his snapping hips.

He flipped your leg over and then you on all fours, stopping his thrusting momentarily. “Yoongi please, don’t stop.” He was so clouded your words went in one ear and out the other. He was focused on the expanse of your back, so beautiful and he wanted to mark it up. His hands found their way up the shaft of your spine and went around to cup your breast groping and fondling with your nipples. He began thrusting into you again mumbling sweet confirmations into your ear. You could barely keep up with this pace his hips were snapping into yours, but you fought to stay up on all fours. “You going to take my knot, hmm? I’m going to come all over this pussy, this pussy is mine and only mine. Mine.”

His word riled him on, even though he wore a condom, he wanted nothing more than to fill you up with his seed and watch you swell. His cock rubbed against that sweet spot every time he pumped himself into you in the new position. With every thrust his bulb inched further in, stretching you out further to mold to him.

You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to last, “Yoongi…I’m.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate, the hand on your breast shimmed down with purpose and rubbed rapidly against your clit. The coil in your stomach kept compressing, tighter and tighter. He whined into a growl feeling you squeeze him for all he was worth and with one last hard thrust you came. Your vision was spent, eyes rolling as your body shook until Yoongi was the only thing supporting you up.

Your velvet walls pulsed in waves around him, it was so good he didn’t want it to stop. He couldn’t stay in this euphoric land when you were milking him for all he was worth. “I’m—I’m cumming. I’m going to cum baby girl.” His thrust became sloppy and you could feel your walls stretching with his cock. You fisted the sheet the stretch was painful. You were still sensitive from cumming, but jumping over the edge couldn’t have been sweeter.

The stretching stopped as he pulled out before the condom busted from the expansion of his cock. He pulled it off and came on your back, the hot, thick ribbons painting your back. You laid flat on your stomach trying to catch your breath. He loomed over you caging you in doing the same catching his breath. That was the hardest and most he’s ever come in his life. His tongue lapped up his cum on your back cleaning you up, while he waited for the knot to settle, but that would be a half hour from now. He wanted to go again, and again, but he didn’t have any more condoms.

He plopped beside you when he considered you clean enough and looped his arm around you to pull you towards him. You felt like you were burning up, but somehow his warmth wasn’t unwelcome. You lazily brought your hand up to his cheek stroking over his sweaty temple, “Wow.”

He laughed leaning in to take your lips again, you could taste him on his tongue, but it wasn’t repulsive. His taste was bitter, but the aftermath kept you coming back for more. You pulled away from him breathless for the countless time.

He brushed hair out of your face, “Y/N…I don’t like you. This was a mistake… I don’t like you.”

The once harmonious, comfortable atmosphere shattered. Thunder cracked through the clouds again, reminding you of the world outside these four walls. You looked him in the eyes searching them for mischief, but there wasn’t any. Panic set in. Was this only one sided? He never told you he liked you back. Your stomach sank to your feet and a sense of nausea sat in. You just threw away years of friendship, for a fuck?

You tried wiggling out of his hold, but his arms circled around your waist tighter. “Yoongi, let me go!”

You flipped onto your other side, but he brought your back into his chest. “It’s a mistake because I don’t like you…I love you.”

Your efforts to runaway halted, you wanted to turn around, but he held you securely.

“Don’t turn around…I’m too embarrassed to say it to your face. I don’t know how else to say it. I’m not one for fancy things or shouting it from the rooftops, but I love you Y/N. I have and always will.”

You shifted around against his will turning in his arm finally seeing the normally pale cheeks turn a rosy red. You stared at his lips then his eyes leaning in, “Yoongi.”

Then a thunderclap sounded within the room. You smacked his bare chest hard, leaving a red handprint. His eyes grew a thousand times yelling out in pain, “Y/N! The fuck! What was that for?”

You laughed faux attempting to sooth it, but truly wanting the sting to set in. “You can’t give me a heart attack like that, I did that so you know how I felt!”

Enough though it hurt, and your handprint felt like it could blister into a scar he wiggled up and pounced on you leaving butterfly kisses all over your face. You giggled like a school girl and when he pulled away catching the way he looked down at you it was full of adoration and love. It made your heart squeeze impossibly.

You repeated after him, “I love you too.”

The kisses went from innocent to passionate again. His knot settled down and he was ready for round two, and so were you. He pulled away from your feverish lips, “We don’t have another condom, we can’t.”

This time around you wiggled your brows, “I have one in my purse.”

This time his eyebrows shot up to his hairline and you giggled, “Shut up and kiss me.”

He laughed, more than happy to oblige, “At your service, baby girl.”

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