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kim-ruzek · 3 years ago

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Girl Crush

Summary: This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

Or; at the end of 3x23, Sylvie doesn't go home with Roman-- but instead with Kim. And gets the fucking she deserves.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. This is just my excuse to give Sylvie the orgasm she deserves and the one she clearly did not get with Ratman. And so there's also Roman bashing bc Roman is trash.

Word Count: 4.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: For @gilbxrt-blythe bc Abby started™ something in my mind on Sunday, thus leading me to writing this all yesterday bc,,, our girls deserve so much better than Sean Roman and this fandom needs more wlw content. Let's save our darling girls!!

Someone’s hooking up tonight.

Chili’s words go around in Sylvie’s head all night. Largely, she ignores them—or rather, tries to—just focusing on the beer she’s sipping faster than usual and the joyous atmosphere in the bar but there’s those moments it creeps into her thoughts.

Her PIC is right about one thing, the thing she said about volcanoes. The firehouse has been so tense of late and she can tell that a weight has been lifted off them, and Sylvie thinks that’s quite like a volcano. But she—perhaps, stubbornly—refuses to admit Chili might be right about the hooking up part.

If anyone was to know Sylvie’s thoughts, know that she’s trying, more vehemently that she should, to deny that, they question why. To which Sylvie would just claim that it’s because she hates gossiping about her co-workers, people who are her friends are family, and that she doesn’t like speculating on their sex lives.

Sylvie even tried to insist this to herself, not that it works. How can it when she can feel her toes curl slightly at the thought of just... Throwing everything to the wind and just enjoying some pure, unadulterated primal ecstasy. That she finds herself subconsciously looking around the bar, as if she’s trying to find a suitable candidate.

She has always felt the weight of her friends’ turmoil so heavily. Empathetic to the core, her father said, when he grinned at her becoming a paramedic, telling her it’s what she was born to do. She likes it, she does. She likes caring about those important to her, to care about anyone who’s a decent human—and even those who aren’t—but it gets tiring, feeling the weight of their unhappiness on her shoulders.

It’s not even like she was directly wrapped up in the drama going around in the house, but it was so intense—a volcano getting ready to burst. And something tells her that she won’t be able to shake it off with just getting drunk amongst her friends.

“Hey, Brett,” Sylvie looks to her left, seeing Sean Roman slip into the seat beside her. The paramedic smiles at him, ever polite, turning so she’s more face on to him. He was close to her before she shifted, and she thought that would be annoying, if he wanted to converse.

Only, Sylvie quickly gets that he doesn’t have talking on mind.

The patrol officer is quick to close the space between them again, shifting himself and resting a hand on the back edge of her seat. She could get away if she wanted, but it gives off a certain trapped vibe, a vibe that shows exactly the kind of intentions Roman has.

There’s a twist of uncomfortableness in her stomach. Roman is sort of attractive, she guesses, although she doesn’t know if she’d fully trust her taste in men yet; there being too many wrongly stacked choices compared to the right. But even if he was the hottest specimen she had ever seen, there’s something off putting about his approach, leaving her with the impression he doesn’t want her to move away from him.

But there’s that volcano inside her, wanting to explode, and the alcohol is already coursing through her veins, so despite the sober parts of her brain metaphorically screwing up its nose at the officer, Sylvie doesn’t attempt to move again, instead leaning on her arm, interested in whatever he has to say.

“I’ve got a few more interesting stories like that, if you want to hear more?” Roman smiles hungrily at her, his eyes making her feel like a piece of meat. He had just finished telling her an amusing story from patrol and she gets the impression that’s his hook, and that now he’s trying to reel her in.

“The bar’s a bit loud, though. So we should go back to mine,” There it is, the beginning of the reel. He’s looking hopeful at her, and there’s an attempt to look appealing, sexy. It doesn’t work, but Sylvie finds herself shrugging, thinking that she could do a lot worse that Sean Roman.

“Hey, Sylvie. Roman.” Before she can agree, Kim appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

The brunette is on the other side of her, her arm lightly touching her as she greets them. In a way, Kim is affectively penning Sylvie in like her partner did, but it doesn’t make her stomach twist in that same uncomfortable way. There’s some meaning to that, she knows, but she doesn’t bother to reflect on what.

“Hey, Burgess.” Roman seems irked. He’s looking at her rather rudely, and Sylvie doesn’t like that. She cares about her friends and Kim is one of her first Chicago friends who doesn’t work with her. So she grins at her a little wider then she already would, wrapping her arms around the other officer.

“Hey, Kim!” If Roman picks up on the pointedness in Sylvie’s tone, he doesn’t let on.

“Hi,” Kim smiles at her again, repeating a greeting before continuing and Sylvie must be a little more tipsy than she thought because her mind is immediately drawn to how pretty Kim looks when she smiles. “Chili had to leave early and asked me if I could drive you home instead. She said sorry, but there was a cute guy who she needed to know a bit better,”

Sylvie knows instantly that Kim is lying. Chili asked no such thing, considering she wanted to get absolutely wasted tonight and had no intention of driving herself home, let alone Sylvie. This lie is an anchor, a get out of jail card, a bailout. For who, she doesn’t know—doesn’t think that she’s too drunk to need it, but she takes it anyway.

“Oh, she promised she wouldn’t!” Sylvie goes along with the lie Kim has spun. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,”

“Eh. It’s no problem.” Kim shrugs her off with a wave of a hand.

“I was actually about to leave myself. I can take Brett, you can just relax. That way I can continue telling her some patrol stories,” Roman inserts himself back in the conversation but Kim has no patience for him.

“We’re partners, I can tell her the stories. C’mon, Sylvie, let’s go.” Kim gently encourages Sylvie up. There’s a disappointment at not being able to expend all this tension away, but girl code is more important, and girl code is telling her to go with Kim.

“We have to walk around the block—I don’t actually have my car, so we’ll have to call a taxi.” Kim tells her when they leave Molly’s, arms linked. Neither of them are anything more than tipsy, but Sylvie finds herself giggling at her words.

“Then why did you drag me out? Was a guy bothering you?” She asks.

“Oh, trust me, I did that for you. You’d regret that so much tomorrow. The guy’s my partner and all, but he... I was on patrol with his ex. Going there—that wouldn’t give you any sort of satisfaction.” Kim explains, and Sylvie widens her eyes, giggling again.

“Really?” The irony of Sylvie spending the evening denying that she cares about gossip saying this, leaning in with intrigue, is not lost on her.

“Jenn didn’t say anything outright but... I asked why she got engaged so quickly and she expressed that he—her fiancé—is very talented with his tongue, if you get what I mean. I inferred the rest. A man who won’t eat out his girl is not a man worth your time.” Kim says very manner of fact, and Sylvie laughs at it, the brunette joining in shortly after.

“It’s the truth!” Kim insists through her laughter. They’ve walked around the corner, now, Kim quickly dialling for a taxi through her laughs.

“My ex fiancé never did.” Sylvie confesses when their laughter died down. Kim lifts an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never. He said it was disgusting. Didn’t stop him wanting me to suck him, though.” Sylvie can’t help the bitter edge to her words, thinking about Harrison and thinking about how she could waste her time on him. Kim, evidently, thinks the same.

“Life is too short for those kinds of men.” Kim says. Her words are assured, confident, just a statement and Sylvie just hums in response, thinking that Kim probably never wasted years like she did.

“Hey, Sylvie. I don’t mean that like... You deserve so much better.” Kim picks up on her sudden drop of mood. “I don’t know why we lower ourselves for arses like that, but you deserve so much better. Better than people like Harrison and Roman.”

“So do you—if your exes never..?” Sylvie quickly adds on and Kim lets out a snort.

“Oh yeah. I’ve dated my fair share of arseholes.” She nods. “I don’t know why they’re like this. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how anyone could want to fuck you and not completely worship you.”

This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

It deepens Sylvie’s blush.

The air between them immediately shifts, and it feels almost so natural, Sylvie finds herself questioning whether the air always felt this thick and charged. The air is heavy, and there’s this certain kind of electricity between them; an electric energy of sorts that reminds her of when she was eighteen and her friends and her caught a ride into the nearest big town and snuck into the club—and of Sylvie waiting outside for her friends after and sharing her first—and only—kiss with a girl.

“That’s cos we’re women, though? We know what we want.” Sylvie tries to push all those thoughts aside.

Tries to ignore what she feels building in the air—because surely, it’s just in her mind? Just because she was thinking about throwing caution to the wind and having a night of passionate, explosive sex—and tries to not focus on how pretty Kim looks, how she looks like she’s the best and worst decision she could ever make wrapped up in one.

On how Kim is looking at her with such intense eyes, almost hungry eyes, eyes that says she wants to be one of those men.

“That’s not just why. I wouldn’t just eat you out until you come screaming because I’m a woman, I’d do it because I want to make you come undone at my doing—like you deserve.” Kim’s words sends pulsating throbs through her body, and she can feel herself getting turned on, her body feeling like Kim has just found the secret code to her with just her words. Sylvie stares at Kim, with shock.

“You... I... What?” Sylvie splutters, unsure of what exactly Kim is saying.

“I’m just saying. You’re hot, Brett. I can see why Roman tried.” There’s a pause. “I’m not trying to ruin our friendship. Tell me if I’m wrong, that I’m not picking up on some things and I’ll shut up and just get you home. But if I’m right, I’ll fuck you right.”

“I...” Sylvie is facing Kim dead on, now, the space between them feeling like too much, electric and heavy. It’s dark, the only light being the street lamp. But it catches the side of Kim’s face, lighting it up in such a pretty way and it stirs something deep and primal inside her.

The dark, positively hungry eyes Kim is looking at her with doesn’t help, either. It’s not like earlier, with Roman, it doesn’t make her feel like a piece of meat. It makes her feel like she’s the world’s most precious delicacy and that Kim would give her left arm just to get a taste.

“You’re right.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Kim is closing the space between them. One of her arms slips around the blonde’s waist, pulling her flush to her, the other gently resting on the bend of Sylvie’s neck as she kisses her.

Kim’s lips are soft, her touch gentle. The kiss starts off slow, although Sylvie wouldn’t have thought it with the way her body immediately responds, aching and her heart beating. But then Kim deepens the kiss, encouraging her mouth to open wider, slipping in her tongue. Sylvie responds eagerly, her arms wrapping around Kim, practically grabbing hold of her so she can return the kiss more fiercely.

If this was a preview into the abilities of Kim’s tongue, Sylvie doesn’t think that she’ll have to work her long before—to use Kim’s words—Sylvie’s coming undone at her doing.

When the taxi arrives, honking it’s horn on the two, busy kissing each other like they’re the only people in the world, the alcohol running through their veins and their and respective tiring days edging them on, making them so filled with want for this, they pull apart, out of breath, chest heaving.

They share smiles, little light-hearted giggles as they pull apart, climbing into the taxi. Kim opens the door, grabbing at Sylvie’s hand as she does so before moving swiftly out the way so she can climb in first.

They don’t make out in the taxi. They’re not even jammed up too close together, their bodies just turned towards each other. They are close enough for them to still have their hands interlocked, although it’s more like their arms at places and for their feet to lightly tap at the other’s, playing a footsy kind of game but they’re friends, they shared a taxi before, they’ve even had this ease of physical contact before.

Sylvie would almost wouldn’t be able to tell that the line between friends and lovers had been blurred for tonight, if it wasn’t for the electric energy between them, from how Sylvie’s just waiting until they can get back to hers, and how whenever Kim moves her fingers up and down her arm, gently running against her skin, it feels like little shocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to yours,” Kim says as Sylvie leads her up the stairs. They’re deviating between holding hands and not, joking around as they make their way. Sometimes Kim’s spinning ahead of her, their hands dropping from their grip, and sometimes Sylvie is.

“We have only known each other a year and we have busy jobs.” Sylvie points out. Kim sticks out her tongue playfully and Sylvie has to stop herself from capturing it, and kissing Kim again. “This is me.”

Sylvie goes in first, opening her front door and placing her keys in her pot. Kim follows, and Sylvie watches as the brunette kicks off her shoes immediately, shrugging off her coat. For someone who’s never been here before, Kim fills the air with a confidence and it only fuels Sylvie’s need, her own confidence as the volcano erupts.

With a swift kick, Sylvie shuts her door and then her hands are on Kim, pulling her close. She grabs her hand, stopping her from moving further away from her, pulling her to her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Hm,” Kim moans against her, kissing her with a casual, yet urgent force. The melodic hum is tinted in amusement, and she pulls away briefly, to Sylvie’s disappointment. “So, we’re going straight to this? Aren’t even going to ask if I want a beer?”

Her words are said in an amused tone, but Sylvie still finds herself blushing, cursing herself slightly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Do you—” She’s interrupted by Kim kissing her.

“You’re so easy to tease. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to drink. Eat, maybe.” Sylvie goes to panic again but then she sees the glint sparkling away in her eye and she blushes, getting the play on words.

“Hm, well there’s only one thing on the menu if you’re,” she pauses, “Hungry,”

Sylvie could swear that Kim licks her lips but then the brunette is kissing her again and all thoughts go out of her head, the only thing on her mind being the taste of Kim and getting her to her bedroom as soon as she can.

Neither of them are determined to disconnect from one another for long, not even in the interest in getting to her bed unscathed from injuries. Kim hits into the sofa and Sylvie nearly trips over something she left on the floor, but the two stay touching, kissing each other hungrily and needily.

Sylvie would love to say that she savoured the moment Kim took off her top, but any clothes removed is done hastily, urgently, the clothes feeling too much, too intrusive. All Sylvie can do is give Kim a quick, appreciative look over after she tosses off her top.

Although, she thinks, that could do more with that Kim then helps her get her top off, and rewards her with her lips on her neck immediately after.

“There,” Sylvie manages to gasp out, pointing at which door is her bedroom’s, as Kim pushes her up against her wall, attacking her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. She’s going to have a mark there tomorrow, but tonight, tonight she doesn’t care, just tilting her head aside for her to have more access, her hands just grabbing at Kim as she does so.

Despite the urgency to get this far into her apartment, Kim has apparently decided they don’t need to finish the stretch right now, focusing on kissing along her collarbone, back up along her neck and jawline, stealing kisses from her lips before heading back down. She doesn’t go too far down with her kisses, but it’s enough to send Sylvie’s mind haywire, especially when she brushes along with her teeth.

All Sylvie can do is grab at Kim’s hair, the other hand resting on her waist, running up and down her back with her nails and moan at the kisses, grasping at her. One of Sylvie’s legs loops around Kim’s in a kind of way, pulling her lower body closer to her own, in the perfect place for Sylvie to grind against, needing to alleviate some tension.

It’s only when Kim’s hand snakes away from it’s current position and runs along the waistband of her jeans, deftly undoing her button and slipping inside does Sylvie gasp, pushing at Kim slightly. Kim’s hand is still cold from the cool Chicago night air, and Sylvie can feel the cold as Kim runs her hand against the cotton of her panties, lightly brushing over her throbbing clit.

“Bedroom. Kim, bedroom,” Sylvie gasps.

“Hm. Impatient, are we?” Kim grins at her, and Sylvie can’t help comparing it to a wolf looking at it’s prey. The brunette is so sweet and kind, Sylvie never would’ve guessed that she was like this—so confident and devious—in the bedroom. Or, rather, the hallway. But Sylvie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim steps away from Sylvie then, and she immediately misses the warmth of her body, and her hand's presence from where it was so close to where she wants—no, needs—her. She’s going into Sylvie’s bedroom, beckoning the blonde to follow.

Sylvie is starting to rather feel like putty in Kim’s hands, and she’s never been a passive participant in her sex life—well, except when she lets men (Harrison) rule how she should be—and she’s not about to start.

She follows Kim on through, and she already has an advantage knowing the layout of her bedroom. Sylvie’s hands are on Kim again, and she’s leading, practically pushing, Kim to her bed, the brunette having no choice but to lie down on it, Sylvie immediately straddling her.

“Not a very good cop, are you?” Sylvie teases her, and when Kim goes to protest, she grinds down slightly, knowing exactly where it’ll cause friction. It has the desired effect, Kim moaning, her eyes fluttering shut slightly. Her hands are resting of Sylvie’s hips, and they go up then, stroking at the soft skin of her stomach.

“Bra, off. Now,” Kim says, running a hand along the edge of the bra. Sylvie grins wickedly at her, wondering why Kim ever thought she still had the upper hand, to doll out an order.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Sylvie shifts down Kim slightly, resting more weight on her own kneeled legs, allowing for Kim to sit up. The brunette clearly thinks it’s so she can help Sylvie with the bra, but Sylvie catches her hands, stopping her, and instead undoes Kim’s bra.

Sylvie’s never been intimate with a woman like this. There’s been those dreams—day dreams and actual dreams—that she spent a while trying to ignore, and thinking she’ll never act upon. But she’s never, physically, been with one and whereas her confidence has gotten her this far, she falters as Kim takes off her bra.

There’s that hesitation, that hesitation that she wants Kim—needs Kim—that this is exactly how she wants to explode tonight, but there’s that knowledge that she’s inexperienced in this, hitting her as she’s confronted with Kim’s naked chest.

“Is this too much?” Kim picks up straight away that Sylvie is having a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, turning concerned. “We can stop or just make out. Whatever you want—consent still applies with two women, y’know, and I won’t mind.”

Sylvie looks at her, Kim’s voice so gentle and caring, her big, brown eyes only filled with concerned, and something inside her throbs and Sylvie’s hesitation wears off as she realises that there’s nothing to be intimidated by, and Kim won’t mind if she has to guide her a little.

“Nah, I’m just taking your beauty in.” Sylvie jokes, before adding more seriously, “This is exactly what I want, Kim.”

“Good.” Kim smiles. “Because I’m feeling that we should even things here.”

Sylvie should’ve know that Kim would take off her bra as soon as she could, the brunette raking her eyes greedily over her body. She grabs at Sylvie’s thighs, positioning her in a way that she can sit on her and they can kiss with ease.

Kim doesn’t spend long kissing her lips before she’s travelling again, her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back as she kisses down her neck, collarbone, going between kisses and nips. Sylvie tries to adjust herself so that she can kiss the dip of Kim’s shoulder as she does so, but Kim tries her hardest to stop any attempts, not wanting to be restricted in her own explorations.

When Kim’s mouth gets to her chest, she pauses. Sylvie has barely any time to wonder what will happen next when Kim’s hand is palming one breast, making her gasp in surprise. The brunette lifts her mouth from her body, instead taking advantage of her agape mouth, kissing her deep. And then she’s moving them, laying Sylvie down, shifting who’s winning this lustful game of cat and mouse they’re playing.

Kim doesn’t straddle her like Sylvie did earlier, just making them vertical, Kim between her legs. She’s squeezing her breast again, and then her mouth is around the other’s nipple, rolling her tongue around it, and Sylvie lets out a loud moan she’d almost be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so good. Kim works her like this for god knows how long before switching.

And then Kim is once again pulling away and Sylvie pouts, to Kim’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kim coos at her. “I’m just taking off your jeans so I can fuck you with my mouth.”

Sylvie never knew hearing Kim swear could sound so hot.

“Your jeans too. I was you as naked as I am,” She doesn’t know how she still has brain power to compose thoughts, focused so much on the needy ache in her body.

Kim steps off the bed so that she can shimmy off her jeans. Her panties match the bra she was wearing and Sylvie couldn’t even describe how much that made her desire spike. She wonders if Kim was working today and if she changed before going to Molly’s—curious to know if Kim wore such lacy stuff to work.

Surely not? Sylvie sure as hell doesn’t, let alone wearing a matching set.

“Like what you see?” Kim flirts before climbing back onto the bed, immediately getting to work on helping Sylvie get off her own jeans. There’s a moment when they’re off that Sylvie gets momentarily self conscious of her near-naked body, but then Kim’s running a finger along her panties again, pressing down on her clit through the fabric.

The sound it elicits from her is a mix between a gasp, moan and whine.

“Kim,” Sylvie practically begs as she releases the pressure, resuming to gentle barely there strokes as she returns her mouth to her breasts, collarbone and neck. Kim seems to get the message because then she’s—with skill that makes Sylvie wonder just how many times Kim has done this—hooking her fingers around her panties and taking them off.

She doesn’t hesitate to resume her actions, now without the fabric in the way. Kim dips a finger inside her, her thumb brushing against her clit with differentiating levels of pressure and Sylvie can’t help but shut her eyes and moan at the sensation, Kim working her with her talented fingers.

“You’re so wet,” Kim whispers into her ear, nibbling against her jawline before adding another finger. She laughs hotly against her as Sylvie tightens, squeezing Kim’s fingers. She’s just about used to the feeling, and the motions, a pressure inside her building, but then Kim’s pulling them out and she’s whining.

And then Kim’s pulling away from her, and Sylvie just about opens her eyes, lifting up her head, in time to see down her body, looking devilishly. And then Kim’s licking her and it’s everything she’s wanted, needed, and her head is falling back down. Kim works her with her mouth, and all Sylvie can think is about how indeed, Kim is mightily skilled with her tongue.

The tension in Sylvie builds quickly, fast approaching her orgasm, Kim lapping at her and using her fingers to add that extra sensation, rubbing and pinching, alternating between making she’s in place and fondling her breasts and Sylvie’s gripping at her covers, gasping and whining as she writhes, overwhelmed at the sensations.

All thoughts have left her mind, and all Sylvie can focus on is the quick approaching climax, not caring about how lost in it she must be—not caring how loud she’s being, how unfiltered and uncontrolled she is, just focused on how good Kim is making her feel.

And then she reaches her climax, Kim is taking her over and she gets her wish—it’s everything Sylvie has needed, and she screams, full of ecstasy, her body overcome with sensation, toes curling as she comes around Kim’s tongue, the brunette continuing to lap at her, guiding her through her orgasm.

“That...” Sylvie pants as soon as she can. “That—exactly what I needed.”

It’s not perfect grammar, but she thinks Kim gets it, if how she smiles and moves so she’s cuddling against Sylvie, is any indication.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago fire #kim burgess x sylvie brett #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.smut #ree.wlw

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oristromboli · 4 years ago

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If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 6

Chapter Title: Punishment

The fierce sounds of arguments melt into clashing weapons in the Liyue landscape as all frustrations are released in bloody fury.

Punishment is thus dolled out on the sore, sore loser.

(Smut this chapter: Reader/Childe, M/F)

(Warnings: rough and angry sex after a fight, power dynamic struggles, being very very mean to each other - not a fluffy first time between them given that it's Childe and his implied mission. please be careful if this isn’t your cup of tea!)

CW: the first segment describes Childe making a hunt! Canon-typical violence, but just in case: one paragraph starts with "Childe kneels down - " and another one is "With a firm - "

Childe takes a slow breath in, and on his exhale, releases the arrow, watching as it sinks into the boar’s side.

Damn, he was never good with a bow. He strolls leisurely up to the animal, frowning when he notices the pitiful struggle as it tries to move despite the mortal wound. Poor thing thinks it still has a chance.

Childe kneels down and reaches out to the pig, running his hands gently through the matted fur. He watches as its breathing becomes labored; each unsteady drag likely pushes its lungs against the arrow. How many ways did he watch the abyss deny death to the unfortunate prey wandering in? A quick death was mercy never granted in that suffocating darkness.

He feels black armor fighting to grow from his skin, feels the electricity pulling him taut as he smiles softly, running his hand up to cup the boar’s head.

With a firm twist, Childe snaps its neck and the body goes limp.

Blood from the arrow wound trickles onto his gloves, and he raises his hand to lick it idly away. His frown returns when he realizes that the flaming need in him is barely sated.

Warbled and demented noises creep up towards him from between the cracks in the earth.

Grunting, he hoists the animal over his shoulders and starts walking again while whistling a lullaby.

---

Birds call overhead while the wind rustles through the emerald leaves around you in this little outcrop by the river. The sun felt warm, kissing the back of your neck gently as you took in your surroundings, counting each fish that crested the surface as they leaped further upstream.

Though you normally take these moments of isolation to regain your internal serenity, you didn’t necessarily hate the fact that Childe insisted on tagging along. Yet, confusion still wrung your head as to why he came along on a commission so far off the beaten path. Even Aether would complain at such a wildlife excursion.

“Hey girlie,” Childe calls, grinning wide and bubbles up a rare, genuine laugh when he sees your surprised expression. “I got lunch!”

Your eyes bulge as you watch him carrying one of the largest boars you’ve ever seen with a skip in his step like the animal weighed nothing. When he drops it unceremoniously to the ground, you hear the resounding thud and decide firmly that yes, Teyvat’s animals are ridiculous.

Childe cracks his knuckles and materializes his hydro knife to kneel at its side, and you just… You just watch.

Some deeply primitive part of you is hooting like a shameless dog as you watch him handle the meat with ease. Good man. Strong man. Can feed and protect.

“ – girlie, hey, you listening?”

You shake your head and blink at him. He starts laughing and gestures to the fireplace. “O-oh, right!” In a flash, you turn your back to him to hide the rising heat to your cheeks. “Um… That’s a lot of meat, you know.”

“Well, nobody ever complained to me about that, pretty bird.”

Nevermind. Big, strong man gone. “Why are you always cracking jokes? It’s like you never take things seriously.”

Childe pauses for a moment, stilling his hands. He never looks at you before he resumes skinning the boar, though you recognize the flash of a bygone memory nonetheless. “Nothing wrong in trying to get people to laugh occasionally in this shithole of a world. What else can you do? Tell your siblings that this place isn’t the fairytale they grew up believing in?”

You swallow and nod. Some time passes, and as you finish setting up the makeshift stove, it occurs to you that… There’s two of you. And one very big, very fat pig.

You’ll need a bigger fire.

“Hey, how do you plan on cooking this?”

“You’ll see.”

---

An hour later and you’re in awe at how good the food is. The meat is practically melting off the bone as you eat the roasted pork, slight drool dribbling down.

Childe just stares as you lick your lips. “Did you learn this in Fatui boot camp or something?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice a pitch lower. “Closer to the ‘or something’ part though.”

Idle chatter starts between you two, soft banter and long talks about nothing. You ask about his past, he gives curt answers and you do the same, but there’s this silent understanding between you two about it. There’s little to say on the matter as neither party wants to remember. At least that’s something you have in common with Childe.

“So, along your travels,” he starts, wiping his mouth with a crimson handkerchief. “Did you come across any gods? Besides our resident funeral consultant, of course.”

“A few,” you reply. “Some also stepped down to join mortals too, but in those lands, they gave up their full divinity instead of just the title.”

“Why anybody would ever give up power willingly is beyond me.”

You laugh, though it sounds more vindicative than you intended. “Don’t you know? The gods envy mortals because their lives are fleeting and any moment can be their last. It’s all the more beautiful to them.”

Childe narrows his eyes. “Who said that? Seems to me the gods here don’t really care for us.”

You smile bitterly. “Yeah, I can see your point. The gods in Teyvat are different, but what about Zhongli? Don’t you trust him?”

“Ha, I trust him to pursue his own self-interests. If they align with mine, then great, there’s no problems between us. He’s reliable and stubborn. Shockingly, he has my honest loyalty, and I trust I can predict his next move.”

“Always the tactician.” You both chuckle at the thought. “I would’ve thought there was more than that.” You pray he doesn’t realize how you test the waters, and with the way he looks in the distance, you’re safe.

“You’re not wrong. I care about him. He drives me insane, but come hell or high water, he’ll be my friend to the bitter end.”

Friend. Your heart throbs again, though in deliverance or bewilderment for their strange relationship, you’re not sure.

“With your powers, were you ever seen as one?” Childe says, breaking your thoughts.

“A god? Sometimes, though only if people haven’t seen real divinity. We were also called demons. Unnatural. We keep to ourselves mostly and avoid too much trouble, but with our powers sealed, we don’t even have that going for us. We’re not really welcome among humans or divine, hah.” His eyes relax briefly, shifting to an indescribable emotion. There’s something in them, some light of understanding.

You hate it.

“Don’t act like you care,” you say, turning away and hugging yourself. Yeah, you know you’re being unfair, but you can’t handle Childe’s pity at the moment. He sighs as he tosses his leftovers over his shoulder and tries putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey – “

“Don’t.”

“I don’t care. Look at me,” he says, tone sharp and commanding you to listen. During easy exchanges, it became so easy to gloss over the fact that Childe is, indeed, a general of the Fatui.

He’s all but glaring down at you, matching your petulant stare. “What is with you? I’ve been trying to fix things between us, but I’m starting to feel like I’m the only one. This goes both ways, you know.”

“Us? There is no us, Childe. It’s just you. It’s always been about what you want,” you seethe. Stars, you sounded so much like a kid, but some sick part of you is enjoying this. All your words are underhanded and you both know it. “Did you even care? At any point, any at all, did you care?”

His blue eyes slowly widen as realization dawns on him. “Ah. You’re still mad about that. About me using you, huh?”

“What the f – Yes, I’m still mad! Congratulations, you’ve got a pair of eyes. Don’t you know that I – nevermind.”

“No, say it,” he says, placing both hands on each of your shoulders now and caging you in. His face leaves no room for argument as he says your real name. “Say it. Don’t back out now.”

“Stars, you stupid, selfish son of a – “

“Hey, don’t you bring my mother into this,” he says, though a lopsided grin works its way onto his face regardless.

“Very funny, Childe. I just… I kept it, you know? It’s no Mr. Cyclops, but it’s still mine,” you say, looking down. His eyes flick to the starconch dangling from your journal.

“You didn’t have to,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on your shoulders.

“Of course I did. I made a promise to you, and I have a feeling you’re the type to actually cut my pinkie off.”

“Ha. Who’s being funny now?”

You shake your head. “My question still stands: did you care? I’ve forgiven you – you know that – but I’m mad because… I need to know if our friendship was...”

When you look up again, he’s – oh holy – when did he get so close? His deep blue eyes are resolute and you’re holding your breath. Childe is close enough that you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him as his lips parts. “Honestly? I didn’t at the time.”

Oh. Of course not.

You close your eyes as you feel your heart plummet to your stomach. Great. Just fantastic. Nothing can get worse than this.

“But now…”

His fingers gently grab your chin and lift up as he tilts his own down at you. “I can’t remember that time without guilt. When I saw how Teucer showered you all with adoration, it just reminded me of what we had.”

“What we had? What was that? Friend? Enemy? Sparring partner?” You scoff and lean out of the space he made that threatened to suffocate you. “I don’t want to believe a word you’re saying, because even though I’ve been honest every step of the way – “ You pull his right hand off your left shoulder and lock a pinkie with it. “ – I can guarantee that you haven’t.”

Do you feel a sense of joy when you release his hand with a glare?

“You’re no better than the gods you hate.”

When he has the gall to look offended?

Yeah, you do, and know what? Fuck him.

Suddenly, your hand is harshly yanked up as he leans close again, locking a pinkie before you can escape. “You don’t want to believe me? Fine. But don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same for your duty if push came to shove. At least this time I had the decency to tell you why I’m here, why I’m ‘using’ you again. You beat me to it though, or did you forget?”

Childe sneers, fury now raging in those watery depths. “I’m not mad, I’m happy that you’re as shrewd as you are strong. Yes, I didn’t care then. Yes, I care now, even if I don’t regret it. I want to leave that in the past because today, this moment, is all that matters. C’mon, eye for an eye.”

“What are you even talking about?” You’re seething now, matching his frustration. Seriously, he can’t spout this crap and expect you to suddenly understand. “I am not doing this with you, to you, whatever ‘this’ is. Despite being upset, you’re still my friend.”

“No, we weren’t just friends and you know it,” he growls. “Or enemies. So just give the word and get it over with, comrade. Fight me, use me, do something and get it out of your system.”

He’s… He’s crazy, he’s just insane, you have to get out of here. You swiftly stand and pull your hand away, staring down at him. “I said no, Childe. Not everything is a battle. I can’t believe you… You would think that. Think that I’m no better than the people who treated you like some pawn.”

You sigh and turn away, but your hand is yanked behind you again. May the stars give you patience.

When he turns you, he’s looking at you with a familiar glint as his lips curl. It’s the same expression he wore in the aftermath of Osial.

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to them. You aren’t one of those out-of-touch bastards. I just… I wasn’t sure what else to do to get you to believe me.”

Who would’ve thought a Harbinger could be so maudlin. Torpor replaced your irritation and quiet resignation flickered in your mind. Why you still bickering with him? It’s pointless.

You take the hand holding you and bring it up to the center of your chest.

He freezes and stares at his hand, breathes growing shallow and quick.

“This is going nowhere. Leave it in the past, right? There’s always more to argue over, ha.”

When you squeeze his hand, you smile at him, meeting his bloodthirsty eyes. “You’re right, Childe. Let’s get this out of our system.”

You don’t want to, you really, really don’t, but seeing the way his shoulders relax with barely contained relief shoves that regret aside. Childe was never the best with words – while his fellow Harbingers wove tale after tale with silver tongues, he simply collected others’ tongues with that sharpened silver.

As you both pace yourselves apart, you pull out your journal, long modified to be a weapon of sorts in this world. You know you are at a severe disadvantage as you were never great with other tools, so you had to find a way to either stay out of his range – difficult with his bow – or get close enough to his personal space to land a direct blow with energy gathered in your hands – difficult with his water shields.

Childe summons his hydro blades and begins twirling them, head bowed as he watches your every step. Slowly, you circle one another as both try to find weak points to exploit. His eyes are nothing short of predatory, and as his lips barely twitch into a snarl, you’re once again reminded of just who is in front of you.

Tartaglia, the Vanguard of the Harbingers, whose arrogant and ruthless madness could only be soothed on the battlefield. He’s not so much like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but a monster in wolf’s clothing.

On instinct, you immediately tilt your head as an arrow whistles past your ear, nicking the edge. You feel warmth trickle down and your ear stings something fierce as you start to dodge his incoming folly of arrows.

Is it too late to back out? Like, right now? You can handle the proverbial tail between your legs but you cannot handle –

You curse as water rises from the river to wrap around your ankle and shackles you when you drew too close. Cruel laughter bubbles to your left as you turn and see him charging, serrated blades out for the slaughter.

When he gets close enough to leap, nearly too close for comfort, you immediately summon a wall of stone in front of you. A soft thud echoes, so you form a fist and push the wall forward and away from you as the hydro chains break with Childe’s concentration shifting to his predicament.

Normally, you would be more prepared and calculating in your attacks, but the sheer ruthlessness of his onslaught took you by surprise.

Russet-colored hair juts out from the top as he leaps up and over, twirling in the air. With a clear opening, you reach out energetically to the smattering of small – yet sharp – stones around you to use as projectiles. He laughs as he slices each stone, but your goal of interrupting his trajectory is accomplished.

Childe lands a distance away as you sprint farther back, summoning small pillars of stone between you two as he immediately chases after. Though he’s chaotic, his movements are somewhat predictable; you summon one stone in a bluff to get him to move to his right to dodge, but immediately slam another stone to his ribs on his side from the direction he moved towards.

He grunts, but hardly flinches as you see him double his efforts in chasing you. Belatedly, you realize he’s been herding you towards the massive waterfall the entire time. Either you finish him here or he finishes you there with the elemental advantage.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re not as fast as Aether, this is why you stay on the backline, fuck –

Childe’s lance smashes the shoddy stones rising quicker in your panic to separate you two. Not your finest work, but it’s a bit hard to focus on their construction when you have a maniac sent from hell on your ass, thank you. When you see how he leaps from your most recent stone, utilizing the momentum in its rise to propel himself forward, you tuck tail and run.

Safe to say, two thoughts occur as he tackles you and his iron grip is wrapped around your body to restrict movement as you both tumble along the ground.

One, you’re absolutely torn between humiliation and feeling shameless as you realize your undergarments are soaked with his husky pants filling your ears. His head tucked against your own in the roll.

There’s definitely something wrong with you, you decide, since you were nothing short of terrified two seconds earlier.

Two, when your head slams against the ground and you open your bleary eyes, you realize how lovely the snapdragon flowers lining the riverbank are this time of year.

You hiss as you feel heavy thighs cage your arms to your side and look up. Childe is leering down at you and snarling as his right hand curls into a fist, purple lightning slowly dancing across it. His left hand glows blue as you recognize the sensation of the infamous riptide mark forming over your chest, eyes glazed over with concentration.

In a moment of paralyzing horror, you realize just how far from civilization you two are.

Ha, haha, good one Childe. He’s… He’s playing, right? This was just friendly brawling. Ha. Oh shit.

He’s not slowing down.

When his hand clamps on your shoulder to still your frantic movements, you whine – high and feeble – at the pain blooming from his grip. For a split second, he falters as his eyes regain clarity, hand loosening a fraction to no longer being unyielding. You take the opportune distraction to flick your hand and throw a stone to his chest.

It’s not much, not without the power of your book – now discarded somewhere – but it does the job as he is knocked to the side and off of you.

In the action, you scramble to keep with the flow and slam him on his back, perching on his chest as your hands glow with accumulating geo energy.

Seeing his soft pants, a sparkle in his eyes, and how blood trickles down his forehead, the shattering in your heart is deafening when you realize how young he looks. His laughter is wet and harsh as his arms are splayed.

“Do it,” he grunts. “End the fight, ‘cause I won’t stop.”

No. No, you’re not doing this.

“Aw, is little birdie too scared?”

You lower your hand and wrap it around his throat, and stars, is his grin growing?

“Come on, just do it – “

“Shut up,” you hiss, leaning forward. “Stop it Childe, I’m not punishing you.”

“What if I want you to?”

You freeze as your mouth parts in a silent gasp, his expression never faltering. When you jump back, you grind against something hard and insistent against your ass, and oh. Was this his plan all along…?

Childe’s hands fly to your hips and pull you down, and oh fuck, a moan fumbles from your lips before you harshly cut it off. Your eyes glance down to see his hooded eyes and he’s panting as he watches you. “Pretty bird is suddenly backing out now? So weak, you won’t even take your venge – “

His words are muffled as you lean forward and kiss him, but you yelp when you feel sharp teeth suddenly bite your bottom lip. Something angry twittering in you possesses you to reach into his hair and fist it, yanking his head up to meet your irritated gaze. When he moans again, loud and shameless and grinds against your core, you’re seized by the same fierce need.

“You’re sick,” you say as your tongue darts out to taste a hint of blood.

For some reason, those words still him as his eyebrows furrow slightly. “I know.”

Stars, you hate how he stares you down, daring you to do something about it. You hate how it feels like it was your fault, that crack in his shield as you see your own shocked eyes reflected in his ocean blues. They flicker between yours, and that something whispers in you again: for whatever reason, he wants to be punished.

Maybe that’s how he gets his sick kicks. Yeah. That’s it.

(You shove aside any lingering doubts.)

You pull him to you this time, kissing him as you simultaneously begin a slow, rhythmic roll of your hips against his throbbing bulge. When Childe’s mouth parts in a strangled moan, you take the opportunity to dive your tongue into his and hum in approval as he rubs his hands along your thighs.

As you part, a thin trail of saliva stained red with blood connecting you two, you lean back and smirk at his whine from the loss of contact. Instead, you lean back and arch your back to apply more pressure to his bulge. “You’re such a challenge sometimes,” you murmur, scanning his features.

Childe moans, ragged and hoarse, as his hands find purchase on your hips. “Please,” he replies desperately.

“When was the last time someone put you in your place?” you say as your hands slowly trail down to his chest and meticulously begin undoing each button. Each time your nails scrape his skin, the contact is minuscule but enough to hitch his breath.

“N-not since the Tsaritsa,” he whispers, keening as you dip your fingers beneath his jacket to open it fully, baring his pale chest. “The people in Liyue are too… Let’s call it traditional in bed, hm? A bit too tender.”

You both snicker (unknowingly at the same man), but his laughter is cut off as you lean down to kiss along each scar littering his chest. There is a smattering of slashes and burns, enough to paint a picture of a life hard-won and deserving of his name.

When you ghost your lips back up, you pause at a pale, crescent-shaped… Is that a bite mark? You raise your hand slow to that juncture between his neck and shoulder, and you feel blue eyes watching you intently. As you trace it, you murmur, “What’s this? Did a lover leave this? Doesn’t seem very becoming of a Liyue native.”

Childe releases a puff of air instead of a laugh and rolls his head back. “Let’s just say it’s a trophy for the one time I managed to get a stupidly sentimental man to realize I’m not fragile on my last night here. He even apologized for it.”

Huh. You choose not to comment on the strange memory, but instead, opt to kiss the scar lightly. Childe openly moans, breathes becoming shallower as you move down the expanse of his creamy abdomen from there.

Gloved hands fly to your head and grab. His shallow thrusts against your chest halt when you lift away from him, glowering at him to stop. Childe’s eyes narrow, but when he tries again, you lie your palm flat against his bulge and push down.

Childe cries out at the border between pain and pleasure, and good, that fucker needs to learn when to stop.

Oh, gods, when did you get a mean streak? Except, when you lay your eyes on the Fatui again, memories of each time he’s pushed your buttons surface, directly compromising your promise to Aether to be kind to the locals in Teyvat to expedite finding Lumine.

Yeah, Aether isn’t here right now. You can make a special exception.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you grunt and you lean up again, choking back laughter when you see how his eyes widen at your abandonment. Ha. “Maybe I’ll go slower and, how is it called, ‘make love to you like the people in Liyue? Maybe I’ll stop pursuing you like this, where none else dared challenge the almighty Harbinger, huh?”

Admittedly, the lust in you skyrockets when you see how he tries putting on an intimidating façade again, yet the flush across his face and chest absolutely ruins it. Oh man, you can keep doing this all day.

Only… When the devil smirks at you, your heart begins hammering.

“Oh? Maybe you should,” he pants, and you pointedly look at his erection now forming a slight damp spot on his pants. “Tch, but don’t tell me you’re not curious. You’re too fucking nice all the time, you’d hate that slowness as much as I would.”

Irritation seers through you again as you suddenly – and perhaps unnecessarily roughly – grab his pants, purposefully dragging your nails along his skin as you begin to pull it down. “What makes you think I’d hate it?” you huff.

Childe aids in your struggle, shimmying his pants down and off as he kicks off his boots while you clamber on top of him again.

“Come on,” he sneers, snaking his right hand around your neck to pull you closer while his left makes begins to slide down your belly. When he leans closer, he pauses short of kissing you and stays like that. “Don’t you want a taste?”

“You – “

Fuck, you didn’t realize how he distracted you until one finger brushes your clit and slides along your folds. Fuck, fuck, you hate how he drinks in your quiet and strangled moans as it begins to slowly dip into you. When you feel something smooth and cold instead, it hits you that he never took off his gloves.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he coos and rolls his hips upwards to grind against your ass. You grit your teeth, though Childe takes this moment to kiss you again and suck on your bottom lip, massaging you all the while. It’s… It’s not enough, damn him.

"Give me a safeword," you rasp as you break apart. "Right now. So I know this isn't a trick up your sleeve."

He grunts and leans forward again to press his lips against your nose, though he pauses in his ministrations. "This isn't -"

"Childe."

"... Calla lily."

You nod and sigh, tilting your head to the side.

The hand formerly around your neck slides down to pull down your clothes, allowing more access as it pools around your thighs.

You pull away entirely – ah, there goes his fingers – and stand, beginning to strip. As he watches you, you see how his jaw clenches, impatient and yet thoroughly enjoying the impromptu strip dance.

When you’re bare, you begin to walk over and have to bite back a whimper at how Childe’s tongue darts along his lips as you approach. Hmm…

You pad over to his head and grab a fistful of his hair again as you kneel by his head, concentrating on how his face contorts with pleasure again.

“What makes you think you’re so special, huh?” you gruff at him as he grins up at you in that wicked, wicked way.

“Because I’m all the sins you never had the courage to commit,” he responds daringly.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Oh, stars forgive you if you (not so) accidentally strangle this man. You swing one leg over his head and pull it up as you lower yourself. At least he needs no further instruction as he immediately rests his hands on your thighs and tilts his head to lap at the wetness dribbling down.

Let it never be said that Childe didn’t know how to use his mouth, because fuck, the eagerness he begins devouring you out with is nothing short of a man approaching his last meal. You become hyper-aware of your wanton moans, how you grind your core further along his lips while his aching cock is behind you, devoid of all attention.

When his tongue dives deeper between your folds, truly fucking you with it, you slam a hand behind his head to prevent your fall. Fuck, you can’t fucking think –

Your thighs are trembling as the pleasure shoots through you, building with each rock of your hips. It’s slow and steady, but you feel yourself surfing the rising pleasure when you mentally short-circuit. At some point, he crept one hand under you and – without warning, the asshole – plunged two fingers deep as he turns his attention to your clit.

It’s pathetic how you mewl, it really is, and like a bloodhound, Childe senses your weakness. He doubles his efforts while humming against your clit, vibrating it with the motion, and fuck, you feel it coming, it’s, it’s –

You open your mouth in a silent scream as it shoots up, pulling you taut and your muscles stiffen. It’s like you’re a bow strung along and Childe is the man just using you like this.

Stars, he needs to stop, he needs to – stop it, it’s too much –

“Stop, Childe, fu-ah – “ When you frantically roll off of him, falling on your side, he merely turns and grins. It’s absolutely sinful how he slowly licks each finger that was knuckle-deep in you, never breaking contact.

You wish he’d say something because for once, he’s not actually talking. He just. He followed your initiative and was promptly shut up, drinking you in. You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt instead to reach over and grab his scarf, yanking him up.

He follows, nearly as eager as a pup, and crawls to you on all fours as you sit up. Childe blinks at you, the smile never wavering as his eyes wander to your chest rising and falling with soft pants. Something in you, some small and evil voice whispering on your shoulder tells you to ruin this man, this arrogant warrior still clad in his Harbinger jacket and gloves and mask –

“Your mask,” you gruff. Childe tilts his head (oh no, that was cute), but follows your command nonetheless.

When he hands you the item, you fidget slightly and fight back that creeping uncertainty. Fuck it, you’re the one punishing him, so why are you getting embarrassed?

In a desperate bid for confidence, you hum and refuse to look at him, pretending to inspect the mask as if just now seeing it. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, so you firmly pull on the scarf like it’s some leash. “You always get your way, don’t you?” you hum.

When silence meets you, you yank on the scarf again. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” comes the immediate reply. You smile softly and look at him, look at his wide eyes as you’re met face-to-face. Each of his arms has settled next to your sides as his legs hold himself over you.

You hazard a glance at his cock and smile at how it twitches in response, leaking driblets of pearlescent pre-cum and just throbbing red. Oh, he wants it so badly. “Beg for it,” you say, looking back into his eyes.

Childe narrows his own, gritting his teeth in a snarl. “Beg for it,” you repeat slowly, “or we stop here. Your choice.”

“Please,” he mumbles, and… Oh, oh is he shy? Pink begins to dust the tips of his ears as he dips his head.

“Please what?” you tease and he huffs.

“Please, let me… I want it, I want you.” Each word is punctuated and forced out like it took all of his willpower to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

Some quiet, dark part of you is slightly disappointed he didn’t.

Well, you’re merciful, and he did say please. You lean forward and tilt your own head, catching his lips in a kiss entirely too soft – and yet, Childe doesn’t complain, only sighing in relief as he moves his head with yours.

But this is still supposed to be a punishment, you remind yourself vehemently. That lustful side of you rears its head, screaming at you to stop whatever it is you’re planning because Childe is here, on his knees and begging to fuck you.

But this is still supposed to be a punishment. Damn it.

Childe seems to recognize the idea swirling in your eyes when he pulls back and he frowns. You smirk back and slide his mask into place, thoroughly relishing in how his breath hitches seeing his own face staring back at him.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

He jerks his head back like he’s been slapped. “Oh, you’re kidding me, right? You just made me beg, you charlatan.”

“Exactly,” you chirp back. You push him back while retaining your hold on his scarf and run your hand down his abs, pausing at the naval above his aching cock. He moans when your nails dig in there and he spreads his legs wide to allow you to move closer. When you finally, finally grasp his cock with a firm squeeze, a strangled groan is wrenched from his chest from somewhere high and deep like he wasn’t expecting the noise either.

“I’m still mad at you, so this is all you get. Nothing more than this, not even spit.”

Gods, how badly do you want to weep and take it back, but you have a point to prove, damn it.

Childe opens his mouth to protest, but you pull on the scarf to effectively cut off his air, watching how his eyes haze over with pleasure when you do an experimental pump. Is this… Is this how you looked when you fought for dominance with Zhongli?

Oh, you really can keep doing this.

Slowly, you shift forward more until you’re pressed close enough to lean next to his head as you gather the pre-cum leaking in torrents to twist around the head of his cock. “Does the Harbinger like this?”

Childe releases another strangled moan and nudges his head against yours, bucking his hips in demand for you to just go faster. You don’t, you’re mad at him, but the insistence is cute. That infamous earring of his dangles in front of you, tantalizingly close, so you grab it with your teeth and pull sharply as the pressure from your hand increases.

Childe cries out in a mixture of shock and pleasure, hands flying to your back to pull you closer to him as you release it to begin whispering filth into his ears.

With each movement, each tug and twist and sin tickling him, you watch as he slowly becomes unraveled and pulled from the seams. The contrast between you two, how you watch with startling clarity as Childe loses his sanity in chasing after that edge, serves only to thrill you. Your core starts to throb again, practically weeping with your own slick as you fight back the instinct to mount and ride him to hell here and now.

As his thighs tense and his breathing drawing quicker, you pause abruptly to stop him from cumming and – oh shit – he yanks your hair back as he growls in your ear, “Don’t you dare – “

Wish granted. You laugh openly and release his scarf to cup his jaw, leaning forward enough that he can catch the whites of your eyes through the slits in the mask. “Then don’t look away.”

And, blessedly, you resume your ministrations with a sudden increase in speed that has Childe panting so beautifully, so raggedly as he whines at the sight of his own mask staring him down. His hips rock into your hand needily, clinging to your back like his life depended on it.

“Ah, f-uck – “ Childe’s words are cut off as he flushes red and you feel warmth spill over your hand. You never pause as you continue milking his cock, jerking it well past the point of pleasure and deep into oversensitive pain. His blue eyes are squeezed shut as a string of Snezhnayan curses tumble from his lips, clinging to what shreds of euphoria are left before you slowly stop.

His chest is heaving, each exhale hoarse and dry as he buries his head against your neck.

Huh, what does a Harbinger taste like…?

As you idly bring your hand up to lap at the cum, you smirk behind your mask when you hear Childe’s breath hitch and he begins mumbling something indistinctly, watching you all the while.

When he’s this close, you can nearly count each freckle dotting his cheeks and nose, and… And you can almost draw constellations between them.

After a moment, he leans back to stare at you before pulling off the mask. When you both see each other again, a lazy smile tugs at his lips before he looking you up and down, then towards the scene around you.

“… Well, this is unsanitary.”

What – what the fuck? You bark out a loud laugh and Childe joins you, though his sounds huskier still as he recovers. “That was a little mean of you to keep going,” he says, pouting when you snort.

“You wanted it.”

“I wanted to fuck you,” he grumbles. You shrug and try to stand, though admittedly you’re no better than a colt with how your legs shake.

Eventually, you manage to waddle your way to the river and take slow steps into the freezing waters. Fish dart between your legs, barely brushing by with slick flutters, and you sigh as you force your muscles to relax.

Some time passes before you hear movement and splashes behind you, though you don’t turn to meet him. If Childe is upset with you, he can deal with that himself, you’re too busy trying to find some peace.

You just need a hard reset. Just once, you need to get one merciful moment alone.

Still, that wish remains ungranted as strong muscles wrap around your front and you jolt at the sudden contact, but more so when you feel Childe rest his head against the back of yours. Neither of you move, opting to instead sway lightly with the currents drifting by. Each wrist is wrapped in a leather brace with a Vision inlaid in the right while the Delusion is in his left.

When you glance down at the water, you suck in a breath upon realizing he’s been staring at you through the reflection the whole time. Soft aquatic plants dance at the corners of your feet, brushing ever so slightly with each tug.

It’s nice, but something about the stillness sparks uneasiness in you. But… It’s not the kind you felt staring down Childe’s lifeless eyes seconds before he struck, no, this is different. This feeling left you feeling both heavy and light, clear and foggy like you were alone with the dawn breaking and somehow that fact makes it all the sadder.

You… You want this to last, you realize. Stupid. You’ve gotten yourself stupidly attached already, two for zero with these men in your life.

He sighs as one hand reaches up, tracing idly over your chest again. “Do you ever feel like it’s some game,” he begins delicately like each breath is an affront to the world around you.

“What do you mean?”

“These gods, these… Not-humans, I guess. The one that took Aether’s sister, the ones that laughed at you for not being good enough in your travels, the adepti that thought Liyue too fragile… Do you ever think it’s a game to them? Like we’re just puppets on strings?”

He whispers these words, writing them like clandestine letters, ones that will surely get him executed should the gods ever see yet he writes them all the same.

“Like the fabled strings of fate?” you reply, and his lips twist in a wry laugh. “I don’t know if it’s fair for me to answer, since I’m not…”

Human.

Childe hums, understanding the tacit sentiment. “Doesn’t matter, you were never welcome among the divine anyway, right?”

“As if the humans would welcome us instead.”

“I would. I already have.”

Without skipping a beat, Childe continues hastily, once again obscuring that something in his voice. “Do you think they understand us? Actually care about their people?”

You shake your head, a barely-there motion, and should any soul look upon you two now, surely they would never see how you squeeze his hands. “I don’t think gods understand true strength.”

You don’t know why, but those two words, that single combination seems to still Childe completely as he listens, utterly rapt with another memory flickering across his expression. At least, that’s what you think, judging from the reflections.

“Gods may shape the world and play with the pieces, but mortals are the ones living in it. I don’t think they remember that humans are not – “

“Things.”

Another beat of silence passes before Childe breaks it again. “They think we don’t understand anything just because we haven’t had an eternity behind us, ha. I don’t blame them, I think I’d take the opportunity to be immortal too.”

You frown and turn in his arms, coming face-to-face with him. “Why?”

“So I can finally make right everything that’s wrong,” he mumbles, placing his hand on your chest again. When you look down, you see how water tickles and caresses your skin – almost lovingly if you were so bold, but you’re not – as it forms a vague riptide mark. You feel cool hydro energy seep into your skin before disappearing entirely, though you suppose more elemental energy could always trigger its appearance once more.

Childe sighs again, massaging the spot from the mark before roving hands move to your shoulders, rubbing along them. When he looks at you again, your heart stutters at the glittering image of wide-eyed wonder and determination staring back at you – the sight of it renders you mute. A cheeky grin pulls his lips. “And more time means more journeys, right? When my plans are complete, I can finally put this all to rest and go adventuring.”

(You vow then to never tell him that Teucer long spilled these secrets to your motley group.)

And then. And then he smiles, though it’s all teeth and wicked intentions, and then you feel your heart race with sudden fear as the sweet moment left as soon as it arrived.

“You know comrade,” he begins charmingly (oh no), “I did warn you about one thing.”

“Y-yeah?” Oh no, you didn’t mean for that to come out as quiet and breathy as it did. Childe chuckles as he slides one hand to cup the back of your neck.

“That I won’t stop.”

That’s all the warning you get before your world is turned askew, everything blurring together in motions of blue and rippling colors.

This is… He’s taking you somewhere, you realize belatedly, this is how he escaped the Golden House. When his face materializes before yours, peering out of the water as the element obeys its master’s commands, he holds one finger up to his lips in a signal to keep holding your breath.

So you do. You hold as long as you can, eyes darting as the world passes by and you’re struck by the kaleidoscope of light as it ripples along the outside of this shell.

When Childe leans forward, slotting his lips against yours, you swear then that he meant to steal your breath.

Hard rock slams into your back suddenly and you break the kiss, gasping for air and flopping your hands about you for purchase. Air, hallelujah, there’s air –

You grumble at him, sulking at the unexpected journey as his drenched hair trickled droplets onto you. Childe rears his head back, roaring with laughter at your cross attitude, but you can’t hear it. As a matter of fact, you can’t hear anything really.

Wait, did he just take you behind the waterfall?

Amusement dances across his face as he watches you drink in the sights around, of how you two are in a small enclave behind the waterfall roaring overhead. It’s not much, probably two lengths of Childe’s body long and wide with temperatures freezing you to the bone.

So, why did he bring you back here –

You keen when he suddenly dips his head to kiss along your sternum, one thigh nudging your legs apart. His hot breath fans across your skin, licking a long stripe up your neck to your ears as he brings one hand up to squeeze one breast.

“Sweet girl is always so far away,” he whispers huskily. “Will you finally let me hold you?”

“Childe,” you huff, your soft breath cutting off into a moan as he pinches one nipple. His teeth graze your jaw, kissing along it and moving steadily towards your mouth. “All this time, you never needed to ask. You already had me.”

He groans, capturing your lips again with the barely constrained ferocity of a starved man as the hand fondling your chest moves down. Stars, you’re already so slick with anticipation; Childe moans appreciatively as one finger slides easily in, then two, then three.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot, sweet little thing.”

If you were thinking straight, you’d realize that Childe is whispering something about fair trade and equal punishment, is sinking his fingers knuckle-deep into you and ruthlessly finding that sweet spot in you with a single goal in mind. You encourage him further, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue as he explores your mouth with near-invasive energy.

If you were thinking straight, you’d realize how his cock is already at attention and ready to spear you, how it waits patiently for you to cum first.

Oh, but you’re not thinking straight. You wail as his fingers press harder, palm now rubbing your clit while he nips along your jugular and scatters your thoughts. Childe shifts so he no longer needs his other hand to hold himself over you, and instead places it over your throat as he pulls back to stare into your eyes.

The devil grins at you. “Don’t look away now.”

“Ah – oh, Childe – “ His hands squeeze, tentative at first, then with more conviction – and a terrifyingly practiced technique – around your neck, cutting off just enough air to leave the images blurring around you. Fuck, fuck, you’re clinging to consciousness, holding onto that pleasurable spike for dear life and –

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he pants, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours and you wail. It comes out softer and quiet, like a lamb being laid bare before a wolf, and you’re shivering with the fuzzy pleasure blanketing your body. Calloused fingers work you over as he grins, murmuring praises as you come undone from his unrelenting pace.

Your orgasm is nothing fierce like when he ate you out, but as air steadily becomes harder, the pleasure refuses to fizzle out like the fireworks you felt earlier. No, it only builds and builds and builds like it refuses to let you go, dragging you through this sex-addled haze whether you like it or not.

“Stay with me now,” Childe grunts, dark hunger swirling in his eyes. “Come on, don’t black out on me now, that’s too easy. Do I have to be mean?”

What the fuck is he talking about –

You cry out in sheer panic and blinding euphoria as you feel light sparks dance along your clit. He’s using his fucking electro element, all fine control and just playing you like a fiddle while you writhe underneath him. You can’t take it anymore, this is too much to all once and impossible to describe, you can’t –

Childe blessedly releases his grip and you gasp in lungfuls of air for the second time in a short window; though his fingers slow, they don’t stop. He coos at your writhing underneath him, moaning with you as you ride out a second orgasm from his electro currents.

You’re biting your lip to stop from whining even more, but that must’ve irked Childe because he moves down to kiss you again, pulling your bottom lip away with his teeth. As the stimulation slowly pushes into pain, you hiss and swing your left leg up to kick him away.

Of course the fucker caught your foot and exploited the momentum to wrap it around his right shoulder, of course. “Pl-ease,” you cry out as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the pleasure quickly becoming too much again. “Please!”

“Mm, you’ll have to beg for it,” he replies, too casually for a man whose fingers are working up a storm to bring you to a quick and merciless orgasm again. Your hands fly down to his wrist in a pathetic attempt to slow him, but he curls his lips in a challenge and speeds up, shifting closer to you to brush his cock along your cheeks.

Fuck, fuck – You cum again, though somewhere in you tells you that you never actually stopped. A last-ditch idea desperately hits you. “F-Fuck me!” you cry out, voice pitching a tune that’s dangerously needy. “Please!”

Childe laughs again, all cruelty and thrilled at your begging, but you can’t find it in you to give a damn, you just need him to stop fucking you with his fingers. You need a break.

But the Harbinger is a merciless god.

He hums as his fingers slowly, slowly withdraw and he makes a show of sucking each one clean before he takes his cock to line up with your entrance. As he does this, he tilts his head and looks at you again, pretending like he doesn’t see you plead for – for what, exactly? For more? For less?

And in a single thrust, he enters entirely into you. Two voices bounce off the walls, pitches varying but both as broken, and Childe immediately begins a harsh pace.

“Please,” you whine and he tilts his head again, grinning through each harsh thrust. He’s rubbing one hand along the thigh draped over his shoulder while the other holds your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please? You’re such a greedy thing, look at that, sucking up my cock like that.” Each word is punctuated with another harsh thrust, each word is met with your loud cries – and when he angles his hips enough that you can see the outline of it pushing against your naval with you on your back, you cum again.

The Fatui starts speaking in Sneznayhan again as you clamp down around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all you’re worth, but gods you can hardly care right now. Your back is surely going to be scraped raw with how you’re being dragged across the floor, but you fucking love it, love how pain and pleasure mix in some addicting cocktail you’re absolutely drunk on.

You make a long, anguished whine as Childe begins kissing along your leg and peppers your skin with nips to pierce that pleasurable fog. His words sound slurred, you’re willing to bet your life that he’s trying to call your name, but you’re not sure if it’s him or your perception that’s screwed up on this side of the river.

And then he’s laughing. The bastard’s laughing at your blissful misery.

Oh. Oh no no, no you’re not about to be humbled by some Harbinger –

“T-tartaglia!” you keen suddenly when a particularly fierce thrust hits you.

You both freeze.

Oh no. Oh shit. Cold panic rushes through you at that, at how you just admitted defeat by calling him out – and when he purrs your real name, low and husky and thoroughly vindicated, he knows it too.

“Pretty thing wants to wear my mask, but you forgot who’s fucking you like you wanted,” he snarls.

After he hoists your other leg over his shoulders, he presses his body into yours and folds you in half, the new angle devastating for your pleasure as he somehow reaches deeper. His hips start again, mercilessly hitting that spot deep in as his hands cage you in by your head. Childe leans in and nudges your head aside, brushing his nose along your cheeks. "What's the safeword?"

"C-calla lily," you murmur and he nods, turning to stare you down again.

When you try to look away, close your eyes, do something, one hand brutally squeezes your jaw to open your eyes again.

And it works. You gasp as he forces you to attention, forces you to address him as those dangerously blue eyes threaten to swallow you whole in the treacherous deep ocean. “Baby, look – hah, shit – look at me. Y-you want Tartaglia, huh? Isn’t that right?”

Your throat is betraying your mind, whining and begging and blabbering something in response as the grinding pleasure continues to drown you.

It hurts so fucking good as euphoria tears you apart, rips your insides as you start openly sobbing from the pleasure he’s dragging out, and the fucker has the audacity to shoot forward and press an open kiss to your tear-streaked cheeks. Chi- Tartaglia lets you claw at his back – hell, he encourages it with how he groans – and he torturously continues his pace.

You’re not sure if you have the energy to continue, so you smack at his back weakly as you mumble against his lips. Your cunt is squeezing and spasming around him in a vice grip, but he continues fucking you through it. “P-please, please c-cum, please, I don’t know if I can keep going,” you beg desperately.

“N-no,” he grunts and your heart sinks. “Fuck, pretty birdie is letting me finallyy – hah – fuck her, I warned you, I won’t st-hhop.”

“It’s too much,” you hiccup through the overstimulation and scream – your throat hurts with the force of it – as you feel electricity twist your muscles, clenching around his cock as white-hot plasma seems to seer you from the inside out. He moans in response, a low and gruff noise.

“Then suffer.”

And he keeps going.

---

You never notice how he traces along a barely-there geo sigil with the smallest, briefest Cor Lapis glow beneath your navel. You never notice how it throbs in time with his thrusts, with each exertion of his elemental visions as if protective over your body in a lingering memory of whatever divine beast spurred its awakening.

You never notice how he grins.

---

The Harbinger is a cruel and merciless god.

---

He ruins you, thoroughly devastates you with a meticulous precision befitting the Vanguard of the Harbingers. You’ve been manhandled and manipulated into a myriad of positions until pebbles and scrapes litter both of your bodies. True to his word, you suffer through each orgasm he tears from you.

And fuck, do you love it.

Your back is to the wall as your hands are interlocked with his own by your head, hips rapidly thrusting you up and down against it as you wrap your legs around him for purchase while he nips your neck like a rabid dog.

Stars, you can’t concentrate, your eyes keep losing focus – and each time Tartaglia notices, he bites or thrusts or squeezes with that iron grip, electricity lacing each action jolting you to the present. He refuses to let you sink, refuses to let you black out as you’re dragged through hell and back by the devil himself.

“Please,” you weep as he rests his forehead against yours, dutifully watching how your chest bounces with the movement and how his cock is thoroughly drenched with your juices. The ease with which he slides in and out of you is downright criminal.

“T-tartaglia, please,” you whimper and his blues meet yours again. “Tartaglia… I want…”

A single eyebrow arches as he presses his body impossibly closers, now chest-to-chest as he cages you in and looms over you. “I want you,” you gasp between thrusts, “all of you, please. I – ah – I trust you, please.”

Tartaglia freezes for a split-second before groaning, raw and thunderous and wild as the storms that herald his coming, and when he kisses you, you feel wetness dribble down both of your cheeks.

In your haze, you weren’t aware you were crying again from it all, but a lot of things snuck past your attention.

You don’t know what happens after that, but you know it’s hot and wet as his body flexes over yours. Somewhere in your consciousness, you hear a voice cry out Tartaglia’s name, utterly shredded to ribbons from how it was abused.

Was that your voice?

His cock is throbbing in you as you feel him empty load after load of cum, more words in a foreign language wrapping you in warmth his tone lightens, his eyes grow soft and his lips curl up. It’s all you can do to squeeze your wet cunt around him, tightening around him to milk more out of him until Tartaglia is gasping desperately in time with the stutter of his hips.

Eventually, he slumps over you, draping his muscled body over yours with sheer exhaustion and sweat glistening in a thin sheen over his skin.

He whimpers your name, almost going unheard and the noise is halting as if he didn’t expect to say it either. Frankly, you’re too tired to unpack all the layers woven into that right now. So you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hands as you start to feebly sing softly in your native tongue.

Childe freezes instantly as he sucks in a sharp breath. “What is that?”

“Hm? My people’s language?” you respond and he nods dumbly. “Sorry, probably sounds bad.”

“No,” he mumbles, shaking his head enough that his auburn locks bounce lightly. “Just familiar.”

Huh? Whatever. He’s probably too blissed out to make sense right now.

You both stay like that for a time in a slow-going bid to steady your breathing. You… You never honestly expected this to happen when he invited himself along your commission. Not that you’re complaining, of course, it’s just… It’s not what you expected.

Some lust-addled part of your brain, utterly fucked out and blissful, is already planning another ‘excursion’ into these deep woods.

And then you start to giggle at the gooey mess pooling between both of you. Childe huffs against you and you feel his smile against your cheek. “What’re you laughing at, pretty bird?” he slurs out.

“Oh, just. This is just unsanitary.”

Childe just grunts, too tired to join your laughter, but that’s okay. Your bubbling joy is enough for the two of you in this little enclave behind the waterfall.

---

Hours have passed, and somehow – through sheer and utter spite – you both manage to drag yourselves back to Liyue Harbor despite the protesting aches from your muscles. Nerve endings are set alight with each step, but judging from how Childe winces, he feels it too. Night has long fallen and you remind yourself to apologize to Aether and Paimon, since you said you’d be back by dinner at the latest.

Do you regret it though? Nope.

Eventually, you stumble (literally in your case, tripping over a rock in your lethargy) across Zhongli scrutinizing various wares on display with a careful eye.

Zhongli’s smile is brilliant and warm as he spies you two, immediately weaving his way through the crowd to make his way over. In a way, the movement is serpentine as he manipulates each person away. It’s fitting, really.

“I expected you two to be back much earlier,” Zhongli rumbles, though there’s no disappointment. He looks pleased to simply see you both safe and sound.

“Ah, it was a little far,” Childe chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. “Y’know how it is.”

“Where are the others?” you interject, too tired to maintain any sane conversation. Or sanity in general. You need a bed and you need it now.

The former Archon tilts his head as he peruses through his memories. “I believe they moved to Wangshu Inn. They said that since you both took too long, we are to meet again at midday tomorrow near Jueyun Karst.”

You nod weakly and tune out their conversation, trying to muster what little energy you have left to begin the trek to get outside the city.

“I saw the most interesting thing,” you hear Childe say conversationally. The tone feels off, though. “Did you know geo sigils can stay on skin? I got a most intimate view of it! Even left a little hydro mark of my own,” Childe’s teasing voice continues with something else lacing the undercurrents of it.

Your heart sinks and you slowly turn around, thankful that in your brief glance at their faces, Zhongli was all-too distracted with Childe’s words to see you. However, when one eyebrow raises, you immediately duck your head.

Fuck. What the fuck. You’ll sprint if you have to, but for now, walking away is okay too.

“Oh?” You hear a curiously deep rumble from behind you as you slowly make your way out, but you can’t place the tone. Zhongli is as stoic as ever and you can’t get a read on him from his voice alone, oh no. “Is that so.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, a fact, an observation, and it’s delivered so flatly you want to cry from sheer mortification and horror as your mind shifts into maximum overdrive with panic at all the worst possibilities.

What’s he thinking? What does either of them think of you now? Did you cross some unspoken line?

Well then! Now’s as good a time as any to flee.

“See you at Jueyun Karst!” you throw over your shoulder as you wave, but the words are broken since you’re shaking like a leaf in a fierce wind.

As you make your exit, you feel two pairs of eyes burning into your back as neither man says anything.

Haha! Terrific! That’ll surely help you sleep tonight!

notes:

i love how the 1.5 leaked cutscene says there’s a liyue saying that goes something like “waiting for rain to fall on earth once again” like hello?? metaphors??

#childe #Childe fanfic #genshin childe #genshin fanfic #childe x reader

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ejosdust · 5 years ago

Text

ATEEZ is a big mafia orginization which was secretly founded and built by Kim Hongjoong 4 years ago. Hongjoong has personally selected some of the finest criminal individual for ATEEZ and things are going really well inside.

"Boss, i just finished the target. Clean and clear sir!"

The boy standing tall and straight, his brown hair got messy as he pulled out his mask. He looks so young and handsome, wearing a full black outfit. And on his back, he carried his precious sniper rifle, the one he just used to take someone's life.

"Well done Yunho! You have my compliment."

Hongjoong sat on his big arm chair, hand running down to his little dark blue braid as he leans back in pleased. Hongjoong was wearing a suit, dark blue to match his hair, the one with thin white stripes, and he has some touches of silver jewelry all over his neck and fingers. Next to him, the girl who flipping pages of documents, is his girlfriend Juniel. She is now wearing a tight short leather dress, crossing her legs, her hair was tied up and she is focusing intirely to the paper works in front of her.

"Ms.Juniel" - Yunho greeted politely but she just nod her head and draw a smile on her mouth as an answer, eyes still sticked into the documents on the table.

"You can go now." Hongjoong lower his voice as he stand up and start fixing his suit "Be prepare for the next mission, understood ?" his footsteps coming closer towards Yunho "My bad if my girl make you upset or something, she has always been like that when she concentrate, you know right ?" Hongjoong let out a chuckle as he found out he just pushed it out a little too much.

"It's a joke Yunho, you still need to learn to take jokes in a better way boy" Hongjoong pat lightly on Yunho back, a sigh of relief came from Yunho mouth. I was just thinking too much - he said that to himself and walk out the door.

"Tomorow i need you to go grab some weapons for me, babygirl." Hongjoong sat down next to Juniel, casually drop his hand on her shoulder and slowly move his finger-tips around in circular motions. "I have an important meeting with our new customer, so i can't personally go and grab those weapons-" Juniel stopped writting for a while and then lean her body into Hongjoong's chest, she smiled as she corrupted his words "I will do it for you baby, don't worry about me."

"To make sure you are unharmed, i had called San - a brother of mine, not techinically blood related, but he can be trusted to protect my baby." Hongjoong say softly and take out the hairband as his fingers intertwined to Juniel's hair. She then relax her body and lie down on his thighs, not forgeting to pull down her skirt. "I guess this is too short on you baby. Why do you keep wearing these type of clothes ? It's uncomfortable and-" She let down a small kiss on his lips to stop him from talking nonsense "Because i like to and i look good in these. That's why." She giggle as she stand up "Don't say that you don't like seeing me in these skin-tight dresses"

"I do. But i don't like you looking this exposed to people out there, babygirl" He groans as let out a sigh of unpleased. "Then protect me harder from all the hungry wolves out there baby." Juniel smirks as she run out the door of Hongjoong's office. She seems pleased with his powerless reaction.

Hongjoong is the boss, he has the mighty power to simply kill people as he pleased or when he feel like it, he won't even blink once. ATEEZ growing big is his long last desire, he will do anything to protect and build it up. His words are rules, you must obey, or else. But those rules don't quite apply to Juniel, as rules for her are meant to be broken. She had came through thick and thin with him, being his greatest supporter in his lowest point of life. Because of that, she can do whatever she wants without minding about his rules.

Hongjoong loves her a little too much, which might become his weakness someday.

---

"Enough right?" Juniel say, looking at a man who is counting a suit case of money across the room. Then she take one knee down to check the weapons she has just received.

"All good Mrs." The man laugh loudly as he continues "I hope we can meet and do bussiness with each other again in the future."

"Sure! We will meet again someday Mr.Park Seonghwa." Juniel smile and bow as he jump into his black van and drive out of the place.

Juniel then slowly walk down the hall toward the parking-lot with a huge bag of weapon on her hand, the sound of her heels echoing all around. "So he said the license plate of the car is 1024 and it's black with a--oh found it". The car's door suddenly open, walks out a handsome man in a black suit with embroided red line all over the neck part.

"Hello, im San, Choi San. You must be Juniel, Hongjoong asked me to catch you up here and drive you home." He smile and let his hand out for a handshake. "Yes, nice to meet you San." She smile back and give him a greeting handshake.

"Ah-you won't mind having another girl sitting with you right ?" San ask in concern. "If you make sure she won't cause any fuss in our bussiness then it'll be fine." Juniel say as she slowly get into the backseat of the car.

"Oh-Rachel? What are you doing here?" Surprised at the presence of her friend inside his car, she can't help but open her mouth. Rachel is wearing a neutral grey tone two-straps dress, which is long enough to cover her ankle, it has some sparkly strap tying around to define and show her beautiful waist line. Her hair is bundled up nicely, on her lap settling a bouquet of variety flowers. "Jun-? It's surprised to catch you here. San and I just went out for a date in that fine ass restaurant we used to go together lmao" Rachel reply and then burst out laughing of the coincidence.

"So is he a financier like you ?" Juniel ask in wonder "Yeah, this date is all set up by my mom and his mom." Rachel let out a sigh of disapointment. "But he is nice, and polite, so i guess he ain't that bad." she quietly whispered and then paused a little "But hey, you knew San ?"

"Nah, not really, he is a friend of Hongjoong, a close one as i know" Juniel reply, her hand crossed in front of her chest, she raised her eyebrow up a bit. "Oh that's so! He might be a badass, who know someone like Hongjoong and also be his close friend." Rachel compliment with a little chuckle, she made sure San hear it loud and clear in the front-row seat. His little secret is now exposed. Things will get fun between us - a thought slip out in Rachel's head.

"Baby im back with the weapons." Juniel kick the door in and made it slam on the wall real hard, she didn't seem to mind it even though Hongjoong startled because of the loud noise. "Shit-you scared me baby!" he said as he turned his head back and quickly glance at the bag on her hand. "I mean i can say Seonghwa is doing good right now, if you wanna know about your long old partner" she walk toward Hongjoong and then collapsed right next to him, head fall back on the couch as she un-tied her hair "these new heels are killing me tbh" Juniel munmur, try to kick the other heels off her red and swollen feet, the movements leaving her thighs exposed further up more than it should.

Hongjoong's hands suddenly fall on her thighs, she startled because of the cold touch out of nowhere. "Too short-" he said slowly as he raise his brow "Ah-about the weapons-" she quickly tried to pull her skirt down and avoid the non-stop conversation about she's wearing something too short to bear for his liking. His grips on her thighs getting tighter as she pull it down, interrupted her speaking, it might leave a mark there as she feel tingle on her skin. Hongjoong then grab her chin and hold it to place, keep her eyes lock to his, his glare are so intense yet lustful at the same time. He pull her close and their lips begin to mash against each other, his tongue swirl and explore her mouth, he make ways to dominance and rule her mouth as the tension inside her rise up like a tide.

Both of their breathe are turning shallow and shaky, some moans being let out inside their throat, they all try to catch some air as the kiss grow more in desire. She then broke out from the restrain of his mouth, slowly slide her tongue down his neck, he tilted his neck and smirk "You are always freaky like this babygirl" he grab a lock of her hair to secure his position and then lean back to make it easy for her to access his neck. "You like it ?" she don't really need an answer right now, say as she suck the sensitive skin on his neck, he squirm a little and a groan escape his mouth in pleasure. "I love leaving marks on you, you look so sexy sir." She smirked and grinned her teeth as she continue to create marks after marks.

His grip tighten around her scalp, the other hand squeeze her waist close to his as he lean down and whisper "Babygirl, i need you to be on top of me." The hot air brushing around her ear make her tremble and her face burning up. He can't wait any longer for his lover to move, he grab her ass in no time and then pin her on top of him. "This is your throne babygirl. My dick is your throne." Hongjoong impatiently push her hair to one side, leaving her beautiful soft neck and sexy collar bones exposed to his thirsty eyes. He roughly bit into her neck, suck it harshly like a hungry creature devouring its prey. She moans into his ear, back arched with the sensation run down her veins, hands grip tightly on to his short messy hair. Her body heating up, sweats begin to form on their face.

Those moans quickly turn into whimpers, that back arched turn into humping against his harden sex. Their hips rock to each other's rhythm, his lips still glued onto her neck as he 'create' his path around that slender neck and collarbone, dark purple and blue mark risen up one by one.

"Oh-" the door isn't locked, someone just knocked and walked it "Did i just interrupt something ?" Yunho voice suddenly sound so husky and awkward, not like his usual voice. All their action got caught up in Yunho's words "Why did you come here ?" Hongjoong asked him calmly as if there was no one in a tiny dress who spreading her legs on his lap and grinding right now. "Ah-i just want to confirm something about our next mission, boss." Yunho gaze down on the floor, trying to not make eye-contact with his boss - the one look like he just went out of a war (sex war).

"I'll call you to talk about it later. You can go now." Hongjong move his hand in a gesture that say 'go out', only waiting for that, Yunho bow and leave the place.

"Fuck you Hongjoong-you embarrassed me!" Juniel punch him in the chest then roll herself down from his lap. He reacted an awful 'ouch' like it's a funny thing to caught herself un-guarded like that. "That was fun right baby?" he grab her ass and smash it as she leaning down and putting her heels back on. "Ouch-stop that. imma fucking kill you Kim Hongjoong don't make me." she growl in pain and anger. He seems to enjoy the scene of his angry and embarrassed girlfriend, he let out a smile and giggle in his throat as he watch Juniel walk out the door. "Wait me at home babygirl" he shouted towards Juniel, don't even know if she could listen or not, but who cares anyway, he will meet her eventually.

Juniel was taking a shower while she heard the door being unlocked, Hongjoong has just arrived home. Drying her hair walking down the stairs, she found Hongjoong talking to Yunho and Yeosang - another one in the crew just like Yunho, but he specialize in investigating places and people. Juniel smile at them as a greeting.

"Joong, i gotta go out for some of my bussiness. I'll be home soon." she announced him, Hongjoong just nod his head in reponse and go back to the discusion about the upcoming mission. Realizing that, she quickly go upstairs, change her clothes as she dial Kay's number - a person who got kick out of the organiztion because of his betrayal action. Which is unlikely for a girlfriend of the boss to do something such as getting in touch with a betrayer.

"Hey, can we meet right now ? I got the weapon ready."

"Sure, meet me at Des. in 15 mins."

Juniel had never talked about her past relationships with Hongjoong, even though he almost begging her to share her past stories. She just found that wasn't nescessary to bother him with all of her dark past and toxic relationships. He got works to do, things to deal with, there isn't only 'her' in his life. So, there she go, trail down the same old path, keeping touch with her ex - not really ex, Kay's just a hookup buddy before she knew Hongjoong. But since Kay was sly, he got some tapes of her having intimate sex with him, recording it without her consent, which is a shame for her and even the organization if that was leaked.

"Jun, long time no see!" Kay stood up from his seat, open arms like he wanted a hug. "Hugging is not a part of our bussiness." Juniel denied as she saw his gesture and sat down on the barstool next to him, odering a Margarita like she always do. Then realizing somebody sitting next to him, she raised an eyebrow of concern toward that person. "Yes he is my partner, his name is T.U." Kay quickly response.

"Can we talk somewhere else, i don't think i can trust your new partner." She stood up as she whisper in Kay's ear, holding her drink. "Wait for me here T.U." T.U nod as Kay speak. Walking wearing a simple black body skirt and a two-straps velvet top might caught his devil eyes, as she feel his gaze starring on parts of her body. "So, let's get back to work, shall we?" she hum her throat to draw his attention, lean her back on the couch she just found in the corner "Sure," he paused and then sit down "Where did you store it now?" He talked as he sip his drink. "In the warehouse near my place. It is fully guarded from head to toes, you might not get through it without losing an eye or maybe your heart if things get worse." She smirked out "But i can help you, if you delete all those clips. Or i can't make sure anything." She tossed her drink on her hand, mixing the ingredients together before sip a bit.

His expression darken but he agreed on her suggestion. Maybe he just agreed for her trust? Afterall, she couldn't neglect all the possible outcomes, she has to repair for the worse. Suddenly, the phone rang, it's Hongjoong calling, Juniel turn her face sideways to take that phone call. "Baby, what are you calling me for?" She pouted as she answer "Do you want something to eat at night?" the voice on the phone reach her ears "Lemme think--fuck--" Out of nowhere, Kay jumped on her body, left her sentence interrupted. His hand crawling on her thigh, tugging her short skirt up, he is trying to get a way with her. A thought of making his way to rape Juniel came to his mind so suddenly, he found it quite interesting. So he did it for fun, to take control of her. Kay and Hongjoong has a feud since he kicked him out of the organization because he snug ATEEZ weapons out to sell for some other smaller groups.

"Where are you Jun ? Tell me now." the phone is still on hold, Hongjoong might just heard all the things. His voice sound cold like a rising storm, she can tell that he's so mad, that scenario bring shiver to her spine. Hearing that, Kay lean down to whisper to her ears "If you tell the truth, i will reveal to him that you're nothing but a betrayer like me." he chuckle under his breathe. "Ah-i am out with my friends," she forced a laughter out "I just s-slip because of the water someone spill on the floor so i swear a bit, there's nothing tho-" she mumble and then continue "I gotta go, it's loud here and my friends wanted me to join them at the dance. See ya at home baby!" She quickly hang up and drop the phone on the table, the position is still the same with Kay on top of her.

She stared at him in disgust then struggle herself out, he let her go since there's no one hearing it anymore. Then she stood up, checking her outfit while swearing in her throat. Kay standing there, smirk in pleased, crossing his arms in front of him, he thought it was fun while he can caused Juniel some type of troubles as her boyfriend did to him those past years.

Suddenly, Juniel felt a hard grab on her arm, she turned around to see San standing there gazing a cold harsh look into the situation. He stood there with Wooyoung - another member of ATEEZ. Look like they were here and see her with Kay from the start. Not even waiting for her to response, San raised an eyebrow then roughly pull her out of the place without saying anything. She struggle to break free but it's useless, he's too strong. Their pace slow down as they reach the parking lot. "Don't do anything to hurt Hongjoong, he loves you." Finished talking, he quickly jumped into his car and drive out of the place, without taking a glance at Juniel's expression.

Ever since that day, San and Wooyoung seem to notice and be aware of Juniel actions more and more. She still sometimes text Kay when she's around all of the guys, also around Hongjoong which irrated San a lot. Watching your best friend's girlfriend cheating and betraying him with somebody else but you can't do anything with it without causing some fuss. San stood there, trying to hold his will to literally throw some fire within those eyes, he clenches his fist hard in anger each time.

San's weird reaction in days has driven Hongjoong attention toward him, which one day ended up with himself holding the barrel of a loaded gun against San's temple. Hongjoong look up sharply, lean himself comfortably on the table behind him, hand holding the trigger and ready to pull anytime. "Don't.ever.touch.her." he grunt under his throat after a smirk. "Huh?-" San gives out a faint smile then take a quick glance of Hongjoong expressions. "Why do you suspect everyone but..i don't know? HER?" he raised a brow up, saying words in a lower tone than usual, hands constantly loosen his tie up. He doesn't even care one bit if Hongjoong is going to shoot him in the head or not, who even care if a stupid mafia boss getting his nose lead by some betrayer. Not him of course, Hongjoong better watch out, if he dies, game over, no one is going to tell him the truth. "Oh shit-" Yunho and Wooyoung who standing across the room, rapidly rush themself toward Hongjoong and San when they realized things are much more WORSE than it look.

"Maybe it's a misunderstood or something," Yunho quickly intterupted the conversation while trying to keep his boss from pulling the trigger "Yeah yeah, San's already has a fiánce." Wooyoung keep up the sentence, standing behind San in worried. "Rachel, her name is Rachel," "There would be no such thing as he liking Juniel, boss!" They all sound shaky in their voices, what if someone going to die ? They wouldn't know, so they gotta make sure no one goes over their limits today or blood will stain the place. Suddenly, they hear a dinstant crack cutting through the air, then the sound of shattered glass echoing loud and clear within the walls. Hongjoong just shot. A pop coming up like a short-distance fireworks, then after that is a sound of metal hit the ground, broken pieces of bullet spread unevenly everywhere. Everyone is shocked while looking at the direction of the noise, except Hongjoong. He slowly drop his gun on the table, then turn his face toward the door saying "I will always trust and forgive her, even though she did wrong things to me. Remember that." Finished the sentence, he walk out the door as if nothing has ever happened. Yunho and Wooyoung let out a breath in relief. "That was close.." Yunho hold his heart "I know right, shit was getting really intense." Wooyoung reply, hands patting Yunho's back. They both go out of the place shortly afterward, the only one left was San, standing there and looking into the void, thinking should he tell him the truth about her? After all those lives and deaths expreriences.

Not so long after, like only 2 hours after that, rumours begin to float around like garbage on the river. Juniel heard all the things about her man willing to kill his bestfriend because of her, about the fuss between her and Kay which caused San in trouble. He must have been killed if there weren't Yunho and Wooyoung there. She couldn't help but feel guilty and disgusted of her own self.

"Hey, it's Juniel, are you free for a drink? Like right now, i need someone to talk to." Juniel pick her phone up and dialing her friend Rachel, she can't bare staying home and thinking about her life decision anymore, she need to go out and talk to someone. Maybe Rachel could help. "Yeah, im quite free at the moment. I could meet you up Jun!" Rachel on the other line reply cheerfully. "Thanks god. I'll text you the address. See ya in like 30 mins?" "Okay, sure, see ya there" They hung up their phones, and preparing to go out.

"Rachel, have a seat then!" Juniel arrived at the place first, sitting herself comfortably at the counter of the bar. "Nice pub! A good place for drinking your sadness away lol." Compliment went out of Rachel mouth as she look at the designs and decorations inside, she didn't forget to make a joke and burst out laughing at the end of her sentence. "Your taste of things are still the same." Talking as Rachel glance at the glass of Margarita on Juniel hand. "Yeah, nothing has really change much since." Juniel sip one bit of her drink, squinting her eyes because of the strong taste of alcohol, then she continue "Strong one. That's why i love this place." "Other places use of alcohol suck, aren't they?" Rachel say as she sit down next to Juniel, hand pointing at a Mojito on the menu. "I'm not a big fan of strong drinks, so imma play it safe tho" She smile and continue "So, what is it all about? Why did you call me out of the blue?" Rachel cross her legs and draw all of her attention to Juniel.

So, not waiting any longer, Juniel started speaking about everything that happened right now, which were driving her insane. "You're afraid, but why did you do that anyway?" Rachel forcefully ask while looking straight at Juniel eyes. She avoid Rachel's look then lean down to sip her drink, clearing her throat "Kay has my secrets. I'm scared of him letting my secrets exposed to Hongjoong." The door suddenly creak a sound, which brings both of their attention toward it. "Oh fuck not again-" Juniel sighs in displeased looking at the people who walking in right now and then whisper "I completely forgot that this place has now under the control of Kay." Hearing it, Rachel clenches her teeth "Oh-speak of the devils, is he the one in white shirt?" "No, it's T.U. his new partner. He is the other guy in black."

They both trying to avoid Kay and T.U. by turning their back to the entrance, but things aren't going the way it should. The footsteps are coming closer and closer then a cold hand suddenly slip on Rachel waist, she startled and glance up for a man in white, trying to have his way with her. "Well look at that, a new girl in town." T.U. say provokingly, fingers on the other hand playing with her hair. Rachel annoyingly push his hand out of the way, she don't want anyone to touch her without her consent, especially a douchebag like him. T.U. hand quickly grab her chin up, hold it into place as he speak to her face "Be a good girl and pleased me for one night, or i will make sure you're not coming out of this place alive baby."

"Well," Juniel click her tongue "you could have sex with her or kill her, but after that, lemme tell ya, it's more dead than alive." She stand up watching the view, didn't forget to say a statement to his face. He probably won't want to see Rachel's fiánce got mad. No one want to. "Take it easy Jun, i wanna see T.U. have his way with your friend." Kay hold Juniel hand back, which is reaching out to push T.U. hand away from Rachel face, and give out a smirk. Juniel stare at Kay in disgusted while Rachel struggle her way out of T.U. hands. The pub getting heated up by the situation.

"Tsk, call Hongjoong!" Rachel keep her voice downn as she say, enough for for two people to hear, herself and Juniel. "I can't. If Hongjoong meet Kay, shits will turn into a disaster." Juniel whisper back. "How about i call...San?" Rachel nervously mention. "I won't really recommend that tho.." They exchange eye contact in fears. They fell in silence for a few minutes, those man eyes still lock on Juniel and Rachel. Then Juniel decided to go down and try to negotiate (thương lượng) to the mans about letting them go.

Suddenly, Rachel phone rang, it's San calling. She is too afraid to pick up her phone because she is being caught up inside a not-very-pleasant situation so she don't wanna bother San dealing with this, and maybe if she pick up, that guy named T.U. will start to annoy the shit out of him. Ting! a text message coming up from San, help pulling her out of her own thoughts, which said: "Pick up the phone! Don't let me find out where you are right now." While Rachel hesitated should she pick up or not, T.U. and his sly hands quickly steal her phone, he pick up right after. "Where are you?" - the cold icy voice coming out of the phone. "Oh, im having fun with these guys in the pub." T.U. answer and the other line hang up right away. T.U. burst out a laugh and give her phone back, while Rachel eyes widen with suprised, that thing happened so fast she can barely react.

About five minutes after, San and Hongjoong both show up at the door, bringing Yunho and Wooyoung to the place. They kicking the door in, three of them having guns on their hands, only San came in with nothing. Hongjoong started speaking in a serious tone, hands loading his gun. "So, tell me Jun, why did you want to steal the weapons for Kay?" He then receive no answer from her, Juniel has placed her eyes down the floor since she saw him walking in, trying to avoid eye-contact as much as possible. "Ah-because i have negotiated to sell those weapon to an oganization in America, but ATEEZ got it first. So i asked her to steal it for me." Kay reply in rejoice. "Sure. Yunho, take the weapons and give it to him." Hongjoong turn his head and give his command out for Yunho. "Yes sir."

"And Kay, after you have had your weapon, i don't wanna see you have things to do with Juniel ever again." Hongjoong grunt and look at Kay straight in the eyes. Those piercing gaze Hongjoong give out could possibly kill someone. "But, beside that, you don't know what had Juniel done with me." Kay seems unpleased with the situation being so easy for Hongjoong to handle, he thinks if he give all the weapons out things will end? Not so early my friend, challenges need to be made. He painted a faint smile on his lips as he walk closer to Hongjoong, provokingly speaking. A loud bang then appeared, too loud to hear clearly, then after that it sound as small as a whistle. It's a close range gunshot.

Looking down on the floor, Kay's lying there, no state of life remain. Blood spill all over the place, it stain the walls, brain and skull pieces flew all the way across the room. People yelling and screaming, finding their way out of the mess, someone has already passed out. And there standing Hongjoong, look lifeless as he just has been forced to finished the prey. Rachel has already stayed in San arms when that gun shot burst out, San is fast enough to guess the thing that will happened as he pulled Rachel in right on time.

Cold words coming out of Hongjoong mouth again "Even that, you don't have the right to insult Juniel." He then turn his back and walk out without looking back. Leaving Juniel standing there, not knowing what to do or how to feel, she just standing there like a statue. He's filled with anger and disapointment. Why did someone he loves so much betray him like that ? What should he do right now ? Will there be a way out of this mess ? He keep his head ruined with his thoughts spilling every way possible.

Watching Hongjoong leaving, San then make his way toward T.U., who is standing there in fear since his partner died in front of him. San grab his shirt up by both hands, angry voice growling under his throat. "What did you do to her ?" As he talk, his fists clench tighter and tighter like he wanted to lift T.U. up the ground and throw him dead in the corner. "Noth-ing. Just a litt-ttle teasing that is-s it sir." T.U. mumble as if he's scared of losing his own life like his partner here. If he didn't back down from it, he might get killed and oh god that doesn't sound good. A punch then come out of nowhere, landed on T.U. face, everyone in that pub can clearly hear the thump moving sound as San fist collide to the cheek bones area of T.U. After that, T.U. whole body collasped on the ground, blood leaking through the corner of his mouth, maybe San broke his nose too because that punch was hard as hell. "So, what do you say?" Saying as San drag T.U. face of the ground, making him look straight to his face. "I won't ever-r come around her again sir-r" San tilted his head and smile happily "Good then."

Then he drop T.U. back to place, eyes glancing at his bruised knuckles. "Why do i always have to do such things tsk." he said to himself as he stand up, put his hand slowly back into the pants pocket. "Sorry for letting you see this Rachel." then he bow down to apologized. "Ah-it's nothing San." Rachel reply, eyes looking other ways "Shall we go now ?" He reach his hand out, Rachel quickly understand his intention, she put her hand onto his then they walk out of the pub.

As they were walking, San forcefully ask "So, what did he do to you ? Did he touch you somewhere ?" "He touched me everywhere." Rachel make a pitty face as if its the truth. His holding hand suddenly loosen up, his breathe got faster and veins coming out of his neck as they going to pop out anytime "Wait for me as i come back and kill that guy." he growl under his breathe, words come after words filled with anger. "No-no, i was kidding-" Rachel say in nervous while trying to grab his arm and pull him back from causing more trouble "He just touched me at the waist and that's all." Her voice got smaller and smaller, after finished the sentence, her grab on his arm start to loosen up, she look at her feet, helplessly waiting for an angry San to grow out of him. "Fuck i caused trouble for myself." - she said that to herself as she felt San getting closer to her. "Come with me." San say as he pull her arm with force, push her into the backseat of the car.

"Uh-what-?!?" Rachel confusingly response as her back hit the leather seat of the car, her whole body lie weirdly in the backseat. Unluckily, 'waiting' is not in San dictionary, he rapidly narrowing the distance between him and her, his face now only an inch futher from her face, he then adjust his leg right in between her thighs as he lean closer. San hands are parallel outside of Rachel head, holding her into place while his leg sliding upward her skirt which made her skirt to roll up. "So, you said you've lied to me? For fun?" He smirk as he watch her thigh starting to rub against each other, her face lit up in rosy color, her hands trying to cover her 'nearly' exposed self. "I didn't mean to-San." Her voice somehow sound broken, which appear to San ear as a beautiful choir from the one he loves. "Really ?" He lower his head and whisper provokingly into her ear, which send shiver and goosebump through all of her body. She squint her eyes, try not to feel the thing which run in her veins right now.

He then put his hand sideways to her waist line, the coldness from his hand make her body jump a bit. "Now i know why he touch your waist first-" his slender fingers seize her waist then he continue "because it's exposed to his eyes." She bite her lower lips, trying not to let out any possible sound. His eyes then glance slowly from her head to her toes, she look so beautiful, like a dream come true, he want to save her picture right now in his mind and never let it fade away. Then he slowly kiss her lips, a kiss felt light like a feather, she kiss him back as a respone. Their tongue intertwined to each other, her hand crossed on his neck, pulling him closer. Take that as a yes, he begin to devour her lips like a starving animal which haven't eaten anything for days. His grip on her waist became tighter, their breathe rapidly become one, they let out moans and groan within their throat. They soon let each other out to catch some air, her face is getting hotter than ever, both of their heaving chest risen up and down desperately finding some oxygen in the narrow space.

His eyes then drop at her neck and collarbones which now covered with drops of sweat, make it shine so marviously in the faded and flickering lights. He then lean down, bite and leave some red marks on it. She give out a soft moan then quickly try to cover it with her hand. "Let me hear you." He remove her hand from her mouth and roughly pin it to the back as he undo his tie and use it to secure her hand on top, then tying the tie on the door handle. "If you don't like it, i could stop and untie you. But only when you say so." He started his movement down there, knee touching and circling around her already soaken part. She let out a moan, louder than before "Good girl." He praise her as he slowly move his hand down, fingertips touching her neck, her collarbone, her waist then her part. She couldn't stop shivering by his actions, his touches. He start putting his hand inside her panties and massage it in a circular motion gently as he watch her reaction. She squint her eyes together, biten her lips and turn her head sideways, soft moans still leak out of her mouth even though she try so hard to conceal them up. Putting a kiss on her forehead, he slide his index finger inside her, a suprised groan crawl out of her mouth, her body twitching and squirming while her pussy leaking more juice out. He begin to move slowly in and out, trying to make her experience more comfortable. He then put another finger in, stretching her out carefully as she try to struggle free from the restrain, sweats begin to form on her forehead, moans started to fall out uncontrollably. "You really sucking me in. Such a good slut for me." A passionate kiss is now formed on both of their lips, like the wave of desire come over and take both of them out of the land, they hungrily explore each other throat while their tongues dancing inside. His finger pace then become faster and deeper, he curl his fingers to find her g-spot and then he knew hit them perfectly when she try to struggle his fingers out of her with broken moans and shaken legs. "Fuck-you're so hot." he whisper on her ears, still keeping that pace of his fingers. "San-n-i can-t." She mumble as she squeeze his finger, her words barely formed into sentence. "I'm not done yet." His tongue travel around her exposed neck, licking and sucking its way around while his hand still doing its job so damn well. He then roll her top up, reveal her beautiful breast, his teeth biting her nipples, tongue swirling around in circle, sometime suck it hard to make her moan out. Her moans are music to his ears.

"S-an--im going to c-um." She tremble, legs twitching together, herself sucking and squeezing his finger like it wanna trap those inside her, eyes closing and mouth can't help but open wide as she reach her limits. He body temperature risen up like a volcano ready to explode, she squirming and let out broken moans once again. "Then cum for me like a slut you are." His words have pulled the trigger inside her, she let out all of her on his fingers. Heaving chest, shaken legs, blurry vision after she let it all out. "You taste good, as always." He say with a smirk as he suck his fingers in pleased. "Don't talk to me like that." She avoid eye-contact with him because he probally gonna tease her if he saw her blushing face. She then sign 'untie me' as she look at her hand and wiggle around. After untied her, he help her fixing herself and clothes up, also wiping all the filty things they just done a few minutes ago. "Now shall we head home princess?" he smile as he jump in front and take the wheel, not forget to check her up one last time. "Sure baby. I need to take a bath as soon as possible, this itchiness is now killing me thanks to you." She glance at him in anger. "Oops, my bad princess. I guess i could make it up to you by cleansing you up when we get home ? How about that ?" He chuckle as if he has just made a funny joke which embarrassed her. "Shut up and drive or i will kill you." She threaten him as the wheel rolling on the way.

Juniel finally arrived home after the whole incidence. Her mind is now drown in puzzled, in thoughts, in regrets and in apologizes. Walking in their shared bedroom looking as dead as ever, her eyes get caught up within Hongjoong gaze. His gaze was cold, cold as ice and in that moment, she can't remember how he normally were. How sparkly those eyes were only for her, how his smile curl up beautifully when she push the door and came in, how he shown his affection toward her,..it's now all blank.

Like a white torn paper. Blank and Ruined.

"Hongjoong, you can decide how you gonna take my life right now, im not gonna fight back or something like that." She stood at the door, looking at him straight but he's just narrow his eyes down, focusing on the laptop which was on his lap. "Get that thought aside." He look up, closing his laptop. "No one's going to die tonight. But in this mean time-" He toss his legs down, put his hand in his pocket and walk toward her. His eyes landed on her face and on her expression, he wonder what's going on in her beautiful yet mystery mind. Does she love him or is it just a game for two ? Will he win this or will her take that mighty tittle from him ? He won't know, nobody knows.

"-you have to make up your mind and answer this question: have you ever love me, or not." his figure stood tall in front of her, his voice turn strict and it sound as a command, the way his words always affect everybody but her. "This house, you can stay for as long as you need-" he paused and take a deep breathe, his eyes avoid her face, as if he's torn if these words get spoken out. "-But, if you decide that you're not in love with me anymore, you can simply go, and from that moment, we won't be involed within each other life anymore." he then let out a light pat on her head, his fingertips may want to linger longer on each strand of her soft dark hair but he couldn't, his hand fall down in a fist as he put his hand in the pocket and go out.

The words ruined her, as a dull knife get stab inside of her heart, the veins covered it were struggle to remain its beat as the knife dance itself around in circles to damage the already bruising wound. Blood start streaming out of holes inside her body, her guts get twisted, the pain is now too much to endure. She collapsed on the floor, water start to form inside the corner of her eyes, the world then turn blurry as if its drowning. "I've ruined every-damn-thing." she growl in desperated, her nails unconciously stratching the wooden floor making unbearable noise. Drop of warm tears landed on the ground, mix with the crimson color of her blood spilling through the tip of her fingers.

"Fuck-" Yunho ran up stairs as he hear strandled and broken noise. When did he have the key? "Are you okay?" He nervously pick her up on the ground, blood is still leaking and dropping on the floor along with her tears, which create a beautiful and wild picture of the kinda fuckup mixture. "Boss tell me to look after you when he's away but fuck- i don't think it can be this worse."

"Ah-it's fine, really." She blink her watery eyes then get herself back to reality, she is now sitting on her bed when Yunho kneel himself under it to dress her wounds. "Aish-" she squint her eyes because of the pain. "Is it hurt?" he stop his motions and look up to check her "Just tingling a bit." she paused "Thank you for coming." her eyes drop at her fingertips, slowly check out the sore from her movements. "It's a command from boss, i couldn't do any different." "Sure thing. You can leave now, i will take it from here." she toss her eyes out as a sign, he then stand up, bow before her and leave, not forget to say something on his way out "Please take care miss."

The night she spent without Hongjoong beside her was long, longer than expected. The flickering lights outside the building, the cold breeze came through the window, the breathy sound she made while laying in her bed, slow music playing in the background,..it all formed in a large empty space - their home - used to feel like home to be exact.

She lay there wide awake all night, watching the sky change it's apperance as time went by. From the color of enternal crimson, illuminated itself behind endless skyscraper, to the fresh rosy glow hidden itself behind those soft looking clouds. All of that turn out more than enough to calm the rising storm within her mind and her heart, maybe just for a short amount of time.

There were no sign of her boyfriend in the house, he would be always sitting at the kitchen table and wait for her to come down to have breakfast together. But today, he's nowhere to be seen, which break her heart a little bit. Trying not to think too much about his disappearance, she grabbed some left over stuffs in the fridge for somewhat called breakfast and sat herself down the table.

"Hey, it's me again, are you currently free ? i was going to grab you for some early coffee." she dialed her phone and called Rachel once again. "Ah-im sorry i can't go with you today, i have some kind of idk- sore in my body so, it won't be comfortable for me to go out." the voice sound like a whisper as someone just got woke up from her sleep "Oh- okay, take your time resting at home." She paused and took a deep breathe, "But-uhm-can i ask you something?" the words spilled out her mouth in hesitae. "Im listening." Rachel voice tone got lower, which is now feel like a serious bussiness.

"What can i do right now, like along with the whole incident nights ago, Hongjoong did ask me something and i am now torn different direction-" Juniel paused and let silence get a whole of it "I mean- Jun," Rachel voice glow up through the phone in a serious and comforting way "i know you regret what you've done toward him, and shit got worse because you try to hide things, but now it's your chance to make it up and be honest with him..He loves you as passionated as he could, that's why he is now hurting. Real bad wounds you've made lol." Rachel chuckle at the end of her sentence. She then put force into each words that went out of her mouth which stumbled into the other line "Learn from it." After those last words, Rachel hang up, the conversation get cut half-way.

A sign of that call get her mind back on track, she slide through her phone, wanting to call and check on her boyfriend but she texted him instead. 'Hongjoong, will you be home for dinner? I got something to tell you.' - A text was sent, Juniel don't want to bother him by calling and get herself in trouble after hearing his voice. Not so long after, she receive a reply.

'I'm out for bussiness, i will be back after 2 days and then we can talk. I guess you have your answer now right, so see you then.'

'Okay, then see ya! Take care.'

She drop her phone on her bed, burried her face down the piles of pillows. "2 days." she whisper to her ceiling "then its all or nothing."

Two days went by, standing in front of her is her dearest boyfriend - her boss - the leader of ATEEZ - Kim Hongjoong. He look a lot leaner than the last time she saw him. His jawline is looking way more sharpen than a knife and can easily cut through his thin layer of skin, his cheekbone raise higher than before which made his cheeks sink down. How did he become so slender in that short amount of time ?

"Have you had dinner yet ?" The weirdest sentence ever formed getting spoken from Hongjoong mouth. "What? What do you mean?" She startled by surprised, unconciously took a step back in worried. "I said, have you had dinner yet ?" He say that once again and look at her straight in the eyes as he raise one brow up. He look very concern and strange. "I have already but-" "Good. I've already had dinner on my way home. Go to sleep dear, it's late." He interrupt her sentence then took his turn to walk out the living room. "Wait-i do love you."

Her grip on his shirt force him back as he try to sneak away from a serious conversation she wanted to build since like 3 days ago. "I meant it, i love you Hongjoong."

"Yeah i know, that's why you're still here." he rub her head, his eyelids close slowly "Hear me and go to sleep first" he say as he walk away from hern leaving her disapointed. "But you know what babe,?" he suddenly stop and angle his head sideway "I can forgive you sweetheart, you and only you, but i can't forgive for the thing you've done to me that easily."

She then found her wrist being pulled with extreme force, his fingers wrap around it tightly as if it can leave marks. His movements were furious, she can barely stay in balance with her own foot. "I mean, you've been a bad girl." Her back touch harshly in the cold wall behind, his elbow land on both side of her head and a grunt came out, leaning himself closer to watch each of her expressions. "My bad. I'm sorry.." Her eyes stick to the ground as she speak "Look at me." His slender finger lift her chin up. Their eyes then collided, once look shuttered as it tried to hide it true feelings, once look heavy in sadness. "Things wouldn't have gone bad if i didn't accept the offer. I was scared- I.." She mumble in her throat, her voice get broken and her eyes get teary as she try to speak.

But in a split second, her cries get stuck between his lips, his kiss is so addicting yet painful to the touch. He slide his tongue inside her mouth angrily and wandering around like a lost child finally found his perfect home, he crazily bite her tongue and her lips until they both feel the taste of iron.

Red and sticky liquid spill of the corner of their mouth, which then turn out to become too painful to bear, she try to get away from the animal but he's too strong. Being a boss of a mafia organization has trained him to be powerful and fearless. She's been pinned into her place like a figure of animal hung on the wall as a reward, after an exhausting hunting session.

Can't move, can't scream.

She struggle in his restrain, crying and begging him to let go. But he didn't seem to care much about her reaction, he continue to devour her hungrily. "Bad girl need to learn how to behave." He then push her down on the bed, finally letting air to fill her heaving lungs once again. He brush the hair out of her face, take his time to admire the figure of his beloved one, who's covered in sweat, breathy sound and broken moans, before he fuck the life out of her. "Know that i love you." A kiss drop on her forehead, warning about the thing will happen after that. An angry session of sex maybe ? But she's too worn out to respond probally, just let out a light breathy moan as an answer. His intention today isn't pure. That's what she know.

Days after, things might have gone back to normal, nobody act weird as the days before anymore. But, they all have to (or try to) pretend that the incidence hasn't happened, beside that it's all good til the moment T.U walked in with a bunch of people carrying weapons.

"Long time no see boss." T.U carry a rifle on his shoulder, looking bossy as he rule the place. Hongjoong raise his head, cock a brow then calmly spin the pen in his hand "Why do you come here?" He ask stony. San's head turn backward as Hongjoong speak up to see who's standing at the door sound so fucking cockily. "Ah-you again?" San say as he turn back, slowly sip on his cup of tea.

"To keep it short," T.U smirk "I want ATEEZ. A whole army behind me won't take a no as an answer." He walk closer to Hongjoong's desk, dragging his rifle on the ground creating annoying sound. Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang then pull their gun out and take a step foward to protect their boss. Hongjoong lift a hand up as a sign for them to stand back from the arguement. "As a person who needs another country help, my bad if i offend you Yakuza, that's a bold statement for you to say oh boy." Hongjoong stand up and let out a smile, he push the chair out to create a space for him to walk out. The sound of his shoes touching the floor echoing the silent place. Yakuza is another big mafia organization, it's like ATEEZ but in Japan. Hongjoong expression didn't change a bit, maybe he let out a small smirk as how stupid T.U. is to mess with ATEEZ. San still sitting there, sitting and sipping his tea in peace, bother about nothing, even when the situation is getting in the nerve of people around here.

Hongjoong and T.U. now standing face to face with each other, the atmosphere is becoming more intense as time goes by. "Don't make me to fire any bullet. Which will mean war to everyone in here." T.U. voice raise up as a threat and he continue "Beside, look at the amount of people right here, my guys are way much more compare to yours." He make an action of brushing dirt on Hongjoong's shoulder and burst out laughing.

"You disgust me." Hongjoong push T.U. hand away from his shoulder and keep a straight face as he talk. He loosen his tie and put both of his hand in his pant pocket. T.U. startled as he think Hongjoong was going to pull out the gun, his hand movement shutter while he try to pull his rifle up for protection. "Relax. I won't shoot this soon." Hongjoong chuckle then turn his back and walk toward his desk, as he was walking, he felt a cold metal barrel reaching his head.

"Don't fucking test me." T.U. grunt in his throat, his finger got closer to the trigger. All of the ATEEZ member startled and point their gun in T.U. direction, Yakuza did the same thing to ATEEZ. Dead silence filled the room.

"Stay put. Im going to check things out there." Juniel whisper firmly as she slowly lower her body and crawl out to study the situation. Juniel and Rachel were making some kind of deserts in the kitchen while they heard metal sound smashing around and some strangers voice. "Is something wrong?" Rachel ask quietly, avoid creating loud noise. "As I observed, they're going to have a gun firing, soon." Juniel nervously say as she loaded her gun, put her hand on the trigger.

"There there," San turn around as he speak, he slowly put his cup down, the sound of it and the sound of his calmly voice draw everyone attention. He cross his legs, eyes piercing forward. "Don't be so impatient like that. Let's talk things through, shall we?" He sound exactly like a bussinessman dealing an offer to a customer, cautious and reliable. "What do you want to talk about, huh?" The gun now turn its head toward San "You wanna play with me right? Im not done with the last time you nearly hit me to death, Choi San." T.U. angrily put force into each of his words, finger still set into the trigger.

San suddenly burst out laughing, T.U. akwardly look at his reaction, his grip on the trigger then loosen a bit. That's the chance, Hongjoong quickly pull the gun out of its place in his belt and fire a shot. Waitting no more, a gun firing start as soon as the first bullet flew out of its barrel. "Shit-too soon Hongjoong." San swear as he try to find a place to hide under those bullet rain. Yunho quickly cover as he slide a gun toward San, took no time wondering, San grab the gun and loaded it as soon as possible and find his way to fire.

Hongjoong stand there, firing non-stop towards T.U., trying hard to hit him in his deadly part and finish him, but the unequal part of the individuals cause him lots of troubles. Wooyoung deadass seriously come to the gun battle with his shotgun and dagger for a close range fight. Yeosang hide behind the counter as he try to contact the others to come and give them a hand, sometimes look up and throw greenades toward the enemies and often terribly knock down some walls and funitures. Yunho stand beside Hongjoong as his right arm and kill anyone who stood in the way with his favorite uzi.

"Oh my god they're fighting do they?" Rachel ask in concern but don't expect an answer while the firing sound keep getting louder and sharper. "I need to keep you safe." Juniel say as her hand drop on Rachel's. "Don't worry." Not so long after Juniel ended her comforting sentence, a loud shout then appeared.

"BOSS!!" Yunho shout as Hongjoong fall down right beside him, Hongjoong then took his last effort to fire one last bullet towards T.U. The bullet spin itself around, swirling and cutting through thick air and smoky scene, land right on T.U. heart while he cockily watch Hongjoong fall. Not the right time to laugh i mean. T.U. collapsed not so long after, his heart stopped beating in that right moment.

Juniel quickly rush over to check Hongjoong out in the zone of falling bullets, not even afraid of herself getting killed. Fuck it her boyfriend has been shot and she couldn't do a thing about it. Wooyoung and Yeosang take the responsible of clearing the path which lead to Hongjoong place. They, included San, surrounded Hongjoong in circle, bullet spin out non-stop from outside trying to protect the inner circle.

"Fuck im running out of bullets"

"Me too"

"Shit-"

"What do we do now ?"

"Die. Duh."

"I have some spare knives if you want?"

"Give it to me and stop fucking around will ya?"

They argue as the Yakuza narrow their distance, ATEEZ bullets starting to weakly approach their enemies. "As my count, 1-2-3 GO!" San shout as a command, just wait for that, they all turn to different direction and throw blades, sliding the enemies neck open. But this plan can't hold for long. Knives vs Guns? Fucking kidding me.

Juniel has tried her best to covered the wounds but he's bleeding too much through the veins of his neck. She tried to put pressure on his blood shot neck by her shirt, tried to keep him concious, tried to save his life. But, nothing gonna change the fact that he's already dead minutes after all of her efforts. The wound was too deep, hit right through the main veins of his neck which caused blood boiling out like a freaking waterfall. Watching her man fall in front of her, slowly giving his life up but damn he's fucking not forgeting to smile and comfort her that things would be alright before he gone - afterall. His delicate hair strings stuck into his beautifully shaped face, his eyes closed shut, his smile still lingered on his lips. Fuck that shit, everything about him was so beautiful and yet, hurt as hell. She paint out a smile, slowly touch every corner of his face to memorize it, intertwined her hands to his as the body gone cold. A kiss drop on his forehead, she mumble those three words with a smile before standing up and put herself in the fight.

"Don't fucking fuck with me and my guys." Now the circle has one more person, the only person who has a fully loaded gun. Juniel start to fire her bullets, tears covered her eyes but the thing is, those tears won't stop her from killing. Anger grow in her eyes, burning flames and dead bodies. She has to get herself back together and killing is the right thing to do now. Aim restlessly at people and watch them fall down like a castle of cards facing the wind.

One by one. Dead.

Red vision. Darken eyes.

"Shit-" San just got shot on his chest as he swear, one hand put pressure on the wound. They're all hurted, one place or another. Not one man is safe and sound. Oh well except Rachel - she's hiding and turn more worry after she heard San swear of the pain, her fingertips collide to each other, her palm begin to sweat uncontrolably as she pray to herself everything would be fine.

Then suddenly a group of ATEEZ trainees come in, armored to their core, firing every enemies down. "Wow, so soon!" Yeosang drop down on the floor, provokingly say as he glare deathly at the leader of that group.

"Good job guys we fucking lost our boss" Yunho rub his messy hair while looking at Hongjoong body and sigh. "I will fucking kill you all after today." Wooyoung threaten, point of each of the individuals. Rachel has now came out to take care of San wound with an emergency kit on her hand. "Let me handle it, it might hurt a bit" Rachel say softly as she open San shirt and try to pull the pieces of bullet out by a twizzer. A tiny ouch leak out of San mouth, which Rachel find it cute and funny at the same time. Finished covering San wound to stop it from the infection, she then continue "First aid, then you all will go to the hospital." She then turn herself over and take care of others wounds carefully.

"Juniel, you got some slit in your arms and waist." She look up and find Juniel slowly close her eyes and shake her head as a no. After that, her figure dissapeared with Hongjoong body. "That might take a while." San sighs sadly, leaning himself back and try to move his chest up and down. "Keep an eye on her, please." Rachel speak up, almost sound like begging, her eyes filled with worry. "Sure, we will. Don't worry." Wooyoung answer quickly, gazing his eyes through all those dead bodies in front of him.

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juleswolverton-hyde · 7 years ago

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Your brand part 3

Genre: Tattoo Artist AU, romance, smut

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Taehyung x Reader

Warning: Penetrative sex, blowjob, eating out, voyeurism, male masturbation

Summary: ''Let me ink your ink your skin like you've inked your brand on my heart.''

For Ana, my partner in crime and source of inspiration.

What should have been a simple outing to get a tattoo at the most well-known tattoo shop in town, Ink Borough, results in being engraved by the biggest name in the world of ink and boss of the parlour, Kim Taehyung. However, getting a tattoo can entail a whole lot more than one might think.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Masterlist

Conventionality has been thrown out the window, perchance already when I started a fight with Taehyung right outside Ink Borough before I could have known he would be the one to mark my skin, put his brand on me.

And that a new addiction was to be found.

Our footsteps head towards the door next to the parlour's entrance which leads to a small studio which crisp white walls are decorated with various tattoo sketches that are pinned to the surface. The floor is made of actual wood, unlike the linoleum in the shop beyond. The desk in front of us reaches from one end of the space to the other and is cluttered with notebooks, pens and pencils, and art books.

Other than the creative mess, it is clean and well-organized.

'Maybe it's handier for both of us if you sit down.' The foreign tone of Taehyung's voice has become uneven, caught between seriousness in order to properly finish what we started and the drive to act without any further thought.

A bit awkward thanks to the heat in my veins, especially the ones that are located lower, I take a seat on the grey loveseat put beside the door as he pulls out a first-aid kit from a cabinet underneath the workspace. He tries to maintain his composure when he applies a protective layer of ointment, his digits gliding sensationally over the sore skin, causing me to bite my lip and him noticing but not daring to look up, and a bandage over the phoenix. Immediately the toughness which has never really been there in the first place vanishes and I am purely me, a girl who has walked into the tiger's den unquestionably as the hunter lead her to it.

'There,' he says as it is done, clearly forcing himself to clean up the supplies instead of giving in to instinct. 'All done and dusted. Now, for aftercare-' He struggles to continue the sentence, but comes up short on words.

'Taehyung?' I ask, my voice also odd like his. 'Is everything alright?'

'Is everything alright, she asks.' A breathless laugh. 'Shit, I can't do this.' The medical necessities are left for what they are and he stands up to stretch his long legs. Slender fingers run through the ash grey-brown silky locks of his hair, increasing the desire to replace his hand with mine. 'Dammit, do you know how difficult it is to hear you in that way? Touch your skin when you react that way? And then your scent.' He takes a deep breath, gaze shifted to the ceiling before it returns to me. 'But what really distracts me are your eyes, making me wonder how they will look staring into mine as I do things to you I didn't even think of before.'

'So that's why you couldn't keep still.' I smirk triumphantly, satisfied I have driven him to the edge.

'Soon you can't.' Something dark casts a veil over him, voice back to its husky state.

'What do you-'

An unexpected rush forwards and his lips crash onto mine, barely controlled. Gradually, he climbs on top of me, forcing me to lie down so his tall figure looms over me. 'I have yet to repay you for the drinks.'

A trail of pecks from my mouth to my jaw turns into bites the further it descends. Moans begin to flow once more, but this time form his name instead of just being noise. Long fingers rapidly remove the scarce clothing the season requires, though they move more languidly when they reach the soaked black hipster. 'Baby, no wonder I could smell your delicious scent so strongly.'

A long kiss followed by another kind of mark from him on the inner thigh. A kitten lick over what defines me as a woman makes my back arch, giving the tormentor precisely the access he wants. Hands rush to his hair to hold on and keep him in place as his tongue begins to dance over the sensitive skin and deep hums reach my core.

'Tae, slow- slow down. I- I can't-'

He disregards the begging, quickening his rhythm, my hips wanting to join but are forcefully held down by a demon god allied with spirits instead of waging war against them and two tigers. The restriction stretches the chase for euphoria, but not long enough for me to reach it shortly after.

He cleans every bit of the repayment up, slowly freeing me from the iron hold as breathing becomes easier and he has collected his due. With his thumb, the inked devil swipes the last bit of residue off his swollen lips and licks it, appreciating the taste. 'Not only do you sound amazing, you taste good too. Y/N,' he leans down to rest his forehead against mine, noses touching and voice soft, 'You made me fall hard, but,' a kiss that lets me taste my own brackish flavour as he exerts dominance with his tongue, 'you still have to pay for the tattoo.'

His presence removes itself from the couch. Muscular arms remove the black top covering his chest, upon the right side of which a grey dragon outlined in black holds the symbol of balance, yin and yang, within its claws.

Still caught by the aftermath of his tongue technology, I dazedly get up, looking at the tall tanned man standing beside the piece of furniture. 'Let's see if those watery eyes are as beautiful as in the fantasy.'

More clarity is unnecessary, the sound of a zipper and clothing being removed the sole noises in the studio. His fingers tilt my head upwards so as to meet his chocolate-coloured gaze. 'Remember, eyes on me, baby.'

Innocence has left, erased by the sounds of the chase my mouth sets him on. Gazes stay locked. Lip bites followed by curses uttered in pleasure. Grunted compliments and encouragements despite him having complete control over me, his slender fingers entangled in my hair. Once a gag disturbs the trance, but the notice it even occurred is quickly forgotten when I adjust to the new depth.

'You're so beautiful,' a brief stop to gather his breath, voice having become more hoarse as he comes close to enlightenment. 'With me in your mouth.'

A few more thrusts to feed his wanting, the stickiness below growing and dripping onto the ground. I hum, the tone somewhere between a plea and delight, the tremor being what provides the final push. Silt and tang evade my tastebuds, providing a taste I never had before. His hand falls from my hair after riding out his trance. Gently he helps me to my feet, removes a strand of hair from my eyes and kisses me lovingly.

This should have been it, the end of this spontaneous affair.

Nevertheless, it is not, for there is still an ache only he can cure.

The twisted scent is back.

'Taehyung,' I whisper, but it is as if he reads my mind and knows what words would have followed his name had I regained the ability to speak. My fingers simultaneously brush over the rose and clockwork on his neck 'I want you.'

'Wasn't it enough?' A grin graces his handsome features. I shake my head.

Eyes travel down his skin. 'Also not for you?'

'No,' he chuckles. 'It'll never be enough. You've inked your brand on my heart as I have inked your skin. But before we do this, let me first grab something.'

He moves to the discarded jeans in the corner of the room and pulls a wrapper from his wallet, which he rips open and puts on the content.

Tae's hungry lips find mine again, his hands lifting me up, my legs wrapping automatically around his narrow waist, and carrying me until skin makes contact with the wall. Bodies connect, breathing speeds up after being temporarily slowed down, nails scraping over his shoulders, causing pleased moans.

It is short and sweet, filled with more love than our previous actions had been.

We both fall off the edge into blinding bliss, keeping each other close.

I hold on dearly as he manoeuvres us to the couch, where he carefully puts me down on the smoky grey seating with the last of his energy before he takes off the used protection, throws it in the bin underneath the desk, and lays down on top of me, listening to my heartbeat.

'Let me ink your skin again,' Taehyung mumbles as my hand caresses his ashy locks.

'If you don't mind, I have yet to heal from this one. But if I am ready for a second one, I want it to be you that handles the tools.'

'Be "the person who handles the decorating tools", you mean.'

I giggle. 'Yes, exactly.'

His head perks up. 'Good, because I'm not letting another touch you. Especially not the rookie.'

'Rookie?'

'Yeah, his name is Jungkook and he is apprenticing under my tutorship. Immense flirt, so if he ever touches you I'll kill him.' At the reminder of the novice, his eyes flare up, annoyed by the potential competition.

'Calm down, hot shot.' I ease him back down again and resume combing his smooth locks with my fingers, earning a relaxed sigh. 'I'm yours and-' A light snoring interrupts me mid-sentence. Taehyung has fallen asleep, the exhaustion having gotten to him sooner than expected. 'And you're my artist.'

Ink Borough is suspiciously quiet. I glance around the studio styled in an industrial fashion, but only the filled cups of ink and darkened water betray someone was here recently.

All seems quiet, until I strain my ears and hear noise coming from my mentor's, Taehyung's, studio. Sounds that seem very out of place, but also make me bite my lip as steamy fantasies begin to haunt the mind.

'With me in your mouth,' I hear a familiar deep voice say.

I peer through the crack of the door, something I should not have done because I am intruding on a very personal moment. Nevertheless, I cannot avert my eyes from the girl, the way she takes him, the sounds she makes. It is maddening.

Pants tighten, fingers begin to shake, a voice within tempts me to stay and watch. Which I do, feet rooted in place instead of walking, albeit reluctantly, towards my own office. It is simple, but everything a tattoo artist can possibly need is present within those four beige walls. Including privacy, which seems to be had here now anyway with nobody in the parlour.

This shall definitely be used as blackmail when Tae does not let me do tats he knows I am actually able to handle, since that girl has to be a customer, judging by the bandaging on her right arm.

On a completely different note, if the owner can get a woman to do that to him within such a short amount, why would I not be able to do the same?

Maybe it a stupid sense of rivalry, but exactly due to him being a big example and name in the tattoo world, I endeavour to surpass him in every way, even this one. Preferably, as soon as possible.

I know I can be better, have to be, and this inspires me to keep going on this path.

Her image in combination with Taehyung's words filters through the competitive thoughts and sets fire to my veins again.

'I can't believe I'm doing this here,' I mumble, fingers slipping past the rim of my jeans and boxer-short. Although I cannot see her face, I imagine her as gorgeous with a flair of the girl I bedded last night. I close my eyes, letting imagination swallow me as I take over the role of my mentor in the setting behind the door.

The sound is vivid, watery eyes gazing up at me, warm breath enveloping me. 'Just like that, baby girl,' I moan softly, entranced by her gaze.

A flick of the tongue, fingers entwining themselves with strands of hair, taking control. 'Faster, baby.'

She speeds up, easily adjusting to the new intoxicating depth I have driven her to. 'You like it, don't you, me taking you this way?' The scent of her longing fills the air, confirming the question. When I briefly open my eyes to drink in the image of the real her again, there is a sheen between her thighs. 'Seems someone is getting needy.' A confident smile. 'Such a good girl.'

She hums, a sound somewhere between begging and satisfaction, the vibration of which felt in phantom form, lets me reach a muffled euphoria.

Vision clears, showing the reality and the liquid staining my hands. No longer is there any magic except for in thoughts that should have come to fruition in privacy.

Heavily breathing, I rapidly correct my appearance, wiping my hands on a tissue I find in the pocket of my jeans and throwing it in the bin underneath Jimin's, the receptionist's, desk before sneaking away to my office. Tae seems to get to continue the fun, the partially made-up image of the beautiful girl with him still haunting me as I make for the safe harbour. Fortunately, their racket gets silenced when I close the door, plop down on the chair next to the white desk against the eastern wall above which hang various forms of organizational shelves and put in headphones before starting on a new set of sketches. Once the mellow tones of the indie music begin to resonate in my ears, every thought that should not be vanishes and thus makes room for the original goal.

It is time to pursue the achievement of surpassing Taehyung.

To prove him I am no child.

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thedegenerateasexual · 7 years ago

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i’m liveblogging chapters 2-7 (they’re short chapters, i don’t wanna make too many posts, but this one is actually super long, so whatever) of let’s talk about love under the cut - i started on my main, but there’s too much sex stuff in it to keep going there (sigh) so i’m moving it over here. i should have just done it here to begin with, smh. (bolding still mine)

After five days of awkwardly inching around each other in their room, [Margot] had told Alice she wanted a “clean break” right before she finished moving out. Didn’t even want to be friends anymore because asexuality was unnatural.

(Okay, so maybe Margot didn’t say that exactly, but that’s how it felt.)

hey, margot can get fucked, this is how people wind up internalizing some serious bullshit

Moschoula had tanned skin, the kind of color that implied she was most likely mixed rather than white, with kinky, natural burnt-orange hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head.

Cutie Code: Yellow, no question about it.

An intense obsession with aesthetics had taken Alice by surprise in high school and she had begun to code her reactions. She had created Alice’s Cutie Code™, complete with a color wheel for easy categorizations—from Green to Red, with all the colors in between.

HTIS IS SO CUTE this is not unlike Asexual Bingo what a universal Ace Mood™ to make up internal little categorizations like this (also moschoula sounds like a babe)

[Alice] had met Moschoula and her friends during a Pride rally at school. She was the only girl in that group who didn’t snub Alice for being bi.

HEY AND THERE’S ANOTHER THING bi people get so much bullshit for being bi so even tho she isn’t out as ace the fact that she’s biromantic still puts her in a place where she’s less likely to feel welcome in queer spaces like if she got snubbed for that no wonder she doesn’t wanna come out as ace

It had all been Margot’s idea. She had kissed Alice first. She had convinced her to date. She had wanted this, wanted her. And Alice had fallen for it and Margot and everything they were and could be. She had believed in Margot and their relationship. Had thought herself to death about it, and each night it resurrected itself in her dreams. Margot made her want this specific brand of happiness. Made her believe she could have it.

Feeling stupid didn’t even cover it.

i feel like I’M the one sitting in a coffeeshop and crying my eyes out

How could Margot say something like that?

What made sex so integral that people couldn’t separate the emotional love they felt from one physical act?

Love shouldn’t hinge solely on exposing your physical body to another person. Love was intangible. Universal. It was whatever someone wanted it to be and should be respected as such. For Alice, it was staying up late and talking about nothing and everything and anything because you didn’t want to sleep—you’d miss them too much. It was catching yourself smiling at them because wow, how does this person exist?? before they caught you. It was the intimacy of shared secrets. The comfort of unconditional acceptance. It was a confidence in knowing no matter what happened that person would always be there for you.

If Alice couldn’t even tell Margot she was asexual, then no, she hadn’t been in love.

YOU GO ALICE NO YOU WEREN’T & also she sounds like a jerk anyway

Moschoula tapped the back of Alice’s hand. “It’s good to see you smile.”

“Only for you.”

“You know my girlfriend hates it when you say things like that to me.”

“Adoration and continuous compliments are how I express my affections.” Alice rolled her eyes. “And it’s not like I say it in front of her. There’s literally nothing to be jealous of.”

Moschoula sighed. “I think she just wants you to, uh, compliment her, too.”

“Oh.” Alice pursed her lips. “I thought she didn’t like me, but I think I can arrange that.”

1. is moschoula poly because that’d be rad 2. what a mood what are friends for if you can’t compliment them all the time like obviously never ever give out fake compliments but Still (also hey look at that! ace can still be affectionate to lots of people! it’s one of those base things u know objectively but like it’s so nice to see up close)

chapter 3:

she found a pic of her and margot while moving in w/ her bestie and her bestie’s bf and she’s sad and i’m sad:

She noticed Margo’s giant mound of hair before anything else about her—it was that natural sunlit blond tempered with streaks of light and dark brown that sent customers in droves to hair salons. It complemented her beautiful olive skin, soft gray eyes, and that wickedly easy smile always up for a challenge.

She was Cutie Code: Orange-Red and then she was just Margot before becoming Alice’s Margot, but now she wasn’t anything.

Because Alice was a Corpse.

Because she was unnatural and incapable of loving someone.

(God, when in the hell was this going to stop hurting?)

this shit is exactly what i mean! she even knows better than to believe it and it still hits below the belt!

omg okay so she is out to some people!! her bestie’s bf at least:

[Ryan] plucked the picture from her fingers. “It’s for your own good,” he said when she protested. “I just can’t believe she said that to you. I mean, I know you’re not lying, but she seemed so nice.”

“It’s the nice ones you have to watch out for.” She crossed her arms. “Or whatever that stupid saying is. Why can’t I find someone who loves being with me, as is, as much as I love being with them? Romantically. Am I asking for too much?”

“I say this cautiously because it’s not the only answer, but maybe try dating someone who’s ace, too.”

She scoffed. “Long-distance relationships are not my jam, and that’s probably all I’d find. The Internet is great, a lot of my friends live there, but I want a partner who’s here with me.” She flicked a white speck off a black stuffed bear before setting it down on her sliver of a desk. The thing was barely three feet wide. “I’m tired of putting myself out there,” she mumbled.

god damn what a mood

“If you need to cry, then cry, but just promise me you won’t do it in front of Feenie, please.” He glanced at the doorway before lowering his voice. “I’ve already had to talk her out of driving to Margot’s house this week. Twice.”

“But she lives in Iowa.”

“Twice,” he repeated. “You know how she gets.”

Feenie had always been (lovingly) overprotective of Alice. If she had told Feenie what Margot had actually said, Feenie would probably disappear into the night and her mug shot would be everywhere in the morning.

feenie’s a good egg.

Back then, Alice … didn’t even know if she had wanted to date yet, but she also didn’t have any doubts about her asexuality. She had spent countless hours thinking and coming to terms with what that meant, the kind of future she wanted to have, and if that could possibly include another person.

The bottom line was her body had never shown so much as a flicker of sexual interest in anyone. But that didn’t mean she liked being alone. That didn’t mean she wasn’t lonely. That didn’t mean she didn’t want romance and didn’t want to fall in love. It didn’t mean she couldn’t love someone just as fiercely as they loved her.

this is also a mood like…i don’t know ANY ace person who hasn’t at one point had to think about this - like to so many people to be asexual is to be alone and that’s just facts. and yeah, of course it’s not true objectively, but when it’s your life and you’re looking at all those long years in your future it’s not as easy to feel so sure

omg so her parents called and her mom is apparently kind of overbearing…alicve is going to law school! her whole family is lawyers so alice must also be lawyer except she hasn’t declared her major yet

loving this parental conflict tbh like as good as the ace stuff is i love that she can be more than that

chapter 4:

ALICE IS MEME GARBAGE PASS IT ON

Cara waved back before pointing toward the table closest to the elevator.

Alice looked—her Cutie Code™ immediately shot up to Red.

(That hadn’t happened at first sight since the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show last year and never in the wild.)

She stopped in front of the elevator, facing forward, and pressed the button. A curious, nervous sensation wriggled and rooted itself down inside her chest. Alice looked over her shoulder again, blinking rapidly at the person reading on his phone, completely oblivious.

Only his profile was visible. Tanned skin. Dark eyebrows. Strong chin. And a tiny curl of hair brushing against his forehead. He held his thumbnail in between his teeth, his index finger curving over his top lip, the rest of his hand curled into a loose fist. Most likely to hide his smile—whatever he was reading was making him adorably happy.

Her Cutie Code™ ticked upward until it strained against the top.

The elevator pinged. Alice shrugged off the sensation and walked inside. Turning around, she pressed the button for the fifth floor.

Just as the doors began to close, the Cutie Code: Red person in question lifted his head, looking right at Alice. She staggered backward, clutching the banister as the elevator began to ascend.

Kill Bill sirens blared in Alice’s head.

KILL BILL SIRENS LOL

also like…what a mood. every once in awhile it’s like a lightning strike. and u just have to stagger a lil bit

The elevator hummed and whirred, the floors illuminated and darkened as they were passed, and the air inside wrapped her in its warm, fake-pine smelling embrace. Same as always. Nothing had changed, magically making today the day she became moments away from suffering a massive heart attack.

Sure, she hadn’t worked out for a while (see: ever) and her diet primarily consisted of ramen noodles during lean times (see: all the time), but this was a bit overkill. Her body had, at least, a minimum of fifteen years before she had to worry about that kind of thing.

Out of the elevator and in the hall, she took a moment to catch her breath. It was a hop, skip, and a jump to the break room and she wasn’t sure if it was empty. The library didn’t have many employees, but the last thing she needed was someone to spot her and ask if she was okay.

(In her mind, she was sure she had that whole deer about to die in the headlights look going on.)

OMG ALICE GIRL CALM DOWN LOL this is so cute im gonna die

Alice blew out a huff of breath. Right, then. Time for work. The continued cute analysis would have to wait.

(Maybe he would still be downstairs.…)

(FOCUS, WOMAN!)

(Right!)

ic annot believe this

She tried to take a sly peek to see who it was and … Jesus.

(Sweet God in heaven, have mercy on her soul.)

Her Cutie Code™ blasted straight past the Red zone. If it were a pressure gauge, the glass would have cracked right down the middle.

He was gorgeous—and that was not a word Alice threw around lightly. Not just “Hi, I’m the new boy next door” gorgeous, but the kind of gorgeous that would make you slap your mama. The kind of gorgeous you’d stab your best friend of twenty years in the back, set her house on fire, and drive off into the sunset with her husband for. Have sex in the break room at work even though you know there are security cameras in there gorgeous.

As if she’d actually do any of those things.

She always laughed at characters who lost every last drop of their common sense on TV and in movies when someone too attractive for words crossed their path. If this guy was on a show, he’d be considered the kind of gorgeous that would cause midseason plot twists and act-two spinouts, leaving the viewer on the edge of their seat because their beloved characters were goners after looking into those dark brown eyes.

And he stared at her.

(Too much cute.)

(A veritable cutie-induced overload.)

There was a place for cute and every cute in its place. Whoever he was hadn’t just exceeded her scale. He had broken it.

Cutie Code: Black—the Next Generation.

It had to either be him or the heart attack had been replaced by a disorienting fever virus. This was how it happened in the movies: some poor soul (Alice) was doing great, having a perfectly normal (and punctual!) day. And then, in some innocuous way, they’d have contact with Patient Zero (him) and boom—uncontrollable sweating, fever, chills, hemorrhaging, and then … death.

This wouldn’t kill her (possibly), but she had an idea what it was.

Attraction: The Final Frontier.

The Fatal-est Attraction.

Death Becomes Attraction.

im sry this was such a long excerpt but i am absolutely cackling like 1. YEP THERE IT IS LOL 2. the bolded is such a mood 3. this technically makes her gray-ace!!!!! wow i love her

so he’s working at the library with her and the rest of this chapter is her showing him how to clock in and using as few words as possible bc she’s wigging out and like forgot how to talk like a normal human being. lowkey he keeps grinning at her so i think he’s got her number

also, he has blue hair. wonderful

chapter 5:

“Why are you crying? What happened?” Feenie’s concerned face filled the screen on Alice’s phone.

OMG HONEY PLEASE UR GONNA BE OKAY i can’t believe this i want to hug her that’s the first line of chapter five

BACKSTORY TIME:

In elementary school, while all of Alice’s friends had talked about boys they liked, she had kept quiet.

In middle school, she had pretended to have a crush on Patrick Furlong so she would have someone to talk about, too.

(This was where she had begun to perfect the art of playing along.)

In high school, Alice had gone all out, pretending to be hopelessly in love with Sam Oliphant. She had damn near snatched the this love is our destiny crown right off Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald Crane Winthrop’s head.

oh damn mood lmao i spent so much time in school pretending to have crushes on boys

But this had been where Alice messed up. Turned out, Sam had a thing for Alice, too. A different kind of thing, but a thing nonetheless.

He had asked her out. She had to say yes.

Oh No

Alice had been trying to sort out the difference between romantic attraction (which she felt) and sexual attraction (which she didn’t). By the end of their first week together, she knew for a fact that she didn’t even want to be Sam’s friend anymore. He was an awful human being. A human-shaped garbage fire. A waste of space and genetic material.

But finally, finally, she fit in perfectly with her friends.

(Peer pressure was a helluva drug.)

ARE YOU KIDDING THIS EXACT SAME THING HAPPENED TO ME LOL (he STROKED my arm and SNAPPED my bra stap, WITHOUT permission, IN the hallway while EVERYONE was changing classes)

the reason i didn’t break up with him wasn’t because of peer pressure (i didn’t really have many friends) because i didn’t want to be mean and hurt his feelings (looking back: bananas, but he had like…….bought me presents), but then he kissed another girl in the cafeteria so i was free to shove a mean locker in his letter and never speak to him again, thank the good lord

Normal felt like a constant state of despair, but they had stopped teasing her. Had stopped giving her pitying looks, calling her “innocent” and excluding her from sleepovers because she had nothing romantic to gossip about.

Fast-forward six months, she’s dumped with a new nickname. The Corpse. Because kissing him had been an ordeal to overcome. Because she never seemed interested in touching him (see: jacking him off). Because she had just lay there while Sam had sex with her, and he had told everyone.

lmao im gonna start crying again wow. wow. she hated him and still let him & he did her like that. okay. this is fine. i want to fly out there & kill him

Whenever Alice thought about that time, two things stuck out:

One—Francine Loren’s mock whisper in the locker room: “I heard she didn’t moan. Not even when he went down on her.”

Two—the curiously soft sound of Feenie’s fist connecting with Francine’s face layered with the instantaneous crunch of bone cracking.

FEENIE IS A GOOD EGG AND I LOVE HER what teenage me wouldn’t have given for someone to punch a particular person in the face for me

Feenie standing up for her gave Alice the courage to tell her friend the truth. She had confessed she thought something might be wrong, so one day, after health class, they had talked to their teacher, who then said the word: asexual.

man…………………….look………..as much as i bitch and whine about a lot of ace media (see: fic, there is no ace media) being like This Person Is Asexual Here Is A Vocabulary Lesson college 101 course type stuff…can you FUCKIGN imagine if a health teacher could just tell you this shit? my health teachers werent even allowed to talk about gay people, or orgasms - one time when someone asked how you know sex is over the reply was “it’s over when the man ejaculates” - imagine if you could just go to someone and get told there was nothing wrong with you!

like alice dealt with this for SIX MONTHS and let someone she hated touch her body and that is HORRIBLE enough right there, but like i hear of stories of 60-year-olds with kids realizing that shit about themselves, & like…not to get personal! (about to get personal) i was with someone who was, uh, really horrible, for YEARS, & he was giving me all that rhetoric margot was spewing on the daily

& it took SO MUCH internet reading to figure it out and even when i did i was like, no, no, i’m demi, i can be attracted to him because i love him, & while part of that was bc i was afraid of making him angry (horrible! he was horrible) another part of me was because i was SO SURE (going back to what they talked about in the first chapter) that if i couldn’t enjoy sex w/ him i couldn’t love him. (so was he!) like….i figured out what i was and it felt right as in correct but not right as in good. my IMMEDIATE kneejerk reaction was “no god not this i cannot be this there has to be some way to make myself not this”

anyway sorry that sure was a textwall of unnecessary bullshit i’m so relieved no one will be interested enough to read this post but this book is Real & touches me deeply is all im saying

Feenie eyed her, keeping her face neutral. “And you think you’re attracted to him?”

“What else could it be? It’s not just me appreciating how cute something is like I usually do. He’s beautiful, Feenie. I almost melted into primordial soup of Alice.”

“And he’s so beautiful, you think you want to have sex with him?”

Alice fidgeted in her seat. “I’m not sure.”

Feenie gave her a withering look. “Okay, well, how did he make you feel?”

“Like I was stupid. I’m serious! Don’t look at me like that. My mind went completely blank and filled up with white noise.”

AWWW HONEY she is crying because she felt attraction & see on the other end even once you’ve finally internalized all the Good Shit™ sometimes that will happen and ur like Oh No I’m a Bad Ace I Really Was Just Broken All Along god that’s rough buddy i’m so glad she has such a good best friend

The Cutie Code™ was a fun game, but it was also a system used for critical analysis��Alice’s way of processing the different kinds of attraction everyone else seemed to experience. She only shared her system/game with those whose opinions she trusted, to see how her coding compared to theirs.

It was about feeling—the level of emotions it could evoke from her, how likely it would be to make her squee, and most important, how did her body physically respond to it.

A naked, muscular male chest was Code: Red for Feenie. Meanwhile, it was Uncodable for Alice. Over time, it expanded to include everything, and Alice had become obsessed with it.

i love that she has this way of classifying things internally and like…that it’s different for everybody like my internal way of classifying things is not at all like this but it’s all valid n shit

She needed to push it to the back of her mind, get some perspective. Tomorrow, when she got to work, everything would be the way it was before she ever laid eyes on Takumi. She’d call it a fluke, yes, a one-off event, due to her body short-circuiting from stress. It would not happen again.

chapter 6:

Oh dear God.

She had been wrong. So very, very wrong.

lmao

The feelings, the sensations, came right back, flooding into her like they had never faded. Alice had always wondered what physical attraction would feel like, and while she didn’t necessarily dislike it, she wished there were a button she could press to turn it back off.

oh MOOD. me daily when i see Certain People: that’s enough of that allo bullshit, thanks

And she was still mystified. And attracted. Like a giant dumbstruck moth to a supernaturally beautiful bug zapper. Screaming was most definitely not in Alice’s best interests, but that didn’t stop the urge to want to do it.

alice is SO valid i love and support her

Essie was determined to crack the Cutie Code™. Once, it baffled her how a painted image of the aurora borealis could surpass her own Code: Yellow. Essie had spent a solid twenty minutes arguing how she was more attractive than some “weird, squiggly green lights in the sky.”

There’s no way Alice would admit that Takumi was Code: Black. Once she explained it, vainer-than-vain Essie might lovingly murder her.

cutie code is also valid i love that like it encompasses everything and not just people that’s such a cool look into the way that other people work - this is the kind of shit i mean when i say being ace is about more than not being attracted to other people - just like how when you’re gay you don’t do all that Straight Culture BS like saying babies have boy/girlfriends or whatever - like, being ace, it’s often a terribly lonely, isolating experience that can be full of self-loathing, but it’s a contemplative one too, and when romance is off the table (by choice or not) there can be so much joy in the other kinds of connections you make with people, anyway i absolutely love the cutie code

chapter 7:

there’s this whole long thing about her sister beign like CALL ME and alice being like LMAO NO which is also a mood

omg and then while shes waitin on her bus takumi sits down next to her

“Do you want a ride?”

A ride. In his car. Alone.

Good God.

She shook her head.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine. All the time. I mean, I take the bus. All the time.” She gave herself a mental high five for forming actual words.

this is the cutest shit i’ve ever seen

“Are,” Takumi began slowly, “you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You seem kind of”—he moved farther down the seat away from her, eyes concerned—“tense.”

girl i know

“Still not feeling talkative, huh?” he teased.

“It’s your fault,” she blurted, making him laugh.

“Is that right?” He tilted his head to the side, smiling while biting his bottom lip.

A severe hot flash ripped through her, level: wildfire. It started in her head and scorched its way downward until it singed the coral pink nail polish off her toes. It may have been due to embarrassment or possibly desire (???), because, at that moment, they felt eerily similar to her.

desire (???) is the BIGGEST ace mood

She knew that look.

The Look. The one a person used when they tried to figure out if they liked what they saw enough to date. Not even a month ago, she wished people would stop giving her that look so she wouldn’t ever have to explain about being asexual. Did she want Takumi to find her attractive? She wasn’t sure, because what if he did? What if he asked her out?

What if, what if, what if?

Why, why, why?

Margot’s smiling face popped into her head. A warning. This was the beginning, and regardless of what happened with Takumi in the middle, everything would end with that one word. He’d want to know. She’d have to explain.

OH NOOOOOO this is so sad like………yeah obviously you’re gonna stop bothering lmao when you already know how it will end. garbage! that’s garbage!

anyway With That i unfortunately have to sleep it’s 6am

but this is the best book EVER

#ltal #personal #too personal lol w/e #this is the best book EVER!!!!!!

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cedar-woods · 4 years ago

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UPDATE: Wife (31F) and I (36M) can't figure out how to get her to orgasm. Need help figuring out her sexual response. Beginning to feel worthless as a man.

Thanks to everyone who responded with sympathetic comments and presented criticism in a positive way. I read all your comments. I talked to her about all this and how I felt. We had a big fight.

The result of our heated discussion: After a day or two things calmed down and we settled into a normal routine with no animosity. I see her as LL. She says I have a crazy high sex drive. I did not make any promises after the fight and she's just hoping that I stop being so demanding. We're continuing to have sex once every 10 days or so. Way lower than I'd like.

She still refuses to even think about masturbating, says she doesn't like the idea of it and would prefer to have me do stuff to her instead. She refuses to tell me why she doesn't want to do it and that I should respect her decision to stop asking, which I have now.

She has told me she loves me but doesn't find me physically sexually attractive. Not just me but any other super handsome chiseled guy either. Says her brain just doesn't work that way. She's attracted to the kind of person I am, not my looks or body.

What I've realized:

No matter how much I want it, no matter how hard I try, getting an orgasm is under HER control, not mine.

Making her orgasm or me showing her how good sex can be is not going to magically maker her HL. This is who she is and who she'll always be.

She has other ways of showing affection than what I like. She is incapable of showing affection in a way that I find meaningful today. However she shows affection in other ways. Sure she can't give me a tight passionate hug the way I want, but she can spend an hour cooking my favourite meal. I need to start recognizing what she does give rather than what she doesn't.

Despite me being unhappy with sex I want to consider our overall relationship and not only the one aspect. There are "practicalities in life". This woman is generally caring, smart, financially savvy, socially outgoing, does well with her share of the house and kids. I'm not ready to risk losing all these on the off chance that my next partner has some of these traits aswell as a HL. Obviously I'd prefer to stay with my kids too and be there for them as they grow up.

Thinking back, she had way more energy before we had kids. Even if we didn't have sex that often, she would still give me a LOT of attention. I can not put into words how much I miss her. I miss spending time with her, so much. Despite us being in close proximity during quarantine, I don't feel connected the way we used to be. Thinking about it now, this is what I really want from her. Me demanding sex might have been my subconscious way of making us feeling connected again. So its not necessarily the daily passionate sex I want, but her attention and affection. (maybe I'm over thinking this)

My plans: I'm going to stick around for another 3 years (arbitrary limit I've set for myself). This will have given the kids time to grow up and then hopefully make more time for ourselves as a couple. At that point if her energy levels go back at least to what they were before we had kids I think I can live with that. If she continues to stay in this rut, well, I can't live like that forever.

Immediately, I'm going to stop talking about sex and stop pressuring her. I'm going to try to generally be more caring outside the bedroom. I'd like to "reset" us and let us get reacquainted again.

Longer term, in 6 to 12 months, I'm going to calmly tell her my physical needs and ask her to meet them as best as possible. No expectations for the first two years, will just see how she does. By the 3rd year I'm going to need to have a more serious talk with her if things are still really bad. If she shows any degree of improvement I think I'd be happy just to see her trying.

Right now having sex together is a 4. Both orgasming together would be a 10. I'm still going to continue to try to make her orgasm but without the goal of reaching orgasm, more with the goal of trying to make her feel better and better. I'm going to try to do this less by reading stuff online and more by trying to observe how her body reacts to my touch and words. This way, after multiple tries, we might never hit a 10, but we could get to a 5 or a 7 and there would be no pressure on her to actually orgasm.

Thankyou reddit for listening to me, providing perspective and helping me get my thoughts organized.

submitted by /u/Rein-Force [link] [comments] source https://www.reddit.com/r/sexover30/comments/idq2aj/update_wife_31f_and_i_36m_cant_figure_out_how_to/

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xwwaqdyd-blog · 5 years ago

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relationshipadviser-blog · 5 years ago

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Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/is-sex-the-answer-to-your-relationship-woes/

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Michele Weiner-Davis, the marriage-guidance counsellor, explains why she thinks having sex even if you dont feel like it is the foundation of a happy relationship

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Sex

Inner life

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Michele Weiner-Davis, the marriage-guidance counsellor, explains why she thinks having sex even if you dont feel like it is the foundation of a happy relationship

Amelia Hill

@byameliahill

Sun 21 Jan 2018 01.00EST Last modified on Sun 21 Jan 2018 09.52EST

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Just Do It. Your partner will be grateful, happier and therefore nicer, too, says Michele Weiner-Davis. Illustration: Andrea De Santis/Observer

How does it make you feel when your partner is cold and distant? Or when theyre critical and prickly? Does it make you want to rip their clothes off, order in a vat of whipped cream and install a chandelier to swing from?

No? Well theres your problem according, at least, to Michele Weiner-Davis, the marriage-guidance counsellor whose Ted talk explaining her unconventional advice to warring couples has been viewed almost 3.5 million times online.

Her advice couldnt be simpler: shag. Do it even if you dont want to, do it especially if you dont want to and, most important of all, do it frequently whether you want to or not. To make it even clearer, shes borrowed one of the most famous advertising slogans of recent times: Just Do It. Your partner will be grateful, happier and therefore nicer, too, she explains from her clinic in Colorado. Its a win-win situation for both of you!

Weiner-Daviss self-confessed zealotry for marriage has its roots in the moment her mother blew her teenage world apart by announcing that her seemingly perfect marriage had been a sham for its 23-year duration. She was 16 at the time, and says she wasnt the only one who didnt recover from the bombshell: her mother never remarried and her two sons rarely speak to her.

The experience, says Weiner-Davis who states that her greatest achievement is her own 40-year marriage was transformative. She became a staunch believer in the fact that most divorces can be prevented; that the relief of a post-divorce life is temporary but the pain of divorce is permanent; and that if couples put enough work into staying together, they can fall back in love and live happily ever after.

Over the years, Weiner-Davis has honed her message. Shes now stripped it back to what she believes is the essence of a successful marriage. Gone is any therapeutic consideration of a couples history; of their emotional travails; of cause and consequence. Now she is entirely one-track minded: no matter how appalling the state of a marriage, she believes that kind, generous and frequent sex can bring it back from the teetering edge of collapse.

Her realisation was hard-won. For decades, I was in the trenches with warring couples, she says. But there were times when I was not too effective. I realised that there was a pattern to the times Id failed. There was always one spouse desperately hoping for more touch and because that was not happening, they were not investing themselves in the relationship in other ways.

Weiner-Davis stopped focussing on the couples difficulties from an emotional angle and addressed them exclusively as sexual problems. that when the so-called low-desire partner who is, she is at pains to emphasise, just as likely to be a man or a woman was encouraged to have sex they didnt particularly want, not only did they end up enjoying themselves but the high-desire partner became a much nicer person to be around.

I heard the same story from my clients so often that I did some research, she said, and found several different sex researchers who confirmed what I was finding: that for millions of people, they have to be physically stimulated before they feel desire.

Armed with this new theory, Weiner-Davis began encouraging her low-desire clients to be receptive to the sexual advances of their high-desire spouse, even if they werent feeling up for it. I found that unless there was something a lot more complicated going on, she insists, there were usually substantial relationship benefits to making love with your high-desire partner.

She rejects any suggestion that shes advocating a sexually subservient, anti-feminist, lie back and think of England approach. In fact, she says this is the embodiment of female empowerment.

Its not just telling women to spread their legs, she insists. This is not just about sex. For a high-desire spouse, sex isnt usually about the orgasm: its about someone wanting to feel that their partner desires and wants them. Im hoping that women will feel empowered that they are getting their own needs met through understanding their partner.

No still means no, she says. But it helps to not just say no. Instead, explain why you dont want to make love, suggest a later date and ask whether theres something you can do for your spouse right now instead. But heres the deal, she adds: There had better be a whole more Yess or Laters than Nos because if the Nos win, it leads to the problems I have been talking about.

Weiner-Davis points out that while its commonly accepted that couples should make all their important family decisions together, when it comes to sex, who ever has the lower sex drive makes a unilateral choice for them both. And, just to rub salt in the wound, she adds, the disenfranchised, high-desire one is expected to stay monogamous. No wonder, she says, they get cross.

I mention Weiner-Daviss theory to some female friends of mine. The overriding response is: Oh God, not another thing for my To Do list! Weiner-Davis is quick to condemn this response. Imagine if, when a woman said she wanted to have more intimate conversations or a date night, her husband said: Its just one more thing on my To Do list! For a high-desire spouse who experiences love through touch instead of quality time, its exactly the same impact. Ive had grown men crying in my office, crying about the sense of rejection they feel from their low-desire wives.

I then regale her with the experience of a friend whose husband had started his own business which quickly went catastrophically wrong. The family finances were in peril and he couldnt cope. His wife stepped in. Alongside her own job and while juggling the childcare, she worked late into the night for weeks to stabilise their security. During this time, she was scrupulous in not blaming her husband, either explicitly or implicitly.

With crisis narrowly averted, the stressed and sleep-deprived wife realised her husband was being snippy and sulky. When she asked what was wrong, he exclaimed: We havent had sex for weeks! Surely, I ask Weiner-Davis, this shows that not all demands for sex should be met with her Just Do It ethos.

Not at all, she says. This woman knew his ego needed to be protected and tried to do that by not blaming him for his mistakes. But it sounds like the bigger statement for him was: Am I still a man and do you still desire me?

But its the selfish, uncontrolled behaviour of a spoilt child, I insist. Weiner-Davis doesnt disagree. Women often say that they feel they have three children instead of two children and a husband, she admits. But the fact that this husband was telling his wife what he was feeling sad about is a really good sign: some people throw in the towel.

Is the deal explicit, I ask, does the low-desire one say: OK, well make love more often, but then you have to turn your iPhone off every once in a while so we can actually talk?

Yes and no, Weiner-Davis says. This isnt about keeping score. Relationships are not 50:50. Theyre 100:100. We have to take responsibility for doing everything that it takes to put the relationship on track even if youre not getting the response you want initially. Thats really hard.

Its about asking yourself, she says, when he or she speaks and acts badly, whether its because you have not had sex for four weeks. Is their anger actually about feeling hurt and rejected? If it is, the low-desire spouse needs to be more sexy even though they will not want to do this. And the other one needs to ask themselves when the last time the couple spent quality time together.

On the other hand, Weiner-Davis admits there is a limit. Id say that after several weeks, if nothing has changed in terms of reciprocity, then the couple do need to sit down and identify whats missing in their relationship for each of them and what they would like to have.

Michele Weiner-Daviss cure for a sex-starved marriage

If you have a low sex drive try to adopt the Nike philosophy and Just Do It!, even if you feel neutral towards having sex at that moment.

If youre the one with a high sex drive, try to discover the way your partner wants to receive love. Its typically through quality time, words of affirmation, thoughtful, practical acts of caring and material gifts.

If you dont want sex at a particular moment, explain why and suggest another specific time – and ask whether you can do something else physical at that moment for your partner instead.

If you have a higher sex drive than your partner, try to empathise with them and accept they might never want wild or creative sex, but see the increased level of intercourse as a gift showing their love.

Remember theres no daily or weekly minimum to ensure a healthy sex life. As a couple you need to work out together what works for you.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog · 5 years ago

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Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

New Post has been published on https://relationshipguideto.com/must-see/is-sex-the-answer-to-your-relationship-woes/

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Michele Weiner-Davis, the marriage-guidance counsellor, explains why she thinks having sex even if you dont feel like it is the foundation of a happy relationship

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Sex

Inner life

Is sex the answer to your relationship woes?

Michele Weiner-Davis, the marriage-guidance counsellor, explains why she thinks having sex even if you dont feel like it is the foundation of a happy relationship

Amelia Hill

@byameliahill

Sun 21 Jan 2018 01.00EST Last modified on Sun 21 Jan 2018 09.52EST

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Just Do It. Your partner will be grateful, happier and therefore nicer, too, says Michele Weiner-Davis. Illustration: Andrea De Santis/Observer

She rejects any suggestion that shes advocating a sexually subservient, anti-feminist, lie back and think of England approach. In fact, she says this is the embodiment of female empowerment.

Is the deal explicit, I ask, does the low-desire one say: OK, well make love more often, but then you have to turn your iPhone off every once in a while so we can actually talk?

Michele Weiner-Daviss cure for a sex-starved marriage

If you have a low sex drive try to adopt the Nike philosophy and Just Do It!, even if you feel neutral towards having sex at that moment.

If you dont want sex at a particular moment, explain why and suggest another specific time – and ask whether you can do something else physical at that moment for your partner instead.

Remember theres no daily or weekly minimum to ensure a healthy sex life. As a couple you need to work out together what works for you.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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lovenerdywinnerbouquetfan-blog · 6 years ago

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