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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 5

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Looks like things might be starting to get better between Reader and the rest of the team. However, Rocket can't bring himself to like you just yet, he's not the most trusting.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @colormeyondublue, @theambracer88, and @condy-wants-a-cookie for participating in Fic Improv suggestions!

Word Count: 4,695

You didn't return for several hours, long enough for it to start to get dark out and for the others to start to wonder if you'd come back at all.

Gamora was about to suggest she and Peter go looking for you when you came in the back door. The blood from your face was now gone, but remanent drops still stained the front of your shirt.

You were surprised to find everyone in the kitchen as if they had been waiting up for you.

"Where have you been?" asked Gamora. Her voice didn't sound accusatory, despite her hands on her hips. She sounded oddly worried.

"Taking a walk?" you say with a raised eyebrow. You hadn't honestly expected anyone to be worried with your absence. After all, you bit their friend.

"You were gone for six hours!" Kraglin said incredulously. "Who takes a walk for six hours?"

You shrugged. "Took a nap, too. Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Most of them were looking at you like worried parents, except for Yondu who was leaning against the counter looking at his nails disinterested, Drax who looked mildly disapproving, and Rocket who wasn't even facing you, looking like he didn't give one solitary shit if you came back or not.

"Because you were gone for six hours." Drax repeated. "We thought you died."

"You thought I- No. Look, I just went for a walk- like you 'suggested'-" you looked pointedly at Drax and made air quotes around the word 'suggested,' (your gesture only seemed to confuse him), "took a nap, slept the whiskey off, got cleaned up in the river... Why are you even worr- Oh. Right." You roll your eyes. "Fury would have figured something out if I didn't come back, don't you worry," you say bitterly.

Peter grimaced and stood. "No, that's not- Alright. We got off on a bad foot here. We-" He looked at Rocket to try and include in the contrition, "-feel bad about how things have gone, and we just want to talk."

You look at them a moment, considering. "Okay."

"Okay." Peter looked relieved. "First off, we're sorry that we haven't made the best housemates. We're a dysfunctional bunch of dicks, we get it."

"Some of you more than others." you say, looking at Rocket.

"Yes," Peter agreed, also looking at Rocket. "and we're sorry. We've been in your personal space, and it's obviously been tough for you and we haven't helped that and we understand if you want us to leave. We're sure NOVA will understand."

You stare off into a blank space of wall for awhile. "No," you eventually say with a sigh. "You don't have to leave. It's not entirely your fault things have been tense. I can admit I've been a little... less than welcoming." Your eyes drift to the ceiling and you cross your arms. "I shouldn't be taking my frustration with what Fury did out on you." You finally look at Peter. "And I'm sorry I bit you," you say shyly, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

"It's ok. I've had worse. You didn't even break the skin." Peter said, before wincing, "I'm sorry I broke your nose."

"I don't think it's broken, actually. Hurt like a bitch, but somehow not broken."

Peter looked relieved. "That's good- That's it's not broken, I mean."

"I'm sorry I made you leave your house." Drax spoke up. "Gamora told me that wasn't a good thing to do."

"It's fine." You shrug. "I mean, don't make a habit of it... but no hard feelings." Honestly you knew you needed that walk, both to sort you out, and to try and sober up. Again, you bit a guy. Know who does that? Crazy drunk people. You were lucky one of his friends didn't clock you for it.

Drax beamed and approached you, "Great! Then we are friends!" Your eyes widen as he reaches out and pulls you into a bear hug and actually lifts you off the ground. You let out a wheeze as he squeezed the air from your lungs and you thought you felt a couple vertebra in your spine crack.

When he sets you back down you stumble back a bit, caught off guard. "Sure," you say breathlessly, almost laughing as you regained your bearings. 'Well, at least this one doesn't seem to hold grudges,' you assume.

You were wrong, but of course you didn't actually know Drax that well to know that if you had actually hurt someone he cared about, that he would have chased you across the galaxy to have his revenge. Good thing you hadn't had to figure that out.

"So you're not mad at us?" Mantis said hopefully. She was hugging the bear you gave her, little Groot perched on her shoulder, and your face softened. Her expression was just so... hopeful? Like she really needed to hear that you weren't mad and that she hadn't lost a friend. Innocent. That's the word you were looking for. She just looked too damn innocent, and it melted your heart against your consent.

"No s-" you caught yourself before you could call her 'sweetie.' "No, I'm not mad at you." You mentally whipped yourself. What the fuck? What did you think you were doing almost calling her 'sweetie'? Getting attached or some shit? Some of that whiskey must still be in your system.

She claps her hands excitedly, somehow not dropping the bear in the process, and you can just tell she's going to hug you too. Your eyes flick to Peter in a silent cry for help as she bolts up from her chair, and he just gives you a knowing look and a chuckle as if to say, "You should have guessed that would happen," right before Mantis's body crashes into yours.

You stumble back but don't fall, and awkwardly pat her on the back and letting out half a laugh as Groot crawled on top of your head. "Alright, ok. Settle down now," you say, pulling him from your hair and gently handing him back to Mantis.

Yondu watched in amusement. He was sure he heard you almost call her 'sweetie,' and combined with what he had seen how you treated them so far, and having also been told by Mantis about the bear (because she told everyone) and he saw Groot playing with the toy car that could have only came from you, it only confirmed to him that you seemed to have a soft spot for her and the twig.

"Well if everyone's apologizing, where's mine?" Rocket asked, standing defiantly on the table with his arms crossed.

Kraglin looked at him incredulously. "For what?"

"She tossed me out the door like a rag doll yesterday!" Rocket threw his hands in the air, as if Kraglin was missing something very obvious.

You huffed a laugh out your nose. "No. Absolutely not. For one, I'm not sorry, and secondly, did you really think I'd forget that you tried to poison me earlier today?"

Rocket got several looks for that, ranging from surprise to disapproval. Even Yondu raised an eyebrow.

"Rocket!" Gamora and Drax said in unison.

Rocket put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. "I wasn't actually trying to poison you! You wouldn't have died or nuttin!"

Peter then explained the situation from earlier that day with the xanti-berries to the others and how Rocket had tried to convince you to eat them, which earned more disapproving looks directed towards Rocket. It was well known among most of them what they did to the Terran digestion. Yondu and Kraglin made that unfortunate discovery early on when they fed them to Peter as a boy, a mistake you don't exactly make twice and a memory Kraglin wished he could have scrubbed from his mind with the same solvents he had been tasked with cleaning Yondu's M-ship bathroom with after said mistake. The rest of the team found out in a much, much cleaner way, having simply been told by Peter when offered some that Terrans couldn't eat them.

Yondu finally spoke up. "If anyone here actually needs to apologize I think it's Rocket."

Rocket looked at him in betrayal, his expression saying, 'Man, I thought we were cool!?' His tail twitched in annoyance. Yondu was supposed to be on his side, not yours,

"Don't give me that look," Yondu said. "Ya know ya've spent nearly all yer time here being a dick, not to mention its yer fault we're here in the first place."

Rocket rolled his eyes and hopped off the table with a, "Whatever losers." and walked out of the room, flipping the bird as he went.

"Rocket!" Gamora called out angrily, but Peter put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Let him go."

After a beat you begin awkwardly edging yourself out of the room as well, saying, "Well, this was awkward. Glad we made up. I'm gonna go wash up for bed. Bye."

They didn't stop you. You had reached an understanding, that would have to do for now. Peter and Gamora knew you all wouldn't just become best friends after one heart-to-heart. At the moment reaching the knowledge of 'Your host doesn't actually wish to burn you all alive' would have to do.

***

You honestly expected the next day to be just as tense, but you were pleasantly surprised. You actually managed to strike up a decent, albeit short, conversation with Peter and Gamora at breakfast.

When you finished you excused yourself to go tend to the garden, but nothing could have prepared you for what you found outside.

You exited the back door, and just before you could put in your earbuds you heard the sounds of bickering. Confused and mildly irritated at the thought of needing to break up yet another fight, you turn your head to the left, where the noise was coming from.

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised. You rubbed your eyes just to make sure you weren't seeing things.

Different emotions overtook you. Confusion. Shock. Disbelief. Then, finally, humor.

Your mouth twitched upwards of its own volition, and your stomach muscles twitched as a huff air forced its way through your nose.

Were you honestly seeing... what you thought you were seeing?

A few meters ahead of you laid Kraglin and Rocket, struggling against what appeared to be your garden hose. What was threatening to pull laughter from your belly, however, was the position they had somehow managed to get themselves into.

You'll never know how they did it, but one of Kraglin's legs was stuck in a sitting position, held in place by the hose wrapped around his thigh. He had one arm pinned behind his back, and another tied to his head with said hose.

That might have done it by itself, but that wasn't all. Rocket was tangled as well, but it was where he was tangled that made you lose your composure.

Rocket's limbs also pinned in crazy directions, but he wasn't tangled separately from Kraglin, no. Rocket was more or less strapped to Kraglin's back, but in a way that his head had nowhere to go but... well... Kraglin's butt.

You attempted to walk towards them, knowing you should probably help them, but once you opened your mouth about halfway there you knew there was no way to hold back your laughter, though you did try.

"What- Ha-How-" You pause briefly to attempt to hold in your giggles before trying again. "How did you-?" More giggling. "How did you-" Even more giggles, "manage that?" You covered your mouth, unable to stop the torrent of giggles that only got worse once they turned their heads in shock and embarrassment to face you. "You- You? What?" You could barely string words together now.

"Oh come now! It's not funny!" Kraglin pouted. Rocket just growled in annoyance.

"I-I'm sorry!" you say, not looking very sorry at all with the way mirthful tears wet your waterline and how you held your stomach from laughing so hard.

Then Rocket threatened to bite Kraglin's ass if he didn't figure out a way to untangle them, and Kraglin threatened to fart on him if he so much as thought of biting him.

That made you completely lose it. You dropped to your knees and laughed harder than you had in a very long time, unable to string anything longer than a mirthful "I'm sorry!" together to save your own life, let alone help untangle them.

Peter and Gamora heard your loud laughter from inside the kitchen, and having not heard anything more than a sarcastic half-laugh from you the entire time they'd been here, wanted to see what had been able to make you lose it like that.

They came outside to see you on your knees in the throws of a laughing fit almost a couple meters from where Kraglin and Rocket lay tangled together.

The scene made them laugh as well. Well, Peter laughed. Gamora was able to keep it to a wide grin and a couple escaped giggles as she mercifully walked over to help untie the pair, with Peter's giggly attempts to help as well, that were actually more of a hinderance than helpful.

At one point you thought you had gotten it together enough to try and help them, but you didn't make it all the way before your laughing fit had you doubled over again. You losing it again only made Peter laugh harder, and Gamora only grinned and shook her head as she worked at trying to free Kraglin's arm from his head, having already managed to free his leg from its garden-hose-y prison.

"Ow! Ow! Fuck!" You exclaim, still laughing. "I think I pulled something!"

Peter looked at you then turned to Kraglin & Rocket and laughed more, pointing, "You made her laugh so hard she pulled a muscle! AHAHA!"

By this point Gamora had (more or less single-handedly) managed to free Rocket from Kraglin and Kraglin was free enough to untangle himself the rest of the way.

Rocket glared at you angrily, "I'll teach you to laugh at me!" He looked like he was about to lunge at you when Gamora scolded out a warning, "Rocket." and he then just muttered angrily and made his way back inside the house.

You had gotten your laughter in to more manageable giggles, until you looked up to see Kraglin had just finished untangling himself and was walking your way before your burst into laughter again. "AHA-Ow! Ow! Haha! I'm sorry- Haha-ow! I'm sorry!" you manage to say as Kraglin pouted and continued on towards the door, his pride a bit bruised. You thought you had pulled something in your ribs, and it made laughing too hard a little sore, but you honestly couldn't help it.

You worked on catching your breath and Peter asked, giggling, "How did they even do that?"

You took deep breaths and answered, "I have no idea." You turned your head towards Kraglin walking away and started laughing again, needing to turn away because it hurt to laugh. Peter and Gamora shook their heads, grinning.

This was definitely better than you being cranky and avoiding them all the time, now if only it would last.

You stated you needed to tend the garden and they took the hint to leave you so you could gather yourself.

Peter couldn't help but think that if you pulled a muscle from laughing, it must mean you didn't do it nearly enough, and he made a mental note to try and fix that while they were there.

***

You headed to the work shed after tending your garden, intent to unclamp and sand down the pieces of the bed you were making for Rocket.

You had almost considered scrapping the project after the whole "attempted poison" incident, but you were in a good mood, and still thought it might quell his whining, so you decided you might as well finish it.

Once everything was sanded to a nice finish you decided you might as well stain it too, and add a coat of varnish. Might as well do a complete job while you were at it.

Or maybe you were stalling.

Either way, you decided you needed to make a run into town. It had been awhile since you checked the mail anyhow.

You locked the shed back up and went inside to get ready to leave.

Before you were about to go, you caught Peter in the hall and told him you were leaving, and as a courtesy asked him if he knew if there might be anything anyone might need from town.

He thought for a bit, not really able to think of anything, one reason being that he didn't know what Terran shops carried anymore that his friends would recognize, let alone need, but then an idea struck. "Hey, do they still make Oreos? If you don't mind- I always kinda wanted to show the others what they were like. They were one of my favorites as a kid."

You smile. Of all the things he could have asked for, and this grown man wanted oreos to share with his friends. It was sweet. "I'll see what I can do," you say, still smiling as you made your way out the door.

***

For the life of him, Rocket couldn't understand why Groot seemed to like it here.

It was boring. Despite all this space, he couldn't blow up anything, and he had been forbidden by the others to try. Something about Terran shit being "extra flammable" or something. Not like he had anything that could make a decent boom if he tried, it had all been confiscated by SHIELD, the bastards. They'd even searched his "back pocket."

To be fair, his reputation had preceded him and they did find some small blast charges and a detonator...

Normally he'd use his resources, pull from the environment around him, but you only had primitive Terran shit that wasn't good for anything fun.

It was like he was being punished, stuck on this Terran prison. Normally he'd just escape a prison, like he had the last 23 he had been in, but this time apparently it was 'safer' to stay in the prison than to leave. As if he even could leave without a ship...

What had he done to deserve this punishment?

Sure, maybe he had insulted their last client... and maybe he had stolen their shit... but they deserved it for being so damn uptight and upitty. Everyone else was thinking it, he was just the only one brave enough to put them in their place!

And look where it got him. Stuck here. In the middle of nowhere, on a primitive hunk of rock floating in the middle of nowhere, with nothing fun to do or see, forced to sleep in a damn crib like an infant. He almost wished Peter hadn't told him what it was that first night. He originally just thought it was a weird fancy little bed, until Peter peeked in and quietly chuckled a comment about, "Aww! Cute! You get to sleep in a crib like a little baby!" Which then prompted him to complain to the SHIELD woman about the sleeping arrangement, but he only got a shrug from her in response as she said stuff about being "crunched for time" and it was "the perfect size" while his friends laughed at him.

And then there was you. As far as he was concerned you were just as bad as their last client. Stick up your ass, skulking around and tossing him out for fighting like you owned the place...

Well, he supposed you did own the place... bit still! Who did you think you were?

Anyone dumber might answer, 'the person who was nice enough to take in eight strangers to keep them safe,' but he knew better. No one was that good. You were either getting paid a shit-tonne to do this, or you had sinister intentions, and any trace of caring was just an act. Maybe both, who was he to say?

"I am Groot?"

Rocket was shaken from his thoughts by Groot's question.

"What?" asked Rocket.

"I am Groot?" he asked again.

"Wha- No. There's no monsters in the attic- who told you that? We would have heard them!" he then quickly added, "Monsters don't exist anyway!"

"I am Groot."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Ohhh- Of course she would." He could feel his irritation rising. Who the fuck did you think you were, scaring the little guy like that? He looked at Groot and told him you were just being a dick, and he was going to show Groot himself that you were a liar.

"I am Groot!"

Rocket rolled eyes again. "So what if it's locked? I've got my-" He then remembered that his lock-picking set had also been confiscated. Dammit! "I bet there's a key somewhere!"

"I am Groot!"

"We won't get in trouble if you keep quiet about it!" Rocket said irritably. Groot simply crossed his arms in response, a displeased expression on his face.

He placed Groot on his shoulder, and they made their way silently from their room, around the landing, and peered down the stairs before making their way over to open your door. He knew the others wouldn't approve of what he was doing, and he was grateful that he and Groot seemed to be the only ones upstairs at the moment. Well, that was assuming that no one was behind the closed doors of the other two rooms and they wouldn't find Mantis sitting in the room you shared with her.

The room was empty. Good. He wouldn't have to hear anyone complain about what he was doing, although he was certain if Mantis had been in there he could have played it off as Groot wanting to play more hide-n-seek.

Rocket knew you had left the house, otherwise he might not be attempting to do what he was, not looking forward to you possibly tossing him back outside for another 'walk,' or more or less a glorified time out like he was a child. Bad enough he had to sleep in the crib...

However, he knew he should probably be quick about it. You had already been gone nearly a couple hours, and while he didn't know how far away the place you were going was, he knew he should just assume you'd be back any minute.

He paused to listen, he had good enough hearing that he could hear just about any regular movement in the house if he was listening for it. After not hearing anything that sounded like someone getting ready to come up the stairs he got to work.

As quietly and as quickly as he could, he made his way around the room. He had a decent idea of which bed belonged to Mantis and so he didn't bother looking over there.

He checked in your nightstand drawers. Nothing. Just a journal he considered taking a peek at, but decided against it due to being crunched for time.

He checked though your dresser drawers, and aside from one large garment that appeared like a comfy jumpsuit but looked like someone skinned some weird black and white spotted mammal, found nothing but your clothes and under-things.

He finally got around to checking the desk. There was nothing on top save for some pens, a notepad, and what Terrans excused for a computer- a 'lap top' or whatever they called it. He pulled out the bottom drawer from the set of three on the right side, but it was only a bunch of file folders, again, none of which he could be bothered to fully read, only gathering cursory glances of boring titles with stuff like "Insurance," "Deed," and "Obituary," whatever that was.

He quickly abandoned that drawer and moved to the next one up. Still nothing. Just pencils and a book of drawings he quickly flipped through before placing back in the drawer, unwilling to give you even the imaginary satisfaction of even mentally saying they weren't half bad. He gave Groot an unimpressed look when he expressed interest in the pictures.

He reached the top drawer and almost wrote it off as a loss of pens, paperclips, sticky notes and other junk, until he just noticed a glint of metal from under one of the yellow pads of paper.

Jackpot.

He grabbed the key and grinned at Groot before turning towards the attic door.

But then he heard it. The front door opened.

Maybe someone's just going outside? Maybe he still had time?

Nope, the footsteps were coming in, not leaving.

Crap. You were home.

He knew it would only be bad news if he got caught, so he quickly placed the key back in the drawer, saying, "Another time, buddy," to Groot and made his way to peek out the door and make sure he wouldn't be seen exiting your room.

He could just see down the stairs that you were standing in the hall holding a paper bag, and you waved for someone's attention in the sitting room. Peter came and he followed you into the kitchen.

This was his chance, he quickly exited your room, quietly closed the door behind him, and bolted as quietly as possible toward the room he shared with Groot and Drax. It was times like these he was more than glad to be one of the smallest and lightest of the bunch.

***

You arrived home and brought Peter into the kitchen to show that you had indeed found him some Oreos, and a twin sleeve at that!

His eyes lit up when you removed them from the bag. "You got them!" he exclaimed as he accepted the package from you.

You lightly chuckled as he called for his friends to join him in the kitchen.

Feeling it would be awkward for you if he decided to excitedly declare that you bought them biscuits, you excused yourself before the others could arrive, saying that you had some other things to put away in your car and you'd be back when he seemed almost disappointed that you were running away from being social again.

You passed by Kraglin and Yondu on your way back towards the front door, and you were unable to stop yourself from giggling as you laid eyes on Kraglin. You covered your mouth, but of course they noticed.

"What was that about?" Yondu asked Kraglin in confusion, looking back at you as you exited the front door.

Kraglin only pouted and said, "Please don't ask, sir."

***

Rocket answered Peter's call along with everyone else, and was a little surprised to hear that you had picked up some Terran cookies at Peter's request. He ate some, because hey- free food, but he wasn't going to fall for your sugary bribery, which he was sure this was. He certainly doubted you did it to be nice. Hell, if you were nice you would have helped him and Kraglin with getting untangled instead of laughing so hard you couldn't stand up.

Something caught his eye out the window from where he sat on the counter, and he directed his attention to what he realized was you, walking toward that shed he kept hearing loud noses from but couldn't get into because you kept it locked. The windows didn't open either, he tried, nor could he make anything out when he tried to look through them due to the dark interior.

But there was one thing he could see clearly now as you made your way to the shed.

You were carrying chains.

His eyes narrowed as he nibbled on his treat. He knew there was something off about you. What were you doing in that shed? Were those chains meant for him and his friends? To chain up the next person who pissed you off?

He knew the others wouldn't believe him. Until he could prove it to the others that you were bad news, he decided to keep his mouth shut for now.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #peter quill #kraglin obfonteri #rocket racoon and groot #rocket raccoon #star lord #yondu udonta #fluff #room mates #making up

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kimnjss · 4 years

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desperate housewife | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: husband!jungkook, housewife au, established relationship ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: soft angry guk, car sex, nipple play, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)… this was lowkey kind softcore, ngl. ⇢ summary: bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby... jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime. ⇢ A/N: this was heavily influenced by desperate housewives, okay. ive been binging it during quarantine nd kind of spit this out lmao. also!! want to apologize if this feels all over the place, kept on stopping nd starting again... so yeah!

The day your husband proposed, he gave you his word that you'd never have to lift a finger once you were married to him. His faith in his career and talents fueling his proclamation. You would've said yes even without it, but it was nice how badly he wanted to treat you like a princess.

You and Jungkook had been together for two years before he decided to get down on one knee. He made it known that he thought you were the one from the beginning and you had always thought, it was soon to tell- but he was right.

Your agreement was no short of immediate, wedding date set for an exact year after that day and you couldn't wait. Jungkook was oddly helpful with the planning and organization, way more than you'd expect a husband to be, but he was genuinely interested.

With his help, you two pulled off a gorgeous ceremony. His family and yours filling the place, watching as you agreed to become one with this man. It was all you wanted. Becoming Mrs. Jeon Jungkook was the best day of your life. Three days after your honeymoon in Malta, Jungkook was urging you to quit your job.

You did.

Jungkook was serious about keeping his word, didn't plan for you to lift a finger at all. A maid was hired to do the cleaning, chef to do the cooking, a yard boy to tend to your pool and pretty garden. You even had a personal driver to drive the car he had purchased for you.

Not once did you think of complaining. It was nice. Not having to worry about this or that or the other thing. Having everything done for you really freed up time for you to do the things that you really liked to do. The only problem was, you've been busy working your whole life you never really had the chance to figure out exactly what that was.

And it wasn't like you could hang out with the husband you loved so much, he hardly had time to cut his hair, let alone hang out with you. So you spent your days at home, chatting with the members of your staff and counting down to the days that Jungkook was able to come home.

It wasn't until you caught yourself in a heated argument with the yard boy about the exact inch length of your front lawn did the realization hit you. You needed a hobby. Shopping, getting your hair and nails done, that wasn't going to cut it. You needed something that was just for you.

You just needed to figure out what that was.

Sat on the couch with your feet propped on an ottoman, you flipped through your catalog. Sulin, the maid, stood across from you, wiping the windows down with glass cleaner. The sound of a car door slam had your fingers stilling, your body perking as your attention was brought to the large window in your living room.

“Mr. Jeon is home,” Sulin informed you, but you were already standing; all but running out the front door. Jungkook was waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off, hands clutching his way too large suitcase. “Baby!” You squealed, not being able to contain yourself as you leaped for him.

Your husband and his ever so impressive reflexes were catching you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned up for a starved kiss. His hands were properly placed on your sculpted bottom, slowly inching up to grip the flesh. A squeal flew from your lips as you pulled back, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Do you really think the Jefferson's want an eye full of you groping your wife on the front lawn?” You questioned with a raised brow. Jungkook shrugged his strong shoulders, tilting his head up to reach for your lips again.

“The Jefferson's have been married 30 years, have six kids, I think they know a thing or two about groping.” You pushed the thought of your ancient neighbors going at it, instead deciding to concentrate on the cute dimples indenting your husband's cheeks as he flashed a boyish grin. Not only was this man blessed with deadly good looks, but he also had the heart and spirit of a young child. Things never got boring with him around.

Your hands cradled his face, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips to his again. “I've missed you so much.” Your words are barely comprehensible, considering your mouth is smushed against his. Somehow, he understands you totally, sharing your sentiment with a wide grin.

His hands finding your ass again, Jungkook holds you to him as he begins taking long steps toward your house. You could feel his length against your thigh with each step he took and you knew exactly what you were in for once you reached the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen. Hell, he might even give up on the front porch and do it there.

Yeah, things never got boring with Jungkook around.

An entire week had passed since Jungkook came back home. A whole week filled with laughter, games, impromptu trips, spontaneous dates. A full week of fun with the man of your dreams. Every waking moment was spent together, genuinely enjoying each other that you forgot he would be leaving come Sunday.

This is why you wore a permanent scowl on your face as you neatly folded his clothes, taking on the task to pack his suitcase. Sulin had been doing it when you entered the bedroom, but for some odd reason, you felt like you wanted to. She was more than happy to pass the task on to you, moving to get dinner started.

Since it was Jungkook's last day in the house, Sulin had suggested she made all of his favorite foods for dinner tonight. No protests on your husband's side, of course, and you figured your waistline could suffer if it meant witnessing that huge bunny smile that took over his features.

Warm arms wrapped around your waist, chiseled chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Jungkook pulled you into his embrace, taking in the sweet smell of the perfume you prayed whenever you got out the shower. “How's my princess doing?” His tone was soft and caring.

Jungkook knew that you were upset that he was leaving. But he also knew that you weren't upset with him. Couldn't be upset with him because you knew what you were in for from the beginning. It just annoyed you that his job always cut into the time that the two of you got to spend together. He was hardly ever home, never really unpacked when he was home because it was just a matter of time until he was leaving again.

It was like your house was just a rest stop and that annoyed you, passionately. You didn't want to make him feel bad, though. You knew he was trying his best; could tell with how he fought sleep when he was back just so he could spend time with you. It was hard on him too, so there was no reason to make a stink out of it.

You pulled his suitcase closed, zipping it before turning in his arms. Your scowl had morphed into a pout, arms wrapping around his neck. Lifting up on your tiptoes, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm okay. What time is your flight?” You wanted to know just how much time you had left with him.

“Javier will pick me up right after dinner.” Guess you only had a few more hours left with him then. A sigh slipped from his lips, his hands cupping your face and thumb brushing over your cheek. “I won't be gone long this time. Just a week or two and then I have a month off,” He offered up with a grin and you matched it, nodding your head.

“Can we visit that resort when you get back, then?” You looked up at him hopeful, his head was nodding not even giving a moment to think of the request. “Whatever you want. Just put it on the schedule. A whole month, I'm all yours.”

It was like time was on a treadmill whenever you were with him. Before you knew it, dinner was being served and the two of you sat across each other at your way too big dining table. “You know,” He was speaking after some time had passed without either of you saying a word.

You were playing with your food, eating in slow motion as if that would keep time from moving so he wouldn't have to leave just yet. Head lifting at the sound of his words, you tilted your head to the side. “Sammie Fields and a couple of her girlfriends all take dance lessons at the gym across town.”

Face contorted, you tried to figure out why he was offering up this information all of a sudden. “Alright, you got me. Why are you telling me this?” You pushed out a laugh, hoping not to sound too harsh. You just wanted to enjoy your silent dinner before he was being whisked away.

“Maybe you should join them sometime?”

“Is this your way of telling me that I need to start working out? Believe it or not, Jeon Jungkook I'm in-” He was quick to cut you off, quick denying shakes of his hands as he leaned toward you. “No! No, it's nothing like that. I just... you said that you were bored,” Your cheeks darkened, had forgotten that you had shared that with him while catching him up on everything that had been happening while he was gone.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and he shook his head. “I don't really get along with Sammie and her friends. Don't think they'd really care for me tagging along.” It was no secret that the girls on the block weren't all too fond of you. You weren't sure why, but they didn't really seem interested in being your friend – had their little clique made before you even moved in.

And they weren't taking any newbies anytime soon.

“Ugh, I wish you could just come with me. I hate that you're stuck in the house bored all the time.” It had been suggested and shut down when you two first got married. Jungkook didn't really want to travel without you with your marriage so new, so he came up with the idea that you just came along with him.

His manager was quick to veto his proposal, deeming you an unnecessary distraction – the asshole. “I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You pushed a smile onto your face, but he didn't look convinced; cut into his pork with a quizzical look on his face. His teeth worried his lower lip and you could almost literally see the wheels turning in his head.

“Or! You know what, I could take up tennis?” You suggested, with a grin. “Tennis? Since when were you into tennis?” A shrug of your shoulder was sent in his direction as you reached forward to grasp your wine glass, bringing it to your lips. “It's never too late to learn,” He nodded.

“Are you sure you're going to like it? I mean... not to discourage you, but baby, I've not even seen you pick up a ball. Well, besides...” From the smirk on his face, you knew exactly what he was alluding to. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that tried to peek through.

“It could be fun,”

You could tell that he was happier now, at ease knowing that you weren't just going to sit around watching grass grow as you waited for him to come back. “Alright, then! I'll get you the best trainer there is. Let me just...” His hand reached for his phone on the table, your hand quick to stop him.

“You don't have to do that, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of good enough trainers at the gym. Cheaper too.” Although you loved being pampered and spoiled by him, you didn't marry him because he was stinking rich.

You married him because you were madly, deeply, truly in love with him- so there was no need for him to hire 'the best' anything for your new hobby.

“I guess if you're sure.”

“I'm sure. I'll head to the gym tomorrow and meet someone,” He nodded, attention being drawn back to the meal in front of him. Finally being able to enjoy his favorite food without worry creasing his brows.

Two days after Jungkook had left, you were dragging yourself out of bed and heading straight to the gym. You were excited, always had liked tennis and the whole idea of it; you figured it would be fun to actually play it.

Finding a trainer was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk, she was leading you down a long corridor into a sectioned off area of the gym. More elaborate work out machines were back here, a large TV and a sauna.

“Mr. Kim.” She called to the man running on the treadmill. A fitting long-sleeved top hugged his muscles, loose shorts bouncing with each movement of his strong legs. The woman called out to him once more before he was pulling the headphone from his ear, pressing a few buttons on the machine to slow his steps into a walk.

“What's up?” He replied, a bit out of breath.

“This is Mrs. Jeon,” She introduced you formerly, despite how you insisted she uses your first name. The man cocked a brow, sparing a sideways glance in your direction. Undeniably handsome, a face appears to be carefully structured by the gods. A strong jaw, pink full lips, cheekbones, nose a little large but fitting for his handsome face, dark intense eyes guarded by long eyelashes. Even his eyebrows were pretty, what the fuck?

The man pushed a long finger against the machine in front of him, stopping it completely. “She's in looking for a tennis trainer. I figured you would be fit for it.” He was hopping off of the machine, turning to face the two of you fully.

“Have you ever played before?” His words were directed to you, but you were distracted by the deepness of his voice. Did he really sound like that... all the time? How intimidating. His head tilted, awaiting your answer.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, desperately trying to rake your brain from what he had just said. “Oh!” You spoke a little too loudly. “Not really, no. I've just always wanted to...” The intense way he was staring at you had your sentence trailing off.

He didn't speak, eyes scanning over you carefully; making you feel small. Even the girl that brought you here sensed the odd tension, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. His tongue pushed out to lick his dry lips, a smirk taking over his features as he dragged his gaze back up to your eyes. What you would give to know what was going through his mind just then.

“It'd be my pleasure,” His voice velvety sweet with some promised laced in his words. You grinned, taking hold of the hand that he had extended out to you. “I'm Taehyung.” He introduced himself with a small smile.

Taehyung nodded at the sound of your name, going to release your hand from his grasp just as the piece of jewelry wrapped around your fourth finger caught his attention. Mindlessly, his fingers brushed it, his eyes finding yours once again.

There was something going on in his mind, you knew it. Could tell by the furrow of his brow and the smirk on his face. You just couldn't decipher what it was. His hand was dropping yours, slipping into the pocket of his pants.

“Lynn will set you up with my schedule. See you soon, Yn.” Taehyung flashed that teasing smile before tucking his earphone back in and climbing back onto the machine. Lynn led you out the same way you first came, stopping at the front desk to schedule you.

No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth, you couldn't shake the thought of Taehyung from your mind. It was weird. Sure, you've been swooned by attractive guys before, you were married; not blind. But this was different, he was different.

You didn't know what it was and you were scared to find out. There was no point in either way. These were just tennis lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. You were married so that was it. Halfway home, you wondered if you should turn around and demand a different trainer. Decided against it, surely nothing will happen..., right?

Two weeks had passed since Taehyung had become your personal trainer. It was fun, learning the sport and getting to know the mysterious man that paid so much attention to your skills. He had this set narrative of what you were capable of and never accepted less, always pushing you and oddly you liked it.

Your game was getting better as the days rolled by. Time no longer standing still with this new hobby of yours. You two met every day at 3 o'clock, most lessons lasting for an hour... maybe two if he wasn't busy, three if he got hungry in the middle. It was fun and you were quickly feeling as though you could think of the man as a friend.

The tension that surrounded you two when the first meeting had died down. You weren't interested, no matter how many smirks he threw in your direction. Jungkook was the love of your life and messing that up was at the bottom of your list. It wasn't even on your list. Taehyung got the hint without you having to spell it out for him. You appreciated that.

A gentle hand on the small of your back stilled your movements, your head turning to face the handsome man standing behind you. “You need to straighten your back,” His deep voice instructed and you nodded your head, following his orders.

He smiled, hand leaving your back to grasp your elbow- the other hand reaching for your wrist. “Tuck your core in when you swing, gives you more power.” The hand on his elbow dropped, splayed fingers landing over your belly button. You brought your arms back, tucking your core in and going for the swing.

You could feel the difference. “Oh! I didn't think it would-”

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Your sentence was being interrupted by the booming voice of your husband. His face twisted with anger as he approached the two of you. “Get your hands off my wife!” He shouted, the words making Taehyung release you, jumping back a few steps.

“Jungkook? You're back early.” It was the only thing you could muster in your shock. Never had you seen him this angry before. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you behind him as he stood square in front of Taehyung.

He sized him up, jaw clenched and fists balled. “Who do you think you are? Touching her like that?” Despite having the big muscle pig that was your husband in his face, Taehyung didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Jungkook, bored.

Sensing this could take a turn for the worse, you decided to step in. “Jungkook, baby. Relax. He's my trainer!” Jungkook only half-listened to your words, squaring his chest as he stepped closer to Taehyung.

“Does your trainer know that you're happily married?” His words were delivered through clenched teeth to the man standing in front of him. Taehyung was rolling his eyes, hands patting at your husband's shoulders.

“I suggest you calm down there, buddy. I can have you kicked out and your wife banned with a snap of my fingers.” He wouldn't do that right? Ban you? You two were friends, he was just saying that?

You didn't want to be the one to call his bluff. Hands finding Jungkook's elbow, you tugged him toward you. “Let's just go, baby.” He scoffed, tugging his hand from your grasp before turning and passing you, stomping up the hill.

You quickly followed behind him, legs moving quickly in fear he might leave without you. He had stopped in front of his car, hands in his pocket. You landed a soothing hand to his back. “Baby, I promise you. Nothing like that was happening. He was just helping me with my form!”

His hand pulled out from his pocket, your big, expensive wedding ring between his fingers. “Why aren't you wearing your ring?”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks darkening, embarrassed as if you had been caught. But you hadn't! You just knew what he was thinking and how all of this looked. You reached your hand forward, taking the jewelry from his hand. “I only take it off for training, I didn't want it to fly off.” You tell him, and it's the truth.

He doesn't believe you, rolling his eyes right in your face. “Yeah, fucking right and you just so happened to get paired with the young attractive trainer, rather than someone who is actually qualified.”

“It's not like that! Don't you trust me?” Wedding ring secured back on your fingers, you reached up to cup his face in your hands. You offered a soft smile up at him, thumbs stroking his clenched jaw. “I would never do something like that, baby.”

Scowl not falling, but an arm wrapping around your waist; you could tell he was softening. “It's not you, I don't trust.” He grumbled and you nodded in understanding, standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I know, baby. You'd be the first to know if he tried anything,” Your words are murmured against his lips. The grasp he holds on your waist tightening as he pulls your body tighter against his. You feel his grasp dropping from your hips to your thighs until he's lifting your body off of the ground; easily wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back is being pushed against the cool exterior of his car, his body pressed tight against yours as his kiss gains intensity. His mouth desperately searching yours as if trying to imprint himself on you. His hand slid underneath the bottom of your tank top, smirking at the realization of your lack of bra.

Jungkook was breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more of him. Dark eyes stared into yours, heavy breaths leaving his lips as his thumb caresses your hardening nipple. “I can't fucking believe you.” He snarled, fingers pinching at your nipple; making you yelp.

He didn't even allow you a moment to reply, lips crashing against yours with much greed, hunger as his hips pushed up into yours. You could feel how hard he was even through the fabric of his jeans and you wondered if he'd fuck you right here... against his car where anyone could walk by and see you.

The thought had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs. You leaned into his kiss, returning everything that he was giving you. Jungkook's kisses were everything he was; sweet, passionate, determined, horny. His hands dropped from your body, grasping the behind you as his tongue pushed further into your mouth.

With unbelievable swiftness, Jungkook was pulling the car door open, lifting your body off of the car and laying you across the back seat. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss to climb onto you, trapping your body between his strong thighs.

You slid your hands up the front of his shirt, the rapid beating of his heart surprising you. He still wore that scowl on his face and you frowned. “I love you, Kookie. You know that, right?” You offered a sweet smile up at him, which he only nodded to. His hands hastily pulled your shirt up and over your head.

His face was buried in your neck, attacking your slightly sweaty skin with his lips and teeth. Big hands grasped your breasts, teasing them. Hearing the whimpers, the moans that his touches caused did wonders for Jungkook's ego. He loved knowing that he was the only one that could get you like this, see you like this. Fuck that Taehyung guy, you were his and he was more than willing to prove it to you.

He couldn't help the primal instinct to cover your body in his marking to make it completely and utterly clear that you belonged to him. Quickly, his hands were dropping and rounding your body to grasp your ass; using his grip to pull your body against his. At that exact moment, he was sinking his teeth into the skin just above your collarbone, sucking harshly on the spot right after.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” He loved the sound of your sweet moans. Loved it even more that it was his name falling from those pretty lips. Jungkook rolled his hips forward, grinding his hard and growing erection against your scarcely covered pussy. Such a tiny useless skirt, did you really think he'd have nothing to say about you prancing around in this?

Your shaky hands found the dark curls of his hair, tugging at the roots as his lips dragged their way down your chest. You were already so needy for him, back arching in an attempt to push your breasts closer to his lips, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. A breath of relief fell from your lips as his mouth finally wrapped around one of your hardened buds, wet tongue drawing circles around it, pulling desperate moans from your lips.

He was pulling back with a hiss, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tit, making you yelp. His gentle tongue soothed the skin, dark eyes peaking up to admire your lust-filled, half-lidded eyes. A gentle kiss pressed against the marked skin, “You're so pretty like this.” He grinned.

Jungkook reached his hand down to still the grind of your hips that had started without your knowledge, he pinned you against the leather seats and you whimpered. “What is it that you want, baby?” Fuck, his voice. It wasn't often that Jungkook took on a dominant role, sort of liked to go with the flow. But right now, the way he was looking at you, handling you, hand an unfamiliar twist building in your stomach.

There was no way you'd be able to keep your composure if he kept on like this. “I need you, Kookie. I need to feel you.” Never did you think he'd be down for car sex, but you weren't opposed to the idea; not one bit. With that, though, you knew that you had to be quick; there was no telling who could come rushing down the hill. Which meant foreplay wasn't really in the cards for you two right now.

Jungkook was quick with leaning back on his knees, tugging at the buckle of his belt until it came undone. He only pushed his jeans down enough to pull his cock out. No matter how many times you saw it, you always seemed to find yourself mesmerized by Jungkook's cock.

It was no surprise that it'd be long, Jungkook was a big guy and it was only fitting that he'd have a big dick. Rested nicely just inches below his belly button. It was thick too, pretty veins wrapping around the length and a pink tip that had your mouth watering and pussy clenching.

Jungkook watched you expectantly, a subtle smirk on his lips. He had definitely caught you ogling. It took you a moment to figure out why he was looking at you, but you were quick to catch on, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your tiny skirt. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, eyes fixed on the way your panties clung to your damp lips. You felt your cheeks darkening.

He never had to do much to get you like this. A giggle left your lips, “You're the only one that makes me like this.” You reminded, hands reaching up to reach for his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours. The smile that took over his features didn't go unnoticed. His hand was fitting itself between your legs, long fingers rubbing at your folds gently.

Freehand lining the thickness of his head up with your center, and sliding all the way in with one powerful thrust. You let out a loud cry, caught off guard although you expected the intrusion. Gentle lips pressed wet kisses against your skin, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his large size.

It didn't take long for you to get used to him being this deep inside you. Yeah, he's been gone for weeks, but your body had grown accustomed to him, always recognizing his return. Just a single roll of your hips was enough to get him to fuck forward, the breath he had been holding being let out.

He was quickly losing himself in you, forgetting if he had ever been mad in the first place. It was like he wanted to make sure you felt every last inch of him. Gradually, he was speeding up the movements of his hips, tickling the sweet spots buried deep inside of you before full-blown pounding against them.

Each thrust hit right where you needed him to, high, needy moans fell from your lips. Calls of his name as your nails dug into his back. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward your release. Jungkook's hand grasped tightly on your thigh, lifting your leg to reach deeper inside of you. He was panting, sending you praise, reminding you that you were his.

Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment. Not the fact that you could be caught at any moment, the uncomfortable bend laying in the back seat of his car caused, Taehyung; it was just you two. “Kookie, I'm gonna...” You tried to tell him, the pleasure making its way into your veins and spiking through your body; cutting your sentence short.

He understood you completely, though. “Shh, I got you, baby.” He rasped, eyes finding yours in the cloudy haze of pleasure the two of you had created. He loved to see you like this, fucked out and desperate for him. His hand was sliding between your legs to find your sensitive clit, using his fingers to push you over the edge.

Nails dragged down his strong back, as you clenched down around him. With one final call of his name, you were falling apart, hips bucking and head falling back. The sight of you unraveling, was enough to push Jungkook over the edge. His head ducked into the crook of your neck, teeth, and tongue finding your salty skin. He pounded his hips powerfully into you until his body was stilling.

A drawn-out moan left your lips at the feeling of his thick release coating your pulsing walls. Warmth spread throughout your body as you began to relax under him, breath heaving as your body laid limp against Italian leather.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathed out a laugh, eyes dropping to watch his dick slip from inside of you. The mixture of your release dripped out of you and he watched, amazed. “You're my perfect girl.” He complimented with a wide smile, droopy eyes lifting to find your smiling face. “I can't believe we just-”

His words were being cut off by a sharp knock against the window just above your head. Your body sprung up, arms wrapping around your body to cover your bare chest. Wide eyes landing on an annoyed-looking Taehyung.

“You can't do that here!” He called through the glass. Jungkook was smirking, reaching for the door to roll down the window. You stopped him, only being able to imagine what type of snarky remark he was about to spew.

“We're leaving!” You called back, officially kissing your weekly tennis lessons goodbye when you saw the scowl on the older male's face. He turned with a roll of his eyes, stalking his way back up the hill. “He's an asshole,” Jungkook noted and you laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Just take me home, want you to fuck me properly.” He perked up at the sound of that, hands quick to adjust his jeans before he was climbing into the front seat. “You lay comfy, I'll have you home in no time.” He grinned, quick with turning the keys in the ignition.

God, you loved this man. With every fiber of your being, you loved him. He was perfect for you and you could never imagine yourself with anyone else. You were sure he felt the same, making sure that you knew it every single day. The time apart only made your heart grow fonder, made every day with him that much more special.

You wouldn't change a thing.

4K notes · View notes

nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Blue Book- (12)

Warnings: negative emotions like heartbreak, envy etc, alcohol, excessive consumption of alcohol, making out etc.

Wc: 6.1k

You shot awake, groaning as you clutched the bed sheets tightly. Fuck, that was a terrible nightmare. You pushed the sheets off you, your skin feeling clammy and your hands sweaty.

"Y/n? You okay?"

You turned to see Minho looking at you, his face covered in concern as he tentatively placed his hand on your arm, tilting his head.

"I'm fine..." You sighed and shook your head, sitting up straighter. "Really...it was just a bad dream." You mumbled, sliding out of the bed and glancing back at Minho with a reassuring smile.

"Oh. Okay...' He stood up as well, adjusting the sheets and tucking them back in.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

You sighed and looked at the clock on Minho’s wall, pressing your lips together. "It's almost lunchtime. We definitely slept in...I am hungry, though."

"Fine, call it brunch. Either way, it's food." He chuckled, heading out of the door as you followed him with a giggle.

Minho opened his fridge, glancing over at you. "Your phone was ringing at midnight, by the way. i was going to answer it but whoever it was gave up before I could pick up. I didn't want to wake you.” He said as he took out ingredients for omelettes, placing them on the counter.

"Oh...it was probably Felix. I didn't exactly tell him I was staying at your place."

"Ah, that explains it. Go, call him. I'll be done with this soon." he said, pointing to the currently empty pan.

You nodded and went back to the bedroom to grab your phone, heading to Minho's balcony as you dialled Felix’s number.

***

Felix was cleaning the dishes when he heard his phone ring. He looked over at the contact ID quickly, heaving a sigh of relief mixed with anger. He glanced at Chan before answering your call, putting you on speakerphone.

"Y/n! I was fucking worried sick! Chan told me you walked out without any explanation and then you didn't come back home, and-"

"Woah woah, chill. I'm at Minho's, I stayed the night."

"Oh..." Felix paused. He didn't miss the way Chan's already dull expression morphed into something even more sour at the mention of Minho’s name.

"I’m glad you're safe but...that still doesn't excuse what you did. You could have called. Instead, you let me worry."

You sighed, guiltily. "I know...that was a dick move. I’m sorry, Lixie."

Felix sighed reluctantly. "I accept your apology, Y/n...you know I can't stay mad at you when you call me that." He pinched his forehead, trying not to let affection overcome him.

You giggled. "I know. My sunshine boy~ You can never be angry for too long, huh?"

Felix fought off his smile, shaking his head. 'Yeah, enough of the buttering. You need to get back here soon, and help me with the decorations to show me you’re really sorry."

"Decorations?" You asked, confused as you heard Minho call out for you. Turning back around, you went back into the kitchen, grinning as you saw the buttery golden omelettes he'd placed on the plates.

"They look so fluffy..." you mouthed, as Felix replied. "Yeah, for the party." he explained. "It's Jisung's birthday today, I thought you knew? Don’t tell me you forgot! The party's at our place-"

"Oh! Fuck, I did forget about that, Lix- "

"It’s okay, just come home quick. Bring Minho if you’d like, we could definitely use the extra help."

You nodded. "Sure, I'll be there right after breakfast."

You shut down your phone, sitting down at the table and grabbing a fork, digging into the eggs. Minho looked up, swallowing before he spoke.

"Jisung’s birthday, huh? I can't believe you almost forgot. He's going to be very mad." Minho teased, waving his fork in the air at you and smirking.

"Too bad he'll never find out." You said smugly. "Right?"

"Right." Minho chuckled. "How are the eggs?"

"Amazing. Why are you and Felix such naturals at cooking? And then there's me, nearly burning down the kitchen the last time I tried."

"Hey, it’s not your fault. It was the oven’s. We needed to fix it anyway." He laughed, continuing to eat his food.

"I guess so."

There was a comfortable silence for a bit as Minho watched you eat what he’d cooked for you. He hummed, realizing how calm he felt around you. Your presence made him feel so safe and secure.

You seemed to really be enjoying what was on your plate. Moaning softly in appreciation, you took another bite, his cheeks flushing at the sound.

“This is...wow. Perfect.” You grinned up at him, chewing enthusiastically.

Minho wished he could cook for you every morning, for the rest of his life.

***

"You're finally here!" Felix shook his head, flinging the door open wide as he beckoned the two of you in.

As you entered, your eyes immediately spotted Chan standing on the couch, hanging up a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner onto the wall. You inhaled sharply, your heart already beginning to pound errantly at the sight.

"We already did a lot of it without you..." he sighed. You gasped as you looked around the room, which had been completely transformed. There were tiny star-shaped lanterns hung from the ceilings, and the couch had been moved to the side, to provide space to dance. The living room was much cleaner, a stark contrast from how it looked yesterday.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I just overslept. Last night was weird. At least my headache is gone." You admitted. You felt Chan glance at you at that, quickly looking away before you could return his look.

Chan swallowed. His heart had dropped when he saw you and Minho walk into the room, together. One could only presume you'd stayed the night at his place. He felt overcome with jealousy, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand.

Envy. It was an emotion he had always been quite familiar with, unlike happiness. The person he was envious of had been and still was Minho. Minho, who he'd used to call his best friend.

First Miyoung, now you. Everything somehow circled back to him.

However, the jealousy he was feeling was a lot more profound this time. With Miyoung, there had been no illusions. Chan had been trying his best to win her over, but with no luck. Deep down, he’d known she was a lost cause.

With you, though...there was a time when he’d been almost sure you were the one, that you belonged to him...a time when he’d thought you were in love with him too.

It wasn't like Chan to dream. He wasn't one to believe in happily ever afters, really. They just weren’t realistic enough...

But, for a brief moment, you had made him want one.

Maybe that was why the bitter reveal had been all the more cruel... Minho, taking away what he considered his once more.

The thing was- Chan knew you were a human being. Not an object for him to claim. He wanted you to be happy...but would you be happy with Minho? He’d despised you back then. Chan still remembered the pure hatred that spewed out of Minho every time he talked about you. Had that been a ruse? Had he ever hated you? Or were you two secretly seeing each other the whole time, working together to undermine him and ruin the rest of his life?

Okay, so maybe that was a little far-fetched and absurd. Still...he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Chan sighed and looked back at his banner, deciding to ignore the both of you.

You tore your eyes away from Chan. Looking back at Felix, you hummed and tucked your hands in your pockets, breathing in.

"So, what do you want us to do?"

"Hm, let's see...we've got decorations and catering left. Minho can help me cook and you-"

Your eyes widened. No way- Felix wouldn’t suggest you help Chan with the decorations, right? He knew better than to leave the two of you alone again.

You saw Chan freeze for a moment as well, although his back was turned away from you. Good to know he felt the same way.

Felix sensed the tension rising, quickly trying to salvage the situatiom. "Hm actually, Y/n... I think I’ll need your help with the food. Especially with the drink choices, you're always the best at that!" He turned to Minho, clapping his hands decidedly.

"You can help Chan with the decorations, Min."

Minho nodded after a moment of reluctance, grimacing as he went over to inspect the banner Chan was putting up. Felix took you to the kitchen as you heaved a sigh of relief, placing your hand on your chest. “That was a close call.”

He took out the menus he wanted you to pick from, as he watched your expression.

"Why'd you leave last night, anyway?" He muttered sadly, carefully inspecting your face.

You thought back on it. Why did you? Last night was kind of fuzzy in your mind, to be honest. You couldn’t even recall the final straw that had made you storm out of the house. It wasn’t like you to be this spontaneous.

"Chan was annoying me, and making my headache worse. So I left." You shrugged.

"...Right." Felix rolled his eyes. "Look, I didn't want to say anything at first, but you do realize we're all grown up now, right? It's time for us to put all that high school shit in the past. I know Chan did some pretty shitty things but is it really that hard to forgive him? Minho was terrible as well- maybe even worse, yet you forgave him." He pointed out.

"Minho spent years grovelling and apologizing for his behavior. So what if he was mean, he's changed! It's clear to see. With Chan, I'm not so sure. I can feel the hate he has for me practically rolling off him.” You stared at the floor, trying not to let those memories overtake you. “Besides...I thought I told you. Chan’s betrayal hurt more cause I genuinely thought he cared about me.” You mumbled.

“Then again, I was stupid and naïve, so I don’t really have anyone else to blame but myself."

"Chan doesn't hate you..."

"Really? I find that hard to believe." You raised an eyebrow. "If he’s a mature adult, I think he should come and try to talk to me about what he did. I'm not the one who did something wrong here, so I won't approach him. If he wants to apologize, he can."

You sighed as you pulled the menu over to yourself. "But, as long as he continues to be petty, you better believe I'll play his game."

Felix sighed and nodded. "You know what...sure. Whatever." He made a mental note to himself, deciding to talk to Chan later. He couldn’t bear to stand on the sidelines any longer. He had to do something.

"I'm staying at Minho’s until he leaves." You added, ripping Felix out of his thoughts. Humming, you examined the drinks menu he handed to you.

Felix shrugged, noting down the names of the drinks you circled. "Okay. Ooh, the old gang will all be here tonight!" He let himself smile, ignoring your icy demeanor. Looking up, he sighed as he noticed the scowl still present on your face. “Come on Y/n, lighten up! Let’s forget about Chan for a second, shall we? Forget about what he did to you. Forget about whether or not you want to forgive him. Just...treat him like you would any other normal person, okay?"

You groaned, standing up straight as you rubbed your forehead. Ugh, maybe you should listen to him. All these negative emotions were really exhausting, and you could definitely do without them.

"Sure...fine. I can do that...I think."

"Good girl.” He smiled proudly. “Now, let's do food..."

***

Minho and Chan hadn't said a word to each other for the past hour. They communicated mainly through grunts and hand gestures, as they decorated the space in silence.

Between the mutual hate and jealousy, there wasn’t much room for a good relationship between them anymore. They were virtually strangers, and honestly would prefer to keep it that way.

Chan kept glancing at Minho though, biting his lip. He inhaled, working up his courage to say something.

“So...how’s Y/n? Are you taking care of her?"

What kind of question was that? Minho frowned, nodding. "Uh...yeah?"

Chan nodded, biting his lip as he looked at the decorations again. "Cool." He hated the way his heart was filled with dull hatred, anger and pain. A mass of negative emotions had settled in him over the years, and they definitely weren’t going to budge any time soon.

However...when he’d seen Minho again, some of the anger had melted away, kind of. The man was no longer the same person he’d been back then. More confident, yet also more vulnerable...he strangely reminded him of you, before you'd shattered your rosy view on life and opted for a more practical outlook.

There was an awkward silence as they continued their work. Minho felt guilt slam against his ribs as he caught a glimpse of Chan's face.

He looked void of hope. Calm, yet not in a good way. The kind of calm that came from losing everything.

There was a tiny part of him that wanted to make it all better for Chan. Tell the truth to you, and come clean. After all, Chan was once his closest friend. The two practically grew up together. Minho recalled how he’d go over to Chan’s every day after school, playing video games in his basement and generally horsing around. He smiled to himself as the memories came back to him. Memories of helping him steal his dad’s Playboy magazine...consuming an unhealthy amount of energy drinks and crisps as they hung out, content in each other’s company.

But then, he thought about you. No. He just couldn't lose you to Chan. Besides, he wasn’t even completely sure if the truth would make you forgive Chan. Maybe it would just turn you against Minho.

Chan was handsome...he was kind, muscular, loving. He would have no problem finding someone.

Minho on the other hand...he'd never loved anyone the way he did you. The emotions were alien, and yet so exciting. It was confusing, really- he couldn’t tell if he liked these feelings or not.

It wasn’t like he was stripping Chan of his soulmate or anything. It just wasn't a big deal. Right?

Then why was there so much fucking guilt, heavily weighing down his heart? Why was it impossible to breathe?

Despite having been thrown together last minute, the party was admittedly going well. The rest of the boys came soon after you and Minho, helping Felix finish off the preparations and transform the space.

Jisung of course, true to his nature, came ‘fashionably late’, after the rest of the guests had already arrived. His grand entrance lacked the raining confetti he’d initially wanted, but it was still cool. After all, he should have known putting Hyunjin in charge of it was a bad idea.

By now, the party was in full swing. Jisung loved being the centre of attention, and that little fact was made increasingly evident with the way he was dancing in the middle of the living room, a pink feather boa thrown around his shoulders. There were drinks being passed around everywhere, people dancing and having fun in every corner. it reminded you of the few college parties you'd gone to.

College, safe to say, weren’t exactly the best years of your life. You didn't really have any friends, and Chan had been on your mind throughout it all. He was a barrier; blocking you from living your life as a normal person.

He sat in the back of your mind, a memory from high school that threatened to never leave you. To always stick with you, reminding you that you weren't worthy. You weren't deserving of his love...all you did was play the part of a tool, to help him get the girl he was really after. Was that really all you were good for?

It wasn’t Chan you were hung up on. The implications were what truly hurt. The thought that you wouldn’t ever be worth enough to anyone, the thought that love just didn’t exist for you.

You stood in the corner with Felix, sighing as you finished your third shot of the evening. Forget it. Focus on the party right now, the one you’re supposed to supervise.

Nodding your head to the beat, you looked over the crowd. "Damn, Changbin's a really good DJ. We saved so much money on that one..." You eyed a drunken party goer almost knocking over the vase on the table, wincing.

"This place is going to be a fucking mess by tonight, and I'm sure at least one thing will end up broken. It’s good we managed to save some money." You sighed, and Felix nodded. "Amen to that. It’ll be a nightmare to clean.'' Felix sighed, running his eyes over the floor which was already covered with a thin layer of trash.

Minho suddenly slid next to the two of you, swallowing the remnants of the clear liquid in his glass as he grabbed your arm. His words were already slurred, and he’d definitely had a lot more drinks than you.

"Don't worry, we'll all help clean up! What are we here for?”

“Hm, does that mean you guys will be staying here overnight?”

Your eyes widened slightly. No. Minho noticed your expression, humming thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“Can’t. My cats. They don’t like being alone for too long." He took your hand in his. "Y/n and I will be here early tomorrow morning to clean up."

You looked up at him thankfully, and then back at Felix. "Yeah."

He eyed the two of you, gaze flitting from one to the other. "Okay...sure.”

The music was way too loud, the floor and walls thrumming to the beat. The three of you relaxed against the wall, collectively watching as the man Hyunjin was dancing with whispered something in his ear, a cheeky smile gracing his face. The bedroom eyes were clear to see, even from here.

You frowned, narrowing your eyes at the sight. "Oh god, please tell me he's not going to-"

Hyunjin smirked, taking the man's hand and leading him off in the opposite direction, through the small crowd.

Your eyes widened. "I swear to god, if it’s my room they’re going to be fucking in, I’ll-"

Felix giggled as he patted your back sympathetically, Minho holding you back and chuckling. "Hey, hey- it's ok. I’m sure they won’t go all the way here, they’ll probably just make out in the bathroom and then go back to his place. Don’t worry."

You groaned and slumped in Minho’s hold. "I guess Hyunjin does know better."

Felix hummed in agreement, chortling. He looked over at the plates on the table that were gradually emptying, and sighed.

"Guys, wait here for a bit. Gotta refill those."

You nodded as Felix left for the kitchen, turning back to Minho. Sighing, you leaned against the wall as you looked around the room properly.

"You and Chan did a good job on the decorations."

"It was mostly him." Minho exhaled. You pressed your lips together, shrugging.

The room was dimly lit in a purple glow thanks to the lamp in the corner, as well as the plenty of stars that were hung from the ceilings. It was beautiful, and you were a little miffed that none of the guests were sober enough to truly appreciate it.

Jisung danced over to the two of you suddenly, shaking his neck and laughing loudly. "Hey you two!!” He wiggled his body to the music, grinning. “Come on guys, stop being wallflowers and come partaayyyy!"

You chuckled and shook your head. "I don't know about-"

Jisung pouted at you, coming really close to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "Pleeeaaase? For the birthday boy?" he asked, his eyes big and puppy like, his lips formed into a pout.

You stared him down, but just couldn't resist as a smile broke out on your face. "Ugh, fine."

"Good girl!" Jisung exclaimed drunkenly as Minho smirked, chuckling to himself as Jisung took his hand as well as yours, leading the two of you into the crowd.

Jeongin was on the floor as well, surprisingly dancing up a storm as he grinned at you. Ah well. If Jeongin could, why not you? You might as well take advantage of the buzzing in your veins.

You immediately started dancing, moving your body to the beat and trying your best to look graceful and sexy. However, the alcohol was messing with your system, and it was difficult for you to coordinate your moments right.

Minho laughed fondly at your failed attempts. It was adorable, how you danced like a baby giraffe learning how to walk.

"Hey." He grabbed both of your arms, making you look at him. You looked into his eyes, a questioning look in them.

Minho inhaled. He almost forgot what he was going to say. Fuck that, he almost even forgot his own name. Did he have to feel like this every single time you so much as glanced at him?

"I'll help...this is how you dance." He moved behind you, pressing your back to his chest lightly. Your breathing turned shaky as he started guiding your movements carefully.

"See...like that. Got it?"

You nodded. "I think so..." You continued dancing, now looking a lot more sensual and less like a baby animal.

You got the hang of it soon enough. Minho was about to let go of you, but you held onto him before he could.

“Dance with mee.” You giggled, pouting up at him. He smiled down at you, inhaling.

“Okay~”

***

Chan watched from across the room as Minho and you danced, pressed to each other. He downed yet another shot, hoping the stinging alcohol would help him forget his worries and pain, at least just for a bit.

Fuck envy. It was definitely the worst of them all. Despite the anger he had towards you, all he wanted to do was march onto that dance floor and pull you away from Minho. He wanted to be the one dancing with you instead.

He was so...so unsatisfied. The alcohol melted away his inhibitions, and now his emotions were all over the place, even more so than before.

Unsatisfied. That was it. He wasn't able to be productive, wasn't doing anything with his life merely because of his unfinished business with you.

He knew he couldn’t blame you. You’d definitely come to know about the bet, probably why you’d left him. Although why Minho? God, the shock of seeing you two together that day was still fresh.

You were more than just a bet to him, and he wished you knew that. More than a blue book.

You were...you. You were the prettiest, sweetest, most talented girl he’d ever met.

You’d changed since the last time he saw you. More cynical. Rough, defensive. He didn't blame you. That...that was his fault. The reason why you were like that.

Despite that, he could still see traces of the old you. The you he’d fallen in love with. It had not gone anywhere, really. It was still inside you...somewhere.

Chan was starting to feel profound regret at the way he’d treated you. Was it stupid of him to think you’d still want him, after learning what he’d done to you?

Chan sat up as he watched Minho's hand slide around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

Fuck, he almost wanted to throw up. He felt the anger course back into him, anger directed at you, at Minho, at his parents, everything.

That was it. He couldn't watch this, sitting in the corner drinking booze like some sort of pathetic idiot.

No, you had to get a taste of your own medicine.

Chan noticed the blonde in the crowd who had been eyeing him for ages. She was pretty enough, her features soft and smooth. On top of that, she was wearing possibly the shortest red dress he'd ever seen. Her fake tan was excessive, her cleavage abundant.

In other words, she was perfect. Perfect for him to use as he put his drunken plan into action.

Chan stood up, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down. He made his way into the crowd, sidling up to the blonde.

She smiled welcomingly, blinking up at him through her eyelashes. He grinned, glancing to the side as he moved closer to her.

Hm, you hadn't noticed yet. He had to step it up.

Placing his hands on her waist, he started moving her to the beat. Slowly he brought her closer to Minho and you, hoping that you would just look over for a second-

FInally! You noticed! A triumphant smirk formed on his face.

He wanted you to know that he didn’t need you. He wanted you to feel at least a little bit of the envy he was feeling. Again, it was the small victories that counted.

***

Your eyes wandered back to Minho, your throat feeling constricted as you tried your best to avoid the sight of Chan and the girl.

It was painful. So fucking painful.

You still haven’t moved on from him, as much as you would have liked to. Watching him dance with her was leaving a bad taste in your mouth, your throat going dry.

They were all over each other. Her hands were around his shoulders and his were on her waist, their lips dangerously close as the racy music filled the room.

You knew you were in a similar position with Minho at the moment, though. It was the alcohol blurring the lines, or you wouldn't be caught in such a compromising position with him, really.

Still. This was different...right?

Fuck it, you just wanted an excuse to be angry at him.

Chan somehow pulled the girl in closer, his hands slowly creeping down her waist and towards her ass. You swallowed and looked back at Minho before those hands could find their destination. Minho was looking at you with his eyebrow raised, his hands a little tighter on you.

"Everything okay, hm?"

"Kinda..."

"Are you sure?"

When you didn’t reply, Minho followed your gaze to Chan and the blonde, and then back to you. He put two and two together, sighing deeply.

"You deserve better, Y/n. You've got to move on." Minho swallowed.

Yes, you did deserve better. Better than Chan, and better than him. You deserved someone who didn't keep any secrets from you, someone who would never even think of manipulating you.

He despised himself for what he'd done. The way he behaved. As every second passed, the guilt grew. But how could he tell you? How could he even stand the chance of losing you?

It was his fault. Everything was his fault.

You noticed the sudden devastated expression on his face, frowning and cupping his cheeks to make him look at you.

"Minho...are you okay?"

"Mhm." Minho mumbled. "Uh...I need to go to the bathroom." His face was white as he let go of you swiftly, stumbling away as quickly as he could and disappearing in the crowd.

You watched as he left, puzzled. Fuck, now you were alone. Just great.

You groaned under your breath, feeling Chan's gaze on you. Turning around slightly, you tried to avoid him, but unfortunately your eyes had already moved of their own accord.

His lips were on her neck, her back turned to you. However, he was looking right at you, an intoxicated smirk creeping on his face as he ran his eyes over you, all alone in the middle of a dancing crowd.

Biting your lip, you clenched your fists. You turned around, wading through the sweaty, grinding bodies, and made your way to the kitchen. You needed some peace and quiet.

You filled up a glass of water, lifting it to your lips. The cool liquid ran down your throat, making you sigh in relief. It was so refreshing, a sharp contrast to the alcohol you’d been consuming all night.

You turned around, ready to go back into the room and find Minho when you slammed into a firm chest, blocking your exit.

Ugh. This couldn't be happening.

"Move."

"Shh.'' Chan shook his head, placing a finger under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He caged you against the counter with his other arm, his eyes glazed over.

"Look. We both know- hic- that you and I have incomplete business-"

You groaned, pushing him away slightly. "You're drunk, Chan."

"I am not." He glared at you, placing his hand over his annoyingly broad chest, an offended look on his face. "Just a little tipsy, that's all..."

You cringed, looking past him at the crowd. Ugh, where was Minho? Where was Felix?

"Look at me..."

You looked back at Chan, inhaling sharply. "What do you want?"

Chan looked taken aback at your tone. He recovered slowly, stepping back and humming.

"I want…” He closed his eyes, sighing. “I want to know why you hate me." He said, his tone surprisingly even considering the amount of alcohol he’d knocked back.

"I- are you seriously asking me that question right now?" You asked incredulously. Seriously, how fucking dense could he be?

"I am, Y/n. answer me." His slurred voice turned into a growl as he leaned in close.

"I was nothing but nice to you, when no one else was...I loved you, I-"

You scoffed, interrupting him. "Oh wow, thank you so much.” You said sarcastically. “I think you and I both know all that was fake. You were fake, Chan- it didn't mean anything to you-"

Chan slammed his hand on the counter next to you, making you flinch.

"But it did! It fucking meant everything to me. It was the only thing that ever meant anything, and I'm sorry it had to happen the way it did, sorry I lost that damn boo-"

"A simple sorry is not going to make me forgive you." You shook your head. "Get off me, Chan."

"I don't want you to forgive me! For fuck's sakes, I just-" He breathed in, his voice turning soft as he ran a hand through his hair, his breathing shaky.

"I just want to know why you chose him over me. He- he was worse-"

"Huh?" His words were too slurred for you to recognize. "Look, Chan-"

"Shut up." Chan shook his head, leaning in further. For a second, he scanned your eyes with his.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

Inhaling softly, he smashed his lips against yours.

It took you by complete surprise. Your heart felt like it was exploding- like a million, elephant sized butterflies were threatening to burst out. Shit, his lips were so fucking soft.

Was this actually happening?

It was. Insistent, yet gentle...his lips were all you could focus on. It felt overwhelmingly real, nothing like a dream.

Warm. He’s so warm...

You resisted him for all of half a second, before melting into the kiss. Your hands snaked around his neck as he placed his under your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. You were quickly getting yourself lost in him, the feeling of his lips on yours so familiar and yet so new.

"Can't- can't get enough of you, don't think I ever will-" He mumbled incoherently against your mouth, his grip on you tight as he pressed against you.

Your mind was completely blank. There was no pride or anger in your head anymore, just Chan Chan Chan. His plump lips, moving against yours so passionately and swallowing all your breaths. It was partly due to the alcohol, yes- but also all the tension. Years of wondering if this moment would happen again.

And now it was.

“Chan-” You whispered into the kiss, tears pricking at your eyes.

This was a bad idea, it really was- you shouldn't be kissing him back like this. You were supposed to be mad at him- you were supposed to prove to him that you'd moved on. That you wouldn't let anyone use you like that ever again.

And yet here you were, right back at square 1.

"Please, please..." he whispered, nipping at your already swollen lips with fervor as he dove right back in, caressing your back.

His heart was pounding, unable to believe you were actually in his arms. Shit, he knew this was such a terrible idea. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

It was wrong, he knew it. Even if he believed he loved you more than Minho ever could, it was still wrong. You weren't his, and he had to learn to accept that.

But...he needed one last kiss. One last kiss to let him know if you were a lost cause, or if you truly were meant to be his. He wanted to know. And so he deepened the kiss further, making you let out a small squeak that only made him want you more.

"Guys?"

Chan pulled away, dropping you to the floor quickly as soon as he heard Seungmin's voice.

Seungmin eyed the two of you, suspicion covering his face. You swallowed, subtly pulling down your skirt as you blinked, trying to adjust to the light that flooded your eyes. “Seung-”

Shit. Was that Minho, slumped against Seungmin’s body?

He looked between the two of you, sighing as he saw your eyes on Minho. Minho’s eyes were closed, his forehead covered in sweat and his body limp. You moved forward, quickly rushing over to his side. “What happened?”

"Found him in the bathroom. He threw up, was crying on the floor. He didn’t tell me why...I’m assuming he’s just way too drunk."

Minho looked up slowly, blinking and staring at you as he registered your face. "Y/n...." he stretched out an arm towards you, whining.

Seungmin groaned, Minho's weight clearly too much for him to support. "Y/n, please take him home. He needs rest. I'll explain to Jisung."

You couldn't look at Chan as you nodded. You carefully trained your stare on Minho as you went over to Seungmin, letting him transfer the man to you.

"Min...you okay?"

He shook his head, gasping as he tried to take oxygen in. His eyes travelled past you, landing on a very remorseful Chan, his face covered in embarrassment.

You bit your lip, stroking his hair. “I’ll get him to the car. Tell Felix we’re going home, okay?”

Seungmin nodded, heading back into the living room to find Felix after shooting a last glance at Chan.

You pressed down the urge to look back at him. Don’t do it, Y/n. You need to go home and re-evaluate your decision-making. Fuck, why didn’t you push him away?

You ignored the delightful tingling of your lips as you helped Minho out, most of the partiers completely oblivious as you dragged him out to the car, with a lot of difficulty.

You opened the passenger door with one hand, helping Minho in. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his mouth slightly open as he let out a soft snore. Chuckling to yourself, you patted his head before getting into the driver’s seat. You weren’t drunk enough to warrant calling a taxi, so you might as well save some money.

Tonight was...eventful, to say the least.

Minho cracked one eye open slowly, watching as you drove. His eyes were burning, his throat aching. He hated feeling like this, he really did. He wished he hadn’t gotten this drunk. The alcohol and his sudden overflow of emotions did not mix well, and had ultimately resulted in him bent over the toilet bowl.

There was only one way to get rid of this fucking guilt. Minho wasn’t quite sure yet if he could go through with it, though.

There was a lot of thinking to do.

***

Chan stood near the counter. He couldn’t bring himself to move, his eyes unfocused as he replayed the scenes over and over in his head.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. The one thing he’d told himself not to do. Don’t fall for her again. You got your heart broken once, why are you so eager to let it happen once more?

Regret. It was on all three minds, tonight.

#chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan series #bang chan x reader #chris bang x reader #chris bang smut #chris x reader #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz angst #chan angst #bang chan angst #minho angst #lee know angst

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chronicallycrow · 3 years

Text

Cards.

Fandom: Cookie Run

Character(s): Cinnamon Cookie

Ship(s): Cinnamon/Reader

Word Count: 2,166

TW: Uhh,,, tarot reading? If that sets anyone off?

Notes: Hey, Cinnamon, thanks for being the character that got me out of my "I'm writing 1k words or less" fic phase./j Anyway, this started as an idea I mentioned on my main - Black-market tarot reading Cinnamon. It ended up a lot cuter than I thought it would, and made me write a HELL of a lot more than I have in a LONG time. Oh, and, I use he/they pronouns for Cinnamon! They alternate every paragraph. And, once again, I'm sorry for the weird formatting, mobile tumblr and all. Again, I don't currently have access to a computer.

The City of Wizards was an interesting place. It always had a specific feel to it, and it was always somehow shrouded in darkness yet bright. Saying you loved this place might have been an understatement. There weren't many people who lived in the town anymore - Some people thought no one did - But you knew there were people, and you knew exactly where to go to find them. And that's what you were currently doing.

You strolled through the city, looking for one place in particular. It was near one of the further corners of the town - A small little magic shop that sat inbetween two buildings that were vacant. You could miss it if you didn't know what you were looking for - The sign, with that ever-so-slightly too fancy font, fit into the rest of the town, and the windows being full of little trinkets did as well.

You turned on your heel and turned the door knob, immediately being hit by the scent of incense and cinnamon. You walked into the shop and closed the door, calling out, "Cinna?" A hum came from behind one of the shelves, and out appeared the devil themself, Cinnamon. "Hey!" You stated simply. They smiled at you and returned your greeting before asking, "Do you need anything, or are you just here to look around?" Either was fine by them - And you knew that. There was many a day where you'd sit in the shop or just look through what Cinnamon had in stock.

"Well, I-' He seemed surprised you actually wanted something, but not in a bad way. "I was actually wondering if you could-- Give me a reading? With your tarot cards?" He was a bit taken back, but seemed pleased with your request. "Of course! Right this way." He did that over-dramatic cape swish thing. It always reminded you he loved to entertain people when he did that. You followed him to a small room in the back where he did readings - Few people knew about it, but of course few people came in the near vicinity of his shop.

A table sat in the middle with some boxes and a mat laid on it. Cinnamon sat down on one side and gestured you to sit in the chair on the other side. You'd never actually gotten a reading from them, but apparently they were actually pretty good at it. They opened a box and pulled out a deck of golden-edged cards, the backs were purple. They tapped at the sides, before looking at you. "What do you want to know?" "My love life-" You blurted out before anything else. You covered your mouth, wide eyed. Why had you said that?! Cinnamon seemed to be amused by this and let out a soft laugh before beginning to shuffle the cards.

He did the card-fan thing. "Pick a card, any card!" You let out a soft laugh before grabbing one. He placed it face down on the table before shuffling the cards some more. He pulled and shuffled a handful of times, ending up with a spread of six cards. He flipped over the card you'd pulled. The card read, 'The Fool.' "This card," Cinnamon began, picking it up and turning it towards you, "represents you. It's a card that means new beginnings and new possibilities. It can also mean impulsiveness. The Fool is..." Cinnamon glanced up for a moment, before looking you in the eyes. "The Fool is a free spirit who doesn't know exactly what they want, but is willing to try anything to find the right path." And with that, he placed the card back down onto the table.

They flipped over the next card; it read 'The Magician.' "This card represents the person who... You're going to be with? Who you like? This is the other person." They turned it towards you. "You're a magician." You joked, giving a soft breath of a laugh. Cinnamon's face turned a soft shade of red from your comment, but continued on. (Little did either of you know that little joke was closer to the truth than either of you could think right now.) "It symbolizes being original, and confidence and skills. They might be extremely confident in their actions, and they're probably skilled in something." You placed your chin in your palm, staring at the card, then at Cinnamon.

He went to the next card. It read 'The Lovers.' "This card represents you and that person's bond." He stated. "That's good, isn't it?" He nodded in response before starting, "This card represents, well, love. It can also mean trust and harmany." "But I'm not in a relationship with anyone?" You mused. He shrugged. "You probably already know them and just trust them a lot. You two are probably already really close." You nodded, but something pulled at your conciousness. What if your joke was actually true? If he was the one representing the magician? "Hey," He waved a hand infront of your face, "Are you alright?" "Yeah, sorry- Go on." You sat back, and he turned over the next card.

The card read 'six of cups.' "This is your past with them, it represents nostalgia and, in this case, an old friend." You nodded, humming. "It seems like you two have known each other for a long time and trust eachother a lot." They stated simply. You traced a circle on the table with your hand. It was suddenly very hard to look at Cinnamon.

He turned over the next card. There was one more after this and you'd be done. It read 'two of cups.' Cinnamon let out a soft laugh. You tilted your head, actually meeting his eyes for a second. "This is your future with this person. The two of cups represents happy relationships and love. When you two get into a relationship it'll be a good one. I'm jealous." He said jokingly. You let out a small laugh. Your face was hot.

They finally turned over the last card. It read 'King of Wands.' "This card is advice for you." You tilted your head again, murmuring a soft, but non-demanding, "Well?" "I think in this context it's telling you you should be honest with them and tell them. It represents honesty and charm." You blinked. Cinnamon looked at the spread, then bagan to put the cards up. You looked down at your hands for a minute. Be honest? You hadn't excepted that. You didn't even realize you were-- Of course you were. Cinnamon was your closest friend. They stood up, snapping you out of your own thoughts. You stood as well. "Do you need anything else?" They asked, walking towards the door. "I don't think so- Here, let me-" You dug around your bag for a minute for your wallet. "No, it's fine-" "Are you sure?" They nodded.

You two got out into the main part of the shop, and you realized the time. It was dark outside by now - Actually dark. "Hey, Cinna?" He looked at you. "Can I spend the night - It's- It's gonna be dark out and I have to walk home. I don't think that's safe." Without thought he spoke, "Of course- Let me close up shop and we'll go upstairs and make dinner." You nodded and decided to look around while he did so. You found the two shop cats, one a black cat and one an orange cat. "You have cats?" You called. He walked over to you, kneeling down to pet one of them. "Yeah! I thought you knew?" You shook your head. "This is Pumpkin," He pointed towards the orange one. "She's new, so she doesn't have a name yet," He sighed. "Maybe you can name her later?" You nodded, "I'll see what I can come up with." With that the two of you headed up the stairs to Cinnamon's apartment.

It was a nice little space. You'd been up here before, but you'd never actually spent the night. They went into the kitchen while you looked around, eventually landing near Cinnamon Bunny's cage and giving them some pets. Cinnamon's apartment always smelt nice. They always smelt nice - It was that soft smell of a pastry shop that used a lot of cinnamon. They seemed to have the stuff everywhere, but you weren't going to complain too much - Unless it was another one of their shows where someone got too close and sneezed. Sometimes, in practice, when you'd watch them, they'd sneeze and mess up their tricks. You found it endearing.

"[Y/N]?" Cinnamon called. "Yeah?" "Food's ready." You walked into the kitchen. He'd made a full meal for you two, and honest to Millennial Tree it looked amazing. It tasted even better. You'd had Cinnamon's cooking on occasion, but never an actual meal made by him. As soon as you two had finished the oven beeped. He looked pleased. "I preheated it, if you want to make something for tomorrow morning?" You nodded, and followed him into the kitchen, placing your plate and silverware into the sink. He pulled out a series of things from multiple cupboards and cabinets, then grabbed out aprons and handed you one.

You two ended up making a mess while baking. There was flour everywhere, but you two were both laughing. They ended up getting two brooms, and you swept up the mess you made. Once that was done they looked over the both of you. "We should get cleaned up," they laughed. You nodded, before realizing something. "Cinna, I don't have-" "You can borrow some of my clothes." They hummed. You nodded, and they went off to get some, shouting back at you, "You can go take a shower if you want, I'll bring them to you." You did exactly that.

You felt much cleaner once done with the shower. He had left you a shirt that looked like it would be too big for him (or you) and a pair of sweatpants. You put them on, and were immediately ingulfed by that soft scent of cinnamon. You tried your hardest not to bury your nose in the clothing, instead leaving the bathroom. You were met with Cinnamon sitting on the couch, playing around with a deck of cards. You sat beside him, watching his hands as he played with the deck. "Are those alright?" He asked, flicking one card around. You nodded, letting out an "mh-hm." He got up then, and glanced at you. "I'm gonna go take a shower, too. I'll be back."

You ended up trying to do the tricks you saw Cinnamon do with the previously mentioned deck of cards. You failed at every one of them, but it gave you time to waste. Your mind did end up drifting back to the reading earlier. Cinnamon had to feel the same way, right? If the cards were anything to go by, they had to. You sighed and put the playing cards down, staring up. You then realized that you'd have to be sleeping on the couch - Not that you really minded. You knew they didn't have a guest room or an extra bed. Before you could get too lost in your thoughts Cinnamon appeared again. They were wearing about the same thing as you. The oven dinged. Convenient.

"I'll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed, by the way." He'd stated, as if he'd read your mind earlier, while pulling out the pan of cinnamon rolls. What else did you think he'd make? "No, I can- It's fine." You replied. He shook his head. "You're the guest, you should get the bed." He was pouring a light sugar icing on the rolls. "I-" Be more confident, the cards. "We could just-- Share the bed? Its big enough for that, right?" Cinnamon glanced at you, before letting out a small sigh. It was hard to tell if it was of content or annoyance that you didn't just take the bed alone. "Yeah, it is- That's fine."

Once the rolls had been fully iced and put in the fridge you two headed to Cinnamon's bedroom and got in their bed. You faced away from eachother, at least at first, but you decided to, again, take what the cards said, and turned towards them. Their back was facing towards you. "Cinna?" You murmured, shifting closer to them. They let out a hum, glancing back at you. You suddenly felt extremely hot. No going back now. "I-" You took a breath in. Dammit. Say it. "I think the cards were talking about you??" Why was that a question. They let out a small laugh and turned towards you. "I know." They responded simply before pulling you close to them. "Goodnight." And with that, they closed their eyes and drifted into sleep. You stayed there, dumbfounded for a couple of minutes, before just accepting it and murmuring a, "goodnight" back and getting to sleep. You two could properly talk this out in the morning.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cinnamon cookie #crob #ovenbreak #cr ovenbreak #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader fanfic #x reader #cookie run x reader #AM writes

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misscorn · 3 years

Text

Day 6: Takaritsu Day/Confession

I can't believe @takaritsuweek is almost over 😭 please enjoy this one shot ❤

***

Ritsu was starting to become convinced that the universe was trying to tell him that he and Masamune shouldn't be together. Every time Ritsu attempted to confess something went wrong and prevented him from doing so.

First it was the dinner disaster (the first of many dinner disasters, in fact). Ritsu had attempted to prepare a nice dinner for he and Masamune to share, but when Masamune came over what he found was Ritsu in a complete mess of a kitchen. The two of them spent their time cleaning everything up instead of eating as Ritsu apologized profusely for the trouble. It had taken so much courage for Ritsu to even ask Masamune over and then Ritsu had gone and ruined it all. It took everything in Ritsu not to cry, but Masamune managed to distract him with the suggestion of ordering in and watching a few movies. Somehow it ended up being at least a little bit fun, but Ritsu still felt bad for messing everything up.

Then there was the flower failure. Ritsu had thought that maybe a different romantic gesture would be good. When he had left his home to go get a bouquet the sky had been an ominous gray, but he hadn't brought an umbrella. He had only just managed to avoid the rain as he rushed into the shop. After purchasing his flowers he had hung around the shop to wait for the rain to pass. Luckily it was a short, though intense burst and Ritsu didn't have to wait for too terribly long. He left hurriedly after the rain stopped, but he wasn't able to stay dry for long as a car sped past him and totally soaked him with dirty street water. And had soaked the bouquet as well. Ritsu locked himself in his apartment for the rest of the day to sulk and Masamune had never learned of Ritsu's plan to surprise him.

The list went on and on: the chocolate calamity, the botched beach day, the festival fiasco, and not to mention the repeating ringtone. The repeating ringtone, as the name suggested, was a repeat offender. Masamune and Ritsu seemed to just not know how to turn their stupid phones off and every time Ritsu is about to open his mouth and say those three little words, one of their phones ring to interrupt him.

Ritsu was at his wits end. He couldn't even think about confessing at this point without getting extremely frustrated or just wanting to cry. At this rate he would never be able to confess. Maybe it really is the world trying to tell me it's not a good idea, Ritsu lamented. How many times could his confession go wrong before Ritsu finally took it as a sign?

Ritsu's pessimism was growing with every failed confession and eventually it started to become noticeable to Masamune. It was difficult for Ritsu to look Masamune in the eye and spend time with him outside of work when it was just a reminder that he was never going to be able to properly communicate his feelings because for some reason fate had a vendetta against him.

Masamune didn't understand why Ritsu was suddenly starting to avoid him after the two of them seemed to be making progress. Why was Ritsu suddenly only speaking to him at work? Why wouldn't Ritsu maintain eye contact with him for long? Why couldn't Masamune make Ritsu blush as easily as he used to? He was becoming seriously concerned and if he had to corner Ritsu to get answers then he would.

That's why Masamune was currently standing in front of Ritsu's apartment, knocking on his door insistently. When his knocks didn't get a response he then started to call Ritsu over and over again. Masamune knew how to be annoying and damn it he would annoy the hell out of Ritsu until he couldn't possibly ignore him anymore.

It took a while, but eventually Ritsu's door slowly creaked open. Ritsu narrowed his eyes at Masamune as he rejected what must have been Masamune's twentieth call. "What do you want Takano-san?" He asked. Well, Masamune had definitely succeeded in annoying Ritsu.

"I'm coming in." Masamune said instead of answering, managing to push past Ritsu and into the apartment.

"Takano-san!" Ritsu exclaimed in protest, but Masamune ignored him as he took off his shoes. "You can't just come in here whenever you want!"

"It's cleaner than usual. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You've been spending your time cleaning instead?"

"What? A-avoiding you? I haven't been avoiding you." Ritsu said as he averted his eyes, not able to look at Masamune as he lied.

"Are you angry with me?" Masamune asked. "Did I do something?" He stepped closer to Ritsu, invading his space as he so often did.

"No-I'm not-" Ritsu backed up, pressing himself against the door as he shook his head. "You didn't do anything, but I'm a little busy, so if you could please show yourself out." He huffed, managing to get past Masamune and walk deeper into his apartment. He should've known that Masamune would follow.

"How am I supposed to apologize if you won't talk to me?" Masamune pressed.

"I already told you, you didn't do anything." Ritsu repeated. "Other than letting yourself into my apartment!" He added. "So, please, just go-"

"Ritsu, whatever I did, I'm sorr-"

"It's not you!" Ritsu insisted, his frustrations beginning to build up inside him rapidly from every push from Masamune.

"Then why won't you even look at me?" Masamune frowned, stepping closer to take Ritsu's hand, but the brunette quickly snatched it away.

"Because...because looking at you makes me think of how much I'm screwing this all up!" Ritsu covered his face with a hand, humiliated.

"What? Ritsu, what are you talking about?" Masamune asked, reaching out to put his hands on Ritsu's shoulders.

Ritsu refused to look Masamune in the face, even with Masamune attempting to coax him to do so. "Every time I try to plan something nice, it all goes wrong! How you're not sick of all this nonsense yet I'll never understand."

"Ritsu, I still don't know what you're talking about." Masamune frowned. Just what the hell was Ritsu going on about?

"I just want things to be perfect and they never go the way I plan: I either almost explode my kitchen or forget to bring sunscreen to the beach or get sick after too many festival foods or have a stupid author emergency that interrupts everything! You don't even know how many plans I've had that never even got off the ground! Everything just gets messed up every single time!" Ritsu was getting more and more worked up as his eyes started to water.

"Ritsu..." Masamune stared, feeling a little useless in this situation.

"I'm sorry." Ritsu apologized. "I'm a pretty crummy boyfriend, huh?" He laughed humorlessly.

Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Had Ritsu just willingly referred to himself as Masamune's boyfriend?!

"Are you an idiot?" Masamune squeezed his shoulders.

"H-Huh?"

"So what that things go wrong sometimes? Do you think that's what I remember?" Masamune asked. "I remember having fun at the beach because you had fun. Yeah, we got a little sunburnt, but having a red back was worth spending time together. I loved watching you get all excited at the festival, even if your excitement went a little overboard, and I always want to be there to feel that kind of excitement with you. And yes, you've probably destroyed your kitchen more times than either of us can count, but I like having an excuse to just sit on the couch and cuddle while waiting for takeout. Ritsu, I don't care what we do or what happens, what I care about is that we're doing it together." Masamune hoped he was at least helping a little bit, but it seemed his words only made Ritsu's tears spill over.

"T-Takano-san..." Ritsu managed in a wobbly voice.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Masamune and Ritsu both stared at each other for a good while as Ritsu's words sunk in.

"Wait!" Ritsu shouted, throwing his hands up and waving them frantically. "No, no! I wasn't supposed to say that! This wasn't how it was supposed to go! It was supposed to be special! Please ignore-!"

Masamune crushed Ritsu to his body, kissing him so hard that his lips would probably bruise, but he didn't care.

Ritsu tensed at first, his face flushing red at the sudden kiss. Slowly, he relaxed in Masamune's hold, wrapping his arms around his neck as he shyly started to return the affection.

"Your room, now." Masamune started to pull a stunned Ritsu in the direction of his bedroom.

"H-h-huh?"

"You didn't think you could say something like that without consequences, did you?"

"But..." Ritsu blinked a few times, slowly getting his thoughts back in order. "I told you it would be perfect." He frowned.

Masamune stared for a moment before sighing, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?" He asked, making Ritsu frown. "It was always going to be perfect. Because it's coming from you."

Ritsu tried to stop himself from tearing up again. How can he be such an asshole but also so heartfelt? It was Ritsu's turn to kiss Masamune entirely too hard and the brunette didn't resist when Masamune led him to the bedroom.

How could he possibly think he isn't perfect? Masamune wondered as he kissed Ritsu passionately on his bed, the brunette laying on his back and clinging on to Masamune tightly.

Masamune was just about to run his hands up Ritsu's shirt when a familiar ringtone buzzed from Ritsu's pants pocket.

"Pft." Masamune was attempting (and failing) to hold back a laugh.

"Its not funny." Ritsu scowled as he fished his phone out and promptly turned it off, not even bothering to check who was calling.

Masamune smiled at the sight of Ritsu's haughty expression as he shoved his phone into his nightstand's drawer.

"Yours too." Ritsu said, holding his hand out. Masamune didn't argue, forking his phone over and letting Ritsu put it away before pouncing on him again.

"I love you." Masamune said between pressing kisses to Ritsu's neck.

Ritsu flushed, the red reaching the tips of his ears as he tightly screwed his fingers into the back of Masamune's shirt. He hoped Masamune couldn't feel his frantic pulse against his lips (Masamune definitely could as he gave that spot extra attention).

"I love you too."

#onodera ritsu #sekaiichi hatsukoi #takano masamune #takaritsuweek #fanfiction

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elliestormfound · 4 years

Note

okay, prompt, I'm happy for you to change any detail of this because it might be too complicated? lmao. So, Jaskier is rummaging about Geralt's things when he's been told not to. He 'thinks' he breaks one of Geralts weapons, and is in a total panic all day about it not wanting to mention and trying to hide it? Turns out it's just something Geralt has modified to the weapon so that when someone touches it they can't use it? like to stop people touching/stealing his things? haha.

thank you @hailhailsatan for this wonderful prompt! I had to think about it for a bit. It was fun to write! Sorry, I had to make it fluffy and it got kind of long...

read on ao3

---------

Jaskier knew he was in trouble.

Geralt had left two hours ago to take care of a nekker nest and because the bard had seen him fight nekkers at least a dozen times by now, he had opted out to stay at their campsite. Imagining a relaxed day, lounging on his bedroll in the sun and working on a song or two.

But he couldn’t find his quill, even after he had emptied out all of his bags on the forest floor. Maybe it had gotten into one of Geralt’s bags?

The witcher had told him numerous times not to touch his stuff. “Don’t touch Roach”, “don’t touch my swords”, “don’t touch my clothes” and “don’t touch my bags”. And Jaskier tried. But it was hard for someone who liked to share everything. Not that he just took from others, he loved to share his belongings, a warm blanket on a cold evening, the dried fruit he had bought on the last market they visited or his lavender soap.

And Jaskier knew Geralt had good reasons to tell him not to go through his belongings. A few weeks ago Jaskier had been thirsty in the night. Standing up to walk to the nearby stream had felt too much of an effort, so he had rummaged around in Geralt’s bag for his water bottle and in the second he placed it on his lips, Gerlat, who had been asleep a moment ago, had slapped it out of his hands.

“The fuck, Jaskier”, Geralt had grumbled angrily, “what do you think you are doing?”

Confused the bard had replied, “I just wanted a sip of water.”

“That’s not water, you idiot, that is griffin decoction, one sip could kill you.”

Jaskier had just stared at the witcher with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“Don’t think, ask me next time,” Geralt had growled.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Jaskier had said in a small voice.

“You drinking poison and choking to death would definitely have bothered me more than you waking me for water. I told you not to touch my stuff,” the witcher had said, thrusting the actual water bottle in his hands.

But today Jaskier’s head was full of words and phrases and melodies he had to write down before they would escape. And for that he needed his quill. So he had very carefully opened one of Geralt’s bags, not reaching in, just looking. When he did not see a trace of a quill he moved on to the next bag. There was something silvery glittering in the morning light, just like the nib of his quill. Very carefully he reached in the bag, trying not to touch anything else. His hand closed around something he instantly knew was not his quill. But he had touched it already, so it wouldn’t hurt to have a look at it, would it now?

To his surprise Jaskier pulled a beautiful dagger out of the bag. The hilt lay comfortably in his hand as if it had been made for him, wrapped in soft leather for a better grip. The sheath was made of sturdy dark red leather with an intricate floral pattern. From farther away it would not stand out, would look nothing special, but Jaskier could see and feel that it was of high quality and only in close proximity did the floral pattern show it’s full beauty. Jaskier looked closely, carefully tracing the pattern with his finger and after a moment he was sure that it was a stylized depiction of buttercups. Very slowly he drew the dagger out, revealing a beautiful silver blade, reflecting the sun in his eyes. There were words carved into the blade. He angled the blade to have a better view and as his finger touched the gleaming silver to trace the words, the blade crumbled to dust - to his utter horror.

He drew in a shaky breath as he watched the dust drift down and - caught by the wind - disappearing. His eyes were wide and his mouth formed a perfect o as the shock settled in. The knife looked to be expensive, probably custom made and he had just single handedly destroyed it with the touch of his finger.

He was fucked. Jaskier knew Geralt would be furious. This was not an accident, but he had deliberately opened Geralt’s bags against his explicit command and touched one of his belongings, also against his explicit commands.

Would this be the straw that broke the camel's back? Would Geralt now send him away for good? Cold dread creeped down his neck. Should he put the hilt and sheath back into the bag and pretend nothing had happened? Should he tell Geralt directly at his arrival? Should he wait till Geralt was in a good mood? When was Geralt ever in a good mood? Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He stood petrified for a while, like a deer caught in headlights, not able to decide what to do.

Then he heard it, footsteps. Geralt was returning. Jaskier whirled around facing the witcher, hiding his hands with the evidence behind his back. He plastered on a (hopefully) cheery smile and said louder than intended, “Geralt, you are back early!”

“There were only a few nekkers,” the witcher replied, who was cleaner than expected after a fight.

Jaskier could practically feel the suspicious gaze burning on his skin as Geralt beheld his unusual arm positioning. The witcher narrowed his eyes, “what are you holding there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Jaskier stammered, “nothing of importance. Ahm, tell me everything about the fight, how many nekker were there?”

But Geralt was not distracted and just growled, “Jaskier…”

The bard started to sweat, “you know, it was not really my fault, I just had a teeny tiny look into your saddlebags…” his voice got quieter with every word, “and I might have...ahhhm, broke something…” He looked down, cheeks red.

The bard heard the witcher approach and breath in deeply. Now would be the moment he would tell him to pack his bags and leave, to never bother the witcher again. His stomach felt like it was clenched in a cold angry fist.

But Geralt stayed silent and after a moment the bard looked up. He did not look particularly angry...not more than usual, and he had his head tilted.

A moment later the witcher said, “it’s the dagger, isn’t it?” and turned away as if nothing had happened. Jaskier still did not move, looking at Geralt, who just went around camp in his usual after-fight-routine. Unstrapping his swords from his back and setting them down next to his bedroll, drinking a few gulps from his water bottle, cramming some dried meat in his mouth and getting a rag to clean off the few bits of nekker guts that had landed on his armour.

Jaskier let his arms fall to the side and said, “aren’t you going to say anything? Yell at me?”

“You want me to yell at you?” Geralt asked.

“No, I’m...ahm… quite okay with not being yelled at.”

“It’s your birthday present you managed to destroy, so you should be the one angry,” the witcher said.

“What?” the bard’s mouth hung open and when Geralt raised an eyebrow at him he continued, “birthday present? But….I thought you didn’t know when my birthday is.” Geralt just stared at him. “You told me three times in the last month,” Geralt said, “I don’t forget that easily.”

Jaskier looked from Geralt to the hilt and sheath in his hands, eyes still wide and damper than a minute ago. “And you got me a present,” his voice was barely audible, “and I just broke it…”

With a sigh the witcher walked over. Jaskier could not bear to look him in the eyes, his own glued to the broken dagger. With the next breath he could barely suppress a sob. Geralt was in front of him and then Jaskier felt Geralt’s hand on his, the one holding the hilt and slowly lifting it. “Jaskier, look at me,” the witcher said softly.

Jaskier looked up and a single tear ran down his cheek. “Just take a deep breath,” Geralt said in his deep voice, “nothing is broken.”

Jaskier did as instructed and Geralt carried on, “you did not break the dagger. You demonstrated how well it works.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what…”

“I brought this dagger and asked Yen to put a defensive charm on it,” Geralt said, “ it can only be used by the ones I imprint on it, so it cannot be used against you in a fight if someone managed to take it.” Jaskier just looked at his witcher in awe. He had not expected the witcher to even remember his birthday let alone buy him a gift, especially not such a thoughtful, beautiful and expensive one.

“I planned to give it to you on your birthday next week and to imprint it, so you can use it.” Geralt was still holding his hand and that was somehow grounding Jaskier.

“But…” he managed to say in a small voice, “I already broke it…”

“Yen thought about that, with a simple spell it can be revived,” Geralt said, “that is also how the imprint happens. It has to be broken to be imprinted on someone new.”

Geralt took the sheath from him and said, “put both of your hands around the hilt.” As Jaskier had done this, Geralt covered the bard’s hands with his. He breathed in deep and said a few words that sounded like elder speech, but Jaskier could not quite catch them. With a strong scent of magic small whirlwind started to dance above their hands and after a moment the silver blade was back, gleaming in the sun as if nothing had happened. Jaskier’s smile stretched from ear to ear.

“Geralt, that’s amazing, I have to thank Yen as well!”

Geralt chuckled and slowly took his hands away from Jaskier’s. Then he had to take a few steps back because Jaskier swished the blade around a bit. With a cheeky smile the bard drew his hands with the blade carefully to his chest as if to hug the degger.

“Geralt, this is an absolutely amazing present, but wasn’t it… ahm … a bit too expensive?” He looked anxiously at the witcher.

“A cheap dagger would only cause more trouble than it would help,” Geralt grumbled, looking away from the cornflower blue eyes beaming at him.

Jaskier took a few steps towards the witcher, took the sheath from his hands and pushed the blade safely back in. A moment later he threw his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly. After a moment Geralt sighed and also wrapped his arms around the bard and murmurd, “happy birthday, buttercup.”

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

What Lives Beneath Our Skin | Feysand x everyone

Customarily, I will post a oneshot when I am between multi-chapter fics, like a sort of palette cleaner and to give them space to breathe a little. My last fic was a soft and fluffy teenage thing, and so I felt the need to write something dark and twisty and utterly the opposite for this spacer. Apologies to those who joined my tag list during the last fic and came here for the cutes😅 CW: trauma, drug use, abusive relationships, orgy, smut oh lord the smut.

Feyre thought that once she left Tamlin she'd feel free, and in many ways of course she did. In other ways, she felt completely, desolately alone.

It was not all as simple as people made it out to be. In an abusive and traumatic relationship, she had also left behind a life, a lovely house, more comfort and stability that she had ever had in her life. And the only friend she had in the world. Yes it was the right thing to do, but Feyre had loved Tamlin, and the way he had plucked her out of her grey and meagre existence beforehand.

So now that she was in her own apartment, with its clean white walls and soft white sheets, she knew it was the right decision. But the future stretched out before her like an empty desert. Gone was the fear, the anxiety, the walking on eggshells, the anger, the screaming into her pillow until her throat felt like glass. Gone was the make-up sex, the apologies under his tongue, the extravagant gifts, the promises of a paradise-life, the addictive intensity of when he said he couldn't live without her, and she believed him. The silence rang in her ears and she had not one soul she could call to fill it. Tamlin had made sure of that.

Over the weeks after her departure, Feyre wandered the grocery aisles, took walks in the park, and packed her few belongings away. By the end of the month, Feyre was so numb she wondered whether she would ever feel anything again. Wondered whether maybe this was the price she paid for falling for Tamlin, and for leaving him. And then a guy on the street handed her a flyer for an underground nightclub, and she thought, fuck it. Sure the whole scene was obnoxious and depraved, but maybe the volume might drown out the white noise in her head.

And that's how Feyre found herself standing outside Ramiel, a club she had not known existed twenty four hours ago. She thought she might be nervous, standing out here in the cold, the bass already lapping at her from inside. But instead, she just felt nothing. Had felt nothing all day, even as she pulled on a short black dress with long sleeves and cut outs over the torso, that Tamlin would have forbade her to wear because he hated it when men looked at her, and that Feyre previously had come to feel shame for. But she'd never thrown it away, and now she was wearing it into a thick crowd of people in the hopes that she might feel something, anything at all. Feyre pushed open the door, and the sound swept over her like a tidal wave.

Inside, everything was not so much a sensory overload as a sensory avalanche. Coloured lights pulsed with the throb of the music, and the smell of smoke machines and a hundred sweaty dancers reached toward Feyre with clawing fingers. She made a beeline to the bar, and swallowed a shot before ordering another.

"Rough night?"

The voice filtered through the chaos. Feyre turned and found a young man leaning against the bar, his head cocked and his smile bright. Feyre tried to smile back, and couldn't quite remember how.

"Rough year," she said, settling for a grimace. The man stepped closer, wearing a singlet and tight jeans, and gold bands on his arms that glittered against his dark skin. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Are you here with anyone?" "No," Feyre said. "I don't know anyone." "Well, you can know me if you like. My name is Helion." "Feyre," she replied. Helion picked up his drink and they clinked their glasses together. Helion watched as Feyre downed hers without flinching. His eyes were gentle. "You're not doing so well, are you?" he asked. Feyre shrugged. "Is anyone?" "Fair enough. What did you come here for?" Feyre barked a hard laugh. "To feel. Anything." Helion didn't answer for a while. Then he said, "Okay. You need to meet Rhysand."

Helion took her hand and led her to the dancefloor. Feyre didn't protest, just trailed after him and wondered if the press of other human bodies might spark anything back to life in her.

"There," Helion shouted near her ear. "Go dance with him," he said, and pointed her to a black-haired man in the middle of the crowd.

"Aren't I dancing with you?" Feyre shouted back. Helion grinned. "Dance with all of us, honey!" And then he pushed her toward Rhys.

Rhys, at least who Feyre assumed was Rhys, was dressed in black and dancing with his eyes closed. With his golden-brown skin, thick raven hair, and sharp cheekbones, he might well have been the most beautiful man Feyre had ever seen. He had his hands on the hips of another handsome man with white hair and dark skin, who at this moment had his mouth on Rhys' neck. Then Rhys opened his eyes, and without taking his hands from the man he was dancing with, locked his gaze with Feyre's.

Feyre didn't quite know what to do. She stood there awkwardly in the throng of dancers, and then Helion reappeared next to her.

"Oh," he said. "And, take this." He pressed a round, white pill to Feyre's lips, and she opened for him and swallowed. Helion disappeared again, and now Rhys was extending one hand to her. She walked toward him, and the other man looked up at her too. When she touched Rhys' hand, he pulled her between him and the other man, and settled her hands around his neck.

"Hello," he said. It didn't sound like he was shouting, but Feyre could somehow hear him perfectly. "Friend of Helion's are you?" "Sort of," Feyre replied. Rhys hadn't stopped dancing, and she began to move with him now. The man behind her glided his hands down her arms, and began to move up behind her.

"I'm Rhys," Rhys said, "And this is Tarquin." "I'm Feyre," she said, glancing back at Tarquin. "Hello Feyre," Tarquin said in her ear. "Would you like to make out with us?" Feyre looked nervously back at Rhys, and then said, "Sure." So Rhys kissed her with his mouth open, and his tongue tasted like citrus and the sea.

It took a second, it was not an immediate thing like so much thunder and lightning. But rather, her body woke slow like molten rock as Rhys kissed her, the heat pooling in her stomach and snaking lazily down her limbs until she was full of it, and then she opened her eyes and found Rhys staring at her, pupils blown wide and something like stars in the liquid black of them. And in hindsight, that was the moment Feyre would remember that she felt everything, and the numbness that had surrounded her for the past few weeks fell away at her feet.

It wasn't that she felt okay again, it wasn't that she felt whole or happy or healed. But she felt: felt Rhys' hands at her back and the solidity of his chest beneath her fingers, and now there was Tarquin gripping her hips and breathing against her neck, and then Helion found them and he had one hand beneath Feyre's hair and the other in Rhys' back pocket. So she leaned in, wanted everything, and her skin came alive and at least in this moment, she was in her body and not floating twenty feet above it all. And then the little pill Helion had given her kicked in and the night began to speed past in flashes like the strobe lights of the club dictated time itself. It could have been ten seconds or ten hours, Feyre didn't know and really, truly did not care.

One: Tarquin was grinding into her backside, and the movement was pushing her up against Rhys, who had his thigh planted between her legs. She could feel them everywhere- one behind her and one in front, covering every inch of her skin and making her so over-sensitised she was shivering between them.

Two: Rhys had pulled away from her to kiss Tarquin over her shoulder, but now Helion was pulling her chin toward him. His teeth were very white against his dark skin, and sharp against her bottom lip. The pain of it was delicious.

Three: Tarquin's hands had found the cutouts in her dress, and his fingers were skating over the patches of bare skin there, while Rhys was cupping her ass and pulling her against the hardness that was now pressing below her navel. Helion was massaging the back of Rhys' neck, and his mouth had not left Feyre's. The spiral tension inside her wound tighter.

Four: Three new people appeared, Feyre did not remember when or where they came from, but someone told her their names were Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel. At first, they stood in their own group and Feyre stayed with hers. But then Feyre was being handed to them and she had Cassian on her left and Azriel on her right, Cassian's lips on her shoulder and Azriel's hands on her hips. Mor stood in front of her, and cupped her face with so much gentleness before she kissed her.

Five: Rhys had yanked her back to him, but now Azriel stood behind him and Rhys had one of his arms curled up around Azriel's neck as he licked his way up toward Rhys' ear. Cassian came up behind Feyre so she and Rhys were sandwiched behind the two newcomers. He scraped his teeth in the join of her neck and shoulder.The crush of the dancers surrounding them all pushed them even closer together, and Feyre's thoughts swirled in her head.

Six: They were in a car now, although Feyre didn't remember leaving the club. Suddenly it was quieter, and darker. There seemed to be a lot of room- were they in a limo?- which allowed for all six of them to be seated together, hands and mouths wandering, Mor's giggle floating above them and Rhys' hand firmly on her leg the whole time, bumping up a little higher every time the car jostled them. Helion's white smile stayed behind her eyelids like spots after a bright light.

Seven: They were back at someone's house, Helion's maybe. They were piling into his room, shoes were being dropped on the floor, shirts were being pulled over heads. His bed was the most enormous thing Feyre had ever seen. Helion pushed Rhys toward it first, and as Rhys slid up toward the pillows he grabbed Feyre and took her with him. Cassian followed, and as Feyre turned the glow in his eyes as he stalked toward her set her heart racing.

Eight: Feyre was now on top of Rhys, and wasn't sure where everyone else was but knew they were all naked by this point. Rhys was moving her over his cock, Cassian was licking her out from behind. Pleasure bloomed in her chest, for the first time in a very long time. Azriel has his lips on Feyre's nipple while Mor sucked him off. Helion had his fingers inside Mor, and his dick in Tarquin's mouth. Tarquin's hand squeezed over her ass.

Nine: Everyone had moved enough times that Feyre had lost all track of who was where, except that Rhys was with her. Was currently fucking her from behind, while she kissed someone she was pretty sure was Mor. Then someone else had their fingers over her clit, Mor was beginning to breathe eratically into her mouth like someone else was getting her off. She thought she could pick out Cassian's groan but she didn't know where he might be or who might be causing it. She did know that someone was now lightly rubbing her asshole, and she was about to climax.

Ten: Rhys came on her back, and then someone else was pushing into her, Tarquin maybe, pounding her while Rhys slid under her and the fingers that had been on her clit were replaced by his tongue. She came in shudders, for what felt like ages, and then collapsed, Tarquin sliding out of her and fucking Helion instead. Feyre lost track of them, then Rhys was there wiping her off with a towel and pulling her into his arms. Feyre started to fade in and out of consciousness, but could hear others find their release too and start slowing down as well.

When Feyre next opened her eyes, time was moving normally again. Rhys was slowly stroking up and down her arm, and around her, the others slept. There was someone lying behind her, someone lying across the bed at her feet, someone behind Rhys. Helion's bed fit them all.

"So what are you running from?" Rhys asked her, very quietly. "How do you know I'm running?" Feyre asked. "Helion has a way of finding lost souls and trying to help them get some human connection." Feyre was quiet for a moment.

"I have... nightmares. Bad dreams when I'm asleep, and absolutely nothing when I'm awake. Just horrible silence." "And do your nightmares have a name?" Rhys asked. "Yes," Feyre said. "His name is Tamlin. I know the worst is over, but it's like he's still getting to me." "I have nightmares too," Rhys said. "Sometimes, I come here and when I'm surrounded by all these people I don't dream." "What are your nightmares called?" Rhys breathed in deeply, and then back out. "Aramantha," was all he said.

****

Well, I hate to not give you a happy ending but I'm sure you can extrapolate from there. Feyre will call Rhys sometime in the daytime, and being with him alone will be crazy intense but also so grounding for her. And they will both get better.

Anyway this was a super different type of thing for me, from the content to the style so... I hope you still got something out of it.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @asteria-of-mars

MASTERLIST

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acomaf #dark #smut #mine

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oneoftheextras · 4 years

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Caged | two

Alpha!Villain!All Might x Omega!Reader

masterlist | tip jar

A lovely and generous reader gave me a Tip to write a second part to my Alpha Villain All Might/Toshinori story so here we are. Thank you so much for helping me support myself while writing, it really means a lot!

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut and breeding kink

Part 1 |

When you awoke you were alone, the sunlight peaking through the tatty blinds covering each window and highlighting the specs of dust that floated through the almost empty room.

You were lying on your side on a very uncomfortable couch, a couch that you vaguely remembered falling asleep on in the first place. A light knitted blanket covered your naked body, but you were already sweating.

A twinge of pain in your lower abdomen triggered your memory of the night before, the realisation of where you were and who this house belonged to hit you like leaves on a train track - all of a sudden and had you flying into the air.

Once your feet were on the ground you used the blanket to shamefully cover yourself, just in case someone was lurking in one of the few rooms of the building and happened upon your nude self.

You needed a cold shower, you felt the disgusting hue of sweat coating your skin from your premature heat, normally you would have everything set out and planned ahead so you were ready for it - you weren’t expecting it so early.

Roaming the bottom floor, you opened every door you saw in an attempt to find the bathroom. You found what seemed to be a home gym and storage room, at least that’s what you’d say if you had to guess, there was a bunch of work out machines alongside multiple opened boxes filled with random stuff - there were trophies, clothes, a games console, there didn’t seem to be any form of organisation.

Feeling the dust tickle your nose you decided to close the door again and leave it be, if you were to disturb anything he would surely know.

There wasn’t much to the downstairs of Toshinori’s house, the living room took up most of the space, and the kitchen area being added to it eliminated another room.

Cautiously you moved to the bottom of the stairs, staring up at the steep steps, you collected as much of the blanket as you could into your hands and started walking up them, you didn’t want to trip so you took your time.

Upstairs wasn’t as open as downstairs, there were multiple doors leading to various rooms, you didn’t know where to start. It was now occurring to you that you were being very rude and nosy, but you didn’t care you wanted a shower.

This was the house of a notorious villain, known for destroying buildings and murdering innocent people, you realised you needed to stop delaying and get out of this place as quickly as you could.

You thanked your lucky stars that he hadn’t killed you when he found you in his house the night before, he could have done so easily but had spared you for some reason. You weren’t about to start questioning the motives behind his motives and just be thankful that you’re alive.

Opening each door to peak inside you eventually found the bathroom, it was very simple: clean white tiles, glass shower, a toilet and a sink. You couldn’t help but feel like this man lived a very basic life - the house was not a home but definitely had potential.

Hopping into the shower you allowed the water to run over your aching body, only now could you feel how much it hurt. There were tiny purple bruises littered around your hip bones and waist, yet another reminder of the night before.

The water helped you to feel cleaner but there wasn’t much you could do about the aching in your bones and stomach, your skin craved the warm feeling of a gentle touch.

Normally you would use your heated blanket in your own bedroom, but you were far from home and the damp towel wrapped around your body was nothing in comparison to it.

Then it hit you, the only clothes you had were your work clothes and they were drenched in sweat. You wandered out of the bathroom in search for some clothes, Toshinori had forced your heat to come early, the least he could do was make you feel comfortable. You were sure he wouldn’t notice some clothes missing.

Earlier when you were snooping around you’d found, what you would assume to be, the master bedroom. The bed was huge with dark grey sheets, the size was probably to accommodate his large form, you remembered how he towered over you, he was easily twice your own size.

The thought made goosebumps crawl across your skin, now was not the time to indulge in such thoughts, you needed to get dressed and leave as quickly as possible.

You made your way over to a huge mirrored closet and slid the door to the side, there were a few pieces of clothing hanging up but they all looked the same.

Some were ginormous and some were average size, there was a black hoodie that seemed tailored to his muscular body that you had to resist the temptation to snuggle into.

Instead you found a plain white top and a pair of green combat trousers, they were a bit baggy on you but it was enough to get you home.

As soon as you pulled the fabric over your head you realised your mistake, even though it was clean the remaining smell of his cologne entered your nostrils and consumed you.

That familiar smell of caramel and oak wood filled your entire being, and you felt a cold sweat start to break out on your forehead as you started to shake. Determined to get threw this and out of the house, you pulled it down over your chest and stomach.

You reached a hand out to grab the pants you’d seen hanging up but your attention was drawn to the hoodie, you tried your best to concentrate but your body deceived you. Before you knew it you were slipping the hoodie off of it’s hanger and bringing it up to your face.

The fabric was soft to the touch and the smell was beyond amazing, he must have worn this recently and then put it back in the closet. You wondered what other things he had worn recently that had his Alpha scent on it.

Ten minutes went by and you’d pulled out half a dozen items of clothing that were now laying on the bed, you’d somehow managed to find a big metal basket at the end of the bed that had a variety of blankets in it, all of which you had confiscated.

You organised them into a messy circle on top of the plush mattress and wrapped a particularly fluffy blanket around you, strangely it was helping your sweat. You were fully aware that you were nesting in a villain’s home, but you couldn’t stop.

Never before had you had an Alpha around during your heat, normally you would go through it alone in your apartment, you’d dabbled in the idea of going out to quench the urges you had but you knew better than to go to a bar smelling like a desperate Omega. That was how you would get yourself killed.

Now that you’d had the taste of an Alpha you were thirsty, like you hadn’t drank water in three weeks, your lips were chapped and your throat yearned for him.

Cuddling up to the black hoodie you had found, you were starting to whine, you were both uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time - the nest gave you physical comfort but you wanted more, you wanted him back.

All plans to leave had gone out of the window, you needed to be satisfied in ways that suppressants couldn’t control and toys wouldn’t come close to.

Almost as if on call, the bedroom door swung open and Toshinori stared at your small body curled up in a pile of his clothes and blankets. You hadn’t heard the front door open or any footsteps coming up the stairs, you were so wrapped up in controlling your inner urges.

As soon as you caught scent of him your eyes shot open and towards where he was standing, he looked nervous, scared - concerned? You weren’t sure, your eyes wouldn’t focus properly, but you needed him.

“I came as quickly as I could” he said breathing heavily, he too was sweating, “How did-” you started but couldn’t finish, you wanted to ask him what he meant but couldn’t form the words.

“I don’t know, I just had a feeling that you needed me” he explained, he too was confused, “Let me take care of you” he commanded, puffing his chest out and transforming into the figure you knew as All Smite.

“N-No!” you whined reaching a hand out for him, he was half way across the room to you when he stopped, the look of hurt on his face said it all - me must have thought you didn’t want him at all.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, you wanted him, very very badly. But this wasn’t him, this was All Smite, a villain. You wanted to Toshinori you knew, the thin blonde man that never failed to put a smile on your face while your work day was dragging you down.

“Not like that” you clarified, your eyes were starting to water, it felt like if he didn’t hold you within the next couple of seconds then your body would crumble into a pile of dust.

He was stumped, he opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it again, “This isn’t you, I want you” you begged him. You started to emerge from your clothing fort you’d made to get closer to him, you were afraid that if you tried to stand your legs would fail you so you shimmied your way to the end of the bed.

“This is me” he said glancing down at his muscular body bewildered. You shook your head furiously and muttered out a “Please”, finally you were able to meet his blue eyes and you noticed the twinkle of realisation hit him and a small pink blush paint over his nose.

White steam seeped from every part of his body until you weren’t able to see him through the cloud of fog, desperately you wanted to see him again, you reached your hand out into the smoke to find him when you felt his hand clasp around yours.

At the feeling of physical contact your skin felt as though it was set on fire and spread quickly from your hand all the way through your body and down to your toes.

Gently he pulled you up towards him so you were up against his chest, you allowed yourself to snuggle into his warmth more and it made you feel complete.

Softly he put his hand under your jaw and lifted your face to look up at him, he seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you brought yourself up to the crevice of his neck so you could brush your nose against his scent gland.

A quiet growl came from him when you made contact making you stop for a second to check that it was okay to continue, twisting your head to glance up at him he hastily took the opportunity to kiss you, sealing your lips with his passionately.

One kiss turned into two and two turned into two dozen, all the while he pushed you back up the bed and towards the nest you’d made. You pushed clothes aside to make room for your guest without breaking contact with him, every kiss stoked the fire that was burning in you.

Finally he released your lips so he could pull his top up over his head and you made sure to grab it and add it to the pile before it even touched the ground. He chuckled at your actions with blown out lust-filled eyes and started to undo his jeans.

That’s when you realised that you never got around to putting on any pants of your own, you were wearing only his white top.

You allowed your body to slowly recline until you felt the soft mattress touch your back, at this point Toshinori had finished undressing himself so you could admire his fully naked form.

It wasn’t as muscular as his bigger figure but his muscles were still defined, he was leaner but still very strong. He didn’t give you much time to inspect him before he crawled on top of you and continued his assault on your lips.

Hooking your hands around his neck, you pulled his head towards you so you could deepen the kiss - you were so full of his embrace that it made you jump when you felt one of his fingers brush against your entrance.

His hand retracted at you flinching and he stopped kissing you so he could reassure you “I’ll be gently today, I promise” he smiled, looking deep into your eyes, regardless of how he treated you the night before you whole-heartedly believed him.

“Are you sore?” he asked, moving his head so he could place gentle kisses on your neck, “Mhmmm” you nodded as you felt his fingers glide through your folds, you were impatient.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough” he kissed, pushing one finger slowly into you as though you were made of glass and any quick movements would shatter you. Moaning softly, you gripped onto the back of his head and moved your legs further apart to give him room.

He slid his finger in and out of you at a painfully steady pace, you whined in between moans and thrust your hips towards him to let him know you wanted more.

You felt him chuckle against your neck as he pulled his finger out of you, the warm breath against your skin made your whole body tingle, “Okay, okay” he said as though he was scorning you for not being patient enough.

That’s when you felt the smooth head of his cock push your lips aside, as he promised, he pushed himself into you; forcing your walls to clench wildly around him for something to grip onto.

You relished in the deep groan that came out of his mouth and splashed against your ear, it was so quiet that you probably wouldn’t have heard it if all your senses weren’t giving him your complete undivided attention.

“Please” you begged again, hardly able to control yourself, you wanted every part of him and you wanted it now. Slowly at first, he pulled himself nearly all the way out of you and then almost as carefully, he pushed all the way back in. You could feel every bump and vein of his cock brushing against your insides and it felt wonderful.

Once he had found his pace, you wrapped your legs around his waist and hooked your feet together to deepen the angle, you weren’t proud of the noises that were coming from you.

He tried to continue kissing your neck and jaw line but his own need took over, making his thrusts faster and more erratic and his kisses were just the same. He sloppily let his bottom lip rest against your skin in an attempt to keep the contact, but all you could feel was the exhales from his pants and that was just as blissful.

Using the heel of your foot, you matched his pace, pulling him harder so he could fully sheath himself inside of you, it didn’t take long for his gentle pace to fade into hard and melodically thrusts.

You didn’t even attempt to conceal your screams, you wanted him to hear what he was doing to you - his right hand roamed in search for yours as he kept up the relentless pace that he had set.

The headboard of his bed was thumping against the wall in rhythm with him, eventually he found your hand and entwined his fingers with yours and let them rest on the pillow above your head.

Attempting to do the same with the other, you started to feel his knot forming, something that you’d been thinking about all day. It pushed against your entrance hard as though each thrust was making it knock and ask for your permission.

You felt Toshinori’s teeth against your neck as he grit them, in one particularly strong thrust, his knot pushed itself inside of you and stretched you even more.

Sure, he wasn’t in his muscle form, but he was definitely still hung.

Almost instinctively, he gripped your throat in between his teeth and bit down sharply, you yelped as you felt the pain rocket through your neck and jaw. He didn’t let go immediately, he continued to hold your flesh in his mouth as he thrust into you. He was like a wild animal that had finally caught it’s prey after hours of stalking and chasing.

Eventually, he released your skin and continued to kiss where he had marked you, you were unsure why he had mated with you - why would the number one feared villain in the whole of Japan want to mate with you, a barista.

That was until he started to speak “I’ve wanted to make you mine for so long Omega” he grunted while he pumped himself into you even faster, your head spinning as he called you by your title “I’m going to fill you up completely, do you want that?” he huffed, lifting himself up so he could look upon your face.

With every sentence he said, you felt your orgasm creeping up as though his words were coaxing it out of hiding, your clit tingled with delight, you were so close.

You sloppily nodded your head as he pinned your other hand above your head, “I’m going to fill your belly with my seed until your body has no choice but to carry my pups” he told you, everything he was saying made you moan even more, you wanted everything he said and more.

His thrusts became off beat, the rhythm was gone, just a few more thrusts until you felt him spill himself inside you, triggering your own orgasm. You both rode out your blissful high together as he rested his forehead against you own and the last couple of drops entered you.

Panting, you laid there unmoving, not because you didn’t want to but because his knot wouldn’t allow you. He let go of your hands and held you against his chest, he rolled onto his back and in turn pulled you on top of him, cock still fully inside you and very very hard.

“Did you mean it? What you said?” you asked breathlessly, he looked down at your tired and sweat covered body, “About wanting you for a long time?” he clarified and you nodded.

Pushing a strand of your hair out of your face, he smiled “Yeah, you didn’t think I really liked that crappy coffee, did you?” he laughed, making your head bounce along with his chest. You lifted you head so you could give him an offended look.

“I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my Omega, I just never knew how to approach you, and then you practically fell into my lap” he explained, it was a weird and unconventional way for someone to find their soulmate but you were just happy you’d found him.

There was still something nagging in the back of your mind, he was a villain, how did you know he wouldn’t abandon you. Almost as though he had read your mind he kissed you on the forehead, “I’m here now, and I wont let anyone or anything hurt you - especially not me” his eyes were full of adoration for you.

“I prefer you like this” you stated, poking a finger into his ribs making him flinch, “Like this huh?” he smirked, putting his arms around your torso and slowly moving his still hard cock out of you and then back in again.

It was clear he was a man of his word and truly wasn’t done with you, “I’m glad” he smiled, it was a genuine smile, one full of love and pure happiness. Something told you he would indeed keep you safe, and you would be the one to show him how loved he truly was.

Tag List:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest

#all might x reader #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all smite #all smite x reader #villain!allmight x reader #villain all might #caged part 2

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alia-turin · 3 years

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Finally chapter 6! This is actually the only fic I will continue updating on this blog, everything else will go to my writing blog and once that is finished, everything goes there.

I’m sorry for the slow update, yesterday and the day before were a bit buy and stressful so I didn’t have a chance to update.

Fic Title: Somewhere in Time (Chapter 6) Previous Chapters: Somewhere in Time - Caranthir/F!OC - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Fandom: The Witcher (Aen Elle) Pairing: Caranthir/F/OC Warning: Canon typical violence for this chapter, mention of scars, angst AO3 Link

It had been a few days since he came to the Winter tower after the reception. He spent his time reading and experimenting. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, the few moments when he had been close to her and with her, the way her eyes had looked at him...he wanted to forget, but the more he tried to do it the worse it became.

He felt as if he was becoming obsessive and probably he was. Last time he came here she had been in Tir na Lia behind a door he had enchanted so she could not leave. He had missed her, but he knew exactly where she was. Now it was different. She could be anywhere, with anybody. He still could use the tracking spell but he had also told himself that he was the one to let her go, he would not chase her unless she was in need of him.

Somewhere deep he knew that his behavior was probably wrong, putting spells and curses on her so he knew what was going on, but what choice did he have? The first woman he ever liked died because he didn’t pay enough attention, his only example of true love in his life was a story everyone probably knew, ending in a great tragedy. He neither wanted to see her death nor was going to allow his heart to be shattered, not the way Avallac’h’s had been.

He had gone as far as to dig information on her family which wasn’t that difficult, noble families record keeping was exceptional. Mother was never mentioned, even Aine’s name was not mentioned anywhere officially which made sense, half human bastards were not really a popular topic. Her father had only one legal child, a son, not surprising either, elves rarely had more. The man had a lot of resources, which explained a lot. That was when he had stopped looking, realizing how ridiculous and obsessive his actions had been. He knew a lot about her, some of it not even disclosed by her, and he had volunteered little to nothing about himself.

Caranthir suddenly stopped in the middle of the room feeling the unpleasant sensation going through his body, he had felt that once before, he was younger and he cast a spell he was not ready for, every inch of his body had cramped at the same time. Then feeling the sharp pain in his right leg as if something was ripping him apart, skin muscle and probably even bone hurt in a way he had never felt before. He had to steady himself by grabbing a chair because the pain was so bad he could barely stand on his leg. Took him a second to pull himself together, nothing was wrong with his leg, that was the curse he put on himself in order to feel what she was feeling, but the pain was so bad he felt dizzy. He had to remind himself it wasn’t his leg that was hurting it was all in his mind.

“Aine…” he whispered as he finally managed to get his thoughts together, he had been injured many times, but that was a level he had never felt, worse if he was feeling it that bad, it meant it felt the same for her. Caranthir opened a portal and it took him just a second to find himself where she was, in the woods where he had first seen her. She was on the ground, her back pressed against a tree, her right leg bleeding and two ugly creatures coming close to her, both of them standing on their hind legs, beastly claws sticking out of their limbs, Caranthir saw a third one lying on the ground, vines pulling him deeper and the earth, she must have cast a spell, that was the first jolt he had felt, spell too powerful for her at her current level. He waved his hand and the two creatures turned into ice sculptures, he cast another spell and they broke into dust.

“Caranthir…” she looked at him in fear and shock, her leg bleeding badly and just now he noticed her arm was also injured, strange he had not felt that probably because of the shock going through her body. Her eyes were glassy, not really focused on anything. He cast a healing spell, those were never his strongest point, but it was enough for now to stop the bleeding and he was going to take care of the rest later.

“Don’t move.” his heart sank seeing how bad the wound was. Skin and flesh had been torn but he could not see the bone, which was probably positive. He wasn’t going to waste time, he took her in his arms and opened a portal.

“I don’t want to...leave me…” she tried to push herself away from him but there was no strength in her body.

He stepped through the portal and found himself in his bedroom in the Winter Tower. He left her gentle on his bed, her face wincing in pain as soon as he let go of her. He tore the pants she was wearing around the wound. Silly girl, she should have listened to him when he told her not to leave. For a second he wondered if that was his fault - did he push her too far and she left because of him, and if he had acted in a different way, she wouldn’t have left and that wouldn’t have happened...

“No, stop.” Somehow she found strength to try to push him away, but even if she was not injured she was not as strong as he was. Caranthir placed his palm on her leg and cast his spell again, the wound slowly closing not even leaving a scar. Aine’s eyes however still lacked focus, she had lost too much blood and he couldn’t do anything about that. .

“Get off me.” she moaned in his bed. Caranthir raised an eyebrow as he had stepped away, he wasn’t anywhere near her, he needed to go to his lab for some herbs that could help her. She was delirious, he went back to the bed and touched her forehead burning with fever. The creatures that attacked her were unfamiliar to him, and he wondered if their claws were poisonous. A chilling thought crossed his mind. That couldn’t be happening to him not again. This time he did everything right. He prepared he knew he would be there if she was in danger and he was but he had been moments too late.

He rushed out of the room, running down the stairs to his lab and frantically started going through all his herbs and potions. Healing wasn’t a matter that interested him, he had very few things that could help, but he grabbed everything he could. When he walked back to his bedroom she was attempting to get off the bed, almost sitting.

“I don’t want to be here…” the words were swirling her mouth. Caranthir ignored how he felt about her being so persistent to be as far as possible from him.

“You need to drink that.” he passed one of the potions he was carrying to her pale lips, she turned her head away. He could make her, he could force it down her throat, but somehow he felt like he had already done enough damage to his image, even if he was also sure that once she woke up, she would not remember anything of what is happening here. She pulled away again almost as if she was drunk, no grace in her moves and he used a spell to turn her head toward him and pour the liquid down her throat.

Caranthir walked to the nearest drawer and took out a clean blanket as everything on the bed was soaked in blood. He covered her with the blank and then just sat on the bed next to her. If she had listened to him, that wouldn’t have happened. No, if he had insisted. That’s what the problem was, he could have kept her safe if she had stayed with him and when she said no he should have just made her do so. What did it matter if she wanted or didn’t want as long as she was safe? He sighed, it did matter. He ran his fingers through the feverish skin on her cheek. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake a third time.

Aine woke up, not really recognizing the place where she was. Memories slowly started coming to her, she somehow had managed to reach her house which did not exist anymore. All that time she had hoped he had been lying, that was just a manipulation, but it was not. He had been truthful. Then the creatures attacked her and then... he had come to rescue her. She looked around in panic again fearing she was in Tir na Lia. The room was very similar, stone walls, bed, dresser, but somewhat smaller. She jumped out of the bed in panic, but her leg was cut by sharp pain. She looked at it, she remembered the creatures attacking her in the forest, she summoned a spell to stop one of them but the other one dug its nails in her leg. There was no injury however just an odd feeling of dull passing pain.

She walked to the dresser, her leg feeling better with each step she made as if remembering how to walk. She opened the old wooden doors - white shirts and dark coats were hanging from the line. Some of the coats had different embroideries on them but the black, white and grey was predominant. She grabbed one of the shirts, it was large enough to fit her as a very short dress and it was cleaner than everything else she was wearing now. Once she changed she looked through the window - that was definitely not Tir na Lia. There were mountains as far as her eyes could see covered in snow and ice. The sun was shining but none of that seemed warm in any way. Where was she?

Aine walked to the door, half expecting not to be able to open it. She had been through that once. She pressed on the handle and...the door opened. She stood for a moment wondering if that was a dream - was she imagining things? She stepped through the door in a small hallway that was empty beside a stairway leading down. She stepped further but beside the coldness of the stone under her feet, nothing else happened. She followed the stairs down, they were twisting until she ended in another room, no hallway this time just a room filled with bookshelves, cupboards and two tables. That was when she screamed.

Caranthir heard the scream upstairs and ran as fast as he could only to see Aine in his lab staring at the creature chained to one of the tables.

“It is dead.” Caranthir placed a hand on her shoulder and she looked at him terrified, but didn’t pull away. Apparently seeing the creature that attacked her all opened up was more shocking than he was which he guessed was some sort of progress.

“What…” she looked back at the creature, chained to the table, gut wide open, blood spilled all over the place.

“Ignore it.” just now he noticed she was wearing one of his shirts, so long on her that it was almost reaching her knees. Caranthir stared, not sure what was making him more aroused right now the fact that this was his short or realizing she had nothing under it.

“What happened to it?” her words brought him back to the creature and that was not what he wanted to think about now. “Why is it chained?”

It was chained because he dragged it here after he finally managed to calm her down. That was the one creature she stopped with magic and he went to look for it. He brought it here, chained it to the table, still alive, and opened it. It did die eventually, but he was angry and he needed to make that ugly thing suffer as much as she had suffered even worse.

“Their organs are good for magic but they are very tough to cut through so I had to make sure it doesn’t fall from the table.” The lie came easy to him, he was not going to admit that he didn’t have an idea where that thing came from, nor was going to tell her he made it painful for the ugly creature on purpose, because that was how he kew to solve his problems, the only way Eredin had taught him, make them suffer and everything will be alright. He did learn something however, whatever these creatures were, certainly did not come from this world which was curious. She was still looking at it, her eyes shifting to the massive head filled with sharp fangs. Caranthir could feel himself getting angry again, the same anger he had felt once he made sure she was safe and wanted to find every single one of these things and just destroy their kind. He had to satisfy himself with one. “Come I need to look at your leg.” he pointed at the empty table on the other end of the room.

“I’m fine.” Aine could feel herself blushing realizing that most likely he had healed her, she barely remembered things after she found the creatures, she remembered casting a spell, in fact she wasn’t even sure if it worked as that was when the other two attacked her before she could even realize what had happened.

Caranthir did not answer her but nodded at the table again and she had no choice to but comply. It was easier to do as he said. She jumped on the table and he stood in front of her, his warm hand almost gently moving the shirt away. She realized she was blushing, she had nothing under the shirt and even if his touch right now was almost medical her stomach curled in a ball thinking of the situation they were in. She pinned her eyes on his hand not wanting to look at him, his tattooed fingers gently brushing where the wound was supposed to be on her thigh but now was gone.

He stepped back realizing how dangerous it was what he was doing. He knew her wound would be healed, he healed it, he was terrible with medicinal magic and he was still better than everyone he knew, of course her leg would be fine.

“My office is downstairs, I bought some clothes for you from Tir na Lia.” there he was again feeling completely inept and unsure what to do or how. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs that he liked her, that he felt her presence filled a gap in him he wasn’t even sure existed until two weeks ago. The way she reminded him of himself, but also the way she was different from him. He clutched his fists in frustration at his inability to just be normal, it had never bothered him as much as it did around her.

“Caranthir…” she was standing by the staircase, one foot already on the lower step as she turned toward him. “Thank you. For saving me.”

She walked down and he stared, mouth slightly opened, fingers no longer bundled in fists. When was the last time someone said ‘Thank you’ to him? Not Avallac’h, maybe a nod from him when he was younger or pat on the shoulder, never the actual words. Not Eredin either, everything Caranthir did for his king was his duty, they both knew it and understood it, the navigator did not need to be thanked for what was his job, not Eredin was ever going to thank him for it. He didn’t need anyone’s gratitude and yet...it felt nice. Coming from her, knowing she actually found something nice to say to him.

Aine found the clothes easily, the room downstairs was a study, a large desk in the center and bookshelves circling the wall. She had figured out that wherever they were was a tower and every floor was some sort of a room. She changed as quickly as she could, the clothes that were nicely folded on the desk were the same his servants had brought to her when she was in Tir na Lia, cleaned...she assumed that was hers now or at least until someone decided so. Defgently the riding pants and boots were more suitable for the coldness compared to the oversized shirt.

Once she was done changing she walked to the only window in the room, it had started snowing again, she had never seen so much snow in her life. Her father’s lands were further south and any snow that fell melted almost immediately. She heard Caranthir’s boots tapping on the cold stone as he walked downstairs.

“Where are we?” she asked as she turned to face him.

“The Winter Tower.” he answered, his blue eyes fixed on her. “It used to be a signalling tower for Tir na Lia, many years ago. It’s difficult to access so our ancestors would have made four - five guardsmen living here for a full year. The snows make it almost impossible to reach. Nobody has used it for that purpose in years, I have made it my...laboratory in a sense.”

She looked out again, she could see the lower lands somewhere in the distance, but the snow was reducing the visibility.

“Am I your prisoner again?” she asked not even sure she wanted to hear the answer. If he was to say no and that she can leave...where was she to go? Her home was destroyed and who knew how many of these creatures were there now. She had nowhere to go.

“No.” took him a moment to answer and she might be imagining that but she could see the conflict in his eyes. Did he want to say ‘yes’? What would be the purpose of that? “But I want you to stay as my student. You can leave whenever.”

Caranthir spoke the last words with pain as he knew what had happened last time he allowed her to leave. Despite that, Avallac’h was right, as always. Caging her was not going to bring anything good eventually would kill her.

“How did you find me?” she suddenly asked, that was not what he expected. “In the forest, how did you know I was in danger?”

He forced a smile on his lips that was mostly teeth rather than a grin. Another good intention that he had which was going to backfire on him.

“Put a curse on myself, if you were to feel pain, I would feel it the same way you do.” that and a tracking spell, but he kept that information to himself. It sounded bad as it was, but again he had no idea what else to do. He had never had such a strong desire to protect someone in his life.

Silence followed and he could feel the seconds dragging forever. He would give anything to know what was in her head. It would be so easy wouldn’t it? Everything he had done so far was because he was attracted, but he had to admit he had no idea how to express it or show it. Avallac’h taught him magic, Eredin taught him to kill. That was all he knew, neither skill useful in his predicament.

“If...I stay…” her words made him raise an eyebrow. “I still can leave whenever I decide. Even if I wake up tomorrow and change my mind?”

“Yes.” he nodded. He hoped that won’t happen, he was going to show her the fun part of magic tomorrow, not just moving objects around the room, but the real excitement and power magic could give someone and hopefully after that she would be sufficiently hooked to stay with him a bit longer. All he needed. Just a bit longer.

#caranthir ar feiniel #my writing #OC #the witcher

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thewookieruns · 3 years

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Falloutober Day 4: Cloud Nine

So... @darkwolf7-26 asked me this question back in 2019 about this little story. I’m going to post this on AO3 as well, but this story gets it’s own post.

Here is @falloutober Day 4: Cloud Nine

Erich Richardson cleared his throat nervously as he tried to finish adjusting his tie in the cracked mirror.

“Are you doing okay?” Nick Valentine asked. The Sole Survivor turned to the synthetic detective, who had changed out of his standard attire into a much nicer suit. However, his fedora was still comfortably perched on his bald, plastic head.. Erich chuckled nervously.

“I’m fine, just nervous as hell.” he sighed, swinging his arms back and forth to try and loosen the tension in his shoulders. “I mean… the last time I did this, it didn’t exactly end well.”

Nick snorted a laugh. “That’s one way of putting it, kid.” The synth stepped over to the younger man and helped him fix his tie. Erich felt his face flush with heat.

“Thanks.” he choked out. As Nick finally got the Sole Survivor’s tie straight, Erich cleared his throat again. “Listen, Nick… I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” the detective asked, one of his artificial eyebrows rising.

“Well… ever since I stumbled into Diamond City, you really took me under your wing. To be honest, you’ve really become a father figure to me. I want to live a life that would make you and dad proud. Thank you for that.”

Nick stood in silence, then wrapped the Sole Survivor in a bear hug, which was quickly reciprocated. “You’re a good man, kid. You follow that heart of yours, and you’ll never go wrong.” Nick said, his voice sounding choked with emotion. Several more seconds later, the two men broke their embrace. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got other things to attend to.” Nick said with a smile after clearing his throat. Ruffling Erich’s hair with his right hand, the detective excused himself from the room.

Erich soon followed the detective, and was soon standing outside the home he and Nora had begun making their home before the Great War in the warm afternoon sun. He quickly followed the road down the cul-de-sac until he was standing in the clearing of a grove of trees near the bank of the river that ran along the outskirts of Sanctuary. Light filtered through the branches, giving the area a dappled look. A gazebo had been erected in the clearing, and a mishmash chair had been arranged around the structure. Codsworth, Erich’s faithful Mister Handy, was busy fussing and making sure everything was in order, a bowler hat perched atop his chassis.

“Are you ready for this?” A voice came from behind Erich. He turned to see Preston Garvey standing behind him. The Minuteman had washed and starched his uniform jacket and was wearing it over a nice pair of dress pants. Preston stood next to the Sole Survivor. “Don’t worry, man. You’re going to do great.”

“Garvey is right. You’ll do great, soldier.” Paladin Danse came up and stood on the other side. Surprisingly, he was out of his power armor and was dressed in a black suit and tie. Erich had to admit that both of his friends cleaned up really well.

“Well, then, we should get this celebration started!” Codsworth intoned from across the grove. “Guests are already beginning to arrive!” And indeed they were. John Hancock, the ghoul mayor of Goodneighbor walked into the grove, Cait on his arm. Hancock looked much the same, maybe a bit cleaner, but the three men were all mildly stunned at how well the former cage fighter had cleaned up. Her hair was tied back and was wearing a green dress. Other people were also filtering into the area. Sturges came into the area, pushing Mama Murphy in a wheelchair to a spot close to the gazebo. The handyman was wearing his standard attire, albeit with considerably fewer oil and grease stains. Curie had found a blue dress, and was sitting next to a man in a Minuteman uniform that Erich quickly realized was Deacon. MacCready had even changed into a grubby, ill-fitting gray suit.

“Well… Let’s get this started.” Erich said, feeling the tension return. He and Preston stepped onto the gazebo, with Preston standing in the center. Erich stood to his left.

Once the guests were all seated, Preston began speaking. “Thank you for joining us today. We all know why we’re here, so I won’t stand up here and talk your ears off.” There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd. As soon as the laughter died down, there was a cough from the edge of the grove. Preston gestured to the source of the cough, and heads swiveled towards the edge of the grove, including Erich’s.

There was a gasp from the crowd, including one from Erich. Nick Valentine was standing at the edge of the grove, Piper Wright on his right arm. She was wearing a very simple white, long-sleeved dress that reached to the floor of the grove. Her hair was done in a French braid, and a veil hung to her lower back. She held a bouquet of various rad-flowers in her left hand. But the thing Erich found most beautiful was the radiant smile on the reporter’s face.

As Nick and Piper began walking towards the gazebo, the guests to the wedding stood up, murmurs of wonder passing between them. Finally, Nick and Piper stepped on to the platform. Piper handed the bouquet to Nick, who in turn handed it to Codsworth. Piper reached out and took both of Erich’s hands after brushing some lint off of the lapel of his army fatigues.

“Hey, Blue.” She said softly, her eyes bright. “Come here often?” Erich chuckled, words failing him.

Preston cleared his throat and began talking once the crowd had sat back down. “Gathered friends and colleagues, we’re gathered here today for a very special occasion. We have come here to witness the union of two individuals who have found each other across the centuries. We are here to bear witness to the marriage of Piper Wright and Captain Erich Richardson.” Light applause came from the guests.

Preston continued. “Both parties here have written their own vows, and will share them now.” Preston took a small step back, and gestured to Erich. Erich briefly let go of Piper’s hands and opened the right breast pocket of his fatigues and withdrew a notecard.

“Piper,” he began, reading from the notecard. “When I crawled out of Vault 111 and stumbled into Diamond City, I had lost everything. My world, my family, my life. I’ve been out here in the Commonwealth for a while, and I’ve found everything I lost in the vault. The world I knew before will never come back, but I found someone who understands that my world is vastly different from what it was but helps me keep a hope for this new world. I haven’t found my son, but I’ve found family here in the Commonwealth in my friends who have helped me in that search. My life ended on the day the bombs fell, and somehow ended again when Nora was killed and Shaun was taken. I thought that there was nothing to live for except to find my son. But now I’ve found someone to live for. Piper Wright, I promise to hold you and to cherish you for the rest of the time I have left on this planet.” Finishing up, Erich replaced the card in his breast pocket. He looked up to see tears beginning to form in Piper’s eyes.

“Oh Blue.” she said, her voice choked with emotion. She swallowed, composing herself, then reached over and opened the left breast pocket of Erich’s fatigues, withdrawing another notecard. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to follow that,” she stated, and there was a ripple of laughter. Exhaling, she began reading from her card.

“Erich, I would describe you as a whirlwind. Traveling with you and getting to know and eventually falling in love with you has been nothing short of a force of nature. I’ve seen every facet of you; your courage, your kindness, your honor, and your wit. You have been by my side, pushing me to be a better person, and a rock when I’ve felt like I’m lost. We have had so many amazing things happen to us, good and bad, and I can’t wait for so many more as your wife. I know that by your side we can accomplish whatever we want. I know this sounds ridiculous, but you’ve made this reporter be at a loss for words, and I can’t wait to have that happen more for the rest of our lives.”

As she finished, Piper placed her card back in the pocket of Erich’s fatigues. Sniffles were heard from the crowd, and both lovers figured it was from people crying. Preston stepped forward again.

“That was beautiful.” he stated, his own voice choking with emotion. The Minuteman cleared his throat and laughed. “First, we have an exchange of rings. If the ring bearer could bring the rings forward?” There was a happy bark from the edge of the grove, causing everyone to turn towards the sound. Nat Wright was holding Dogmeat by his collar, which had a bowtie affixed to it. Nat released her grip on the dog’s collar, and the canine bent down and picked up a basket in his mouth before coming bounding towards the gazebo. Once on the gazebo, he trotted to the Minuteman before wheeling and sitting at Preston’s feet, facing the audience. There were coos of appreciation and laughs from the audience at the dog’s antics.

“There we go!” Preston laughed again. “If you two would take the rings, we can complete the ring exchange.” Piper and Erich both crouched down, laughing at the dog. Retrieving the ring, both stood up, not breaking eye contact.

“Now, Erich, If you’ll take Piper’s left hand and place her ring on her ring finger…” Preston instructed, and Erich followed the directions. “Now repeat after me; Piper Wright, with this ring, I wed thee, and take thee to be my wife, ‘til death do us part.” Erich did as instructed. Once he was done, Preston turned to Piper.

“Piper, if you’ll take Erich’s left hand and place his ring on his ring finger…” Once this was done, Preston continued. “Now repeat after me; Erich Richardson, with this ring, I wed thee, and take thee to be my husband, ‘til death do us part.” Piper parroted what Preston had instructed her to say.

“Erich and Piper, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” Preston said, his voice cracking with emotion. Turning to Erich, he stated simply “Kiss your bride!”

Erich did. And in that moment, with Nora’s ring on Piper’s finger, every stress melted away, leaving the newly minted Richardsons on cloud nine.

#Falloutober 4 #Fallout #Fallout 4 #Fallout Fanfic #My Writing #Capt. Richardson #Nick Valentine #Codsworth #Paladin Danse #Preston Garvey #Piper Wright #FLUFF #SO MUCH FLUFF

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playing--koi · 5 years

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To Worship a Flower

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: In which you work in a brothel, Geralt is a patron, and everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.

Warning(s): SMUT (18+), language, prostitution, unprotected sex, slight body worship (both parties receiving)

Word Count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

You’d heard the tales of Geralt of Rivia throughout your whole adult life. He’d reached legendary status across the continent; the melodic notes of the fiddle spectacularly complementing the stories of his bravery. Not that you’d traveled particularly far and wide, more so that your clientele all seemed to know of him no matter where they hailed from. The dichotomy of it all astonished you—that someone with a profession so loathed could be spoken of with such admiration.

Which was why the first time he’d entered your brothel, you simply had to get a glimpse of him. You were preparing for the day, insuring your body was well-cleaned and oiled to perfection—smelling of Lavender and Thyme. One of the girls had thrown your door open, not bothering to knock.

“Geralt of Rivia is here,”.

Your jaw dropped and, without any further consideration, you threw on a silken robe and quickly followed her down the corridor toward the entry hall. Word must’ve yet to travel because you couldn’t see anyone else scampering down the hallway to have their look. Both of you toeing down the staircase, you began to hear echoes of your Madam welcoming a new client, which you assumed to be the famous Witcher.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard the baritone voice speaking back to her, no doubt in your mind that a tone so authoritative and mysterious simply had to be him. You’d reached the bottom of the stairs, in which a wide landing before the doorway to the foyer lent itself to your hiding place around the corner, now able to make out what was being said.

“So, Witcher, how many nights will you be needing company and housing?” You rolled your eyes and quietly scoffed at Madam’s flirtatious tone, knowing damn well she didn’t entertain any clients. If he’d gotten her knickers in a twist, you couldn’t even imagine how handsome he was—considering you’d never once seen that woman show an inkling of sexuality. Even when talking about sex itself, she made it the least arousing topic in all of the continent.

“Just one,” he clearly wasn’t entertaining any of her advances, which you couldn’t help but smirk at.

“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Do you have any preferences in your companions?”

“Hm,” he seemingly considered, probably not used to being asked that question. Most brothels across the continent typically didn’t give an array of choices, but Madam was nothing if not thorough. “Perhaps one who will keep me on my toes,”.

Madam chuckled lightly. “I have just the one for you,”.

You felt a hand hit your forearm and you turned to the girl who’d led you down to find her pointing at you and nodding, as if to say ‘she’s talking about you’, something you’d also had a sneaking suspicion of. Quickly, before Madam decided to lead him up to the second floor, you pulled your companion up the staircase as quietly as you were able. Because, had Madam been talking about you, you weren’t about to let some foolish sleuthing cause her to rethink her decision of his partner for the night.

Once you’d both returned to the second floor corridor where your chambers were located, you separated—each returning to your respective rooms—as she wished you good luck with a wink. You were praying to the Gods that she was right and Madam had been referring to you.

Doing your best to look previously engaged, you tidied up your space as the quiet footsteps of fate waltzed down the hall. They got louder with each moment and your heart quickened with anticipation. You’d always longed to lie with the great Witcher who sparked terror and respect in the hearts of those who beheld him. A worthy opponent; in your assumption to be just as much so sexually as he was on the battlefield.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard the creak of your weathered door, but you continued making the bed as if it’d slipped past you.

Madam cleared her throat and you quickly gave her your full attention, as if startled by her presence. You’d always been quite the actress.

“You have quite an important client tonight,” she announced.

You cocked your head slightly. “Oh?” You scrunched your eyebrows to further show confusion.

“Geralt of Rivia has chosen to stay with us,” she gave you a once-over, probably assessing if you were in the proper state to accompany such an esteemed guess and, luckily, you’d just bathed and oiled. “So I expect you to be on your best behavior and treat him well,”.

You nodded, moving to approach your dresser and search for the perfect lingerie for the occasion.

“Once you are changed, meet me in the hall,” she ordered, “and, by his orders, find something to keep him on his toes,”.

The door closed behind her and you swayed in silent victory, finally awarding yourself the smirk you’d fought against the moment that your door had been opened. Throwing your robe haphazardly across the bed, you stepped into the lingerie you’d been saving for quite the partner. It was black, lace, and—dare-you-say—devilish. You were determined to make this a night that neither of you would forget; a night that would leave him searching for you in every future body.

You fished your robe from its place on the bed, redressing and slipping on a pair of your nicer shoes, stepping out into the corridor to meet Madam. She wordlessly led you to the other side of the brothel—the side where the patrons stayed. The decor was noticeably finer with each step toward the division deemed worthy enough for clients, however you didn’t hold much resentment because, most nights, you found yourself in this sector anyway.

She stopped in front of the door that shielded the largest suite of the property, but you knew the Witcher definitely wouldn’t have paid extra, so you assumed that Madam just added it with the hope to impress. This man must be quite the sight to have even Madam eating out of the palm of his hand, all without even entertaining her extremely rare advances.

Your chest was constricted, heart rate accelerating with each inhale. Nerves vibrating beneath your skin, thrilled for the unveiling of your faceless lover-to-be. She angled her head toward the door, motioning you to enter and you quickly obeyed, holding her gaze until the door was shut with your back to the room. Once it clicked into place, you took a deep breath and turned around to find a presence in the bath gazing at you.

Your mouth went dry. You were thrilled with the discovery that the man you were to be lying with was delicious. His shoulders were nearly as broad as the width of the tub he was occupying and his face was chiseled to perfection, every small scar somehow adding to his beauty. His long silver hair was pulled back from his face, a mixture of sweat and bathwater no doubt the reason it was shining in the dim glow of the room. You surveyed his eyes last, finding them having followed your visual trek across the hills and valleys of his body; the bright golden color left you in awe. He was positively breathtaking and, for the remaining night, he was all yours.

“I wondered if the girl who’d been eavesdropping would be the one tasked with keeping me on my toes,” a smirk donned his face as he expelled the silence of the room.

You were intrigued that he’d sensed you earlier, but not at all surprised. “Madam knows her girls well. And I happen to fall on the more…daring side of the spectrum,” you let a smile of your own annunciate your words.

Without any forewarning, you untied your robe and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in the lingerie. You held eye contact with the Witcher as you slowly made your way to the tub. He let his eyes peruse the slopes and contours of your body as you moved closer, showing appreciation to each inch of visible skin.

You passed the bath, going to grab one of the luxurious soaps that were always stocked in the guest quarters and went to kneel beside the stone basin, working the liquid into a lather after pouring a generous amount into the tub. Your place behind him left you perfectly level with the back of his head. Starting with the ends of his strands, you paid close attention to each section that was caked with some form of grime, slowly moving higher up the lengths to the crown of his head.

As you removed the tie from his mane, he spoke once again. “Never would’ve seen hair washing as keeping me on my toes, but I suppose that’s the point,” his words nearly came out as a groan, clearly enjoying the scalp massage he was receiving.

You smirked. “Oh, darling,” you giggled, “this is simply the preparation.” You moved closer, hot breath undoubtedly tickling the shell of his ear, “the cleaner you are, the more I can dirty you,”.

To an untrained ear, no difference would’ve been captured, but with years of practice in studying the reactions of others, you could hear a slight hitch in his breath.

Your fingers tirelessly worked through the knots in his hair, determined to relax and open him up for you. If what you were planning for the evening was going to work, he was going to have to trust you to make him feel good. Once his mane grew to be more manageable, you picked up the small bucket placed next to you and filled it with the bathwater. You wordlessly pressed a hand between his shoulder blades, motioning to him to sit up straight and lean his head backward as you poured the water through his hair, ridding it of the suds.

You moved your hands down his neck and to his shoulders, finding a plethora of tension there. You’d had no previous doubt that his life was one of immense difficulty, but his muscles further proved it.

His body tensed as you worked through his dips and curves, spending what felt like hours on his shoulders and chest alone; the skin an angry red in response to the pressure. Once you felt a significant decrease in the rigidity of his upper torso, you simply started to clean the rest of his body with delicate strokes, paying attention to each area that warranted a peculiar reaction.

His eyes were shut at this point, neck resting on the rim of the tub as his breath deepened with each caress. You could assume that this type of treatment was nearly unheard of for a man of his background, but you were eager to please. Once you’d finished with the skin of his left calf, you slowly lowered his leg back into the water and returned to his side with a towel.

You were sure to break the silence with a gentle voice, so as not to alarm him or tear him from his blissed-out state. “Darling, would you stand up for me?” You questioned sweetly.

He seemed to be in a trance of sorts as his eyes slowly opened and he nodded, staring into your own with what could only be described as an insurmountable degree of gratitude. He followed your directions and you stared at him in awe. This was the first time you could admire his large stature and toned physique. A body tarnished by scarring and cruelty, but somehow still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You quickly shut your mouth, not even realizing it’d opened and rose to stand yourself. Handing him the towel, you turned away in an attempt to collect your thoughts. “Once you’re dried, go lie down on the bed facedown for me,”.

You busied yourself with grabbing the massage oil; you could hear him stepping out of the tub and walking over to the bed from behind you. After turning around and seeing him lying down, you quickly disrobed, throwing your clothes next to where he’d haphazardly tossed the towel. You approached the bed and kneeled up onto it, moving to straddle the backs of his thighs. If he was surprised by your actions, you didn’t hear it.

Pouring a generous amount of the oil onto your hands and tossing it aside, you rubbed it all along his back, outwardly gasping at the knots. “Oh, you poor thing,” you tutted. “When was the last time someone was gentle with you, darling?” The rhetorical question came without any thought, but you certainly didn’t regret it.

Kneading, caressing, rubbing, and massaging your way across his back mapped out a lot of his more sensitive spots for you. His body was complex and he clearly didn’t treat it with kindness. You found many areas that had healed oddly, no doubt due to his lack of care for wounds. It was obvious to you that a good bit of his tension came from his tight posture that was so wound so tightly, clearly terrified of showing any response to the massage, or anything really.

You continued your work on his back and, once you reached his lower spine, he let out the smallest mix between a groan and a whine once you’d pummeled a particularly excruciating bit of stress. It was delectable and you could feel his body softening now that he’d let out one of his natural reactions. “That’s it, darling, let it all out for me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds,”.

It was like a wall had been broken. The soft grunts and moans that you were now being met with gave you an overwhelming victorious feeling. You’d relaxed Geralt of Rivia and he felt secure enough in your hands to react to you.

Your mouth practically watered as you now realized it was time to give his glorious derriere the rubdown it deserved. Your fingers worked rigorously, doing your best to assuage the discomfort that he probably didn’t even know a life without. And it was getting to be your time to shine. You pressed the fingers of both hands into the flesh of his buttocks and pressed down deep enough to support your weight as you moved further down his body, finding space to lay down in between his thighs to spread his ass out beautifully in front of you.

Your face was now perfectly level with his juicy peach, your warm exhales ghosting over his skin. You could see his head slightly lifting from its place on the bed. “What are you doing?” He asked, but you heard no concern. Just mild curiosity. He’s intrigued.

“I’m gonna show this beautiful derriere of yours the love it deserves,” you lowered your head to place a gentle kiss to each cheek, sucking a small hickey into the skin of his left one. Enough for a stinging reminder and a fleeting mark of your territory. His body slightly shivered. Success.

Without any further words, you spread him apart and licked a broad stripe up from his taint to his tight little hole. A shocked mewl could be heard above you as he pressed his forehead down into the mattress. You continued massaging the muscles of his buttocks as your tongue took residence between them. Sucking, licking, and tasting him as he mindlessly rutted against the mattress.

His body started to shake with pleasure, clearly so unused to this area being stimulated. Your tongue flicked and rolled against his beautiful ring, laving it with attention—doing everything in your power to excite. His back arched slightly, pressing himself further back into your mouth and you were thrilled by it. Grasping him by the hips, you pulled him even closer—determined to taste every inch of him. Comfortably nestled into him and basking in the glory of his breathy sounds was quite possibly your new happy place.

He looked obscene like this; hole puckered and red as your spit reflected the dim light of the suite. His hips tensing as he writhed against the sheets, your mind saturated with thoughts of what his expression displayed. Would it be desperate and fucked out? Maybe scrunched up and tense with a touch of mania. You were drenched already, but you could feel even more wetness gathering at the thought.

You finally found the perfect rhythm that seemed to be quite the sweet spot for both parties. It was slow enough that you could drift off into your own world of Geralt and consistent enough that he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

You heard a low mumble from the man of the hour and begrudgingly removed your tongue from the cleft of his bum. “What was that, darling?” You made sure to keep up the sickeningly sweet tone.

“‘m gonna cum—” he grunted, “can’t hold it,”.

You tsked, “now why would you be holding it, darling? Don’t hold out on me,”.

And what you heard next had your cherry fluttering. “Wanna come inside you,” he whimpered.

Your jaw nearly dropped and, with one final lick and suck of his pretty floret, you pulled yourself up onto your knees. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” You patted him lightly on the side of his hip, ushering him to turn over which he obeyed immediately.

The sight in front of you was one of immense luxury. You almost felt scandalized by it (and that was saying something considering what you’d just finished doing). His pupils were blown wide, eyes nearly black, and his body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. His member was stood at attention, precum leaking from the tip as it pressed tightly against his abdomen. He looked at you like a sight to behold, lips swollen and pink from biting and pursing.

“What a pretty little pet you are—all fucked out like this,” he visually preened under the praise. You slowly crawled up his body, straddling his wide hips. “Tell me, White Wolf—has anyone ever allowed you to be the lamb?”

He looked at you with such awe in that moment, slowly shaking his head. Without any warning, you gripped his manhood and guided it to your opening, sinking down onto his thickness. Both of you released the most broken, animalistic noises. A flurry of passion and lust. Once you bottomed out, he quickly sat up and grabbed onto both of your hips searching for the comfort of your skin. He snapped his hips to yours and guided you down onto his thrusts, finding a shared tempo as he listened closely to which speed had you emitting the most sinful of noises.

You frantically bounced yourself on his cock, not even realizing how hungry you’d been for release until the smallest taste had you positively starved. Your body was now slick with the heat of sweat as you tightly gripped his shoulders, your fingernails leaving imprints on his skin. You hadn’t even realized that one of his hands had left your hip until you felt the pads of his fingertips make contact with your clit, causing your body to spasm at the first contact of the evening. Your eyes screwed shut as you bowed your head backward, baring your throat to him in a sort of submission. He immediately responded, attaching his lips to the skin of your neck—biting, sucking, and marking.

Both of your bodies begun stuttering at the closeness to release, teetering on the edge of climax. He removed the hand grasping your hip and snaked it around your back, tilting you closer to him as you both mindlessly rutted against each other in desperate pleas of euphoria.

You could feel your walls contract in the beginnings of orgasm, triggering a loud moan from Geralt at the clenching around his cock. You both grasped onto each other for dear life as you came apart at the seams. Both inhaling the thick scent of sex as you squeezed every last bit of ecstasy from one another.

And that was how you’d met the glorious Witcher who’d been subject to many tales and carols. You’d assumed the morning after you laid with him that’d be the last time you’d ever see him. So when you watched him just finish readying himself to leave, you were shocked when he picked you up by the bottoms of your thighs and kissed you with such intense fervor, leaving you to see stars. You were even more shocked when he pulled away and whispered, “until next time, little lamb,” with a wink. Your eyes widened at his nickname, no doubt giving it to you after your comment the evening before.

But before you’d had time to question it, he’d set you down and left.

You saw Geralt quite a few times after that night. He clearly felt safe with you and enjoyed the way you took care of him. You’d even heard talk from travelers that rumor had it he no longer entertained any more company at the places he stayed. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of any silly fantasies that maybe he saved intimacy for you only.

However, the hope would reappear when you remembered the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he dared to laugh in front of you, far more intimate a gesture than any sexual act could be. The weighted, moonlit conversations dancing through the air as you ran your fingers delicately across his scars.

It was becoming quite the problem for you, as you were now far more disillusioned with any client that wasn’t him. You found yourself more easily irritated and difficult to please. All of it seeming pointless if it wasn’t with Geralt.

Which was how you’d ended up nearly rolling your eyes at the pig of a customer who’d been ordering you around condescendingly from the moment you walked through the door. Refusing to call you anything other than ‘whore’ any time he wanted your attention.

Luckily, you’d only been tasked with bathing him thus far, but now that he was out and dried off and sitting on the bed, you dreaded your next orders.

“Well come on then, make that mouth of yours useful. It ain’t gonna suck itself off—” he demanded and you let out a deep exhale as you walked over to where he was seated, about to kneel down before the door creaking startled you out of your action.

Madame was at the door, which had never once happened at your entire time working for her. She always waited until the client was done with whatever girl they’d been assigned before ever daring to enter.

“Mr. Broont, I’m afraid she has been requested by another patron and I’ll have to excuse her to come with me,” she spoke with an air of apology, “I promise the other girl I’ve brought will surely satisfy.” She motioned for you to stand and come back over to her.

Before you could, you could feel his be-ringed paw clutch your bicep tightly, holding you in place. “Nuh, uh. I paid for a night wit’ this one and that’s precisely what I’m ‘onna get—” you inhaled sharply upon contact, the stone jewelry and long nails doing nothing to help the aching of his grip. “Now run along and tell the other guy he’s gotta wait his turn,”.

Madame opened her mouth to answer, but before she had a chance at rebuttal, the door was slammed open and in walked the subject of your wildest dreams. With a look of malice on his face that you’d never seen before.

Once he assessed your predicament, he spoke up, “I suggest you take your hand off of her before I cut it from your wrist,” and if that didn’t get you all hot and bothered at what was definitely the wrong time.

The man behind you quickly pulled away as if the skin on your arm had burned him and you rose quickly to walk over to the den of safety he provided. Madame nodded to you, signaling you could go and take him with you to the usual room you both shared.

Without making eye contact, you led him from the room and down the corridor to where the suite was located and motioned for him to go sit on the bed. Refusing to look at him, you tried your best to collect yourself. Emotions were swirling around your head. Fear at the man who thought he owned you. Sadness at the way he’d regarded you, how these pathetic excuses for men continued to regard you. Confusing amounts of lust at Geralt’s show of dominance. And shame at the thought of your Witcher seeing you in such a vulnerable and embarrassing situation, no doubt hearing the way that man had been allowed to talk to you. You were a jumbled mess of barely-contained feelings just begging to be released.

You didn’t even have time to experience the usual bliss that came with seeing him. Your eyes had filled, much to your chagrin. You breathed in deeply from your nose, trying your best to keep the tears at bay.

You whipped around at the sound of him clearing his throat from a few feet behind you, making eye contact for the first time. He cocked his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing with empathy. “Enjoy the show?” You tried to joke, doing your best to mask the sadness that was doing its best to consume you.

“You don’t have to be strong for me, little lamb,” he whispered, moving closer with gentle steps. “Everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.” And just as he reaches you, you crack.

The tears begin to fall as you reach up and pull him into you by his jaw, lips meeting in a desperate haze. The salty taste of your tears mixing with the taste of him as you reached for him, begging him to further invade your space. He did so quickly, pulling you up by your thighs which you instinctually wrapped around his waist, needing his sturdy presence to consume you.

You hadn’t even realized that he was walking until you were gently being placed down on the bed. His position did wonders for his beauty, a soft halo of light surrounding him, lending a warmth to his silver strands. You stared up at him as he gazed upon you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid the undergarments from your body. You weren’t used to such attention being paid to you; patrons weren’t typically intrigued by any subtle details, preferring to shove their cock somewhere and shut their eyes until it was over.

But he really saw you. As your nude body was displayed to him at such an attentive state, you couldn’t help but to feel bashful at the pure vulnerability. You subtly moved your forearms up to shield your breasts while gently closing your thighs to shield them from his curious stare. Quickly catching onto what you were doing, he kneeled to the ground and forced your knees to a wider stance.

“Ah, ah—” he tutted gently, hands hungrily roaming your thighs with his calloused touch, “—now why would you hide such a pretty flower from me, hm?” You outwardly gasped, so unused to his newfound dirty talk. Well, maybe not fully new, but new to you. “Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going in combat is knowing I get to come back here and sink my face into this sweet little cunt,”.

He moved his face closer to your heat, the warmth of his breath making your tummy flutter in anticipation as you could feel yourself dampening. He gently placed your thighs over his broad shoulders, showing no signs of struggle at the added weight, eyes alternating between your pupils and your core; the tension in your chest thick and waiting. Your loud breaths were the only source of sound in the otherwise silent room.

Maintaining eye contact, he licked a long stripe up your slit, the first contact you’d gotten in ages; time wasted with piss poor lovers and clients with no concern for you. All of that melted away as your lips parted around a high-pitched moan, back arching and chasing more which he gladly offered. His mouth mapped out the dips and curves of your aching center, an unfathomable hunger overtaking your body with each suckle. It was messy, his lips coated with your juices and his own dribble; but with his eyelashes fluttering, you could tell he reveled in your taste.

Trying out different techniques, re-familiarizing himself with your anatomy, but it wasn’t long before he rediscovered his expert touch, sweeping his mouth across your most sensitive areas, swallowing your arousal with each movement.

While he’d previously been avoiding your fleshy bundle—which you assumed to be calculated teasing—the man decided that now was the focal moment; his lips capturing your bud and rolling it across his tongue.

“Geralt—” your choked out plea was met with a smirk from the man below you, albeit quite obscene as it was expressed while between your folds. Your body stuttered with each passing moment, finding it near impossible to breathe. Your heart rate was at an all-time high, the noises deafening in your ears. “Please—oh gods, please—”.

Your voice was nearly unrecognizable, so fucked out with broken mewls and haphazardly strewn phrases of ‘just like that’, ‘don’t stop’, ‘right there’, and several others along those same lines.

“Such a pretty little petal—” he mumbled, eyes raking along your heat as if in a trance, “—I could eat it forever,”. The only words running through your head in response were ‘please do’.

The sounds of his talents echoed throughout the once-noiseless suite: slurping, licking, and groaning; all matched in volume with your own whines and incantations. At this point, your body was covered in a thin veil of sweat—so responsive to feelings so rare to you.

While Geralt showed himself to be quite the able lover in your previous times together, bringing you to release more times than you could count, this time felt particularly important. It wasn’t as if he wanted you to feel good, it was as if he needed it. Each movement perfectly planned to give you the utmost feeling of ecstasy as he watched your facial expressions morph to varying degrees of unabashed delight. His tongue seeming to memorize the patterns that had your toes curling into the skin of his back and grip tightening around his mane. You could tell he loved the ache; with each tug, he would let out an especially thick groan into the soaking flesh of your heat.

You were nearing the tipping point, the pre-bliss haze of what was to come washing over you as your one hand gripping his hair pulled him closer (an impossible feat), while the other had the sheets in a vice hold of its own. You’d never felt such attention on you before and this new feeling of safety had everything feeling that much more intense.

Your vision went white, the world around you completely lost to your unconscious mind. A headspace of pure intoxication. You felt as if you were floating, your body weightless and free of all stress. Sleepy and satiated and content.

As your senses returned, you could feel that you were being carried. The sounds of splashing were slowly invading your perception and, soon you were being lowered into warm water by the body that had been holding you. Opening your eyes, you could see Geralt facing you; you were sitting in his lap in the bath as he slowly grounded you with his continuous strokes along your spine.

You opened your mouth, but your mind was still muddled, so nothing came out. He nodded understandingly, showing that you needn’t speak. He knew.

“You did so well for me, little lamb—” you tucked your face into his neck, hugging him closer to hide your bashful countenance. He continued mindlessly caressing the skin of your back as you came back down.

You felt him lightly tap against you, signaling for your attention, which you gladly gave him, untucking your head from where it rested on his shoulder. “How’d you like to come with me?” His brows furrowed in questioning. “We can find a life better suited for you,”.

You didn’t even have to think it over, nodding eagerly at his suggestion. Getting out of there was a dream come true, but getting out of there with Geralt? Now that was simply heaven.

“Alright, we’ll sort that out come morning—but, for now, just relax,” he whispered, the heat of his words dancing across every pore on your face. Staring into his bright golden eyes, you could feel a warm hope envelop you.

“Thank you,” your voice was soft, filled to the brim with gratitude.

“Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes,” he smirked, “a very smart woman showed me that some time ago—”. The grin that you donned could nearly split your face.

fin

A/N: Another Geralt fic that I’d say is quite possibly filthier than either of my other two so far, but you can be the judges of that ;) Thank you so much for reading, you beautiful babies!!! Likes, reblogs, comments, and just overall reactions are always treasured real deep in my lil’ heart. I hope you guys like this one!!!! x g

tag list: @alwayshave-faith @fairytale07 @whatawildone @angelic-kisses13 @la-meneur-louve @thewitcher-is-a-pandemic

if i forgot anybody/you wanna be added to the tag list, just lemme know!! x g

#Geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt fic #geralt of rivia #geralt smut #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #my writing

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

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may i please get a small fic about the loveshrooms?

I didn't expect anyone to like the idea, but I'm so glad you did!

I was going to bring a Yan Bakugou into the mix but- I felt like I could end up disappointing you in a way so I'll just leave it as a ambiguous character, what do you think?

Also, love shrooms is actually a really good name lol!

TW/Tags: loss of sanity and mentions of depressive thoughts // fungal contamination and mentions of diseases (and quarantine) // none gender specific (neither the reader or the character mentioned have their gender assigned) // touch starving // victim blaming mentality.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

In need of help [Yandere!Virus/Fungus x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

They were laying in their bed, wondering what the hell was happening with their body. It's been a week since they started to feel this way, endless headaches, hot burning skin temperature yet a feeling of always being cold dominated them, as if they were naked in the middle of a blizzard.

One day they started feeling dizzy while they were at work, so their boss has told them to go back home and rest, and they haven't gone back to their jobs in a full week because of some random sickness they got!

That's what they thought back then, they thought that this was all just a little flu that had ruined their days, but no, it turned out to be something completely more different than that.

They have heard about some sort of disease outbreak happening in their town, something that was still fairly new and mysterious to even the highest of doctors and world leaders. It was so sudden, out of nowhere people started to show symptoms of some sort of new illness, something that develops slowly yet quietly.

The contaminated would feel all that they were feeling right now, if not worse, since a lot of contaminated have shown some weird aggressive behavior randomly. Those that were contaminated were told to limit their contact with other people, some were privileged enough to be able to stay in hospitals receiving professional care, but they couldn't do that, they didn't want to believe that they were contaminated by some stupid looking fungus.

They just… Really, really didn't want to see a doctor, even if the symptoms are getting worse and worse, something forced them to keep their mouth shut. They didn't want to go to a hospital, they didn't want any doctors or scientists experimenting on them, they didn't want to be trapped inside that pearly white hell.

They heard rumours about servers experiments being done inside each hospital available, which caused the contaminated to get even more desperate to get out of there.

The thing is, no one knows if the contaminated were the ones who had decided that they didn't want to stay there, or if something else was dictating that decision.

Apparently, the cause of such distress was a little mushroom species that have only been discovered after the first incident happened. An incident where the first contaminated to fully develop the parasite had attacked someone in the streets (well, allegedly attacked, since there is no proof of the guy actually hurting someone, but it doesn't matter now since he was eliminated before he could attack someone). After that the contamination had spread wildly, it was as if the existence of such a dangerous thing had just been announced and out of nowhere, the damn thing had taken a hold of people's lives.

In one second everything was fine, and then in the next they were stuck at home, feeling hopeless. At least they don't have to be the lab rat of some crazy doctor and scientist. Until now, it has been pretty easy to hide the fact they were contaminated, key words being "until now", guess what happened?

"- Fucking- itchy fungus." They yelled as they continued to scratch their itchy arms, there were visible pink and red blotches around them, and on top of that they were now hurting because of how much force they were using on their itchy arms.

They have learned that it takes too many weeks for it to develop marks around the contaminated bodies, and that the mushrooms spread and thrive in cold habitats.

And guess who was the idiot that has come back from hiking in a snowy forest about two weeks ago? Yeah that 's right! This imbecile right here!

"- Ugh, what the hell do you want from me?" It's been three days since they started talking with the fungus growing inside them, since they noticed that indeed, the fucking thing comprehends human communication somehow.

Or maybe they were just insane.

This was basically an everyday routine, the mushroom would get agitated, they would ask it what it wanted, and in a brilliant moment of concentration they would remember exactly what the mushroom wanted.

"- Pizza again? Come on, you're going to make me spend all of my savings on some lackluster pizza?" They said while looking at their colorful arms, they needed to cover them if they wanted to see anyone else soon.

You see, ever since they started to stay inside their house to not spread the contamination, they have been ordering pizza at a very terrible place that sold only the most boring pizza they could have ever eaten. No flavor at a cheap prize!

It seemed like the stupid fungus had taken a liking to the terrible taste of nothingness, so they had decided to obliged with the fungus wishes.

"- Stupid parasite, you're lucky I can't beat you for making me waste so much in daily deliveries." They continued to be grumpy about it as they put some clothes on, normally they love to spend their time alone naked, and apparently the fungus also agreed with the decision. What? It's their apartment, they can be naked if they want.

They took their phone and typed the number to the pizzeria, well, at least they never take too long to deliver their mediocre pizza.

"- Hi, it's Anthony's Pizzeria, how can I help you?" They heard a familiar voice come from the other side of the call.

Oh.

"- What-!" They yelped, almost causing the call to accidentally end right there and then.

It's you, it's your voice! They know it it's, they are sure of it!

"- … Uhn, hey, are you okay-"

"- I'm f-fine, sorry!" They have interrupted your question, they were so caught up about your voice that they forgot to order the pizza.

Oh but your voice! Your voice was so different in the call than in real life, it's so… Interesting! Yeah, that's surely the word they were looking for!

They have called so many times yet this was the first time you were the one to pick up! They guess that because of the contamination and quarantine stuff going on, they were low on staff and you were the one receiving the orders.

After all, you were the only person that worked there that would deliver their pizza every single time. It became such a normal thing that you two even know each other's names!

[Y/N], it's such a beautiful name, it fits the owner. Although they think you're pretty unlucky to have to work at a terrible place and also do deliveries to an unwelcoming neighborhood.

That's the reason why you're the one to always bring their pizza, it's because you're the only worker that they are willing to risk in such a terrible place. Fortunately, their only client around this area is them.

When they were about to finish their order, they asked if you were the one that was going to bring the pizza.

"- Yeah, it is me. You know, low on staff and all, why do you ask?" You ask them with that welcoming voice of yours. A hint of happiness graced your tone, you were happy that it was them ordering again.

Although you still think that their obsession with mediocre pizza is a little concerning, you ended up forming some sort of friendship with them. An odd one for sure, but you're still happy about it.

When you first met them, they would always give you some really scary vibes. They were so, well, cold and closed off. Never smiling, never giving tips, always in a terrible mood, etc.

But recently, they started to treat you with so much respect, even joking about your job with you. The first time you saw them smile, you thought you were seeing a completely different person.

You're still glad you found this new version of them. They look happier and you felt good for them. Maybe they have found their own happiness.

To hear your confirmation was the most exciting thing they could have heard all day! They were sulking in this disgusting room all day, yet hearing that you're coming makes them feel alive!

They can't even hide their excitement, you can hear them being happy and giggly over the idea of you coming over. Even if technically you're only coming there to deliver them their order and all.

When the call ends, they soon are brought back to reality. When they were talking to you, they felt like they were in the best place on Earth, yet when they looked around their apartment they could only observe the clues of a disgusting creature living in this dirty ass place without ever cleaning it, not even once.

It's a depressing sight, yet they have learned to deal with it. It was normal for them to be lazy and an absolute pig, although they are aware that even pigs are a lot cleaner than them.

They should at least take a shower before you come in.

And just as the idea of you being anywhere near them came into their mind, their personality had switched again, from a grumpy depressed loser to… to…

To whatever the hell they are right now!

Seriously, they were feeling like shit all day, yet at the moment the opportunity to see you comes up, they feel like their day it's already 100 times better!

They feel their heart pounding at an incredible passing, the water of the shower hitting their skin helping their temperature to cook down. They don't even feel so cold anymore, they feel- Powerful!

They feel better than the last time they saw you, which was yesterday, so it doesn't even make sense for them to miss your presence the way that they do, but still!

Apparently even the fungus seemed to be happier about this situation, as their arms weren't itchy at all and the headache they were feeling seemed to have stopped.

They thought the thing was only awaiting its meal, as all living creatures do when faced with the opportunity to get food without any efforts put into it.

It was as if the motive to actually fix a little bit of this place had suddenly appeared at the mention of your arrival! It was uncommon for them to do such a thing, even for a guest, and their neighbors can testify.

Not that they would want to be involved in their life either way, their neighbors know how unpleasant they can be, even to those that live near them.

To think your presence has such an impact on them and their life, even though they never experienced anything like this before, their sudden change in mood never really crossed their minds as being bad or unconventional. It just… Happens.

And- It doesn't feel bad at all.

Maybe this lonely loser is finally understanding the importance of healthy social interactions! Good for them?!

After getting out of the shower and putting their clothes back on, they straight up jump out of the bathroom to complete their next task, which was making their apartment seem a little more *pleasant", at least for someone that was looking at it from the other side of their door.

But before they could do much, their apartment bell rang and you called them from the other side of the door. You did something, however, that would soon be proven to be a bad decision.

You have decided to call them by their name instead of the usual "your pizza is here" or whatever the hell you used to scream so the customers could hear. You thought that you had spent enough time with them to be able to use their name in a friendly manner, which was nothing wrong with that, dearest! Is just that-

They haven't been able to hear people say their name in such a friendly way in a long, long time. It's both refreshing and terrifying how they craved that form of attention.

And what is just as terrifying is how fast they throw their body towards the door, like a desperate addicted trying to reach their dose of dopamine. But that comparison it's absurd, right? It has nothing to do with the current situation.

Oh no, wait-

"- [Y-Y/N]!? You came in e-earlier than I thought! How is everything going??" They would welcome you in, but the truth is that they haven't been able to finish all of the cleaning. Basically, they took all of the garbage that was in front of the door's view and put it deeper in their apartment.

Just like sweeping dirt under the rug, you were only able to see a moderately good looking apartment behind them, yet in reality, all of the dirty dishes and clothes that were previously laying around there, were now shoved under some tables in a desperate need to impress you.

Even if a little bit.

Because of how suddenly they opened the door and came into view, you got yourself a little spooked by the taller figure in front of you. They always looked pretty scary in your eyes, yet recently you started to notice that they have a softer side.

You can't help but associate them with big scary dogs, you guess that they only put some sort of facade to keep themselves appearing to be tough and strong and "scary". You can't lie that they got you pretty good the first time you met.

You answer them, telling how hard it has been to work in an awful pizzeria while the world is burning and a weird disease suddenly has been discovered out of nowhere. They tried their best to continue the small talk, yet it seemed like they didn't need to do much because soon enough you were babbling about your life.

They loved it, you were always so talkative, even to a complete stranger. They wanted to pay close attention to you and what you were saying yet they simply couldn't! Your presence was so overbearingly sweet that they thought they would have a heart attack!

I'm being serious though, their heart started to accelerate out of nowhere and a weird feeling started to arise inside their hearts. They felt so weird and uncomfortable because of the sudden sensations yet- It felt so good in a way.

They felt alive for once, they felt- They felt like they were capable of anything!

Yet they still felt like they needed something more than just… This, whatever the hell is giving them such a wonderful feeling. Could it really be you, the cause of such wonderful emotions to bloom?

Your skin looked so soft, your smile was so gentle even when you were focused on giving them their order, you looked like you cared for them so much that when you noticed their odd behavior you put your hand in their shoulder.

This one, simple little contact managed to get a hold of them and their thoughts, their breathing now way faster and frantic than before.

How long have they been without a human touch? They are pretty sure it wasn't long, yet they still feel… Shamefully needy.

They can't tell what's worse, trying to convince you that they were okay, or trying to convince themselves to not do something stupid. They didn't know what it was, but there was a suspicious feeling crawling up their spine, the feeling that if they didn't control themselves something bad could happen.

They lied of course, saying they were just- Dizzy and a little tired, that they were doing everything on auto pilot, and even if you end up believing them, the moment you take your hand away us the moment they regret not giving in to whatever odd urge they were having a couple of seconds ago.

You were soon about to leave, they didn't even notice that they were holding the pizza box and almost let it fall from their loose grip.

"- H-Hey, wait! [Y/N] I-" they sounded absolutely pathetic, they sounded desperate for your attention but at least it seemed like you didn't mind or simply didn't notice their tone of voice.

You were causing so much frustration yet you remained oblivious to their suffering.

"- Do you… Perhaps, want to hangout later? I-If you're not busy, of course…." They sounded like a teenager who just confessed their crush on someone, well, if they were trying in that situation, normally the other person would at least be aware of their feelings.

But no, of course they aren't and of course you only see their offer as a way to call you for a friendly date.

People sweet and naive like you used to get on their nerves, they used to ignore your type of person yet-

Here they are! Being pathetic and stuttering, the only good thing to come out of this interaction was that you accepted their offer.

At least you're kind enough to accept to meet this poor thing again in a more private scenario. Not in your daily "customer and worker" type of interaction.

And as your form goes away at each step you take, the intrusive thoughts start to come in again. Those thoughts, those pains from earlier, everything was starting to get back.

It really does seem like you're the cause for their problems. Their headaches, their low self-esteem thoughts, the stupid fungus itching their skin, all of that was your fault… Somehow.

In someway or another you were the one that would always show up in their dreams, in their intrusive thoughts. They closed the door to their apartment while slowly placing the pizza on their coffee table, since now their mind was starting to come up with the solution to their daily pains.

This is not about pizza, this is about you! About how you consume their mind, even when you aren't present.

Although, every time you're near them, they feel so much better, like all of their issues have gone away.

That 's it! You're not only the source of their problems, but also the solution! Oh, that 's perfect! They know exactly what they need to do to make sure you cure them.

Yeah… YEAH! YES! They won't need to suffer every day waiting for the next time to see you, they can simply have you by their side, right??!

Please, please tell them, please tell this mad person that you'll cure them of the same thing you contaminated them with!!

Please… They feel so, so cold and lonely. Their only company is a parasite who seems to agree with this person's mad, delusional thoughts.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere fanfics #yandere fanfic #yandere short fanfiction #yandere virus #yandere mushroom #yandere zombie #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction

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jilytho · 4 years

Text

and they were roomates

Jily/Marauders roomate thing just for fun. Happy Jilytober!!!!

Read below or on AO3 of FFNT

Moving in together had always been the plan. The Marauders, out in the real world. Throughout Uni they were always forced to split up into different apartments in groups of two, usually ending with Sirius and James in one apartment and Remus and Peter sharing one down the hall. Remus insisted it be that way because he insisted he wouldn’t be able to focus on schoolwork if he had to deal with his idiot of a boyfriend 24hours a day but separate apartments in no way made them spend any less time together. James swears he spent more nights on the floor of Remus and Peter’s kitchen than in his bed. Still, once they were done with school and off in the Real World having an apartment for all of them to live in was the ultimate goal.

They set out to look for a spot that was nice enough to fit the bizarrely high standards of Sirius, while still not breaking the bank for Remus or Peter who insisted on paying their own way without any help.

It was Remus who ended up finding their place, somewhat dodgy area of town but right down the street from his favorite Thai takeout place, three coffeeshops with adequate reading vibes within a four block radius, and a seven minute commute for Remus to get to the lab everyday. 14C was a once cute three bedroom apartment now covered in years of dust and grime and now officially theirs.

Sirius and Remus claimed the master with its very own ensuite so James could stop having to pick Sirius’s hair out of the shower. It wasn’t a perfect set up but they all found ways to mesh together and make it just right and just theirs. Peter was immediately made interior designer and found a couch and two armchairs off of craigslist so that they could stop sitting on the floor in front of the TV. James was in charge of the kitchen and bought real utensils and bowls so Sirius would stop pouring his cereal onto frisbees. Remus developed his very own homemade cleaner filled with bleach and alcohol and was likely poison in a bottle but it somehow made the beige counters white and sparkling.

Technically James and Sirius were the only names actually on the lease, a Sirius suggestion, so that if they were ever late on rent it wouldn’t impact the credit Remus had spent so long building up. It had the added benefit of Peter and Remus not having to worry if their paycheck was being delayed and they had to pay Sirius or James a few days late because the boys were always good for it.

Being adults in the real world never stopped any of them from still behaving like children. Sirius refused to take out the trash so James took to dumping the trash on his head while he was sleeping, and accidentally got day old noodles onto Remus’ pillow. They broke two TVs during two separate games of indoor football and Peter was a world class baker but was the worst at cleaning in the whole flat and left flour everywhere, constantly. But still, they were happy. They ate dinner together almost every night and had movie nights on Thursdays. Peter and James invested in heavy duty ear plugs within three weeks of moving in and realizing just how thin the walls were.

After a full year of making Apartment 14C home, the lease was up they unanimously decided to resign because this was their place. But then one day they wake up to find that Pete has his bags packed and is all “I got a job across the country bye”. They want to fight him and Remus, always the logical one, brings up that they literally just signed for a whole year and are only 20 days into this new lease. And Peter, the little slimy rat, smirked and said “Not my name on the lease, not my problem” and just left.

They learn from Facebook that he was working for some politician that stands for everything the boys do not. The kind of politician who would actively root against the happiness and togetherness of Sirius and Remus. Once they learn that, they are officially done missing him.

At some time in the middle of the night all the pictures that Peter was in from school are mysteriously replaced with pictures of James’s cat.

Sirius wants to keep He-Who-We-Do-Not-Talk-About’s bedroom empty and make it into a yoga studio/library combo but Remus says that it's ridiculous to pay that much extra in rent and he refuses to let Sirius pay for the room and so the roommate hunt begins.

Everyone they met with was either too sweaty or too loud or was great on paper but had a super distinct death like scent so the room sat empty for almost a full month. James was content to let it stay that way and just keep finding reasons because it was good with just the three of them. They weren’t the same and James was sometimes a third wheel but these were his brothers, he didn’t need anyone else.

It stays empty until one day, Remus comes home from work one day saying that he has a friend from class, a nice well mannered and smart girl who would pay her rent on time but is in urgent need of getting off of her sister and terrible brother in laws couch before she “sets it and the house on fire”. Sirius isn’t sure he wants someone willing to commit arson moving in across the hall from him but a quick look from Remus shut him up and he was suddenly all for the mystery girl coming in. Remus said she would be moving in in three hours and would James be available to help her carry in her bags? James felt slighted that he wasn’t even given a vote or a chance to meet the girl, but that was mostly because despite Peter leaving and betraying them, James is loyal to a fault and still saw the room as Pete’s room and Pete’s stool in the kitchen despite the fact that the lying bastard just took off with no warning and changed his phone number and was a traitorous little bastard. Still, he couldn’t argue the point too much or he’d look stupid so fine, let the new girl move in but “Remus I swear, make it clear that this is just temporary until she figures it out and we find someone else we can all agree on”. He decided he just wouldn’t hang out with the new girl. They’d be apartment mates but they wouldn’t be friends.

She shows up with seven boxes and three bottles of wine to her name. James’s mouth is full of pasta when she introduces herself to him and he is so startled by the green of her eyes that he swallows without chewing and starts hacking noodles up while waving hello as she watches, green eyes wide with concern and amusement, hand still held out to shake.

The first week after she moves in, he avoids her like the plague. He mentally insists that he has no need to get to know her because this is just temporary and she is going to find a new place and it doesn't matter how green her eyes are if he just doesn’t look at them.

By the start of the second week, it stopped mattering if he didn’t directly interact with her because she was still everywhere. The living room was transformed from a bare bones TV and couch room to completely cozy with scented candles and fuzzy blankets and fun, colorful throw pillows that James instantly became obsessed with. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love the lemon scented soap in the kitchen or how she always made sure there was coffee in the pot for him or how the scent of her rose body wash somehow fills the whole apartment everytime she showers and is amazing or how the whole apartment just felt warmer and better now that she was there.

He stopped getting surprised when she found ways to just fit with them. He always thought Peter worked well with them, they were brothers of course, but now he couldn’t help feeling like Peter had been a square peg squeezing into a circle hole. He fit but it was also just a little tight or tense or unequal. Lily, on the other hand, clicked in just right. She was instantly just one of them, even before James had accepted it. On her 10th day of living with them (a celebration Sirius insisted required an ice cream cake) all reservations about her completely imploded because there was no arguing that she belonged with them and they belonged with her. When he woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, he wasn’t at all shocked to find her and Remus reviewing chemical formulas at 3am on a Tuesday. Like of course they were, why wouldn't they be. It felt even less surprising that he just walked himself over and sat on the ground in front of her and stole her flashcards so he could quiz them both. It felt only natural when he saw her and Sirius getting ready to go to spin class together, even though Sirius never brings James to spin class with him anymore because of the one time he fell off his bike and caused a ruckus. He’s barely even confused when he ends up at a sunrise yoga class with her even though he had never been awake to see sunrise a day in his life. He’s even less surprised to learn that he enjoyed it immensely and had never been so happy to be up that early. He tells himself that it's just the impact of the yoga that he is in such a good mood but knows it has a lot more to do with the laughing goddess in the downward dog next to him.

They get glared at all through the class because he keeps whispering things to her and making her giggle and then he becomes so transfixed by her laugh that he loses his balance and falls out of his pose, almost toppling the woman next to him. She laughs so hard her face matches her hair and giggles every time she looks at him for the rest of class.

And then it’s Sunday and Blokes Brunch easily becomes “Lily, let’s go time for brunch” and when she pops the champagne (which had always been James’s job but he couldn't’ even fight her properly for it) he sees the sparkle in her eyes so much clearer than the sparkle in the drink and he lets himself actually see her and oh my god did she look good.

It still hurts when they see a picture of Peter on facebook or in Snapchat memories but slowly their memories start to fill up with green eyes and red hair and lovely smiles. It is no surprise when just the suggestion of her moving out became criminal. It was no surprise to any of them except for James when she stopped sleeping in her room and started sleeping across the hall with James. None of it was how the Marauders expected their lives to be at all but there was also more joy and warmth and love than any of them could have ever predicted.

#happy jilytober #jilytober #jily #drabble #mywriting #James Potter #lily evans #maurauders era

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