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drpeppertummy · 1 year ago

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ok this is such a mess & totally all over the place but i dont CARE i aint messin around with it anymore

[hunger, stuffing]

"Hey, Leon!" Shel greeted his friend as he walked through the door, grocery bags in hand.

"Y'know, most people knock when they enter somebody's house," said Leon, smiling up at him from the couch.

"Knock knock, baby! I'm makin' you dinner tonight," said Shel, heading straight for the kitchen.

"Oh, for Christ's sakes, Shelly, you do not have to make me dinner," called Leon.

"Get in here and help, then! And leave the bottle!"

Leon sighed and pushed himself off the couch, leaving his beer on the coffee table. As he stood, he suddenly became aware of how awful he felt. His head ached terribly, and so did his stomach. He tried to remember if he'd eaten lunch earlier and wondered if he'd been too busy to bother. Groaning, he trudged into the kitchen, got himself half a glass of water, and collapsed into a chair, letting his head fall against the table.

"Y'know, I wouldn't have to come over here if you'd ever take care of yourself," said Shel.

"You don't have to take care of me, Shelly," Leon mumbled into the table. He raised his head and downed the water.

"Well, I don't," Shel agreed with a shrug, tossing a pile of freshly rinsed vegetables onto the cutting board. "But I look at you looking like this and I think, well, things could shape up for this guy. You're like those sad dogs they put in the commercials. Y'know, with the song and all."

"Gee, thanks," said Leon, unable to hold back a grin. He pulled himself out of the chair and joined his friend at the counter, propping himself against it on his elbows. Shel smiled and patted him on the back.

"Alright, what're we makin'?"

"How's chicken noodle soup sound?"

"Sounds pretty great," said Leon. His stomach growled in agreement. It was chilly out, and Leon's old house had a way of refusing to keep warm. The idea of a hot bowl of soup was immensely appealing, particularly after a long, busy, dreary day like today.

Shel put Leon to work chopping vegetables while he prepared the chicken, and before long they had a pot simmering on the stove. The kitchen smelled wonderful. As they cleaned up, Leon found himself feeling much better than he had been before Shel arrived. Mentally, at least. He determined that he must have forgotten lunch after all. His head was pounding, and he was so hungry he was beginning to feel sick. He winced as his stomach growled loudly.

"Jeez, Leon, didn't you eat today?"

"I was busy," he confessed, dropping himself into a chair with his arms wrapped around his belly.

"Oh, Leon," Shel groaned. He reached into one of his bags and pulled out a loaf of bread. Opening it, he tore off a hunk and passed it to his friend.

"Thanks," he said, smiling appreciatively up at him. Shel gave him a firm pat on the back and pulled up a chair beside him, knees creaking as he sat. Another whining growl rose up from Leon's stomach, and he took a small bite of the bread. The two sat for a few moments in silence, then Leon looked up.

"You're a good friend, Shelly," he said softly. Shel smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Y'know, I didn't mean what I said. 'I wouldn't have to come over here.' I don't think about it like that," said Shel, gazing off into the distance. "I like coming over here. Y'know, you're my friend. I'd be happy to take care of you. Even if I didn't think you needed it."

"Shit, Shel, I'd take care of you too if I knew how."

"One step at a time," said Shel. "First we teach you how to take care of yourself. Quit drinking, buy a cookbook, all that stuff. Then when my knees give out entirely, and you better learn quick because I give 'em about a year, you can carry me around everywhere so I don't have to blow all my retirement money on a wheelchair, what do you think?" He turned his gaze back to Leon, grinning. Leon laughed.

"Shelly, I'd carry you to the ends of the earth," he said, throwing an arm around his friend. Shel hugged him tightly. Again, they sat quietly together, until the silence was broken once more by Leon's hungry tummy. The bread had helped to ease the queasy ache in his stomach that not eating for so long had caused, but it wasn't nearly enough to stave off the hunger. In fact, it had only helped his appetite.

"Alright, alright," Shel chuckled. With a soft grunt, he stood himself up from his chair to check on the soup. He tasted it and stirred in a final dash of pepper while Leon set the table. Dinner was ready at last, and Shel ladeled them both a good-sized serving. Hearing Leon's stomach growl again, he added a little extra to his friend's bowl.

"Damn, that smells good," remarked Leon as they sat down to eat.

"I'll give you the recipe," said Shel. "It's not so hard. Kind of thing you can make Sunday and then have all week."

"That's smart." The hot soup was a tremendous relief to Leon's empty stomach. It was well-seasoned and loaded with a variety of vegetables. Between those and the chicken and noodles, there was far more solid than liquid, making it a hearty and filling meal. The baguette Shel had brought, fresh from the store and still warm, accompanied it perfectly.

"I used to be good about that kind of thing," said Leon, blowing on another steaming spoonful. "Meal planning and stuff. Back before all that shit happened." Shel nodded understandingly.

"It's hard to come back from," he said.

"Yeah." The two were quiet for a moment as they ate, then Leon looked up again. "I appreciate how much you help me, Shelly. Really."

"Well, you know I know how it is to go through a tough time." Leon nodded.

The two friends chatted as they ate, talking about their lives and their plans and their problems, and Leon was so distracted by the conversation he barely noticed how quickly he was filling up. It wasn't until a lull in the conversation that he realized just how tight his belly felt. Suddenly winded, he placed a hand against his stomach. It was surprisingly bloated. He paused for a moment, then brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a burp.

"You gotta slow down, Leon," said Shel, smiling. Shel had a way of taking his time with just about everything, eating included. Leon, on the other hand, had a habit of eating far too quickly, often swallowing a lot of air in the process. He leaned back in his seat, one hand still resting on his bloated tummy. He felt absolutely stuffed. He still had half a bowl of soup left, though, and he intended to finish it. He brought up another quiet burp, trying to reopen the space in his stomach that had been filled by air. It helped a little, and he picked up his spoon again.

Though he was still full, Leon's appetite had yet to falter. The soup was the best thing he'd eaten in ages. He tried to follow Shel's advice and eat more slowly. It was easier now that he wasn't ravenous; his full belly could only expand so quickly. And expand it did. Apart from untucking his shirt and kicking off his shoes, Leon hadn't bothered to change out of his work clothes, and his belt was tightening noticeably around his tummy. He paused again, reaching down to try and inch the belt lower on his waist, but his hips made it difficult. He'd always hated his pear-shaped figure, particularly after discovering that he was a man, and the belt squeezing him around the middle wasn't making him any happier about it. He gave up on it and kept eating, wishing he'd gotten changed when he had the chance.

Finally, just as his stomach reached its limit, Leon finished his soup. His belly felt tight and stuffed, almost aching, but at the same time, he felt good. The soup had warmed him up from the inside out, and it was the first decent meal he'd had in over a week. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat again, hand on his belly. It bulged out noticeably, but he didn't care. He was full and sleepy and comfortable, although he'd be much more comfortable once he could finally change into his pajamas. His stomach gurgled softly as it worked to digest the big meal.

Eventually, Shel finished his soup as well, and Leon cleared their dishes and began cleaning up. Shel tried to help, but Leon refused, insisting that he relax. Truthfully, the help would have been appreciated--working with his bloated tummy poking out was bringing back memories of pregnancy--but Shel already did so much for him, he didn't want to trouble him any more. It didn't take long, anyway; they'd gotten most of the mess cleaned up while the soup was cooking.

With the kitchen looking slightly more in order than it had before Shel arrived, Leon sat down once again, his soup-filled belly sloshing gently with the change in position. It was dark out now, and rain pattered softly against the windows.

"Gosh, I'm stuffed," he said, yawning. Shel smiled, pleased. Leon's eating habits were awful, and any time Shel got him to eat a decent meal was a victory. The rain began to pick up, and Leon glanced over his shoulder at the window.

"You oughtta stay the night," he said, turning his attention back to Shel. "It's miserable out there."

"I don't wanna intrude on your space."

"Oh, come on, it's the least I can do. Besides, you know you're always welcome here." A gust of wind sent a harsh spray of rain against the window, and they both looked up.

"Oh, alright," Shel agreed. "You're sweet, Leon."

The two stayed up and chatted a while longer, but they were both sleepy, and it wasn't long before they decided to head off to bed. Leon lent Shel a pair of pajamas--they were a little short, but certainly not too tight--and changed into his own. It was an enormous relief to finally get out of his uncomfortable work clothes. The waist of his pants had left an angry red mark around his tummy where the belt had grown too tight during dinner. He was surprised and a little embarrassed at how much his tummy stuck out now that it wasn't being compressed by his outfit, but it was what it was.

They turned off the lights and climbed into Leon's bed--the couch is awful, but I don't mind sharing if you don't, he'd offered--and pulled up the covers. The rain that had deterred Shel from leaving was now a soothing sound, accompanied by their soft breathing and the occasional gurgle from Leon's full belly. Shel yawned and laid an arm over his friend as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him, and Leon didn't complain. He hadn't been held in years, and it had been even longer for Shel. He hesitated for a moment, then turned onto his side, belly sloshing gently as he did, and wrapped his arm around Shel, who hugged him in return. His heart pounded in his chest, but Shel seemed perfectly serene.

Shel placed a hand on Leon's side, taking comfort in the gentle rise and fall of his full tummy. His eyes were closed, and Leon quietly studied his face. He knew from pictures that Shel had been a particularly pretty man when he was younger, and that prettiness had begun to fade with age, but it still came through from time to time. Now, Leon thought, was one of those times. His stomach let out a soft gurgle, and Shel idly rubbed his side. Leon blushed at the sensation, but he didn't mind. He couldn't recall his ex-husband ever having touched him so gently, especially where his soft belly was concerned, and it was nice. He yawned, and with a sleepy sigh, he closed his eyes.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #hunger kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #xleonx #xshelx #this might be the longest one ive done but only by a little

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moreloke · 7 months ago

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csm x skinner, flower shop au, accidental time loop??

you can find other fics under #csm x skinner

Walter is not a big fan of flora. He's also not a big fan of places that smell like grass.

He's awkward and out of place amongst the delicate plants in the apron and work gloves. He's too old to be a flower boy. He's helping a family friend.

...He's very much applied when hauling pots and vases around and counting the cash meticulously.

🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸

Walter looks up - a man steps in, water dripping from his coat, muddy shoe prints everywhere, and puts a cigarette in his mouth. He's just cleaned up after the last customer, the weather was dreadful alright, a bit too wet, but then his shop is not a bus stop.

"No." The man freezes comically, a lighter half way to his face, brows going up.

"No?" He repeats, unused to being denied.

Walter silently points at the no-smoking sign. (He dug it out of a stationery box in the back for no particular reason. He's glad he did.)

"This is a flower shop." Walter points out helpfully at the prolonged silence.

"So it is."

"People buy flowers here."

The man ponders this, as if unfamiliar with the concept. The man is someone Walter could have seen in the endless halls of Hoover building. He hopes not.

"So. Sell me flowers then."

🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸

Man in a suit comes in with a frown and a lit cigarette in his mouth. The man puts it out at his stern look.

"Something simple. For a funeral."

Walter got no idea what's appropriate for a funeral.

"Lilies ok?"

The man nods.

He doesn't ask about colours or arrangement, sensing it's not that type of customer, and ties a simple black ribbon carefully around the bouquet.

"These are not US dollars." Some foreign currency, german maybe?

"You could still take them." The suit man's voice is gruff, from years of lung damage, surely. He frowns at his own hand, then at him and Walter guesses he's not used to being refused. Well, tough luck.

"I couldn't." He says it firmly enough and stands straighter, so they're the same height.

At that the other changes his stance lightly, less of a stand off, more of a size up.

"I'll write a cheque."

Walter shrugs and accepts the paper. He studies it attentively, then, finding no apparent fault, slips it into the drawer.

"Your flowers."

The man grabs them carelessly, too carelessly, but that's not Walters problem anymore.

"Sorry." At the raised eyebrows he adds "for the occasion." He doesn't know why he said that.

The suit throws him a look and leaves without another word.

Walter sighs and turns back to work. He hopes the cheque isn't a fraud.

🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸

"Something for a hospital."

There's nothing well wishing about the man, harsh frown, deep lines, insincire eyes. But then it's not Walter's place to comment on that.

He plucks carnations out of their vases, some fern and lemon leaf, and rolls them into a simple paper bag. They wouldn't smell too strongly and would last arguably well on a bedside table. He doesn't explain any of it, presuming that the other wouldn't care.

This time it's proper american cash but he still makes a point of examining the hundred dollar bill.

"It's genuine, I assure you." He insists, as if offended at the forgery insinuation.

"Hmph," agrees Walter and hurries to count the change.

🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸🌷🛸

A man in a suit rushes in and demands two dozen roses.

"We're closed."

The man winces, yet comes closer to the counter. There's a cigarette in his hand, unlit.

"You're still here, aren't you?" Walter is busy trying to discern the note of threat in his tone when the vague smell of Morley breaks though the grassy wet fragrance of the shop.

His supervisor's office reeked of smoke that day.

"You're doing good work in the field, Agent Skinner. We would hate for your career to... stall due to unsubstantiated claims and lack of concrete evidence."

It was back there. Whatever horror he supposedly never saw. It was still back there.

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir, I understand."

Someone else got the promotion. The thing, whatever it was, still roamed at large. Unchecked. Free. Hungry.

The cigarette man is looking at him expectedly.

"So? My roses."

Well, fuck it.

"Sorry." He breathes out unapologetically and looks straight into the murky blue eyes. "But we're closed for the day."

The man sizes him up. Huffs in an obvious displeasure. Stares at the "no smoking" plaque and lights his damn cig on the way out.

What an asshole.

#csm x skinner #walter skinner #cigarette smoking man #x files #i couldnt just write a normal au could i #no no no way #this is flirting btw #x fic tag

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coltrainbat · 2 years ago

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Ok what about where Andy barber, Jacob and his (Andy)'s wife, reader lived together happily and peacefully. Until one day, lauri who got out jail and visits them.

Our Home

A/N: FINALLY. enjoy. 💕☘️

Life was bliss with you and the boys.

Jacob was getting home schooled, Andy moved to practising law privately and you got to cook them dinner every night when you came from work. With Laurie securely in jail, while worries clouded your mind in the middle of the night, they were also subdued when Andy rolled over, wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

“Ok so this guy walks into a bar…” Andy waved his beer over the cleaned plate in front of him.

It was a regular Wednesday night dinner, the plates of your delicious dinner cleared, warm artificial light filled the room as the boys took turns trying to make you laugh with bad jokes.

“No, you used this one last month, that isn’t fair!” Jacob groaned.

“Hey hey, let me finish!” Andy hushed him.

“Ok so he walks into-“ Interrupted by a knock at the door.

You all froze. No one ever came to the door anymore. Especially not this time at night.

Andy rose from his seat; you grabbed his forearm.

“Wait maybe it’s not a good idea honey.”

“It’s fine.” He kissed your forehead and patted Jacob’s head as he made his way to the front door.

You put your hand on Jacob’s, rubbing it softly “Hey, you’ll be ok, he protects us remember.” He gave you a small smile and nod.

You heard him walk to the door and the shuffling sounds of the door opening.

“No no no don’t do that! Don’t fucking touch me.” Andy’s voice rose and you got up in instinct.

“Yeah Laurie, look I don’t care you’re not allowed to be here it’s a court order.”

“Please don’t let her in here Y/N.” Jacob gave you a pleading whisper.

“Go up to your room, ok honey? We’ll come and see you soon. It’ll be ok.” You pulled his fringe back from his head.

He nodded, holding back tears. Getting up quickly and moving up the stairs.

You came up behind Andy, putting your hand on his lower back.

“Oh, so you’re with her now? That fucking slut?” Laurie spat at your presence.

“Hey! Hey! You don’t get to talk to her like that. You don’t get to come here and disturb the peace. Now if you don’t get off OUR property in the next 2 minutes, I will make sure you go straight back to jail.”

You cowered behind Andy, trying to hide your tears at her hurtful words, you weren’t a homewrecker by any means. Your relationship started as colleagues, you were a shoulder to cry on, with Andy everyday through all the tribulations and trial. He slept on your couch 3 times a week to get away from it all, never once pulling a move. Your relationship started after she went to jail and the divorced was finalised.

Laurie growled, lunging for you, deep rage in her eyes. She didn’t make it far before Andy’s quick reflexes pushed her back with minimal effort, back out the door.

“THAT’S IT I’M CALLING.” He slammed the door, marching to his phone in the kitchen.

“Andy, she’s not worth it… she’s harmless.” You followed him.

“I don’t care! Nobody lays their hands on you in your own home. That’s not fucking ok. She may seem harmless but I’m not going to let her get away with that.”

He picked up his phone, holding it to his ear. Hand on your wrist, pulling you close.

“Hi, I’d like to report an attempted assault… yeah we have cameras.”

Once the police arrived and you filed the report with Andy closely by your side refusing to leave. You both made your way up to Jacob’s room.

Sound asleep in bed, you both decided you’ll talk to him tomorrow, both exhausted and not wanting to wake him.

You crawled up against Andy in bed. His grip on you still tight and tense.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you, you know?”

“I know, she won’t bother us again we’ll get the restraining order.”

“Not just her, anything in life. My top priority will always be keeping you two safe.”

“I know. That’s why you’re the best baby.” You smiled up at him.

He placed a small kiss on your forehead. Pulling your chin up to meet him with his thumb and his pointer, he placed another soft, deep kiss on your lips.

“I love you Y/N.”

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber fic #andy barber angst #andy barber one shot #chris evans characters #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader angst

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its-a-secert01 · 2 years ago

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Not So Noble ~ Elijah (Part 2)

Elijah x Reader

Readers pov

__________________________________________

I grabbed my carry on suitcase and got off the plane as I made my way through the airport I called Elena.

"Hey I just landed where are you?" I asked

"I had to rush in to work, but Damon should be there." I thanked her and continued walking, as I got farther to the exit, I spotted a tall, dark haired man standing with a sign that had my name on it.

Right away I knew it was Damon, he gave his sly smirk as I walked up to him.

"Hey trouble." He said I gave him a little smile, he put the sign down and pulled me in to a hug.

"I'm sorry." He said "out of all of the mikelsons I thought Elijah had more common sense."

"I should be apologizing." I said pulling away from him and wiping a tear that had leaked on to my cheek.

"Bothering you and Elena pulling back in to all this drama "

"Please I kind of miss it, besides with Elena working late I could use some help with the baby." I nodded "Come on let's go get you settled in." He added, He picked up my suitcase for me and walked me to his car.

After a long silence in the car Damon spoke up "So what exactly happened?" He asked.

"I caught him sleeping with Hayley."

"What! Klaus's old she wolf?"

"Yeah"

He shook his head "i could kill her if you want?"

"NO!"

"If you killed Hayley the mother of Klaus mikelson's baby he would kill you, you're not a vampire anymore Damon."

"Yeah well doesn't mean I can't hate that family."

"Yeah well remember I consider them family."

He rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, we made it to the house, Damon helped me with my bags an showed me to the guest room.

I had my own bathroom so I took the time to clean the stain from New Orleans off me, I let the water warm up as I gathered my things.

As I did so my phone started to ring ❤️ Elijah ❤️ popped up on the screen.

I hesitated but ended up putting it back on the night stand and walked in to the bathroom to shower.

After I was done I made my way down stairs to the living room, there I found Damon sitting on the couch with a baby.

"This must be the famous Stefanie Rose." I said looking over his sholder..

"Never thought she be possible." He said looking at her with eyes of wonder.

I smiled I had always hoped that some day Elijah and I would become as lucky as the Salvatore's or Hayley and Klaus, the gift of a child.

I always wanted to be a mother but unfortunately dating a 10th century vampire comes with its down falls.

Even if there was a chance how could I have a child with a man that betrayed my trust.

"So what can I do to help?"

"Just hang out really, I'll make some dinner soon."

"Oh you don't have to make anything for me, I'm not that hungry."

He gave me a 'yeah ok' kind of look but I guess he decided not to argue.

"I actually think I'm going to head to bed early if that's ok."

"Yeah sure." He said I started to turn around but then something hit me

"Hey Damon?" I asked turning to him, "now that you're human and technically alive now, that does mean vampires can't come in with out an invite right?"

"Yeah mine and Elena's name is on the house, we took precautions when we found out we were having Stef."

I nodded

"Don't worry Y/n Elijah or any of them for that matter won't touch you unless you say so."

"Thanks." I said and headed off to my room, I must of tossed and turned what felt like for ever.

All I could keep seeing was Elijah and Hayley together.

Elijah kept calling me leaving voice mails and text messages, he even had Rebekah call and Klaus took it upon himself to leave a lovely (threating) message if I didn't come back and fix his brothers "broken" heart.

I refused to listen to any of them all of the way throw, most females would probably think and give the man they love another chance.

But I've had my heart broken to many times by the same thing and I knew what would happen if I did.

Elijah would always run back to Hayley and even if she pushed him away it wouldn't be forever because she still had strong feelings for him to.

As I laid there trying to quiet the thoughts, I heard a loud bang and Damon starting to scream, I ran out of the room and down the stairs and as I reached the bottom.

I noticed the front door wide open and someone standing on the side walk.

It was the last person I expected here.

____________________________________________

#the originals #elijah mikealson x reader #alwaysandforever #damon salvatore #elijah mikaelson #stefan salvatore #daughter #tvd

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yslkook · 3 years ago

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TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#Jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jeon jungkook x reader #Jeon jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #Jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff

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randomrosewrites · 3 years ago

Text

The aftermath of the tempest

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x GN reader Summary: Many, many years after Kaedehara Kazuha fled from Inazuma, a lot of things have changed, but his past burdens remain. Or, Kazuha has settled into his new life in Liyue, but still desires his home across the ocean. Words: ~2.7K Tags: Fluff, established relationship, Kaz and reader have a kid, gn pronouns for reader, kaz gets emotional at some point, implied beigguang as well

a/n: What's this? Rose is actually writing??!!

Read it on ao3!

The young girl furrows her brows, front teeth catching her lip as she stares at the board. She's in deep concentration, barely paying any mind to the sweets or the apple cider (poured within a much too expensive cup) beside her.

Her opponent, on the other hand, is the opposite, holding a cup of tea within her palms, white steam drifting from the cup the same colour as her hair. A mystical smile on the woman’s face gives nothing away.

The young girl places a hand on a chip. Then hesitates, thinking a moment more before making a move.

The woman sets her cup down, ruby eyes scanning over the board before she lifts a jewelled hand, moving chips across the board in great succession.

"And with that, I believe I win," Ningguang says. "You did very well this time."

The young girl pouts, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"Oh, don't tear up. It's alright," Ningguang produces a handkerchief and holds it out.

The girl takes it gratefully, hiding her face in the cloth. "Uh- huh."

Ningguang exhales. Children are so delicate, like the petals of glaze lilies. "How about you go to the other room? I'll clean up here."

The girl nods, and slides off her chair. "Can I take my juice?"

"Of course, you may. But remember to hold it carefully."

She nods.Holding the cup carefully with two hands, she slides open the silk screen and enters the next room.

Your head turns at the sound, looking up from your spot by the window: perched upon a lounge chair, feet up. You smile and gesture for the girl to sit beside you. She sets her cup down and crawls next to you, burying her face in your chest.

"How did your game go, Haruko?" You ask, combing her hair free of tangles.

Haruko shakes her head and a sniffle escapes her. "I lost."

You hum sympathetically, “I'm sorry. There's always next time. You and Lady Ningguang were playing for a really long time! Good job."

Harukao's grip loosens a smidge. "Thank you."

The screen door slides open again and Ningguang steps through. The material of her gold dress drags behind her as she walks, the movement smooth as water. She has a familiar treat nestled in the palm of her hands, a famous Liyue sweet candy.

You nudge Harkuo gently. She lifts her head, crimson eyes widening when she sees the candy. She scrambles out of your lap.

Seeing them side by side, Haruko looks more like Ningguang’s daughter than yours. Their eye colour and hair are almost identical. But Ningguang has high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, whereas Haruko has round, filled in cheeks, like her father.

"For you," Ningguang offers it to Haruko. "As thanks for an excellent game of checkers."

Haruko takes the candy with an excited beam on her face. "Thank you, Aunt Ningguang!"

“You are most welcome.”

With the candy, Haruko’s sadness about losing the match is all but forgotten. She rummages through one of the cabinets by the wall, pulling out a colouring book (A collection of cartoon-like Rex Lapis drawings in his dragon form) and the crayons that are specifically kept there.

Many years had passed since the first golden house went crashing into the ocean after the battle with the Ancient God Osial. But the loss only pushed Ningguang to rebuild the new one, bigger, more elegant, and efficient than the last.

Currently, it was parked atop Mount Tianheng, overlooking the harbour. It was fancy, the walls a rich cream and the floors polished dark brown. Some things had to be kid-proofed (especially when Haruko was younger and Beidou insisted on bringing her to visit.) But now, she’s old enough, and familiar enough with the building, that you’re not worried. Not even by the koi pond that circles the living room.

Ningguang plants herself across from you on the couch as Haruko begins to colour in Rex Lapis’ tail. “She’s growing bigger and bigger every day.”

You nod in agreement. “I swear, she’ll be taller than her father soon enough.”

Ningguang laughs. “Sooner or later.”

Haruko’s finished two drawings and is on the third when you look outside the window to the Port of Liyue harbour, glimmering with the midday sun. The familiar outline of the Alcor’s sail and ship dots the horizon. You stand up.

"Are you finished with your juice, Haruko? We're going to get ready soon."

She perks up. "Is dad here?"

You smile at her. "Yes. Almost. You want to be the first to greet him, don't you?"

She nods adamantly, hurrying to put away her things in their proper places.

"There are some ingredients in the kitchen if you'd like to prepare a lunch before you depart," Ningguang suggests.

“Thank you,” you say to her, before turning to your daughter. “What would you like to make?”

She thinks for a moment. “What do you think dad would like?”

“Hm. Anything that isn’t fish,” you make your way to the kitchen, Haruko following closely behind. “After a month at sea, I think he’s sick of fish.”

---

Lunch made and packaged, you and Haruko begin the long walk down to the Port. Steps of green plaustrite appear as you walk. They used to frighten Haruko terribly. Now, though, she loves the way they appear under her feet and disappear when she steps off.

“Watch your steps,” you remind her. Though you trust Ningguang’s architects, you want her to be careful.

“Uh-huh,” Haruko says, half-listening. She’s always distractible on these types of days.

Kazuha isn’t a frequent member onboard the Alcor anymore, but occasionally Beidou will plead with him to accompany her. She says his anemo vision makes cutting through enemies so much easier.

Kazuha will go on month-long voyages with the Crux, maybe two months if he feels like it, but refuses anything more. He doesn’t want to spend time away from you or your daughter.

By the time you arrive at the docks, you’re sweating and the Alcor is pulling into the harbour. Haruko hops up on a dock anchor, waving to the ship.

“Hi!”

A deafening honk sounds from the ship, making Haruko laugh. Then again. Then once more. Honk honk honk honk-

Jeez, Ningguang can probably hear the boat from Mount Tianheng.

Haruko stands back just enough so that the sailors can tie the boat off and lower the gangplank, then she’s rushing onboard the ship. A woman hops down from the wheel, holding out her arms as Haruko leaps into them.

“Auntie Beidou!”

“Hiya Haru!” Beidou grins, swinging your daughter around in a bear hug, long brown hair flying everywhere. “How have you been? Jeez, you’re getting tall!”

“Good! Aunt Ningguang said she misses you.”

Beidou’s grin widens. “Has she, now?”

“Beidou,” you greet sweetly. (Walking on board with much more restraint.) “It’s good to see you’re well.”

Her eye softens. Haruko slowly slides out of her arms. “The same to you. I thought you guys were coming to meet us tomorrow?”

Your house, the one you and Kazuha have, is right on the border between Mondstadt and Liyue. It’s far from the port but it’s quiet, nestled by the beaches of Yaoguang Shoal.

“Well, Ningguang offered us to stay last night, so we did. Haruko wanted to see her dad as soon as possible.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, good to see you again.” Beidou turns to Haruko, mischievous smile on her face. “Your dad’s gonna be thrilled, watch this.”

She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Kaz!”

High up on the mast, a tuft of white hair pops out from the crow’s nest. You smile and give a wave. The tuft disappears, and quick as the wind, the man reappears, hastily scaling down the mast.

He jumps the rest of the way and rolls to his feet, brushing white hair from his eyes, and is promptly tackled by Haruko, nearly losing his balance.

“Daddy!” she squeals.

“Haruko,” Kazuha grins, hoisting her up to rest against his side. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

“Good, dad. How was your trip? What did you do? Did you see any scary monsters?”

“Scary monsters, hm, I may have encountered a few.”

“You gotta tell me over lunch – can we eat it in the bird's nest? We made lunch for you!”

“Crow’s nest,” Kazuha corrects gently. “And really? Wow. Did you help make it?”

“Uh-huh! But I’m not telling you what it is; it’s a surprise! You’ll have to open it like a present.”

“That sounds lovely, Haruko. Thank you.”

You walk up to them and press a kiss to Kazuha’s cheek. “Hi, Kaz.”

“Hello, love,” Kazuha purrs, leaning into your touch. “You look stunning.”

Beidou guaffs, Haruko’s nose wrinkles. “Ew.”

(She used to scream at Kazuha to stop whenever he’d recite sappy love poems to you, covering his mouth with both hands so he’d stop talking. It always made you laugh.)

You pull away from Kazuha and save your daughter and Beidou from your ‘gross’ affections. “The journey to Inazuma ok?”

His eyes briefly harden. He smiles tightly. “It was alright.”

There’s a hidden we’ll talk about this later in his voice, unnoticed by Haruko. She wriggles and Kazuha sets her down.

“Can we climb the mast now?”

Kazuha takes her hand, “Ask the captain.”

“Auntie – Captian Beidou, can we climb the mast please?”

Beidou ruffles her head. “Of course you can, kid. Keep an eye out for me on there, yeah?” Then to Kazuha. “I gotta run some errands on land. If I’m not back by the time you’re gone, thanks for everything.”

Kazuha raises a brow. “Might those ‘errands’ have anything to do with that golden brocade you bought?”

Beidou just waves and grins, trotting off the gangplank and jogging towards the Jade Chamber.

---

The crow’s nest is really only meant for one person standing up, much less three adults and one child, but you make it work. Haruko is obviously given the best seat, you’re squashed beside her, and Kazuha balances on the edge of the nest, legs dangling over the air.

“Why can’t I do that?” Haruko asks as you unpack lunch.

“Because it’s dangerous. Your dad’s very experienced and can catch himself if he falls.”

You’ve seen it happen many times before. Kazuha losing his footing or grip, that split second when he fell and your heart stopped. Then the gust of air that followed, propelling himself back up to safety.

“Once you’re bigger, you can do this,” Kazuha says.

Haruko huffs. “You always say that…”

He chuckles and pats her head. “We just want you safe, is all.”

You pass out bowls and chopsticks around. Kazuha helps affix a chopstick holder to Haruko’s (she’s getting better, but it’s still a challenge to her.) Haruko insists Kazuha close his eyes as you pour out lunch.

“Ok, you can open them!” she says once things are all set.

Kazuha opens his eyes. A steaming bowl of Jueyun Guoba rests in his hands. Juicy cuts of ham, crisp Jueyun chilis, and the rich aroma enough to make your mouth water.

“Ta-dah! What do you think?”

“Oh, Haruko, it looks divine. You made this?”

“Yep! Hurry and taste it!”

Kazuha takes a bite, closing his eyes. “Delicious. So tasty. Captain Beidou should hire you as a chef, or better yet, wanmin restaurant should hire you.”

Haruko grins ear to ear, “Hehe, thank you.”

As you all eat, Kazuha tells you all about the adventures from his trips. How he saw the most beautiful of flowers, or how he fought a translucent glowing eel, Captian Beidou cooked it up and ate it, how she was sick for three straight days afterwards.

Haruko listens to him intently, staring at Kazuha with such a light in her eyes that makes your stomach flutter with pride.

You snuggle closer to Haruko, wrapping an arm around her. The three of you like actual crows, tucked high away, safe from the clutches of the outside world.

---

Haruko wears Kazuha out that day.

She seems to want to do everything Kazuha missed for the past month in a single day. You told her she needn’t rush – Kazuha wasn’t going away any time soon - but that didn’t deter her in the slightest.

You soak your feet in the icy ocean and search for seashells in the sand. You catch crystal flies in the old ruins, delighting in the way Haruko’s face lights up when the yellow wings fade, leaving just the core. You scale one of the many stone cliffs just to enjoy the view as Kazuha plays a tune from a passing leaf.

On your way home, you get some mora meat from a vendor and share the remaining candies from Ningguang as the sun dips below the horizon. When Haruko’s eyes begin to droop, Kazuha carries her on his back the rest of the way home.

Kazuha brushes the hair from her face, kissing her forehead delicately. “Good night, my starlight. May your dreams be as sweet as shooting stars.”

“Poetic,” you murmur, barely containing a laugh.

Kazuha’s eyes gleam as the two of you tuck the covers tight around Haruko, kiss her once more for good measure, then gently close the door on her bedroom.

Finally, alone, Kazuha wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head against your shoulder and sighing.

“Tired, pretty boy?” you ask, a lilt of mirth in your voice.

Kazuha hums in agreement, releasing you to intertwine your fingers. He gazes at you, eyes-half lidded, and presses a smattering of kisses to your hand.

“Shall we go on a walk?”

You glance at Haruko’s bedroom.

“Don’t worry,” Kazuha reassures you. “The wind will watch over her.”

You’re tired, but you’ve also missed Kazuha enough to fight off your slumber. You both wrap up, then make the walk down to the sandy pools of Yougung. The full moon is high in the sky, the breeze cool against your skin.

“Things are still bad over in Inazuma,” Kazuha begins, softly. The wind almost carries his voice away. “It’s gotten better. The vision hunt decree is struck down. Some visions have been returned to the people, but things are still very tense over there…It’s not a place where I want to bring our daughter…”

You squeeze his fingers tightly. It’s felt like ages since you first met Kazuha, when he was just a spry young man onboard the crux. His hair was shorter, he still wore bandages over his arm to hide his injuries from escaping Inazuma.

Now, he lets his hair loose. He wears more Liyue-style clothing. His right hand – the one in your grasp, has healed. Though the physical pain has left, the scars remain.

“I miss my homeland,” Kazuha croaks. “I love what I have with you – I love our home. But a part of me feels forever trapped in Inazuma. Longing for it. I-” He shakes his head, speckles of crystal tears forming in his eyes. Your heart aches at the sight.

“It’s alright, Kazuha,” you wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back. “I can’t begin to understand what that feels like…but I can be here to help you.”

“I just fear-“ he chokes, gripping your shirt. “I fear I’ll never be able to see it again. I’ll never get to bring Haruko to see the cherry blossoms that bloom in spring, or let her feed the cats that roam the islands like wanderers.”

Though you want to, though every part of you wants to assure him he’ll see it, you can’t promise him that. He knows it as well.

You comb your fingers through his hair as his tears stain your shirt. “If that’s the case - If things never get better in our lifetime - then we will make the most of it. Nothing lasts forever. Inazuma will one day change.”

You pull his head from your shoulder to meet his eyes. They’re red and puffy. You rub your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away tear tracks.

“But no matter what, we’ll see it through together.”

Kazuha covers your hand with his, leaning into your touch. “Thank you, love. I am forever grateful that I get to spend my life with you.”

You rest your forehead against his, pressing forward just enough so your lips touch.

“Forever,” you murmur. “And then beyond where the wind lies.”

#genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #idk how to tag things #genshin impact x reader #kazuha imagines #kazuha scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #my writing

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elias-code · 3 years ago

Text

That's My Job - Glatt x gn!reader

~ Ask Link ~

Characters: Glatt x gn!reader, Fundy, mentioning Quackity

Summary: You haven't been back to Manburg since Schlatt died. Now that Techno's destroyed every trace of it, you've returned with Fundy to drink and mourn. Fundy leaves you to your devices and Glatt ends up waking you up, taking care of you, and confessing...

Warnings: lots of cursing, heavy drinking, death, mourning

------ sorry it's so angsty lmao I just love torturing myself :) ------

Ever since Schlatt suffered his massive heart attack at the end of his presidential term, you’ve been wandering the SMP. You’d gotten close to him during his campaign trail, eventually helping him do paperwork, or rather, you did it all for him. You hadn’t been back to Manburg since his death, but now that it was gone, completely gone, you decided it was time to return.

It was a crater. Nothing was left. The office building was gone, the festival grounds were gone, and even the presidential podium was gone. Now, glass covered the crater, giving you the full view of what you had been most afraid of. It made you sick to look at it, bringing up memories from the election.

The worst part of it was that he was gone. Everything in Manburg that reminded you of him was gone, even his friends were gone. The group split shortly after he died, giving up on the decimated country. He was the only thing keeping them together. For better or for worse.

“Hey, Fundy,” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets. He'd offered to come with you, knowing just how hard it was to be back there.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again," He carried a bottle in his hand and offered it to you. He'd already popped it open and taken a sip of it. "It's a bit strong, but you might need it."

"Thanks," You took it readily, not bothering to read the label before you took a swig. The liquid hit your tongue and burned as it went down. You coughed, spitting the remaining drink on the ground, "What the hell is this stuff?!"

Fundy was practically on the ground laughing. Your tongue and throat still burned from the alcohol and you rotated the bottle to read the label.

Fundy™ Vodka, (98% alcohol)

"Are you trying to kill me Fundy? This shit is ninety-eight percent alcohol?! How did you manage that?" he continued laughing at you as your face burned from embarrassment.

"It's a trade secret," he chuckled, "The people in Las Nevadas really love it," he shrugged.

"How are they all not dead?"

"Don't ask me," He said, "I'm just their dealer. Quackity buys in bulk."

For a moment, it was as if Schlatt never died. You laughed with Fundy for a bit, drank, and reminisced. It was like old times, the hay day, but every time you looked around, you were painfully reminded of the past.

"Hey, I wanted to show you something." Fundy stood, offering you a hand. You were both buzzed already. Each sip of the vodka went down like two shots and you'd gotten a decent way down the bottle by now.

"I'm happy to stay anywhere other than here," You took his hand and gestured around at the crater, "This place sucks." You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed Fundy off the path.

You looked down as you walked. You didn't want to be reminded of him any more than you had to. The people here were moving on from it all already. To be fair, it had been a while, but you'd been closer to him than anyone else, even closer than Quackity.

"Here," He stopped and pointed at the clump stones in front of him. He sat down on the bench as he had done many times before, letting you inspect your surroundings.

"What is this?"

"It's a shrine thing I made," He said sadly, "A long time ago. I haven't been here in a long time, so I refreshed the flowers a bit for you."

The cobblestones were unmarked, put in a rough pile surrounded by oxeye daisies and dandelions. To any passer-by, it was just a pile of rocks. To you and Fundy, it was Schlatt's grave.

Of course, he wasn't buried there. He'd been buried in a nice grave surrounded by gold and diamonds, but it had been griefed so many times that it wasn't worth visiting anymore. Instead of being reminded of him, you were reminded of how many people hated him. Here, it was much quieter.

"Thoughts?" Fundy asked, passing you the bottle as you sat with him.

"It's not bad," You took a swig, used to the taste by now, "I can't help but think that it's painfully accurate that we're getting drunk at his grave."

Fundy laughed briefly, eventually letting the blanket of silence fall over you. The lump in your throat rose once more and you swallowed it with another sip. This must be what he felt like at the end. Drinking to forget, shoving his problems down as far as he could with each drink until, one day, his heart couldn't take it anymore.

"You ok?" Fundy asked, concerned.

"Huh? Yeah," You stared blankly at the stone pile, "Just thinking."

"You're crying," He said.

You touched your cheek and found it wet with tears. You hadn't cried since the day he died, the day you left.

"Do you..." He sighed, "Want some time alone?"

You hesitated. "Yeah," you croaked, "as long as I get to keep the alcohol,"

"Just don't drink it all," He touched your head and walked off.

"Hey. Hey. Get up," You felt a finger poke your temple and you jerked awake to Schlatt's voice.

"Finally," He sighed, "What do you think you're doing on my property?"

Through your hazy vision, you saw him.

"Schlatt?" You reached your hand out towards him, but you felt nothing.

"Yeah, yeah," He moved out of your reach, "Hands off, kid."

You rubbed your eyes and squinted, there's no fuckin' way...

"What the hell?" You spat, "Is this a fever dream or some shit?"

In front of you was Schlatt, or a paler blue version of him. He was holding the bottle of vodka, reading the label.

"Oh so Fundy's got a damn business now, does he?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," You ignored him, "Schlatt?! You're alive??"

"Calm down," He rolled his eyes at you, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"

He tossed the bottle back to you but you fumbled it and it shattered on the ground.

"Shit!" The bottle broke into sharp, jagged pieces. No vodka came out of the bottle, it was empty.

"You're still a terrible catch, good to know," He sat beside you, walking through the glass. You realised with a start, He's translucent...

You woke up fully, putting your hands on your face and shaking your head. Your brain rattled around in your skull, giving you a painful migraine. The bottle was empty... how much did I drink? Your memory from the past few hours was more or less blank, only the occasional flash of sunset or Fundy was left.

"You're drunk as fuck, you know that?" He said, sitting judgingly.

"What?" I must be if he's here, "Are you even real?"

"Yeah," He sounded offended, "Look at me! What do you mean am I real?"

You laughed, now convinced you were out of your mind. "How was I supposed to know?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, evaluating your mental state. "That stuff will kill you." He said, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, and you'd know all about that, Schlatt," You spat, "As if I hadn't warned you a thousand times,"

He leaned back, "Says the person who left the country the moment I died,"

This sent you over the edge and you started sobbing. You put your hands to your face, practically screaming into them. You refused to deal with these emotions for so long, and in some cruel twist of fate, you'd become the thing you hated the most. You'd done the thing you warned Schlatt about countless times. It finally came back to bite you in the ass.

"Sorry, I-" He started, putting his hand on your back. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't the best at comfort, "I've missed you,"

Your sobbing calmed down slightly, downgrading to crying. The tears stung your eyes and your throat burned, partly from the drink, partly from the stress you were releasing.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," He said, standing to lead you down the path. You followed, stumbling slightly as the drink caught up to your balance. Just before you fell, he caught you and slung your arm around his shoulder, practically carrying you.

"Man, I was hoping you'd be in better shape the first time I saw you."

"What do you mean?" You mumbled, leaning on him heavily.

"I mean I haven't seen you in so long," He bit his lip, "I was starting to think you'd never come back. Then I saw you with Fundy, drunk as a skunk, sleeping on my bench. Not what I'd say was a good first impression. In such a long time, I mean."

"Yeah, but you're... dead."

"So? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you died. You had a fucking heart attack, alright? We mourned for you, I mourned for you. I ran away because I couldn't bear to look at them. Those people who said they were your friends. They took different sides. They gave up on you. In a way, I guess I did too, just because I had to."

He grits his teeth but kept walking. "I was just as disappointed in them as you, kid."

You'd reached the end of the path. He looked around quickly and opened the door. You recognized it as Fundy's house. It was vacant, Fundy was nowhere in sight. Schlatt laid you down on his bed, leaving to get a washcloth and a glass of water.

"Sit up," He said, pushing the glass into your hand.

You grabbed it readily and took a swig, dehydrated from the tears you'd shed. As you drank, he put the damp washcloth to your forehead and neck, trying his best to sober you up a bit.

"You're on fire." He said, frowning at you. "Your face is all red. How much of that stuff did you drink?"

"The whole bottle," You muttered.

"And you're still alive?" He laughed.

"I'd ask Quackity the same thing,"

"What does this have to do with Quackity?"

"Fundy's selling it to Las Nevadas, I guess." You shrugged and he haphazardly dropped the washcloth in Fundy's cauldron.

"What?"

"Las Nevadas," You laid back down, "Quackity has a city now. Leaned into the whole gambling thing."

"Jesus, I missed a lot, haven't I?" He laid next to you, the sheets didn't move.

"I guess so." You turned to look at him. His suit was torn like he hadn't changed it since the day he died. His beard was barely shaped, his hair a mess, and his horns were as sharp as ever. He was exactly the same as he looked that day. Dishevelled and broken down.

"I mean it, I missed you." He said, "It's not like I had any paperwork to watch you do, but I wish I had."

"You watched me do that?"

"Yeah, I had to make sure you weren't stealing it or something," He excused.

You chuckled, "You never kept track of that shit, there was no way you would have known."

"Alright fine, you want me to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"You make this... face when you work. When you're really focusing on something... It's hard to look away."

Your heart skipped. The ghost of Schlatt confessed to having a crush on you? No one would believe this, especially since you barely believed it yourself. You burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

"What?!" He snapped.

You kept laughing as your head throbbed, the headache coming out in full force now, "You had a crush on me?"

He scowled, "No." He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground, "I have a crush on you."

Huh? "Even though I've been gone for months?"

"Yeah," He said, "It's not like you forget someone like that."

He sounded sad, distant almost. Like you were the ghost.

"Hey," You shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his leg, "It's super cheesy, but," You sighed, god I sound like a child, "I like you, too."

His face flushed, as much as a dead person's face could flush. "Little old dead Schlatt?"

"Yeah, why not?" You sighed, "It's been so long since I've seen you, but... I mean, why do you think I left?"

"I don't know. I thought about that a lot while you were gone."

"I left because I cared about you. It was too hard to see you in everything around me. I left to get my mind off of you because every waking moment of every goddamn day was spent thinking about you," He looked at you, poorly holding his poker face, "I only came back because everything was gone. There was nothing to come back to. Or so I thought."

"Yeah, Technoblade did that." He jeered, "Twice."

"This isn't about him," You put your head on his shoulder, "If I'd have known you were still here... I would have stayed."

"To be fair, I was stuck in... hell... for a while until I finally figured out how to get back up here," He said, "By the time I'd come back... You were long gone. Months had passed."

"It was selfish for me to leave. I'm sorry."

"No, it was shitty of me to be mad you didn't stay. You told me so many times to put down the damn bottle and yet, you stayed by my side until the end. I let you down."

"I guess we both have things to be sorry for, then." You said.

You sat in silence for a while, coming to terms with what you'd both just said. It wasn't in either of your characters to say anything like this. There were some serious feelings passing back and forth between the two of you, and nothing to prepare you for them.

"Fuck I'm gonna puke," You said.

He pulled back, "Don't do it on me, sicko, Jesus!"

You laughed, "I'm fuckin joking, relax,"

"Just..." He leaned back and grabbed a blanket to swaddle you in it, "No more drinking, no more feelings for tonight. You need to sleep, and I've got all the time in the world to watch over you."

"It sounds creepy when you put it that way," you pouted.

"I'm not gonna-" He rolled his eyes and tucked you in, "Just let me know if you need anything. We don't really need sleep with the 'eternal slumber' bullshit, ya know?"

---

I don't know how to end this lmao, I hope you enjoyyyyyyed :3

#eli drunk glatt #dsmp glatt #glatt #fundy #dsmp x reader #dsmp #dreamsmp #schlatt #jschatt #mcyt #mcyt x reader #elias original #schlatt x reader #glatt x reader

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footballffbarbiex · 3 years ago

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Just As Grey With You.

Manager: Marco Rose Words: 1,100 (so much for short blurb. whoops) Request: It is his birthday and he is worried and doesn’t want any celebration or something because his birthday reminds him the age difference and as he getting older he thinks you won’t like to be with him anymore. Angsty start with fluffy end _

Try as Marco might, he cannot summon the energy to try to pretend to be happy about this upcoming birthday. It hadn’t usually been an issue; he’d look forward to spending it with his family and friends and welcome in a new chapter of his life but this year, for some reason, he wasn’t as excited this time around. Deep down he knew the reason, but admitting it out loud wasn‘t something he was prepared to do as of yet. Even if the reason was right in front of him.

“So, for your birthday,” you say, hands deep in the soapy water in the sink and your back firmly to him. One hand places the clean item into the drying rack while the other hand reaches for a dirty one to put into the bowl.

“The one that comes around once a year?”

“The very same,” you continue, unphased by his remarks and restack one of the plates that wasn’t sitting right. “I was thinking, maybe we have a meal and then ho-”

“I don’t really know if I want to do anything for my birthday.” He confesses, pushing the remainder of the dessert around his bowl.

“You've always done something for your birthday,” you counter, keeping your back to him as you pull in the last plate and a couple of cups and begin to wash them. “what’s the difference this year?”

“Just don’t feel it,” he mutters, finally setting down his cutlery and gathers everything up before making his way over to you and slipping them beneath the water. The glimpse you catch of him is not one of happiness and though you don’t understand it, you don’t press just yet. He takes his place beside you, tea towel in hand and begins to dry and stack beside the drainer.

“So, what would you like to do?” You try again, this time a different angle.

“I’m ok with nothing.”

“We can’t not celebrate.” You try a light-hearted laugh, but it comes out strained and false.

“Eh, don’t stress it.” He gives a little shrug as he continues to dry, refusing to look at you as he pretends to be focused on the task at hand. Pretending that he can’t see you stare at him with your mouth slightly open in surprise.

“You’re being serious, aren’t you?” The rhetorical question hangs between the two of you as you wipe off the suds from your hands and swipe another towel to dry them. “Why? Don’t-” you hold up your finger as you glare at him, “give me that bullshit that you’re not bothered. I’ve seen the pictures from previous years. You love celebrating it. What’s different this year?” you ask before realisation sinks in that the only thing different about his personal life is you.

He knows you’ve pieced it together by the look on your face, an expression that echoes the sinking feeling of your heart. The hurt burns throughout you, clenching at your heart and holding it in a vice like grip as possibilities of what that means floods your mind. “It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking.”

“So why don’t you tell me because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel too good right now.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“And so, you’ve said everything.” Your words come out as a bite, the wince that he makes shows it landed perfectly.

“I don’t want to argue over this. I just didn’t want to celebrate, it’s not a bad thing.”

“But I’m asking you why. If it’s not because of me, just say so.”

“I can’t because you’re linked to it.” his words are out in little more than a whisper, and he puts down the towel. “If I tell you something, I need you to listen. Please?” You move your tongue around your quickly drying mouth as dread takes over. You don’t trust yourself to speak so instead, you give a small nod instead. “I know this is going to sound...stupid. But I realise now with each birthday that I’m getting older and I’m conscious of the fact that at some point, that’s going to be even more obvious than it already is.”

“Well so will I. It’s not just you aging here.”

“But you’re not 7 years younger than my mother.” He says and what he’s trying to say begins to sink in.

“But you knew there was an age difference between us. If it was an issue why pursue me?”

“Because I want you. I’m attracted to you. I’m in lust with you. I love you. That hasn’t changed. That won’t change. But how long are you going to look at me and not see someone who is older? How long until that’s an issue?”

“I won’t. And it won’t be an issue.”

“You don’t know that. You want babies and marriage and everything that goes with that, but you might not always want me. What if I’m not the one who can give you that?”

Frowning, you try to work out where this has come from until something one of his friends had said to you comes back. You debate whether or not you should say it as nausea builds, knowing it was said in confidence to you and though you doubt the friend who disclosed this was the only one who knew, you feel bad for considering breaking the confidentiality of it. But if there was ever a moment to do so, this was it. “Marco? Who hurt you?”

Your question throws him off guard. He blinks several times, various expressions all change his features until he settles on confusion. His fingers drum the countertop while the other hand rests at his waist. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m not going to. I know something has happened, I don’t know when, i don’t know who, just that it had taken a long time for you to open back up. I’m not going to hurt you, at least not intentionally and not in that way. I want a future with you. I don’t care that you’re older, in fact I prefer it. You’ve given me more stability in my life, more love and more confidence than any of my exes ever did. You knew what you wanted when it came to me. I’ve never had someone so certain of what they wanted. I just want to love you like you love me. I’m not her, I don’t plan to go anywhere unless you decide otherwise. But I want, if you’ll let me, to grow old and be just as grey as you with you.”

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#marco rose imagine #marco rose one shot #marco rose blurb #marco rose drabble

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queenoftheworldisdead · 4 years ago

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Lane close

Note: Inspired by @sapphirescrolls https://sapphirescrolls.tumblr.com/post/633710107595767808/i-had-an-obnoxious-encounter-whilst-driving-so-ya

Summary: Going home there is always traffic.

Warning: bondage, forced sex, non consent, kidnapping

Dark Thor x reader

It felt like you had been stuck in the car for over an hour. It was so infuriating that one lane could clog up traffic so badly.Throwing your head back on the seat you start to stare aimlessly at the taillights in front of you.

Incoming traffic rushed by, but out going was yet again a drag. You could've sworn the construction workers were just fucking about instead of working. If there were any other options as a home route you would have taken it, but unfortunately there wasn't one.

Since the weather had been unusually fair you decide to roll the windows down.

"Hey Siri, play my rush hour playlist" you call out to your cell.

The robotic voice came alive on your command, changing from the radio to your music. Tapping your finger on the steering wheel in time with the beat you sing to yourself while sitting through this slow torture.

"HEY!" Someone called out. Checking your rear-view you scanned to see if someone behind you was trying to get your attention. From what you saw the driver behind you seemed to be on his phone so maybe you were just hearing things.

"HEY!" Even with the music blaring that voice pierced through.

Scanning all around this time your eyes land on a giant of a man in an orange safety vest and hard hat. One of the road workers was waving his hands in the air trying to signal you. Scrunching your brow you look at him curiously. His bright smile was certainly infectious as he began dancing when your attention was focused on him. He was surprisingly on beat, but the sight of it was so goofy you had to laugh and the more you watched goaded him to do more.

*HONK HONK HONK

"Okay, okay" you say to the car behind you even though they couldn't hear you. Turning your focus back on the road and get in gear. He had distracted you so much that you hadn't noticed traffic move on a bit. Without giving him another glance you drive onward to home.

The construction on the road had been going on for over a month and you truly couldn't tell what they were working on out there. At least it never hindered you going into work. As you passed the closed lane in the morning you would glance over at the abandoned equipment while you wait at the light to change colors again.

When you were in the office your days were filled with meeting after meeting. The first one was just about to start and you were the only one in the conference room. Walking over to the window you watched the construction workers start their day along the outstretched roadway.

"Hey Y/N, you coming to lunch with us tomorrow?" Cathy's voice broke you from your trance at the window.

"What's going on tomorrow?"

"Tiffany is having a going away lunch. It's going to be at Zoe's kitchen since it's just right across the street"

"Ugh I hate that place, but I will go."

Moving from the window you take the seat next to her at the conference table. "Do you take Woodway avenue to go home?" You ask the curly haired accountant as she opens her laptop.

"I used to, but the traffic has been so bad." She answered. "I normally go over to Sam's since it's the other way. By the time I leave there traffic is normally cleared out."

"Oh, wow. How long has this been going on?" You integrate her.

"I had been dropping hints to him for a while, then one late night a few weeks ago"Cathy's mysterious grin spread on her lip.

"Cathy! In the office" you try and lower your voice after the shock. She only shrugs while you shake your head in disapproval. "Any who I was sitting in traffic yesterday and heard someone shouting. I look over to see this road worker shouting at me then he starts dancing like a fool."

"Was he cute though?"

"That’s besides the point"

"So he was cute then...Next time take a picture I wanna see this construction hottie" she jokingly asked as more people started to file into the conference room.

When you got into your car at the end of the day you were happy to leave, but not excited about what lay ahead. Your gas indicator was dangerously low today and you cursed yourself for not filling up your tank last night. You knew it was enough to get home, but the gas at the station a few blocks from here was cheaper than the one by your apartment.

As the dead lock breaks to allow you to drive more than a few inches you signal so that you can get over in time to reach the station.

Pulling in you parked in front of the pump. The tank was on the passenger side so you walked around, popped the cap and grabbed the hose.

The bell on the gas station door chimed behind you. Spilling from the doors a group of road workers presumably on break or grabbing snacks for their journey home. Your head reflexively turned towards the noise then your eyes locked with the golden haired goofball from yesterday. When he saw you his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Hey!" he shouted and waved at you excitedly dancing his dance making you snort. When your hear the click from the hose you turn away. Pulling out the nozzil you put it away and walk to get back into your car. Glancing up you spot him looking back at you, waving goodbye as he and his group walk over to a large red pickup truck. You wave back then startup reluctantly ready to sit through this traffic jam again.

In the rear-view you spot the massive truck he got into. It trailed a few cars behind, but it wasn't hard to miss.

Even after you broke free of the jam it seemed to be heading in the same direction as you. To ease your mind you drive into McDonald just before your turn off point. It was another late night of coming home and cooking for yourself wasn't going to happen.

After you placed your order through the speaker you see his car pull in too.

You are just being paranoid. He is probably hungry. You're overthinking things.

Paying for your food you then leave and speed on toward your street. Peeking at your rear-view you spot his truck again in the far distance.

Calm down. This is a popular road a lot of people take this route.

Shaking off the paranoia as you spot your street sign. Signaling you pull into the turning lane. As you waited at the light you watch as the truck gets closer, but the light turns green before you can see if he gets into the same lane. Turning on your street you breathe a sigh of relief when you saw it kept going straight instead of turning down your road.

The next day lunch came around before you knew it. Leaving your desk you go and grab Cathy. When you do she's shamelessly flirting with her new office bae, Sam.

"You ready to go or..." You ask leaving enough space for innuendo as you poke your head in through Sam's office.

"Yes, yes" Cathy turns to you pouting. "I'll see you tonight" she pecked him on the cheek before heading to the elevator with you.

Exiting the office you two head out toward Zoe's, chatting about the usual office gossip. The bustling sound of the road work buzzed around your office building. The walk to Zoe's would be brief, but noise and the smell of tar had you regretting the choice to go out for lunch.

"Oh my gawd there he is" you point in the direction of the statuesque blonde currently jack hammering the road. In his bright orange vest you could see pools of sweat seep through. His sleeves clung to his toned arms, his muscles flexed as the machine pounded and you wondered what the rest of him looked like underneath.

"Oh damn" Cathy exclaimed practically drooling at the sight of him. You had to nudge her ribs to stop her from staring.

The pedestrian light turned green as you two approached allowing your little group to cross the street. As your pumps hit pavement you heard his distinct call. Cathy turned her head to look before you did. When your eyes landed on him, he did his little dance this time adding in a crotch grab then blowing you a kiss. The shock of the lewd gesture had you both scrunching your faces in disgust before turning away and continuing on. He shouted at you more but you refused to give him anymore attention.

You checked your traffic app to see if there was anyway to avoid Woodway, but all the road lines were colored red. Signaling that they would be just as bad as going around.

Instead of sitting in traffic again you decided to stay in the office later. Spending an hour in the office sounded better than an hour in traffic.

You passed the time shooting off a few emails, scheduling a few client meetings and reading through some paper work you had put off earlier in the day. Checking your watch after all that done you were satisfied that enough time had passed so you pack up to leave.

Pulling out of the parking garage you were relieved that traffic had indeed cleared up. Though it was late you were tired of fast food. With all the road work you found it easier to get drive through than cook. Breaking from routine you head to the grocery store.

Walking down the various aisles while you load up your cart. The smell of fabric softener wafted through the air. The fragrant smell reminding you that you were running low on detergent.

Going down the aisle you find your favorite brand and smell the clean scent of the box.

"Hey!" The familiar voice of the construction worker startled you causing you to drop the box of detergent on the floor. "Oh sorry" his accent caught you off guard as well, he had only ever said one word to you before this point. Walking up closer as you bent to pickup the box.

"It's OK." As you rose to straighten. Your eyes roamed his stature you noticed he held a case of beer in one hand and his cell in the other. From the distance in your car you had thought he was tall, but now as he stood so close you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze.

"I just want to say sorry for the other day...I was trying to do that Michael Jackson dance and well..." He trailed off.

"That's what that was?" You cocked a brow at him. "Michael would probably roll over in his grave if he knew." You playfully kid him. He erupted with such laughter you were slightly embarrassed at the volume.

Clutching the detergent close to your chest you take one step back while he took one step forward. He stopped laughing and just smiled down at you.

"My name's Thor"

"I'm Y/N"

There was a thick silence that fell before you spoke again. "Well, I should go" you move your cart and start to push it away.

"You're checking out right me too" his smile was so infectious, but you couldn’t match his energy.

He followed beside you as you made your way to the checkout line. His presence almost suffocating as he walked quietly next to you.

He waited behind you in line and you thanked your lucky stars there wasn't anything embarrassing in your cart this time around. When the cashier finished you waved him goodbye and walked off as fast as you could, but he caught up to you before you could exit the automatic doors.

In the dim light of the parking lot his pickup truck stuck out like a sore thumb in the distance. Luckily it was on the opposite aisle from yours.

"Sooo news on when that road might be fixed?" You try and break the awkward silence.

"Oh I don't know. I just do the work they don't tell me anything" he answered rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow" you say as you approach your car. Waving goodbye you separate and push your cart to the back of your car. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but you had already started on your jaunt to the trunk.

Loading the car you peer over to see Thor in his truck lit by the light of his cellphone through his windshield. After closing the trunk you hop in the car. Starting the car you ready yourself to back out.

*POP

"What the fuck?" You exclaimed as your car gyrated in a peculiar manner. A worried crinkle rested on your forehead as you contemplated the obvious.

Putting the car back in park you take your phone and get out to examine the tires. The front driver side was fine, but when you walked to the rear the back was tattered and flat. Bending down you look for what could have caused such damage.

"You okay?” Thor boomed from behind you. His branch of an arm resting on his open window as he watches you bent over examining the flattened wheel. His truck now parked beside yours.

"Yeah, just a flat." You reassured him. You unlock your phone and lookup triple A while Thor hops out of his truck. "I have someone coming it's fine Thor" you try and wave him off, but he doesn't leave. Thor's arm wraps around your waist pulling you flush to his chest. Your phone drops from the surprise embrace. "What the hell are you doing?" You shout at him while digging your nails into his arm as you try and pry free.

He didn't answer you and the more you struggled the tighter his hold seemed to be as he inched closer to his vehicle. Thor opened the back door of his truck with one hand as you fought to get out of his other. Your feet lifted from the ground as he brought you up and tossed you in. When your back hit the leather of the seat you rise on your elbow and scurry backwards until your back hit the opposite window. Turning to open that door Thor yanks your ankle so hard that your entire body lays flat along the cushion again.

You somehow free your ankle and kick over a tool box behind the passenger seat in the process. The contents spilling in and out of the truck. The next kick landed in the center of his chest, but he catches it right before its impact.

"This isn't funny Thor let me go!" You demand. Thor ignored you and proceeded to pull off your shoe. Once removed he then tosses it over his shoulder.

His eyes stayed laser focused on you while he placed kisses on the top of your foot then trailed them gently down your leg. You try freeing yourself from his clutches again until Thor stopped. You watched on as he opened his mouth wide on your thigh then sinking his teeth into your meaty flesh. You whale loudly from the pain then shoot forward to grab a fist full of hair. Pulling it as hard as you can until his hands encircle your wrist. Pushing them together he holds them with one hand while the other digs through the mess of tools on the floor.

"You know you were always the highlight of my day?"

Your eyes grew wide at the sight of the thick white plastic strips. Twisting and thrashing under him he only scoffs at your attempts. Looping the zip tie around your wrists then around the handle of the back door. The tightness of the restraints only increased as you struggled, your fingers starting to tingle at the loss of circulation.

"Construction was actually supposed to be finished a long time ago, but I made sure to get the project delayed."

Hovering over you once he locked you in place his once infectious smile turned sinister. Lowering himself back down his meaty palm glided up and down your exposed thigh. Pushing your skirt past your waist he starts to pull your panties down as your legs continue to flail. Catching your knees with his hands he forces your knees to bend so that he could comfortably wedge himself in-between.

"You don't have to do this. You don't have to do this" your words were filled with panic and fear. There was nowhere to move as his head lowered down.

"Wait, wait. I have money. Just in my purse" you sob. "Thor your a nice guy please, donnnnnnnnnnn't" your whiny sobs did nothing to stop his assault.

He flung your panties out of the door and stared at your folds before lowering himself further. His hot breath sending shivers up your spine.

He hummed as he flattened his tongue on your folds. Your hips bucked involuntarily when he sunk his tongue inside you.

Dipping it in and out causing a moan to spring from your lips. No matter how hard you begged he did not relent it was as if your protests urged him on. Holding your legs apart you felt his fingers dig into you. The pain of his grasp and the overwhelming sensation of his tongue drove you mad.

"Oh sweetheart you taste so sweet." He said pulling back from your panting form.

Your shirt was still tucked in your skirt so Thor haphazardly pushed it up and out. Moving the fabric halfway up your neck to expose your breast. When he pulled down on your bra a strap broke.

"Sorry about that" Thor chuckled as he took both breast in his hand, pushing them together then began kneading them like dough. He hissed as he played with you as your protest fell on deaf ear.

Moving his head down to your chest Thor rubbed his course beard harshly over your breast. Inhaling each deeply before trailing kisses all around the top. His hands released your breast and you watched on in horror as he tossed his shirt, pushed his pants down his waist along with his boxers.

"No no no" you cry out as Thor pushed up almost level with you. The weight of him almost crushing your chest. His hand clasped your chin and forced your head forward to face him when you tried looking away.

"I am going to make you so happy Sweetheart"

The back door remained open as he pressed the head of his cock into your mound. Feeling the pressure of him pushing into you Thor devoured your lips before you could let out another cry for help.

Thor took his time as he eased into you. His tongue invading your mouth as you felt him stretch you. He smelled of sweat and tar. His hair cascaded over you while his hands roamed your body. Squeezing and pinching on your fatty flesh so hard that your body jerked and jolted.

Thor's speed increased as time went on and you felt your pussy grip and hold him. Betraying you to take pleasure from his forceful violation. His cock plunged deeper and deeper as your cries turned to heavy mewls. He pulled away from your lips with a deep groan.

"That's it Sweetheart" he praised as your cunt gripped his cock repeatedly. "Mmmmmmm Fuck shit!" You came around his cock unwantedly while he continued to praise you for being such a good girl for him.

Your pussy grew wetter as you stayed at the mercy of his control. Thor moved to plant one hand on the window and snuck the other under your ass. When he gripped your cheek hard your back arched and the move allowed him to sink deeper into you. The truck rocked as he fucked harder into you. "Hear how wet you are for me." His cock ravished you, stretching you beyond your limits.

"MMMm shit!" You exclaimed as you came again around his pounding cock. As your cunt squeezed his dick you felt his cock begin to twitch inside of you. Then a warmth overflowed inside your convulsing pussy. Thor's hold would surely leave bruises as he dug into you. As a warmness bloomed in your core he stilled himself and as it leaked out he plopped down on top of you, crushing you under his weight, you felt his seed seep out of you.

After another few minutes he got up and off you. Putting on his discarded shirt and pulling up his pants. He slid out of the back seat closing the door leaving you still bound.

You heard him pop the trunk of your car and the familiar sound of plastic bags. It took a while before he reappeared at the drivers door and got in.

"All right I moved your groceries! Let's go home we both have work tomorrow." He said then started the trucks engine and set off out of the parking lot.

#dark thor x reader #black writer #dark!thor x reader #smut #dark smut #dark!thor x black!reader #dark thor x black reader #Dark!Thor x black reader #Dark Thor x black!reader

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letswrites · 3 years ago

Note

what about feeling homesickness and Calum comforting her?

thaxxx! i changed a bit, hope you like ❤

Home

He was standing in front of her house, it's was a fresh end of the afternoon in LA, with a cool wind and a pink-shaded sunset. He had a cigarette between his fingers in one hand and the other one was resting at his side after he knocked on the door. She opened and locked it with her key "night" he checked his iPhone '5:57 pm' "almost night. And you are gorgeous. As always" "thanks, you are too" she directed her gaze to the cigarette quickly, but not quickly as he dropped it onto the ground and stubbed his foot in it. She hated when he smoked. "thought you were going to quit" "I will" "yeah and I will fly away from this damn city" "what is wrong with LA?" "It isn't home" he knew she missed her hometown, Milwaukee, and he also knew she had duties in LA and she knew that too "babe..." "It's alright" she breathed deeply before look at her boyfriend and smile "thought we were going, huh?" "Yeah, sure, let's go" "let's go" he took her hand in his empty one and they walked to her car. She had a glowing conversible candy apple red 1966 Ford Mustang that Calum was never allowed to drive "why I cannot drive?" "You know why" "oh, come on. It's old shit, honey" "no! Almost kill me isn't 'old shit'" "was an accident and you just broke an ankle" "A leg" she sat on the driver's seat and he watched how good she looked in the sunset "hey!" She snapped her fingers "aren't you coming in?" "fuck! Sorry. it's your fault!" he jumped into the car and put on the seat belt "I will not apologize for you having a terrible sense of beauty" she had low self-esteem sometimes "my sense of beauty is perfect" he leaned closer and cupped her face "just as you" "you are perfect" she smiled and pulled his neck to a passionate kiss. A calm and warm, but passionate kiss "but, seriously babe, let me drive" "no!" she turned on the engine, adjusted the mirror and backed up the car from the driveway without taking her gaze from the mirrors "that's how you back up the car with safety" he groaned, throwing his head back "It happened once! And it was an accident" "I know, just recalling" she winked and made the way for the downtown.

Last year, before they started dating, she asked Calum to back the car out of the driveway, but he did it without looking in the mirrors, according to himself "who the fuck know the right side of pen drives?" and ran over her. Accidently, of course. For luck, she just broke a leg and he took care of her, and due it, they become closer. "You know, there're some bad things that happen for good reasons" "I thought we were done with this subject" he squeezed her right hand "if I haven't given all my attention to the damn pen drive and ran over you, maybe we'd not become closer as we did" "yeah... fine, I will let you drive" she parked the car left the driver's seat "move on, Cal!" he stood up and gave her a deep and quick kiss before sat down in the driver seat and squeeze the beige leather steering wheel "I love you" "love you too, but now I'm fucking dying to know where we're going" "you were driving and I have to know?!" "yes, Mr. driver" she teased, he giggled "fine. Know a place" "good".

They were on a road that she didn't recognize "Calum" "my name" he loved when she said his name "where are we going?" "It's a surprise" "oh no. Please, don't do this to me" "sorry, babe. I didn't make the rules" "which rules?" they laughed together "okay" she turned on the radio and tried to connect with some decent station "fuck" "you know you can use your pen drive, right?" she had taken the pen drive off the car "not with you in the wheel" you know, just for caution. he rolled his eyes and she finally connected with some Latin radio station

'Once de la noche y todavía no contesta'

'Un de la mañana y todavía no hay respuesta'

"Oh, no! No way!" "What?" "I am not bilingual like you" "and...?" "Not listening to something I do not understand" "so are you graduated in Korean now?" "No..."

'Cómo hacerte entender...'

he swallowed dryly a little "don't know what are you talking about" "no? What about that time you got drunk and sang out loud BTS's songs, huh?" "Only the English parts! Now just change it" "but it's Maluma!" he looked at her without blinking and pouted "fine" he smiled like a kid

'... eres muy bonita pa' llorar por el...'

She changed the radio station once more and found a random one

'Day to night to morning, keep with me in the moment

I’d let you had I known it, why don’t you say so?'

"You got to be kidding me" she giggled "I hate this song!" "I know" she kept laughing

'You got to keep me focused, you want it? Say so'

"Just turned it off" "oh, but I like it" Calum turned off the radio "no songs for you" "hey, that's my car! Spent lots of money on it" "But I am driving" "don't make me feel more regret than I already am" he laughed and leaned quickly to kiss her cheek "hey, Cal" "hum?" "I am bored" "you're acting like a fucking kid" "no. I am a fucking kid" "well, it's not a long ride. We'll be there soon" "where is 'there'?" "Nice try, nice try" she pouted and laid her head on the window so she could stargaze and think about how lucky she is to had been run over by the man driving at her side. She was so so in love with him.

Flashback:

Some friends had texted her. Bon Jovi was going to be in town and they have two tickets more. They gave it to her of course expecting she'd invite that guy she hanged out a few times, definitely her new crush. Calum. Such a beautiful name 'thanks Roy' he had introduced them. For some miracle, she got the guts to invite him.

[4:28pm]

'Be here at 6pm'

[5:17pm]

'Your place is so far from where I am now'

'You can drive my car'

'will be there in 40 minutes'

She grinned, shook her head lightly and blocked her phone to finish her makeup 'he will never desire me' she thought even knowing she will try to impress him anyways. Was 5:55pm when he arrived "I have exactly 2 minutes in advantage" "you made it, next time I will let you have a rest" "thanks" he pecked her cheek out of breath "are you ok?" "Yes, you are just breathtaking" he laughed "oh, I am not" "yes, you're. Always" she blushed "thanks" "you're welcome. Can I have a glass of water? The bus stop is far from here, you know?" "Yeah, sure come in". She gave him a glass of water and dropped on the sofa "thanks" "how can I refuse water for someone? Especially someone like you" he arched an eyebrown "someone like me?" "Yeah" "how is someone like me?" he dropped next to her "ridiculously healthy" "oh" he giggled "thanks. I really appreciate" "so, where were you?" "someone is interested in where I was" he teased, she rolled er eyes "you love annoy me, don't you?" "And you still have to ask? Anyhow, I was hanging with a friend" "'hanging with a friend' means banging with a girl?" "What?!" He started laughing "are you jealous or something?" "No..." She blushed "just trying to know you better" "so why are you blushing?" "I..." "Relax, I was with Luke. He is planning a trip to our home country with Ash and Mikey too. So we went out to lunch, but he lives far from here..." her body relaxed and she smiled "Australia is very nice" "is the best place in the world" "yeah, except the fact that is not Minnesota" he laughed "keep dreaming, kid" "I am two months older than you" "whatever, ms. jealousy" "'m not jealous!" "you looked so relieved when I said I was with Luke" "I didn't" "it's ok, I already admitted to myself that my love life is a joke anyways" "I bet it's not true" "trust me, it is" "thought you were the kind of guy that spent the night in 3 parties and in this 3 parties, hook up with at least 2 girls. At the same time" he laughed out loud "oh, honey, I used to be that guy, and now I am feeling very proud of myself" she giggled "why you are not that guy anymore?" He cleaned his throat "well, I met this lady, some months ago, and now all I do is think on her. I made out with someone a few days ago and couldn't finish the job, because was thinking on her" 'wow that hurted' "wow... You should be with this girl right now, not with me" he looked at her, 'unfreakingbelievable' "I literally made an hour and a half trajectory in 40 minutes to go in a concert just to be in your company cause' honestly I am not going to this concert because I want to see old Jon Bon Jovi sing 'bed of roses' and take ladies to Heaven..." she giggled "why do you think I did that?" "'Cause you're an idiot" he grinned "you are right, I should be with the my romantic interest" she frowned a little and they just stayed looking inside each other's eyes for a minute "I-I think we should go" it felt like he raped her with his gaze "are you ok?" "I dunno" "alright, tell me if you will need an ambulance" "okay" "so, where is that bad boy keys?" she chuckled "here" she gave to Calum the key "please, be careful" "my middle name is safety" "really? I thought was Tomas" "details, details". They were on the driveway ready to go when she saw Ginger, her cat, with the paw stuck in the water drainage grid "oh! wait a minute" she left the car "what's wrong?" "My cat. you can back the car while I help Ginger?" "no problem. Am I allowed to listen some music, too?" "Sure. The pen drive is in the glove compartment" "'kay". she ran to Ginger to help her little baby "my God, love, I am here" Calum grabbed the pen drive in the glove compartment and started back the car slowly without looking in the mirrors "well, it's done, Ginger. You are free now" she freed her cat that ran back to the roof. Calum was fighting with the pen drive's USB entrance "why I never put that shit on the right side?" and he forgot that he was backing the car. She turned to went back to the car or they would be late and all she could see was the car's trunk colliding with her hip. When he stopped the

car she was already on the floor. She definitely needed that ambulance now.

He took her to the hospital and then back to her place. He locked the front door and she dropped onto the sofa, now with a broken leg "that was the last time you drove my car" "you're sure?" he joined her on the sofa "you will need someone to help you during the next two weeks" "I have other friends..." "So we are still friends?" "Yes" "I am sorry for ran over you" "yeah, be mad with you will not change what happened" "it's because of this that I will be the one who will take care of you. Remember? My middle name is carefulness" "Wasn't safety?" "Is a long full name, see? Calum Safety-Careful Tomas Hood" "hum, I don't think so" they laughed "sorry, again" "stop apologizing and start looking for a driver costume" "I will not do that" "why not? Would be so sexy" she bit her bottom lip "you think?" "You are already sexy so..." "I'm" they laughed "okay, you don't need a costume, but I will need help in the shower, instead" "I will love to help you with the shower" "I was thinking in call Roy" "call Roy?!" he looked a little angry "you should see your face. And I am the jealous one here" "well, I just maybe, just very very maybe am into you" she smiled and blushed a little "I am into you too" "you are saying that only because do not get turned on by Jon Bon Jovi tonight" she laughed "And you are saying this only because you ran over my leg" he turned his grin to a line "No. I really mean it" "me too" she bit her bottom lip and he smiled again "but… unfortunately, you are not literally into me" "not for too long" soon the distance between them became minimum and in a blink of eye, they kissed. They kissed like already did that for years, like their lips met each other already before, even being the first time. Calum laid her back on the sofa and things started to get hotter, soon her Bon Jovi's tank top flew across the living room. She broke the kiss "what are you doing?" "I am trying to make up, because of the concert. Do you mind?" she smiled "you really know how to fix up the things" and they kissed again, now his black tee was off and...

"Honey, 're you alright?" Calum took her off the flashback "oh, yes. Was thinking in the first time we fucked" he laughed "so delicate" "sorry, the first time we 'made love'" "uh, that was bad" she laughed "thanks for ran over me, by the way" "only you for thanks the idiot that ran over you" "well, you are an idiot, but you are my idiot" "possessive" but he was hers and he loved that "oh, shut up" he laughed "so, was thinking in the week after your leg was better, huh?" "That wasn't the first time we fucked" "It was" "no, we fucked after you took me home in the night it happened" "no, no. I fucked you that night and I thought we had fucked, but three weeks later I discovered that I was wrong" "I am not..." "The way you move, babe, when you were with the broken leg wasn't sex with you, was sex for you" she laughed "It should be a compliment?" "Yes. And a good one" "well, in that case, thank you very much" she directed her gaze back to the sky and he looked at her, he was so in love

About 30 minutes later, Calum was taking the exit on the road to Santa Monica, she had read that in a sign. "Santa Monica!" "yup" "the pier?" "Yes" "oh, you know I love a pier, is…" "…so romantic" she laughed at him pretending to be her "but, we are not here specifically because of the pier" "so why?" "You will see" "please, stop. It's killing me" "oh, you're such a drama queen" he parked the car and turned off the engine "let's go". He tugged her to the amusement park "that's so exciting! what are we gonna do?" "fucking kid" she giggled "we'll play hockey" "what?!" he guided her to the Playland Arcade "that's..." she was confused that couldn't even talk "there's a lot..." "air hockey tables? yes" "but..." "Look, I know that do not have ice and is not real hockey, but I thought you'd enjoy" he rubbed the side of his neck "hockey remembers you home, right?" she had some water on her eyes and a true smile "I would like everything since it came from you" he smiled and flipped the disk "so, let's see if the Milwaukee girl still in flames" "you definitely know nothing about Winsconsin"

She won, of course "Badgers rocked your ass Aussie boy!" as she said, and they decided to rest on the pier, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her body "that was lovely" "me losing or your very kind comment about it?" she giggled "no. You remembered the air hockey here and tried to diminish my homesickness" "I understand how bad it is" "thank you" "no, thank you" "for what?" "To be with me, to love me, I was taking the wrong way before met you, you know?" "Well, shout out to Roy" "shout out to Roy" he repeated and they laughed "I was thinking in buy a ticket for you. To go home for a few days..." she looked into his eyes "what do you think?" "don't" she said smoothly "you sure? I have been saving money to paying the first tax to a car mortgage, but it can wait..." "No, Cal. Buy your car" "but you miss home" "yes, I miss it, but..." she cupped his face "I have you here and I realized... my home is you" he smiled and dipped to kiss her. She rested her head back on his shoulder and watched the moonlight reflecting in the ocean "and you are mine" he whispered against her hair. she smiled and enjoyed his company, she was so in love with him and he was so in love with her.

suggested playlist:

#anon #request #5sos imagine #calum hood blurbs #calum hood #calum 5sos #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood imagine #calum hood fluff

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whumpsy-daisy · 3 years ago

Text

Day 3 Whumpas in July Prompt Sleep

Taglist : @thecitythatdoesntsleep

Kieran had watched over him the last three days carefully. He was healing perfectly fine and eating well too. It was mentally Kieran was worried about. Elliot stopped sleeping in his room, he couldn’t go near the stairs anymore. He slept on the couch refusing any other blankets and pillows Kieran would bring. He only managed to get small intervals of sleep before waking up screaming, sobs echoing through his home once again. Tonight he wanted to try something different. Dinner was quiet as usual, aside from the gentle prodding from him trying to get Elliot to tell him what he’d done while he was at work.

“I watched cartoons...again, but I cleaned the kitchen and I mopped!” Elliot stammered, his fork trembling in his hand. Kieran told him he didn't have to clean anything at all, but Elliot insisted on it even though he could barely stand, let alone clean something. Kieran didn't bother chastising him about it though. He was scared enough about just admitting to watching cartoons.

“I can tell. You know you don't have to though, right?” Kieran spoke softly, hiding anything that sounded condescending in his voice behind a soft smile. Elliot’s brows furrowed. Kieran shook his head rapidly.

“B-But if that's what you want to do that’s fine, as long as you're happy!” he chirped. Elliot put his head back down continuing to eat. Kieran wasn’t exactly sure the message had gone through completely but he could worry about that later. On cue, after dinner, Elliot would get from his seat, pad over to the couch, and curl up. Kieran turned on the lamp he’d given him as usual. Elliot gave a small wave before turning the other way. Kieran didn’t bother staying awake himself when he got to his room. That was a scream he didn’t think anyone could sleep through.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It’d been barely 3 hours when Elliot’s screaming pierced through the silence. Kieran rose up groggily fumbling with the door. He slowly crept down the stairs, as if he could scare Elliot anymore. The floorboard hissed, Elliot whipped his head around.

“M'sorry I didn’t- I’ll be quiet! Please I’m sorry!” he sobbed. Hands quickly coming up to protect himself.

“S’okay, not gonna hurt you. Let’s just try something new, ok?” He started softly. Elliot hiccupped looking at him with wide eyes. Kieran lowered himself a bit, holding out his arms. Elliot’s knuckles were as white as his hair with how tightly he had the blanket in his grip.

“M’not gonna hurt you, c’mere.” His words still slurring from sleep. Elliot reached out for him shakily, Kieran took him gently from the couch. Carrying him bridal style back up the stairs. He was relieved to find that his ribs weren’t poking into him when he had to carry him anymore. Elliot shut his eyes the moment he saw where Kieran was taking him. He made the journey up the stairs quickly. He side eyed the shattered door to Elliot's room. He didn't remember much of what happened, but from the way Elliot's heart began to speed up he knew taking him inside probably wasn’t the best idea. He turned back down the hall to his room.

Elliot sniffles subsided as Kieran place him on the bed. Kieran gestured to the side on the left and Elliot scrambled to it, wiping tears out of his eyes.

“If you feel scared, you can hold onto me. I don’t think you’ve gotten more than a few hours of sleep this week.” Kieran yawned. Elliot begrudgingly moved closer to him wrapping his frail arms around Kieran’s larger one.

“I’ve got you.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Kieran's eyes fluttered open, eyes meeting Elliot’s sleeping face nuzzled into his arm. He hadn’t seen him look so peaceful since he'd been brought home. But if sleeping was his only escape from whatever was plaguing his mind, Kieran was going to make sure Elliot at least got to enjoy that.

#human whumpee #whump prompt #whumpmas2021 #whumpmasinjuly #wij21day3 #sleep deprivation whump #vampire caretaker #conditioned whumpee #petwhumpee #pet whump #whump #whump fic #whump blog #whumpblr

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heybeybey · 4 years ago

Note

Did I ask you the peaceful rivetra cabin one honey with a slice of nsfw ?? ( if I did already ignore this 😭)

Not yet! @himebee-5 And I'm glad you requested this! Anyway, you know how long my HC posts are so the actual cabin headcanon comes in halfway through (this is 1,454 words wtf) haha

This is 3 full cups of honey, a dash of dramatic angst in the beginning and two teaspoons of NSFW btw.

Hope you'll enjoy!!

Rivetra Cabin +++ (you’ll understand what the + is later on) Canonverse AU

Petra lived through the 57th failed expedition but both her and Levi were permanently injured. Petra came out with a spinal injury and while the doctors did say that she's going to make a partial recovery, her mobility won't be the same as before.

Levi, on the other hand, lost his left leg. Both have no choice but to retire from the Survey Corps.

I want to add a dash of drama so in this Canonverse AU, the Military Police are forcing Levi to go back to the Underground.

His temporary citizenship above ground is revoked since he's not going to be a Scout anymore and he wasn't able to fulfill the required service years needed to become a permanent resident (this is something that I just came up with lol)

Erwin tried to pull some strings but even he can't do much since the Survey Corps' reputation is tarnished at this point (same as what happened in the show). The MP tried multiple times to escort Levi out the Survey Corps HQ but Erwin and Hange always finds an excuse to delay it a bit (ex: wrapping things up regarding his dead squad, recovering for a month or two until he can be escorted back etc.)

Petra, stressed and panicking over the fact that her captain will be dragged back to the Underground, frantically begs Levi to run away with her.

Note that they don't have a relationship (yet) and Levi was surprised at her suggestion since Petra lives a decent life as a citizen born in Wall Rose.

He refuses and said that he can run away by himself if needed but Petra argues that now that he's disabled, he needs someone who will support him.

Our girl got bolder since she knows that they're not really Captain and Subordinate anymore.

She was persistent and a day before they know the MPs will come knocking again, he gives in and they made a run for it.

Erwin and Hange def. arranged a few things for them and Erwin even expedited their last salary

They jumped from one cheap apartment to another just to escape the MPs and finally found a cabin they can afford on a slightly rundown village somewhere north and towards the edge of Wall Rose

It wasn't the best village to live but definitely still better than the Underground (or in jail, in Petra's case since technically she just helped a criminal escape)

Few years passed (let's say their universe had a happy ending that Isayama won't probably give us 😭) and the MP gave up on Levi's case.

Petra and Levi live a quiet life together :3 Both of them needs some support when walking so they do have a crutch (for Levi) and a wheelchair (sometimes for Petra) on hand.

Levi used his last salary and savings to open a small tea shop in the village while they used Petra's for their monthly expenses during the first year. The tea shop eventually was able to support them once it started picking up.

Levi thought he'd hate not being able to serve in the Scouts but was surprised that he did prefer this domestic bliss instead.

He usually prepares the tea while Petra serves the customers in their tea shop.

They'd support each other in cleaning the cabin til it's spotless.

Petra buys groceries every week while Levi focuses more on cooking and laundry for the both of them.

It wasn't easy living together at first since we all know how Levi is and since they're really equals now, Petra doesn't hesitate in speaking her mind anymore. They'd sometimes clash but Levi is the one who often approaches her to apologize and make up.

They both hear news about what's happening and Erwin and Hange sometimes visit them (I want a happy ending for this so Daddy Sasageyo and Hange are both alive ok)

They didn't immediately jump one another btw. They both know that there are already feelings between them but Levi's too emotionally constipated to explore it, much less make it official.

It happened 2 years into living together. Levi was watching Petra sweep the floor and just abruptly said that they should get married.

Petra dropped the broom in shock and her face was absolutely comical. While she and Levi did have a few romantic moments here and there (small but unofficial dates, cheek and forehead kisses given subconsciously), they never talked about an actual relationship.

Levi said that they're already living together anyway and wasn't her dad upset that she's living with a man but not married to said man?

He also remembers the time when they were still in the Scouts and he and his squad were talking about what it might be like to be married since Eld just announced his engagement (rip ☹️)

His only contribution to that conversation btw is "no" when asked if he wanted to get married lol

Anyway, he remembered how Petra said that she once dreamed about getting married someday and having a happy family. However, at that time, her dream of dedicating her life to the Scouts was more important than settling down and she doesn't plan to retire for many many years.

They were both silent after that and Levi started feeling embarrassed. He tried to take it back, saying that of course, he understands that she doesn't want to since he is in his mid-30s and she'd probably find a better, able-bodied, younger man in the village instead.

Before he even finishes his apology, Petra said yes :3 (Girl has been fantasizing about this for years, of course she'll say yes haha)

They did a shotgun wedding that same evening and Levi started trying to find ways to romance her. It's all awkward at best and downright embarrassing attempts every single time but Petra wouldn't want it any other way.

Petra, being a romantic at heart, wanted a wedding dance and Levi, being a sap, gave in. They had their own wedding dance of sorts in their cabin the best they could with their conditions.

When they got the cabin, they shared one room but have separate beds. The next day after they got married, Levi found Petra pushing the bed together and she said they're married now and he usually climbs on her bed at the middle of the night whenever he has nightmares anyway.

The first ones to know about their shotgun marriage is Petra's father, Erwin and Hange. Hange dragged Erwin to their cabin the very next day after they received the letter.

Mr. Ral wasn't happy at first that Levi didn't ask for his permission (Petra scolded her father for being too old-fashioned) but he eventually told Levi that he approves as long as he's making Petra happy.

Erwin and Hange brought wedding gifts that can help them with their cabin (new cleaning materials, something for their fireplace and since Hange can be crazy, she also brought baby materials. Most are storybooks and onesies haha)

They weren’t planning on having kids but then Levi started reading the children storybooks that Hange brought and Petra noticed that he’d sometimes get this look in his face

We all know Levi would make a great father!!!!

She asked him to stop using protection one night and after three months of trying, Petra did end up pregnant :3

Now for the spicy HCs 💦

Levi wanted to make sure he does everything the right way for her so yes, they do have a wedding night. It was awkward the first time around but Levi has superb stamina 😏 so they did a few rounds and he got the hang of it the second time around.

After the third round, Petra was begging him if they can go to sleep instead. Levi teased her since she accidentally revealed that she's been fantasizing about fucking her captain for years. Now she's giving up?

Okay, that challenged her and they did one last round lol

Turns out Levi being a clean freak doesn't end with brooms, rags and mops! He's also great with aftercare.

Since Petra didn't have the energy to shower any longer (also taking into consideration her spine's condition), Levi cleaned her afterwards while she just lay there smiling stupidly in contentment.

Sometimes, aftercare ends in more sex though since Levi can't help himself and he starts teasing her again.

...Petra got dicked down on every furniture in their cabin btw. Their favorite is the wooden living room table because it’s in front of the fireplace.

#rivetra #levi x petra #petra x levi #rivapeto #levipetra #petra ral #petra rall

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

Text

The Way to Hell - Part 11

Synopsis: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Explicit smut, violence, gore, cutting, angst, manhandling, choking, foul language, bondage, breath play, unprotected sex.

A/N: Assuming my usual panic attack positions! Ok, so there are about 2 chapters left and I fear this story is about to conclude... 😰 This chapter put me through an emotional turmoill! Many thanks for my editor and muse @agniavateira, @yespolkadotkitty for the cover art and @dancingwendigo and @wondersofdreaming who’re helping me through my panic attacks and providing tips

Please comment, review and reblog. 💖

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me

Pearly tendrils of light shine through the creases of his lids, waking him from a dreamless sleep. A mixture of iron and dream-like mellowness tugs at his nose, like death and fresh roses. It’s so close he can nearly taste it on his parched tongue. Swallowing the scorching dryness in his throat, the fallen man attempts to move but a leaden warmth defies him, hugging softly onto his upper torso and embracing him in the foreign fog of solace.

A delicate heartbeat murmurs against his, so frail it virtually feels as if it melted into his own ribs.

As if she dissolved into him.

Cold sweat layers his forehead. Snapping frantically he shoves the girl off of him, curling against the headboard with a crazed neurotic look on his face as if he was touched by a blaze of blistering fire.

“What the fuck do you want!?” August yells, his voice hoarse and cracked. His glare shoots through her across the small bedroom, his mind rapidly trying to grasp any recollection of the messy chamber. This location is strange to him; the walls feel like they’re closing in, withdrawing the air from his lungs in a place that seems like a warzone. The light-carpeted floor is soiled by a long path of the darkest red, the trail leading back to them.

The porcelain valkyrie is pushed to the edge of the bed, seemingly like a rare mythological creature. Her long hair drapes her face like a dark veil, pierced by two shiny diamonds that glimpse through, imbued with naivety. Still drowsy, she tries to collect her own senses, rubbing her heavy forehead and releasing a soft groan.

“Relax, stop shouting.” she pleads with lids half shut. Her slender arms spread in the air, suggesting a peace treaty.

August scowls, his airflow becoming short and quickened. He lets a hand rave over his chest with panic, finding it bare and sticky with dry blood and sweat. A clean bandage is wrapped around his left pectoral and crossed tightly around one shoulder. While the aching sting still bites into the wounded muscle, his energy has slightly renewed, as well as his sanity.

Or so he believes.

Making another hasty survey of the room, he finds his belt and armed holster scattered on the floor. He makes a dash for it, immediately aiming the gun in Ingvild’s direction, refusing to fall to whatever game this may be.

She stares at him motionless, remaining seated with her knees folded and her feet nestled below her behind. “Feels nice doesn’t it?” she provokes, her lips breaking into a faint grin as if the muscles of her face are still learning the concept of smiling. “To wake up with your tits out.”

Looking back at her unamused, his hand waves the gun. A glower shadows his face, painting deep lines in his forehead. The attempt to greet her with an onslaught of insults results in nothing but a painful wheeze as his throat sears.

“Don’t move,” Ingvild commands lightly and climbs off the bed, completely ignoring the click of the gun and August’s arm that follows her every movement. Her legs nearly float through as she moves gracefully, rushing to the bathroom nearby. She grabs a glass and fills it from the tap before quickly returning to sit on the bed, offering the tall glass to August.

Wary of her peace offering, he hesitates, scanning her for any signs of wickedness and finding none. Something else glints through her big irises instead. The deep lines that dot those beautiful greys seem so brittle, immersed in emotion he can’t define or recognize at all.

It makes him feel attacked.

Snatching the glass violently, he swallows its content in one gulp, feeling a thirst he never sensed in his entire existence. He places the glass on the nightstand, slamming it so harshly it shatters.

Ingvild peers at the light sparkling onto the broken shards and averts her eyes back to August’s profoundly ragged face. He glares with blazes of fury, evidently less than inclined to trust her despite her efforts to make amends, and the fact that she nursed him through a stormy night.

It pricks her heart, more than it ever did when she tried to gain Liam’s affection.

“I could have killed you at least three times in your sleep,” she murmurs and then pauses, attempting to smirk again. “You should really lay off the snacks, I nearly fainted trying to get you to the bed.”

Unphased, he carefully gauges her appearance. Soft, pale light shines through the window, showering her skin with a mellow haze as she sits holding a hand over her forearm, squeezing it nervously. Her glance is filled with rain clouds, the cynicism and the hatred he grew so accustomed to is untraceable.

A piece inside her shifted, deeming her fragile all of the sudden. In his heart of tar and stone, he knows she speaks the truth, yet the spirit of vengeance won’t let go. Bile rises in his throat, fingers twitching as the constant hunger to touch her prickles his skin. The woman is a natural prey to him, making his mouth salivate. It’s enough to see her defenceless to make him want to gnaw fresh cavities in her flesh.

But something else boils in his veins. More than just a primal need.

“Why can’t you just let me be?” he asks sharply, teeth gritted and jaw strained tightly. A slight tremor runs through his bones, his body dominated by anger and despair.

“You came here,” she answers, staring fearlessly between the barrel and his furious gaze. A small frown forms between her eyebrows, the grey clouds inside her lustrous eyes beginning to take wind. “You wanted to retaliate.”

Fragments of the other night begin to slice into the black matter of his brain: her tears, her lips moving slowly, whispering his own words of a vendetta in her angelic voice.

Like a dream, nebulous and virginal, how beautiful she was surrendering her will to his.

‘Fight it! She betrayed you.’

“Oh trust me, princess, I still very much want to see you die.” he retorts, the gun beginning to feel heavy in his hand. He reaches to hold his own wrist, giving a fierce glare. “You should have ended it, darling.”

“Yes, I should’ve killed you,” she agrees, her lower lip slightly quivering as she looks at him with desperation. Her chest begins to heave through the cleavage of her top, the same tarnished one she wore that night. It still smells like his sweat. His musk is so stubborn it lingers.

“I should be a good girl, for Liam, for Icarus. But I have so many thoughts going through my head over and over again, splitting my mind in half. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to kill for them, I don’t want to kill you. It hurts.”

Shuffling in a swift movement, she crawls toward him, her muscles flexing inward. Her slick manoeuvres remind him of a majestic feline. August’s pupils dilate as the lines of her face sharpen in his sight and the warmth of her body returns to caress him like a pleasant autumn breeze.

Ingvild reaches her slender arm for his wrist fearlessly before he can even muster any protest. Ignoring the gun aimed at her throat, she forces his palm flat onto her chest and inhales sharply. Her heart thunders against his touch, making his own beat accelerate.

“Right here,” she says, gazing deeply into his eyes as if trying to enchant him. “I have killed close to 470 people since I was 14. I don’t remember their faces, but I do know I never felt this before, not for any of them.”

The azure ocean in August’s eyes gushes with alarming gusts. The scarce physical contact ignited a spark inside him, driving him to withdraw his hand aggressively, putting down the flame before it begins to spread again.

“What do you want? What do you think this is?” he asks furiously, boring a frenzied look into her eyes. He feels a certain heat rising in his chest. He reasons with himself that it’s just the gunshot wound festering, burning his lungs to cinders.

“I want you,” she answers, her gaze dropping to his lips, admiring the fine shape. A sharp cupid’s bow hidden beneath the coarse hair of his thick moustache. Her hands dream of stroking his sculptured jaw and feel the bristle of his untamed stubble.

“I want to follow you on your mission.”

‘She is lying. Don’t trust her, remember what happened the last time you’ve placed your faith in a woman?’

August’s nostrils flare, his mind scouring frantically, bargaining for a reason why she would be different. Twice he spared her, his murderous will weakened by her manipulative spells, clawed by whatever it was she had on him. The voice in his head warns him gravely, yet the fact that here he is, still alive by her merciful hand spikes his doubts, meddling with his thoughts the way only she could do.

Ever since she stepped into his life he’s been spiralling into a cataclysm. Something that he always gripped with zeal was no longer in his control.

Leaning closer, he narrows his eyes with spite. The muscle of his jaw contracts, clenching tightly. He grazes the cold barrel of the gun against the supple skin of her cheek. “Why should I trust you?” he spits out, tracing her face further with the hard, crude metal. “You think that because I broke you in, I actually care about you?”

Ingvild studies his face, not showing any sign of fear as she nods to herself. “You need proof.”

The young woman looks around her, searching for something in the room thoughtfully. Her eyes rest on the nightstand beside August and she leans to it, brushing her entire figure against his broad body for a split second as she reaches for the broken glass.

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” he asks cautiously, his eyes following her every move. He crooks his eyebrow as she sits in front of him with her legs bunched beneath her bottom. Displaying her left arm with her elbow resting on one knee and her palm facing upward, she presses the shard against her wrist.

August frowns in a mixture of confusion and agitation, alarm bells ringing at the back of his head. Yet no rational thought makes it to his mind as he watches the glass tear through her skin.

Silence befalls the room. Abruptly so quiet he can hear the buzz of the electric cords running through the walls. Even her breath pauses as her right hand drops the shard on the bed, her eyes remaining poised, darting onto his. Overcome with disbelief he wonders if she actually did it, scrutinizing her flesh which seems intact.

Suddenly, a spout of blood emerges through her open wrist.

Dark red liquor licks down her arm, sensually dripping onto her worn jeans and pooling onto the blanket. August’s heart stirs with shock, yet he attempts to force his emotions away.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

Keeping her sight on his, Ingvild remains still, not flinching a muscle as the blood pumps out of her severed artery. The pain is excruciating yet the chants in her mind continue to tell her to hold her groans inside.

‘Show no weakness, prove your strength.’

“You want loyalty.”

“Won’t mean a thing if you’re dead,” he answers coldly, waiting for her to stop the blood, to show any fear or regret. The thick liquid continues to flow down her arm, tarnishing her porcelain skin that begins to turn paler as the blood drains from her body. He gathers the torture must be unbearable yet she won’t even make a whimper.

‘What is she waiting for?’

“I’m not going to save you,” August warns.

Ingvild shrugs lightly, trying not to move her arm too much. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll die one way or another, by your hand or Icarus’. At least this gives me a choice.”

The drops staining the bed sound like rain tapping against a window ledge, heavy and dull.

August’s brows knit together, his eyes running back and forth between her arm and her face, watching her lips turning light blue, triggering disturbing memories in his mind. “What on earth does that mean?” Heavy frown lines paint his forehead as he recalls her words before she shot him.

“I have to kill you.”

“You’re a slave?” he reckons, looking at the colour vanishing from her face as she nods. “How very disappointing, Ingvild.”

“A tool, controlled by men whom I’ve never seen to manipulate the world and sustain the old order, as you wrote in your manifesto.” she shuts her eyes for a mere second, trying to push back the throbbing twinge in her vein as her body screams with panic.

“They stole my freedom…” she pauses, finding it suddenly hard to speak. “They stole me... what did they take from you?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snaps, aware of how her voice slows down along with her breath. He swears he can hear her heartbeat getting louder as if begging to be rescued.

“But I am bleeding for you.” she provokes, offering a small weak chuckle. Feeling the euphoria creeping to her mind. “You should tell me your plans like villains do in the movies. I’m dying anyway.”

August snarls. Shaking his head, his eyes hold a rageful ocean, washed with concern. The image of her dying corpse lying beneath him flashes into his memory. A dead angel in the snow, lips frozen in time. He should have left her there in the frozen lake. But for a split second, she was Lacey and then she wasn’t.

As she slowly dives into her own death, he still wonders why he couldn’t let her drown.

‘For fuck’s sake.’

Ingvild closes her eyes accepting the shadows that seduce her to join them, the pain dwindling as her body gives in. But she’s quickly pulled back by August who holds her hand, covering the bleeding slit with his tattered shirt and pressing into it. His voice comes as distant thunder, vibrating gently in her ears before words begin to make sense again.

“Hold it up, like this,” he commands her, folding her arm and fisting her wrist tightly. “Where are the bandages?”

Ingvild tilts her chin, her sleepy eyes gesturing onto her bag on the floor where a pristine white pack of badges lies.

“Keep the pressure on,” he orders her again. His voice is calm as if once again he follows protocols. Yet something stirred, hiding within the silent sea of his eyes which snap at her for a split second.

They’re tainted by fear.

Ingvild watches with hushed admiration as he hurries to grab the bandage and returns to her. A small wrinkle rests between his brow, focusing intently on wrapping her open wound. He makes such a beautiful, neat work dressing her injury, she almost feels sorry for making a mess out of his.

“Have I proved myself?” she taunts, peeking at him through her lashes while he makes work of tying the dressing tightly at her wrist. His elegant hands wrap a piece of medical duct tape around the bandages, twirling the long thick bands ceremonially as if they were silk ribbons.

His stern gaze rests upon her face, noting every flake of her long lashes, watching the different colours shift like thick liquid as daylight breaks onto her glassy irises. Awe plays with the strings in his chest, mesmerized by the innocence in her that refuses to die even after he desecrated her.

The craving in him seethes. Like a thirsty man in the desert who stumbles onto an oasis.

‘You can’t let her go, can’t let her slip between your fingers.’

With her wrist still in his grasp, he allows himself to stroke a thumb over the white cotton of the bandage, brushing the suppleness of her skin.

“This is not the devotion I need from you, princess.”

Ingvild flinches like a scared animal, shivering at the foreign tenderness of his touch. No one ever touched her with kindness. Soft, feather-like caresses embark further up her milky skin, making her moan at the pleasant new sensation. Light and careful, his fingers ascend to her neck and press around her chin.

“Angel,” August murmurs, low and sonorous. His bulky body looms closer, whilst the grip around her jaw becomes tense, drawing her closer until his lips are a mere inch away from hers. “Do you want to be devoted to me?”

“Yes,” she answers, voice still lingering either by blood loss or the passion that begins to cloud her mind.

Consoled by her answer, a small growl builds in the pit of August’s diaphragm, accompanied by a lustful grin that edges his chiselled face.

“Then show me your devotion.”

“No…” she protests lightly, finally breaking into a true little smile that glints brightly in her eyes. The radiance almost makes him want to take it from her by force. “I’m not a toy.”

August smirk widens at her response, exposing his sharp fangs that beam at the faint hint of rosy hues that circles her cheeks.

“Did I stutter?” Authority paints his voice, his grip putting pressure on her nape and pressing her chin up with the pad of his thumb. The patience in him wears thin, greed weaving in his gut yet he vows to hold back as much as possible, unwilling to tear down her wings.

She must submit freely.

Fallen by his power, she watches the darkness pour into his eyes, his lips pulling apart slightly, anticipating the moment when he can steal the air from her lungs and nibble into the plumpness of her lips. Whatever strength in her wanes, bending to his will. She meekly takes his lips into hers, suckling him above and below, feeling the rough graze of his moustache.

It’s nothing like the violent kiss they shared in the pit, yet something in her quickly awakens: a hunger like no other, turning the kiss more demanding. Like fire spreading, their tongues quickly engulf each other, dancing feverishly. August’s growl vibrates all the way down her sternum, his hands roaming down to grope every patch of skin.

A mewl of protest breaks from her as he leaves her lips, followed by a deep sigh as he begins to kiss down her throat. The scruff of his coarse facial hair makes her blood rush and her heart pumps with exhilaration, nearly halting from the bliss of his touch.

“I want everything.” August blurts out, tugging her shirt over her head and then biting her breasts over her bra. The canvas of her skin is tainted by deep-grey and purple shades. Flicking the clasp of her bra, he wonders briefly which were from their fight and which formed as he fucked her so aggressively. He feels nothing but pride in knowing he will make new ones right now. Brand her as he claims her his own.

Sharp teeth sink into her tender breasts, coaxing yips of pain, marking her with wet little cavities while his fingers fiddle with her jeans, urgently huddling it down her legs along with her underwear. Impassioned, she shifts from her position, kicking away the last remnants of her clothes. The chill air tickles her wet flesh, making her exhale with ghastly need. More wolf than a man, August leans back, his torso layered with sweat that glistens of the dark fur of his torso. The fabric of his trousers is stretched painfully over the massive bulge and mindlessly she reaches out to feel him, kneading the outlines of his erection through his pants.

‘Fuck, her touch...’

Fervent groans tremor through his sinew as she squeezes him harder. She frees him from his trousers, running a hand up and down his shaft, astounded by his vastness and the correlation of smooth velvet skin over rock-hard muscle.

Still sore, the pounding heat of need rocks at the centre of her cunt, possessing her into swaying her perky breasts against his cock. Pearly beads of precum exude from the tip, coating the erected peaks of her nipples.

“Fuck!” August pants and swallows hard, as the battle over his self-control drains him. Patience has always been his virtue in bed, his power over women. Release in control by sodomy that inflicted true pleasure.

But not with her. She strings different tunes, singing seductive hymns to the animal in him.

He wants her. He needs her. He must have all of her.

‘I deserve her.’

Drawing back against the headboard, his hands snap at her hip, lifting her with ease to stand on her knees right above his cock. Ingvild nibbles at her bottom lip, her eyes falling onto his hardened shaft which lies heavily against his abs.

If not for all the injuries she caused him, the large man’s Adonis-like form would have looked like a renaissance statue cut out of marble.

“Come here,” he commands, removing one hand from her to seize the base of his huge cock which towers with glory amidst the dark bundles of curls. “Take me in”

A stream of arousal rushes inside her, making her quiver as she lowers her soaked crease onto his erection ever so gingerly. Cries of overwhelm break from her lips. His girth splits her apart, whilst his wolf-like glares bore into hers with the triumph of conquest.

Every push stretches her wider, forcing her body to succumb and accept him despite the painful effort. August is too big, his vastness tears whatever innocence is left to her, and he is not even fully within.

Shivering, she halts, hearing August’s snarl of protest when realizing she has her nails cleaving crescent-marks on his pumped shoulders.

“All the way in, angel,” he commands, and then bucks his hips into her and snaps her down onto his pulsating shaft, giving no notice to the scream she lets out as he sears her.

He drives himself in until her ass slams onto his thick thighs. She can feel his hot flinching cock buried within the dark pit of her gut while his sack strains against her clenched cavern.

“Good girl.” August praises, pressing her against his chest as they both pant and groan in harmony. Calls of pleasure and cries of pain mingle into a sinful symphony.

But suddenly he stills, and his hand snaps at her neck. Thumb pressing at her artery, he makes a small thrust, causing her to whine as little sparks kindle in her cunt.

“August, please.” she whimpers, trying to ride him to ease the aching despair that boils in her cunt. He fills her to the hilt yet gives no friction but the thundering throb of his thick veins.

“Devotion.” he replies, his free arm fishing for the leather belt perched on the floor. With one determined wring of his wrist,he wraps it around her neck, giving her a nice little collar with a leash made of the thick strap.

His finger brushes up and down the leather erotically, staring at the girl’s hazy grey orbs to see if he can find a drop of protest.

Instead, she presses her hands on his furry torso and desperately begins to mount him with teetering gasps. The noose tightens with the sway of her body yet the tension and the grind within is far too agonizing to stay still; the need to have him sunken in her depth of her soul defies any will to breathe.

August gapes his mouth with awe, groaning loudly as he feels her drenched cunt gripping around. She’s impossibly tight, his fresh little flower, crying out so hopelessly as if it hurts, as if being fucked by his large cock is so pleasurably unbearable yet her life depends on it.

“Poor little tight cunt,” he taunts, urging her to fall faster back on his thighs while bucking his hips into her with deep slams. “you missed this?” he asks with a groan, tying the strap around his fist and pulling her closer to meet his hooded gaze, “You missed me fucking you, angel?”

Unable to make more than strangled sobs, she nods with glassy eyes, feeling the squeeze around her arteries while her cunt convulses and blazes with ecstasy. Flames bloom in the pit of her womb, every assault of his cock inside her pushes the heat further through her nerves. Desperate, she is reduced to nothing but her pursuit of forgotten euphoria.

The fervent flames lick up her spine, darkness whispering in her mind. Yet she leans back, letting the noose devoid the oxygen to her heart and brain as her body falls lost into a delirium.

August feels her pussy tensing around his cock as the belt halts her airflow; through the heated waves of pleasure, an alarm blares. “Careful,” he rasps, reaching his fist to her throat to replace the belt and pulling her until her chest grinds into his own. “Don’t damage what’s mine!”

Her reply is a cracked wheeze, her body jolting as he fucks her into a punishing rhythm. Hot and burning, stoking inside her, balls thudding and battering her hole, the chant of their wet skin colliding in a violent dance accompanies the chaotic symphony of their moans. His angel latches onto him, wrapping tighter and tighter as her body accepts his offering of rage, sucking and milking him dry.

August pulls her face against his, fingers flexing around her jugular, lips grazing her own and then hovering to rob her of her feeble exhales.

“You want to breathe?” he snarls.

Ingvild nods, feeling the storm of fire about to erupt inside her. Her canal gripping him so tightly she can feel every tendon and ridges of him grazing her walls. Tears well in her raincloud eyes, her heart shrinking as she feels him, all of him, consuming her with his existence.

“Then come for me, angel.”

With his words, she arches back, letting the fire implode in her loins and sweep her into a rapture so intense her entire body shakes around him. All she can feel is August, filing her soul, seeping in deeper than her thoughts.

Tears spring down her cheeks, emotions and pleasure whirl at her heart at once.

“August!”

Hearing his name on her lips spikes the savage spirits within. Reduced to a beast, he takes hold of her hips, flipping her over and riding between her thighs. His hands pin her down by the neck and he ravages her through her climax. He can feel the flinch of his cock, swelling larger inside her narrow space. The innocence of her essence devours him. All the hate and pain diminishes and for a brief moment, he is allowed into heaven, feeling nothing but bliss in his chest. His shouts of pleasure echo into the room, his body jerking into her as the hot, white ribbons of his thick seed sprout into her womb.

Falling down to earth is always the hardest part.

Taking a hard swallow, he leans his sweaty forehead against hers, rolling it slowly and listening to the silent hisses from her mouth. Still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulls himself to his elbows fighting the spasm in his muscles and their will to collapse. His brow suddenly crumples at her sight: her eyes shine with a wide spectrum of emotions that glisten sadly down her temples. Shivering sobs escape from quivering lips, trying to find words that never make it to her tongue.

August observes her carefully, removing his grip from her neck gingerly and reaching out a thumb to dry her tears. The crystals in her eyes were broken to dozens of many pieces that reflected the light back in various shades. A look of a lost child that carries an oddly familiar sensation, something that makes him cold and warm, as if Ingvild is inside his blood and he is inside hers.

They had killed each other after all and then brought one another’s hearts to beat again. In his twisted mind, it made for a more profound intimacy than sex.

“Easy, babygirl.” he speaks unusually compassionate, dipping a finger in the wetness beneath her eyes and then slips it into his mouth, tasting the salt onto his tongue. “That was intense for you, wasn’t it?”

She nods silently, the emotional release tingling through her aortae, making her skin prickle with goosebumps. She never felt like this: whole, vulnerable, and belonging. She never felt anything at all, all her life. Her body tries to control the jitters in her muscles yet her body seems suddenly inexplicably cold.

“Sh... it’s okay,” August whispers, capturing her lips into a chaste comforting kiss. “I’ve got you.” he murmurs and allows his lips to trail lower, pressing soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin and bone, descending through the plains of her naked flesh, tasting the mixture of their sweat. His fingers find the large crescent scar in her lower abdomen, tracing the withering stitches in a sick memory of their first night together.

He feels no remorse. Had he changed his action, she wouldn’t have been his right now.

Ingvild finally manages to release a sound, moaning with exhaustion as she eases into his care, her lungs and heart catching up when her body begins to float. With whatever strength left in him, August holds her the way a groom holds his bride, and carries her in his firm arms.

~*~

The bath is filled hot near to the brim. Mountains of foam edge onto the water, looking like fluffy little clouds. This bathroom is not as nearly as luxurious as the one he had in Bergen. It’s painfully plain, like something out of an 80’s film, yet right now it looks like the most outrageous, spoiling delight.

Sitting on the stone, his hand whirls the water, testing the heat before stepping in.

“Come here,” he beckons, reaching toward Ingvild to join him as he sits down, releasing a deep sigh of relief as the hot water soothes the pain. The bath is hardly big enough for a man of his size, his knees buck up, peeking above the water.

Ingvild takes his hand, stepping to sit at the spot between his thighs, making sure not to wet the bandages on her wrists. August’s arms guide her to melt back against his broad chest carefully, avoiding friction with the gunshot wound that begins to ache more and more as the last of the endorphins dwindle. He breaks into a small groan and lands his chin atop her head while glaring into the water with rising concern.

“They will come for us.” Ingvild finally manages to find words, her voice still husky as her jugular strains. “Once they know you’re not dead, they’ll hunt us. We need to move, fast.”

August weighs her words. He muses over the sacrifice she made, and for whom? The man who stabbed her and nearly left her to float in a frozen lake? ‘She chose, you didn’t force her.’

Indeed, it was her free will that brought her to him.

“We should,” he answers, rinsing some water onto her torso and rubbing her forearms clean. “Just relax now, you won’t do me good all broken.”

“You care about me,” she teases, a small smile creeping on her lips.

“We will make for my safe house from here, and then we can take the train to Manchester,” he answers, ignoring her comment.

Ingvild catches some foam in her palm, squeezing the dissolving material between her fingers lightly and then blows it with the weak airflow that comes from her lungs. Little specks of bubbles fly into the bath. August watches them with her silently.

“For the plutonium,” she utters.

“Yes.”

Tilting his head slightly, he looks down to see if there is any disgust or fear shadowing her face, yet finds none. The girl continues forming little abstract shapes in the dwindling white hills, twirling her fingernails on the tiny bubbles. The edge of her spine peeks between the thick strands of her hair, while hues of purple, nearly black, hug her nape. The girl is forbearing, enduring as she was taught; he wonders if it’s to please him, or if it pleases her as well.

Cupping water in his hands, he begins to wash her skin, pouring onto the back of her neck and her shoulders. He brushes his fingers through the brown waves of her hair while she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

It’s as if years of tension peel off from her, uncovering truths she fought to hide. August was right, and so was Liam; no one ever loved her. But now in the arms of a monster, she suddenly senses what she imagines would be care and affection. His touch is no longer clinical and it feels as if vines are growing onto her limbs, twirling around her and pulling her to become one with him.

In her mind, she can’t help but start picking into the not-so-distant past, recalling being his hostage and the conversations they had when they still hated one another. The anguish that resonates in his eyes didn’t speak of hatred individually toward the world, the specks of brown held a fair amount toward himself as well.

“What did Sloane do?” she asks curiously. “In Bergen, you mentioned she did something to you.”

She feels August’s sudden halt, his long digits entangled in her hair, pulling slightly while his chest sinks inward. His inhale takes into a heavy suction and his nostrils flare. He didn’t think of Lacey since he woke in Ingvild’s arms.

“She tricked me.” his eyes focus onto nothing and his fingers resume their course through Ingvild’s wet strands. He becomes slightly agitated, unlacing the small knots that formed at the edge with force. “She suspected me and never liked me- for a reason, of course. She knew someone was distributing secrets and weapons beneath her nose, so she sent a spy. In my case, it was my partner.”

“A woman,” Ingvild continues, the realization hitting her softly. “Lacey.”

Her name on Ingvild’s tongue sends a shiver creeping from the base of his spine.

“Yes,” he answers dryly and clenches his jaw. “We were partners for months. She got close. She... was loyal, she understood me or so I thought, but then I found out, she wasn’t.”

Ingvild hears the shift in his tone again, in their reflection on the water she sees him staring forward with grim shades painting his eyes. The corners of his lips tugged down as he broods.

“It sounds like you loved her.”

August remains silent, giving no answer. It resonates in her right away - betrayal burnt hotter than the wound itself. In their carnal twist, August burned her, but it wasn’t her carnal devotion he sought for.

“Where is she now?”

“Dead.” he answers, releasing a deep sigh of silent rage, not even bothering to shy from the truth this time. Ingvild was bred into a world of monsters; she breathed them, she killed them and he was just another beast for her to slay. Yet she chose to stroke her hand on his snout regardless of what she knew.

“I killed her.”

In his mind Lacey walks away, her blue heels tapping on the floor, echoing before she gives him one last glance. She turns away, her golden curls dulled by the lack of light as she vanishes into a mist of smoke and shadow.

Ingvild feels a slight relief at the thought of Lacey being dead, for some reason she can’t explain to herself. August returns his gaze to her again, removing his hands from her hair. His hand wraps around her jaw, pressing her head to look into his piercing glare. He looks for fear but finds none.

“Try to rest,” he commands and then wraps his arms around her possessively. “Long days are ahead.”

“Will you read me your manifesto?”

August looks down on her face once more, wondering for a moment if this is another hallucination. A terrible thought crosses his mind and his heart flinches; what if in these moments he’s actually bleeding to his death in the pit, his mind playing tricks as he breathes his last breath?

But the softness and warmth of her body feels more vivid than ever. Stronger than the doubt that creeps into his mind.

“There has never been peace without first a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace. As mankind is drawn to his self-destruction like a moth to the candle...” he chants, accompanied by Ingvild who also recites his words in her gentle voice.

_________________________________________________

disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible and August Walker

#Henry Cavill #August Walker #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #August Walker Fanfiction #August Walker smut #August Walker x OFC #Henry Cavill Smut #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry Cavill Fic #August Walker Fic #augustwalker #henrycavill #augustwalkersmut #henrycavillsmut

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

Fly Like a Bird- Playlist Chapter 5

Hey y’all, here’s the next chapter of Playlist, catch up on it and check out my other stories by clicking HERE.

CW: smut, violence, torture

Word count: 5812

Ashanti was the first to awaken, and she smiled warmly at the feeling of being in her lovers’ arms. She listened to his soft snores in her ear and her hand came up to caress his before intertwining their fingers. Just as she did, his hand closed around hers and pulled her in closer to his body. She felt his morning wood and bit her lip. She didn't want to wake him up, but the thickness resting on her backside had her seriously reconsidering. Her hips rolled against him involuntarily and he stirred awake.

“Good morning to you too,” T’Challa said with his raspy, deep morning voice before kissing her lightly behind her ear. She craned her neck so he could have better access and he started kissing down to her shoulder. “How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” Ashanti deadpanned, still feeling sore all over from the night before. T'Challa chuckled and she sunk back into his vibrating chest as his hand moved to grip her hip and pull her into him. He bit down on her shoulder before kissing back up to her neck.

“Kumkani’s sorry.”

“No you're not, don't even lie,” Ashanti said as a shiver went down her spine.

“Mm, you’re right, I’m not.” T’Challa bit her jugular and her pussy jumped. His hand came up to play with her nipples and she let out a moan before attempting to turn and face him.

“Don’t move, stay just like this,” he said as his other hand travelled down her naked body to the patch of short hairs between her legs. His fingers parted her outer lips before trailing up and down her pussy, seemingly begging for entrance. Her hips thrust back into his dick as he grinded with her, their bodies moving in sync. She let out a moan as his fingers grazed her clit.

“Is your pussy too sore for me to fuck you just like this?” His hand left from between her legs and made its way down her thigh before he pulled her leg up into the air.

“I’m sore, but I still want it,” she whined.

“I’ll be gentle, kitten.” He lined his throbbing dick up with her entrance and rolled his hips into her so that he slowly entered her little by little, pulling out and going in deeper with each stroke.

“Mmm, deeper kumkani,” her hand found its way to the back of his head and she pulled him in so that his face was buried in her neck, whispering filth into her ear.

“You want it deeper? I thought you were sore.”

“Mmm I love how you take this dick, kitten. So hungry for more.”

“Fuck you’re so tight around me, I’m going to bust deep inside you again.”

“I want you walking around with my cum dripping out of you whenever I say so…do you understand me?”

Ashanti’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, a goofy smile spread across her face as she silently thanked Bast for sending her the absolutely filthy man behind her.

“Ewe kumkani wam.”

He thrust his hips forward, fully sheathing himself inside her. The arm holding her leg up hooked around her knee and his fingers found their way to her mouth.

“Vula,” he commanded.

She obeyed, opening wide. When his fingers made contact with her tongue she closed her mouth around them, sucking just as she would his big juicy dick.

“Mmmm, you’re such a good little slut.” He bit her earlobe and picked up his pace, going deeper while pulling her leg further back so that her knee touched her shoulder..

“Ooooh, kumkani, it feels so good.”

“What does?”

“Your dick, i-inside me,” Ashanti stuttered out, the tension building in her lower half.

“This dick?” He thrust especially deep inside her, causing her to cry out.

“Yes! Yes, right there.”

T’Challa continued to fuck her like that, his other hand coming up under her and trapping her next to him even more before going straight to rubbing her clit. His hips rolled his dick into her repeatedly, switching up between long slow strokes and beating her pussy into submission.

“I feel you, kitten, cum for me.”

Her pussy tightened around him and she released a deluge onto the sheets, T’Challa following shortly after, filling her to the brim. They stayed in that embrace for a few moments before he slid out of her. She reached her hand down between her legs and brought it back to her lips, tasting the salty sweetness of them. His hand found its way under her chin, and lightly turned it towards him to meet him in a sweet and passionate liplock.

“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked against her lips.

“How about I cook you something?”

“You made dinner,” He lightly kissed her shoulder. “Let me handle breakfast. You know how much I love it.”

“Alright, alright, I’m convinced,” she giggled.

“You can keep me company,” he said as he watched her gracefully roll out of bed and reach for her robe. “Naked.”

She looked up at him and smirked, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his lips.

“As you wish, kumkani.” She led him back downstairs to the kitchen. Thankfully all he had to clean up from the night before was the cobbler bowls, which he put in the dishwasher. Ashanti leaned against the counter as he rummaged through her cabinets and refrigerator looking for inspiration. She admired his lean muscular frame as he glided around her kitchen like he owned it...and she guessed he kind of did in some ways since it was his country and all.

While his back was turned to her, Ashanti grabbed her sketchpad and started drawing him. His back muscles rippled every time he moved and she couldn't help but to capture the moment.

T’Challa played music from his beads and interrupted her drawing to pull her in close for a dance while he kept an eye on the plantains in the skillet. He twirled her around and swayed with her to the melody, their naked bodies in a gentle embrace. Ashanti wanted it to stay like this forever.

______

The next few weeks passed by with the lovers spending as much time together as possible. The king got to know Ashanti’s parents and roommates, and Ashanti grew close with the royal family. They were both on cloud nine, but T’Challa kept getting a feeling that something was going to go wrong. His cousin convinced him it was probably just his anxiety from past relationships resurfacing, and he let it sink to the back of his mind. For the most part.

Ashanti could tell that something was off with T’Challa, but whenever she asked him about it he would cover her in kisses and reassure her everything was fine. She didn’t believe him, but she let it go for the time being and gave him his space. After almost two weeks of his behavior she finally had enough, so she stormed into his office refusing to take “fine” for an answer.

“T’Challa Jahi Udaku!” she burst into his office, interrupting a conversation between the king and the chief of the Jabari. “Oh, excuse me Lord M’Baku.”

“None needed, I was just on my way out anyway and it seems you two have something important to discuss.” he and T’Challa shared a look. “Goodbye my King, Sister Ashanti.” He nodded to them both and saluted T’Challa on this way out the door.

The king stood and rounded his desk, grabbing both of her hands in his and bringing them to his lips.

“My love, what is the matter?”

“You!” she pulled her hands from his and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Why are you acting so strange and distant? Has something changed?”

“No, of course not-”

“Then why do you barely talk to me anymore? Did I do something?” her voice softened.

“Not at all kitten, I just-” T’Challa sighed, “Here, take a seat.”

She sat down tentatively, worried that the next thing out of his mouth would be exactly what she feared. He decided to be only partially honest.

“There has been some...concerning activity near our borders that has required my attention.”

“What kind of activity?” she asked, still not convinced.

“It is probably best that you do not know, trust me,” a look of restrained horror and sadness washed over his face. He wanted to tell her that he feels something nefarious is coming, but he didn’t want to worry her. His panther senses were almost never wrong and as of late they had been on a hundred.

He kneeled down in front of her before grabbing her hands again and staring deep into her eyes. “I am sorry that I have been neglecting you, love. That was not my intention”

“I know you’re busy being the king and protector of Wakanda,” she said as she straightened out his collar, “but I just want you to talk to me and let me know what’s going on so I don’t expect the worst. Ok?”

“Ok,” he kissed her forehead then her nose before settling on her lips for a soft kiss. He pulled away slightly and she grabbed his collar to pull him back in for a deeper kiss before letting him go.

“Kitten,” he warned, “You know I have to get back to work.” He could barely get the words out between kisses.

“I know, I just miss you.”

“I know and I miss you too. Let’s go out tonight, it’s been a couple weeks since I took you on a proper date.”

“Mr. Udaku are you trying to woo me?” she clutched her nonexistent pearls.

“Yes I am, Ms. Mostafa. Is it working?” He moved in closer and kissed behind her ear and down to her collarbone.

“Mhm, too well.”

He laughed and stood up before reaching out a hand to her. She took it and rose from her seat, giving him a quick peck on the lips. She turned to head back home when she felt a hard slap on her ass.

“T’Challa! You’re in a mood today, too.” She teased.

“Just make sure you are ready at seven,” he commanded with a mischievous look on his face.

“Ewe kumkani wam,” she threw back at him as she twitched her hips on the way out of the room, knowing he was staring. When she left he breathed a sigh of relief and went back to the holographic screen, pulling up a picture of a woman on a throne.

“What are you up to now?” He wondered aloud.

_______

“We need stronger security at our borders, the Nigandans are planning an attack.”

“What proof do you have of this, my king?” The Border tribe elder asked T’Challa. “I have noticed nothing of the sort.”

“Princess Zenzi,” Okoye projected her image into the middle of the throne room as the king spoke. “has been a constant thorn in Wakanda’s side for the past several years. Our wardogs in Niganda have collected intelligence that proves to be suspicious. She has gone underground. That plus the murdered Border tribesmen leads me to believe an attack is imminent.”

The elders all started speaking over eachother.

“Murdered?”

“How is her disappearance proof of anything? Whoever killed our men could have gotten to her, too.”

“How do we know the murderer isn't Wakandan? We cant just go accusing other countries and starting wars, your highness.”

“Enough!” T’Challa’s voice carried through the room. “I am the king and this is merely a courtesy. We will be adding extra security to our borders. Next on the agenda?”

T’Challa had grown tired of trying to convince the council of a threat without proof beyond his panther senses. He didn’t normally like to exert his power over them, but they refused to listen to him.

The meeting continued without incident and even adjourned a little early. T’Challa’s orders regarding security would be put into place immediately, with warriors from every tribe being deployed to the border within the hour. T’Challa stayed in the throne room after everyone left, contemplating what to do next. He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he noticed the shadows were cast in a slightly different direction than when the meeting ended. He shook himself out of his head and left the throne room heading for his quarters to get ready for the night ahead with his woman.

Across town, Ashanti had just started getting ready when there was a knock at the door. She checked the time on her beads, “Huh, this is early even for him.”

She threw on her robe and went downstairs to answer the door since her roommates were staying with their significant others. When she opened the door she was confused at the sight before her.

“What are you doing here?”

Aneka and Ayo, two of T’Challa’s Dora Milaje, stood on her doorstep.

“Sister Ashanti, we have been sent to guard you until the king arrives. There have been some security concerns and he wants to keep you safe.” Ayo said to her.

Ashanti thought back to their conversation earlier and the look on his face when he told her of what was going on. She knew he was worried for her safety so she let them in.

“Make yourself at home, I’m just going to finish getting ready upstairs,” she said as she ran back to her room to put on her outfit and take her hair down from the bantu knots she had been wearing all day. She sang along to one of her new favorite albums as she beat her face, Mariah Carey’s voice providing the perfect soundtrack for the night ahead.

She slipped on her dress and zipped up the back before turning to check herself out in the mirror. However, when she looked up she almost had a heart attack.

“Aneka!” she gasped, “you scared me. Is something wrong?”

Within seconds Aneka was next to Ashanti stabbing a syringe into her neck. The last thing Ashanti remembered before blacking out is the sinister smile on Ayo’s face as she sauntered into the room.

_______

He felt something was wrong the moment he walked up to the door. He called on his suit and went around back, climbing up the wall to get to Ashanti’s window. He slid it open and quietly stepped through. Only the faint smell of her remained...and someone else’s he couldn't quite place. He knew it had to be an inside job because there was no sign of struggle. She let whoever in willingly.

His kimoyo beads went off and he answered quickly, needing to act fast.

“My king-”

“General, Ashanti has been taken. I need a search party to go out immediately to look for her and-”

“My king, it was Ayo and Aneka. They just stole a Dragonflyer and flew out of the shield before we could catch them. We tracked them to Niganda.”

A fire blazed in T’Challa’s stomach. The border attacks had been a misdirect, the real threat was just a few feet away from him the whole time. It was obvious they were working for Zenzi, but why and what purpose did Ashanti serve in all this?

He made his way back to the palace quicker than he ever had before. He knew Shuri was aware of the situation, but he needed in-person backup for what was ahead. He called all the people he knew he needed to ensure the rescue mission was successful, then alerted Ashanti’s parents and had them and her roommates brought to the palace.

M’Baku arrived in an hour, and it would take about 8 hours for Nakia and N’Jadaka to arrive on the Royal Fang. In that time, the four of them along with Shuri,Okoye, and Bucky hatched a plan to find and rescue Ashanti then hopefully bring an end to Zenzi’s reign of terror. The soldier and the prince took the lead on the latter end of the mission, while T’Challa spearheaded the rescue efforts. Shuri had been able to track the Dragonflyer’s exact location to a rainforest on the far side of Niganda and the rest of them moved out.

At the same time, Ashanti woke up with her entire body feeling like it was weighed down by lead. She tried to open her eyes, but everything was blurry. Her head was fuzzy and as the feeling came back to her limbs, she attempted to move. She blinked her eyes and tried to wiggle the pins and needles out of her legs, only to find that they had been restrained. She tried to move her hands and was met with the same resistance. Ashanti panicked and opened her eyes fully to take in her surroundings. What she saw chilled her to the bone.

A woman in green, surrounded by heavily armed men in military uniforms stared up at her from the other side of what looked to be a throne room.

“Oh good, she’s awake. Hello Ashanti, do you know who I am?” asked the woman as she stalked towards her hostage.

“N-no.”

“Luckily for you, I’m feeling nice today and I won’t take offense to that. I am Princess Zenzi of Niganda. You’ve heard of Niganda, right?” she teased.

“Y-yes, it is right next to us, but what do you want with me?”

“Nothing much, you’re just bait,” Zenzi said with a sinister smile creeping up her face.

“Bait? For what?” Ashanti just couldn’t understand what the evil princess would want from her.

Zenzi rolled her eyes at Ashanti’s naivety.

“Your boyfriend. That lovesick idiot is going to bring the whole calvary to come rescue his poor little defenseless girlfriend,” she mocked Ashanti, “and while all his power players are out of the way, my soldiers will sneak in, steal the heart shaped herb and the throne.”

“The people of Wakanda will never accept you as queen!”

“Oh honey, like they’d accept you? Peasant!” Zenzi laughed in her face. “They don’t have to want me as queen, I will simply make them obey.”

“Obey?”

“Yes, child, obey. Is the word foreign to you?”

“N-no ma’am. I just don't under-”

Ashanti was cut off by a splitting pain in her head and a ringing in her ears. She started to hyperventilate as the walls felt like they were closing in.

“Obey me, it is simple.”

The pain grew and her eyes watered before it all subsided and she felt like a shell of herself.

“What was that?” Ashanti cried out, trying to even out her breathing while the aftershocks of the pain still pulsed through her.

“That was how I’m going to take over Wakanda.” she got up to leave before turning back to her armed soldiers. “Break off a little something for me to send the king.”

Ashanti panicked and began to scream.

“Please! No! I-I’ll cooperate I swear to Bast, just-” she was interrupted by the same horrible feeling from earlier. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was a sharp pain in her left hand and Zenzi’s dark laughter.

Ashanti woke up in a different room. This one was dark, damp, and musty. She tried to move but a lingering pain in her head made it almost impossible. She was finally able to push herself up when she felt a throbbing pain in her hand. She looked down and screamed again, her left pinky was gone and all that was left in its wake was a poorly bandaged nub. Ashanti became hysterical and two soldiers came in to get her to stop. Ashanti assumed they would sedate her just like Aneka, but their methods were more hands-on.

When they left, she felt her face begin to swell and felt blood running from a cut on her forehead. It hurt to breathe and it hurt to cry, so Ashanti sat there in complete silence, numbing herself to her surroundings. She knew she had to survive somehow, but the only thing she could do to distract herself and pass the time was sing along in her head to the music she had just been listening to before she was kidnapped.

Somehow I know that

There's a place up above

With no more hurt and struggling

Free of all atrocities and suffering

Because I feel the unconditional love

From one who cares enough for me

To erase all my burdens

And let me be free to

She wasn’t sure how much time she spent in that little windowless room, but it felt like a lifetime. The soldiers returned twice, each time causing more harm until she was barely conscious. After the third time they beat her, she was ready to give up. She closed her eyes and prayed to Bast that she would be taken away, singing to the goddess in her head.

Fly like a bird

Take to the sky

I need you now, Lord

Carry me high

Don't let the world break me tonight

I need the strength of you by my side

Sometimes this life can be so cold

I pray you'll come and carry me home

Can we recover?

Will the world ever be

A place of peace and harmony

With no war and with no brutality?

If we loved each other

We would find victory

But in this harsh reality

Sometimes I'm so despondent

That I feel the need to

Fly like a bird

Take to the sky

I need you now, Lord

Carry me high

Don't let the world break me tonight

I need the strength of you by my side

Sometimes this life can be so cold

I pray you'll come and carry me home

The last things Ashanti heard as she passed out were gunshots and screaming in the distance. She knew Bast had heard her prayers and that she would either be rescued or brought home to the ancestral plane.

_______

Nakia and M’Baku were the first to find her almost lifeless body. He carried her out to the Royal Talon, but was intercepted by a brokenhearted T’Challa.

“Is she-”

“No, there is still a faint pulse, but we have to get her back right now,” Nakia interrupted her friend. The three of them returned to the ship with the rest of their team. The threat had been neutralized and Zenzi had been ambushed on her way into Wakanda, not realizing they expected her to try to grab the throne. She was sedated and placed into a special prison cell that would neutralize her powers.

All was right again, except weeks passed and Ashanti still hadn’t woken up. Her roommates kept her room decorated with her favorite flowers while her parents tried to make her as comfortable as possible. All T’Challa could do was hold her hand and pray to Bast that she woke up. And pray, he did. Every chance he got he would call out to Bast and the Ancestors to watch over her and bring her back to him.

Little did he know, his prayers were working, just not in the way he expected. Ashanti may not have been awake on this plane, but in the ancestral plane she and her grandfather Taj heard every one of T’Challa’s prayers.

“That man loves you, nugget. You should go back to him,” Taj said to Ashanti as they sat by a beautiful lake, watching her hospital room through the magical waters.

“I want to, Umakhulu, but,” she sighed, “it hurts too much still. What if it happens again? Or something worse? I didn’t think about how being with him would put a target on my back. He should have told me!” She broke down crying for the third time that week and Taj simply held her and let her cry.

“I know I need to go back home, but I’m scared.”

“Look at me, Ashanti,” Taj said with a firm yet soft voice. She was shocked, he almost never called her by her name. “You are a Mostafa, you do not run from things, do you hear me? Now, as much as I love having you here with me you and I both know it is not your time. Look at your parents, how worried they are. Those roommates of yours are going to give you allergies with all the pollen they keep bringing into the room-”

Ashanti laughed through her tears and snot.

“-and the king? He would move heaven and earth just to see your eyes open again. You have to go home, nug.”

His words sank in and she knew he was right. She had to go, but she knew things would never be the same. She stared at T’Challa through the water and sighed before wading in.

Back in the plane of the living, T’Challa’s head rested on the side of her bed while he clung to her. His prayer was interrupted by a light squeeze of his hand, and T’Challa lifted his tear-stained face to look at his now awake lover.

“Uthando!” He threw himself across her healed body and pulled her into a hug, tears streaming down his face while he thanked Bast for hearing him. He pulled back when he noticed she wasn’t returning the embrace.

“My love, is something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I-”

“Thank Bast, my baby!” Bisa and Chidi entered the room and ran to their child. She nearly jumped into their arms and the three of them sobbed together. Next to visit were Kwame and Binta, who received a similar greeting. T’Challa couldn’t help but compare her reactions to them with her reaction to him, and then it hit him. She blamed him for the attack, just like he already blamed himself.

Next to visit was the royal family, the princess checking her vitals and making sure all was well.

“My dear, it is so good to have you back with us,” Ramonda said warmly, giving her a hug.

“Yeah, this one here almost drove me crazy asking a million and one questions about your progress every day,” Shuri gestured towards her brother and Ashanti’s eyes dropped. T’Challa saw it happen and it was as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. He wasn’t the only one that noticed.

“Can we have the room, please?” Chidi asked the visitors. One by one they all left, T’Challa lingering a little longer not wanting to leave.

“Go get some rest, dear,” Bisa told him as he left the room, shoulders drooping.

“Now, what was that?” Chidi asked his daughter.

“What was what?” she tried to play coy.

“You barely acknowledged T’Challa the whole time we’ve been in here. He was at your bedside every day, torn up about-“

“Mama, I know. I saw it,” she sighed. They both looked at her, confused.

“You...saw it? How?”

“The ancestral plane. I was there with umakhulu watching through some special lake...it’s hard to explain, but he says hi.”

Chidi and Bisa were dumbstruck.

“But you weren’t dead, how could you go there?”

“I have no idea, Baba.”

“H-how did he look?” Chidi asked about his father, tears in his eyes.

“He looked good. Still called me Nugget...he made me come back.”

“Made you? Baby you didn’t want to come back home?” Bisa asked with concern in her voice.

“No, mama. I’m scared of it happening again.” She hung her head and tears started to fall.

“Oh sithandwa...my intyatyambo...they caught Zenzi, you’re safe now.” Chidi pulled his daughter in close.

“Ok but who else is out there wanting to get to him through me?! I can’t, I just can’t-“ she broke down again and her parents shared an understanding glance. They knew when their daughter made up her mind there was no changing it.

“You can’t what dear?”

“Be with him anymore.”

_______

“Just like that?” N’Jadaka asked his cousin, passing him back his bottle of whiskey.

“Just like that.” T’Challa said drunkenly while he took it to the head. Nakia looked on with concern.

“How many bottles have you had, T’Challa? I didn’t think you could even get this drunk anymore with the herb in your system.” She sat down next to him and he laid his head on her shoulder.

“I stopped counting after the third one.”

Nakia turned her glare on the prince for enabling him.

“And you let him get like this?!”

“Hell yeah. He needs to get drunk and mope around for a little bit then he’ll get back to normal in no time.”

Nakia could’ve slapped him.

“N’Jadaka,” she started while holding the bridge of her nose, “you weren’t here when we broke up or when he broke up with Ororo or when Monica dumped him...this isn’t how you deal with heartbroken T’Challa.”

She snatched the bottle out of his hand and went to pour it down the sink. T’Challa tried to stop her but his motor skills weren’t good enough.

“No, no, no, that’s good whiskey!”

“Too late. Now get up.”

“Nakia I don’t think-“

“Nope, zip it. No more from you, prince. Let’s go Challa.”

“But-“

“Don’t make me call Queen Mother on you.”

He shot up and immediately regretted it, teetering on his heels as the room spun.

“Woah, I don’t like this,” he slurred.

“Yeah, no shit. Come on.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To visit your sister. N’Jadaka, a little help?”

The three of them made their way to Shuri’s lab and the moment he saw her he broke out of their hold.

“Usisi!” He wrapped her in a bear hug and she could smell the alcohol on him as stared wide-eyed at Nakia and N’Jadaka.

“Is he-”

They both nodded as T’Challa booped Shuri’s nose and fell out laughing. N’Jadaka was trying really hard to keep a straight face at the whole situation.

“Shuri is there something you can do to sober him up? It's the middle of the day and he still has things on his schedule,” Nakia worried about her friend, who had wandered to a table and laid down.

“I can, but it’ll take a while. It might be better to just have N’Jadaka run things today.”

The two women shared a look of dread before turning to the prince who had a smile on his face.

“Oh come on, I’m not gonna ruin the country again. On Bast.”

“Yes, well since I wont be assisting you this time I’ll appoint Nakia in my absence.”

N’Jadaka sucked his teeth in annoyance but agreed. He and Nakia were cordial and worked together well, but never got along outside of work. Probably because he’s still hung up on the fact that Nakia’s girlfriend Janelle used to be in his rotation back in the day.

“Aight, fine. Damn, you kill the king once and that’s all anybody can talk about…” he continued mumbling under his breath. The women rolled their eyes and turned back to each other.

“Ok so now that we got that set- awww look at him. Ew nevermind, he’s drooling,” Shuri said while watching her brother take a nap on the operating table.

“Shuri, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“Not even when Monica dumped him?” Shuri asked her friend and one-time almost sister-in-law.

“Nope.”

“Who is this Monica chick?”

“Long story,” they responded in unison.

“Aight well, if y’all have this handled I have a council meeting to run so...deuces.”

N’Jadaka jogged up the ramp as the two women said goodbye and Nakia followed after him. Shuri turned to her brother and sighed. She knew why he was like this, not only had he been dumped, but he blamed himself for the whole situation. He felt he should’ve seen the misdirect coming earlier, focusing the military efforts on the borders instead of fishing out potential spies. He felt guilty that two of his own trusted Dora Milaje had been brainwashed by Zenzi’s powers and forced into servitude. He felt guilty that his love faced unspeakable violence while held hostage. Most importantly, he blamed himself for not getting to her house in time to protect her.

Shuri let him sleep and hooked him up to an IV to sober him up. He slept for about three hours before he began to stir.

“Sis- ah!” His head felt like it was splitting down the middle and his mouth felt like he had swallowed cotton. She dimmed the lights before handing him a glass of water.

“According to your blood alcohol levels you drank six bottles of whiskey. Six. Are you trying to harm yourself? So help me Bast, I will strap you to this tab-”

“Calm down sister, I just lost count after the third one. I don’t want to harm myself, just drown my sorrows.”

“Yes, well find a healthier way. If you end up here like this again you won’t like the result,” she said with a finality in her voice that made T’Challa shiver. “Can you walk?”

T’Challa slowly slid off the table, testing his balance before standing upright.

“Good, now get out. I was busy,” she said with a playful smirk on her face. The king made his way over to his sister before kissing her cheek and slowly heading up the ramp and out of her lab.

When she was sure he was gone, she pulled up Ashanti’s contact information and called her on her kimoyo beads. Within seconds, Ashanti’s 3-D projected form was in the palm of her hand.

“Shuri! How are you?” Ashanti was surprised to hear from the princess, but excited nonetheless. The two had grown close in her time with T’Challa and she missed Shuri’s sense of humor.

“I am well, or at least I was until a few hours ago. Are you sure about your decision, Ashanti? He is not taking it well.”

Ashanti looked down, grieving the loss of their relationship. Shuri, I love him. I do, but I can’t live looking over my shoulder. I found a therapist, but Shuri I can’t unsee and unfeel what was done to me, and being with your brother paints a giant target on my back. I just can’t-” she fought to hold back tears.

“I understand. I mean, I don't, but I do. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Got an extra pinky lying around somewhere?”

The two laughed, lightening the mood.

“I don’t, but I could make you one. I made a whole arm a couple years ago, I can handle a pinky. Do you want it to look real or robotic?”

“Real, please. I can’t be walking around here looking like a cyborg, I don't know how Bucky does it.”

“You’ve got it, I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, sister.”

‘Shuri-”

“Aht, you will always be my sister.”

Ashanti smiled and waved goodbye to the teenager before ending the call.

Next chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa #t'challa x oc #black!oc #playlist #smut #angst

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