#sharp teeth ??? yes. I also think he deserves to have at the very least slightly pointed ears but that’s between me and god | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aceinspace691 · 3 years ago

Note

maybe 50 with smol tommy and big techno?

tommy has a bad nightmare of the human he used to live with and techno needs to console him? idk i kinda think it would be cool

I’m so sorry that this took so long! I hope you enjoy! I kind of wrote more than I needed to but hey here ya go haha... I’m working on other ones but it might take a while for those as well. I’m super busy looking for apartments and working currently...

Prompts from here!

Warnings for mild Stockholm taking root, injuries, fear, threats, treating someone as inferior, keeping a person as a pet (Let me know if I missed any!) Word Count ~1500

-----There Will Come a Day-----

“Oh, Theseus!” Shivers shot down his spine and he pressed himself against the back of the cage fearfully as the human entered the room. The name was given to him for trying to be a hero, but in the end, he’d just been caught himself. The smile the human gave the borrower was sickening and it felt paralyzing. “I had a really awful day at work, and I need to destress.” The cage door squeaked open and fingers reached forward and wrapped around his middle. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Tommy shook his head, though he knew it wasn’t really a question. He’d learned a long time ago that his opinion didn’t matter, and that struggling only made everything worse. But that was okay.

After all, he was Dream’s.

He was the property of the blond who liked to wear that stupid smiley mask and squeeze him a bit too tightly. Of the human who had been kind enough to give him food and shelter. He’d been told several times that he was lucky to be Dream’s.

There could have been a worse human that found him, he’d been told. That another human might have killed him and not have graciously befriended the borrower and kept him safe. Maybe, at the beginning, Tommy might have disagreed and fought, but now, after several months at least, he’d lost his fight and will to get away.

The fingers around him shifted and fidgeted with his limbs, though they didn’t do much to the wings stuffed under his shirt. Fingers rolled his arm absently as the human crossed the room to sit at his desk, tapping away with his other hand on the computer. The fingers around him squeezed every now and then, mostly bearable.

But one squeeze was particularly tight and it forced the air out of Tommy’s fragile lungs. A sound came with it, and his body instinctively pushed at the tight grip around him.

He realized his mistake a moment later as the clacking of keys stopped and he froze, feeling himself be moved and set down on the desk. The human clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Theseus..” dissatisfaction dripped from the human’s lips, and he was scowling, Tommy could see it from the way the human/s lips quirked downward.

“I-I’m sorry, Dream,” the boy stuttered out, trying not to choke on his fear, “I, um, I didn’t mean to! The grip was just a bit too tight and I--”

A sharp, disbelieving laugh left the human. Tommy flinched. “I had a bad day. I told you that already, didn’t I?” Tommy didn’t respond, didn’t think that’s what Dream actually wanted.

He was wrong. A fist slammed down on the desk inches from Tommy, shaking the surface horribly and making Tommy fall. He stared up at the human with wide eyes filled with fear.

“I asked you a question, Theseus.” The human’s teeth were visible, clenched and Tommy shuddered. “When I ask a question, you answer, got it?” Tommy gave a series of rapid, frantic nods, arms curled close to his chest in panic. “Good.”

The human gave a sigh and leaned back, the anger from before still buzzing around Tommy, though the human seemed more relaxed. Tommy trembled with adrenaline, his nerves shot.

“Now, like I was saying. I had a bad day, and I told you that when I rescued you from your cage today, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” It took everything in Tommy to not flinch as a finger reached forward and gave him a rough pat of approval on his head. He hated that he craved the validation and warmth that was evident in Dream’s smile that appeared.

“Good boy!” He praised, scooping Tommy into his palms, the latter remaining motionless. “But I do think it’s kind of selfish of you to make this about you, don’t you?”

Dread pooled in his stomach and he swallowed fearfully. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad you agree, though I think you still need to be punished...” The human trailed off, pinching one of Tommy’s arms between his fingers. Tommy’s breath hitched. “But maybe you could change my mind?”

Tommy immediately fell into an incoherent babble of apologies and pleading. Saying he was so sorry and that he’d do better. Pleading for his tormentor friend not to hurt him. A part of him deep down knew that it did no good, but maybe it would lessen the punishment.

“Not good enough, Theseus,” Dream tsked.

Tommy didn’t have time to register the words before the human pulled and a blinding pain filled him. He was screaming, he realized, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Theseus?”

Tommy tried to quiet himself and only succeeded slightly.

“Tommy!”

Tommy jolted awake in a dark room, the cold of his cage under him. He could see a silhouette that was barely outlined by the moonlight behind it. He scrambled back as a hand reached in, a panicked chirp leaving him.

He pressed his hands against his mouth, trying to muffle his whimpers as the human paused. Then it was reaching for him, and it gently scooped him out and brought him closer to the human before Tommy registered, shouting in fear.

“Dream, please!” He cried, body wracking with trembles as he curled close to himself, cradling his injured arm to his chest. “I didn’t mean to, please, just, please!”

“Hey,” A voice was saying, deep and monotonous, “hey, kid. You’re okay, no one’s gonna hurt you here.” A finger brushed up and down his arm.

That didn’t make sense. Even when Dream soothed him after he was punished, he wasn’t this gentle. Dream always said it in a patronizing way. This person sounded... genuine.

His breath sounded loud in his ears and he made a hesitant, daring move to look up at the human.

Now that his eyes had adjusted more, he could see the long, pale pink hair of the human in the moonlight. No smiling mask. A concerned expression, that he could see.

“Technoblade...?” He winced at how rough and quiet his voice came out. He sounded pathetic.

“Hey, kid. That’s right.” The vague praise and warmth in the voice sent pleasant shivers down his spine. “You back with me?”

Tommy nodded, then remembered himself with another wince. “Yes, sir.”

“Just Techno is fine,” the voice reminded him gently, yet Tommy still stiffened a bit, “you’re okay, kid.”

Tommy bit back the urge to tell the human that he wasn’t a kid, that he was a big man, but instead he simply nodded. Techno resumed the motion from before, trying to further soothe Tommy as he gently rubbed his arm.

Moments of silence stretched, and Techno broke it first.

“So, uh, before... you were makin’ like, bird sounds.” Techno didn’t notice how Tommy had stiffened. “Are you... an avian hybrid, by chance?”

“No!” Tommy blurted, the wings beneath his shirt flaring and giving him away.

“Kid, I can see your wings under there.” Tommy choked on a sob as he flinched away from the finger, pressing his forehead to the leathery skin of the hand he was on. He tried to show his apology in his very posture. “Kid..?”

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Technoblade!” Tommy trembled, keeping his head down despite the uncomfortable warmth. A panicked trill rose in his throat and he just barely suppressed it. “Please, sir, do what you want with anything but the wings, anything but the wings, please!”

It was hard to focus, and he had to strain to hear the gentle murmuring hums of the human holding him. Calming him down. Being patient. and kind, and too good for the likes of him.

“Shhh, hey, hey,” the gentle touch was back, this time just barely brushing over his wings through his thin shirt, almost hesitantly, “you deserve love. You didn’t deserve what Dream did to you. And I’m never, ever going to hurt you. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just asked because Phil is also one. You’re safe here, Tommy.”

“But, I, I lied. And I’m annoying, so...”

“Tommy.” The voice was firm now, and Tommy tensed. “Look at me.”

And he did. He looked up slowly, and saw how intently Technoblade was looking at him in the darkness, the dim light of the moon. He swallowed thickly.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again.” Techno told him with the most serious, earnest expression that Tommy had seen so far. “How many times do I need to tell you before you believe it?”

Tommy winced, opening his mouth to apologize, but Techno just shook his head slightly. And Tommy finally started to understand, a spark of his old self reigniting within him. Techno gave him a small smile in the moonlight, following up his previous question.

“Because I’ll remind you and prove it to you as many times as I need to.”

#mcytgt #ace writes #anon ask #ace answers #tiny!tommy #giant!dream #giant!techno #prompt game #the insomnia strikes again #its 4am why am i awake #hope you guys like this #i crave validation /hj

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years ago

Text

When It Pulls Me Under (Will You Make Me Stronger?)

also on ao3

written for the Monster March prompt list

From the moment he sees the notice, Geralt is horrified. The description of the man is far too familiar, the details piercing through the thick protective walls he's been building around himself.

There is a group of men gathered around the signboard, picking up flyers and huddling around one in particular. A contract on a man possessed. It sounds like an old wive’s tale and most of the men are surely there to pick up an easy coin on what they think is a drunk roaming the town. Geralt knows better.

Demonic possession isn't common, but he's seen it before. He's fought them and sent them back to the otherworld they come from. Only this time, the man they describe, the one thought to be possessed, is Jaskier. Geralt is certain of it.

It's been months since they've seen each other, but the way they parted, Jaskier's whole demeanour, his expression- if he truly felt the way he looked on the top of that mountain, the way he felt, he'd be much more susceptible to possession.

And it's Geralt's fault.

He shoves through the crowd, grabbing the notice from a gruff-looking man with a black beard. A few of them shout and shove, but when they look up at him, all fall silent. One or two slink away, knowing they're no match for a Witcher, especially in this field, but most of them watch him in stunned silence. They reek of fear, and for once Geralt is glad for it. He doesn't want anyone getting involved and mucking this up. It's been a long time since their parting on the mountain and he can only hope the demon hasn't taken hold of Jaskier completely.

It's rare that Geralt has full faith in any notice or request for a Witcher, but as he folds the paper and tucks it into his jerkin, he's certain.

The request says to speak to the local blacksmith, so that's where Geralt heads first. He doesn't know what to expect, nor is he particularly looking forward to what he'll find, but he needs to know. Jaskier was- is important to him and if he can help in any way, he'll be happy to. Demons can and will eventually take over their host body, leaving the host all but dead, unable to move and think for themself, and Geralt would rather let the thing possess him than let that happen to Jaskier.

The blacksmith says exactly what Geralt was expecting; a foppish, well-dressed man with a bright smile. He'd killed four already in town, and there were rumours of cases in surrounding towns and villages as well. All people betrayed. Like Jaskier was betrayed by him.

He spends the remainder of the day gathering any information he can from the locals and rents a room at the inn. It's more for Jaskier once he's finished than it is for himself, but it gives him someone to keep his things when he's not needing them. And it gives him an excuse for a warm meal and an ale - not that he thinks he deserves either.

Because all of this is his fault. Four people are dead, likely more, and Jaskier risks losing his own life if he's not quick enough - all because Geralt fucked up so many months ago.

He never wanted to push Jaskier away. If anything, after losing Yen, he wanted to bring him closer, hold him closer, know that someone at least was still there for him. But everyone leaves eventually - Yen had only proven that - so why not make it sooner rather than later. Why fall further in love only to have him ripped away later anyway, if not by choice, then by the brutal mortality of a human.

He shakes his head, looks down at his stew, but he's not hungry any longer. Pushing the bowl aside, Geralt empties his mug and rises from the table. He has to get started or he'll lose his mind lingering here, even if there's not much to go off yet. He'll just have to wait.

The last murder took place just at the back of the grain farm, so Geralt sets himself up there, waiting. It's late before there's any sign of anything, and when he does show up, Geralt smells him before he sees him. He stinks of fear and betrayal and loathing and Geralt wants to run so he doesn't have to see the pain on his pace, so he doesn't have to face what he's done. But he knows better now. Jaskier deserves better. And he has a job to do. More people will die if he doesn't take care of this now.

Luckily (or not) Jaskier spots him too, sauntering over like he doesn't have a care in the world. Only Geralt can tell immediately that it's not Jaskier. The movements are too fluid for a human body, the way he holds himself just slightly off.

The demon approaches knowing full well who Geralt is, what he's there for, and it steps right up to him, the smug smirk on its face a mockery.

"Well, Witcher," it says in Jaskier's voice, "didn't expect to see me, did you?"

"You're not him," Geralt says calmly, keeping his voice as steady as he can manage. "You reek of your own plane, I'd know you weren't him in an instant"

"Oh, but I am," it purrs, "your bard is in here... somewhere, but he's sleeping. It's all me now."

Geralt grits his teeth. He knows that isn't true. His medallion trembles against his chest and he can smell the scent of ozone and sulphur but, he knows Jaskier is still in there. He's fought against demons who have completely consumed their host and they aren't like this.

"Get out of him," he warns, knowing full well there's nothing he can do. He needs to bring Jaskier to the surface, needs Jaskier to be the one to push the demon from his body. Any harm Geralt can do risks harm to Jaskier as well.

"I don't think I will," it shrugs. "I like this body. Everyone likes this body. It's so easy to get close to them, to lull them into a sense of security and then-"

"Enough!" Geralt growls, "I know what you've been doing with his body! I'm here to put an end to it."

"Mmm, sure you are. And how do you intend to do that without harming your poor, precious bard?"

He doesn't know. The last time they saw each other, Geralt was furious and Jaskier was... if he had to put a word to it, he'd say he was devastated. The last person he'll want to see is Geralt and without time to find someone he will react to... Geralt doesn't break eye contact. He has to try something.

It's a long shot, even for him, but he mumbles the beginning notes from memory; he's heard them often enough to know the whole damn song by heart. If anything could bring Jaskier back, it's his music.

But he hums a little and there's no response. Again, and there's no response. So he thinks back to a night he spent at a tavern, to a bright-eyed bard with curly blonde hair. She had announced the song as belonging to Jaskier, but Geralt didn't recognize it, but it was emotional. And he understood at once who it was intended for. Clearing his throat, he tries out the words,

"The fairer sex, they often call it-"

The demon laughs and mocks him, but Geralt doesn't relent, singing as much as he can recall from that night. And when he runs out of words, his chest aches and he moves instinctively, reaching out to grab Jaskier's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and the body under his hand jolts. It's so brief he would miss it were he human, but it happens, and when he looks up, there's clarity behind those blue eyes, recognition.

"Jaskier!" he exclaims and Jaskier's whole demeanour shifts.

"Geralt?" he asks, groggy, confused.

"Yes! Yes, it's me. Jaskier, are you-" there's a gurgling groan and Jaskier stiffens again.

"I don't think so," the demon's voice comes, taunting and sharp. "You had a chance. You left him, right? Your choice. So he's mine now." There's a choking sound and a growl that could rival that of a wolf and Jaskier's limbs loosen again.

Geralt reaches for him immediately and Jaskier slumps forward into his arms, panting.

"'S hard to fight," he mumbles and Geralt tugs him forward, helps him straighten up.

"How did you do that?" Geralt huffs, meeting Jaskier's eyes again as they stand up straight.

"Heard you," he offers a small smile, "knew you must have come to help. Geralt, I didn't mean to- I didn't want this-"

"I know. Jaskier, I know. It took advantage, it's my fault."

"No, I should have known better than to think you'd-"

Geralt doesn't think before winding his arms around him and pulling Jaskier into a warm embrace. He holds him close and presses his nose into Jaskier's neck.

"Not your fault," he mumbles. "I never wanted you to think you were unwanted, that I didn't care-"

"Geralt," Jaskier says, pulling back out of his arms, "what are you saying?"

Unthinking, Geralt leans forward, catching Jaskier's lips in a desperate kiss. His mouth tastes of sulphur and ash, but he pushes past that, feeling Jaskier soft and real under his hands. He's human, Geralt reminds himself, this can be expelled. And even as Jaskier pulls back again, a look of shock on his face, he seems brighter, his skin a little less pale.

"Geralt," he whispers, "what-" Geralt tips forward, their noses bumping together in the proximity.

"Can you hold it?" he asks. "You broke free from its hold, can you keep that control?"

"It's hard."

"I need you to try," Geralt breathes, shutting his eyes. "I can't help you, Jaskier, you need to expel it yourself."

"How?" he asks, panicky.

"Hold on to something. It was able to take hold because you were weak, right? Because of what I said?

"Geralt-"

"You need to be strong, find something and hold onto that, show it that it has no place in your body any longer. What helped you break free the first time?"

Jaskier suddenly goes very quiet, ducks his head so he's not looking at Geralt.

"I heard your voice," he admits, "and I've been hoping, gods Geralt, I've been so desperate to see you again, to make sure you're okay that nothing has finally-" he cuts himself off and Geralt nods quietly. He understands.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, "hold on to me, then. Focus on me, on my hands, on my voice." He kisses him again and Jaskier lets out a soft sound, wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck and holding him close.

He kisses him like he's dying for it and Geralt thinks grimly that it's an apt comparison. But he'll take it. He'll do anything to get this thing out of Jaskier, to have Jaskier back at his side like he used to be. To maybe be given a chance for what he really wants.

He puts all of his energy into kissing Jaskier, running his hands over his body, proving to him that he cares, that he's here now even if he hasn't been. That he's coming back to take him away from this darkness. His hands slip under Jaskier's doublet, tangling in the soft linen of his shirt and he clings to him.

Jaskier makes a soft sound and presses forward fitting against him like that's where he belongs and Geralt wants so badly to believe that he does. That all of this can be fixed, after all. Fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly and Geralt can't help the little groan that escapes him, but it only seems to push Jaskier on.

Jaskier draws back, nipping at Geralt's lip and when he pulls back completely, he's panting, his cheeks flushed and bright with colour.

"How do you feel?" Geralt asks and Jaskier tips forward, brushing his lips against Geralt's neck.

"Good. Stronger than I have in months. Geralt, I have a thought. What if... if you're what I need to fight it off what if you- if we-"

"Anything," Geralt hums, "anything to get it out of you."

Jaskier leans in, pressing his lips to the shell of Geralt's ear. "Fuck me," he whispers and Geralt nearly stumbles at the request.

"Jask-"

"I need you," he whispers, "Geralt, I want you. I've always wanted you and you- you can give me that now and I'll never bother you again, but please."

"Okay," Geralt huffs, "okay, but not because I need to. Jaskier, I... want you, too. That's why I'm here, now."

"Say it again," Jaskier whispers.

"I want you."

"Mmm. Again."

"Jaskier," Geralt repeats, slipping his hands down to the small of his back and tugging him forward, "I love you. I want you. I will do anything to get you free of this thing." He lifts him off his feet and there's no hesitation. It feels like Jaskier's body would appear to anyone else that he's alone in it now, but Geralt knows better. He knows Jaskier can't keep this up forever, that the bond between them is the only thing keeping the demon at bay.

Geralt finds a spot near the treeline and kneels down in a patch of clover. He tugs his cloak off and lays it out as well as he can, spreading it out with one hand before laying Jaskier down on it. It feels somewhat like handling a bomb, afraid that one wrong move could shift Jaskier's control and he could lose him again. Geralt may be what he's clinging to to pull himself back, but he's also the reason Jaskier was so low in the first place. He thinks, briefly, that it's a good thing his emotional stability is not what's keeping Jaskier safe or they'd be fucked.

Jaskier settles himself and reaches up for him, fingers slipping around his neck and Geralt moves over him, dropping onto his elbows. He noses at Jaskier's neck, kissing behind his head and down to the crook of his shoulder, gently lifting his shirt and doublet out of the way as they interfere. His heart is pounding and he's never felt so out of his depth with Jaskier before, but he can't fuck this up. If he fucks this up-

Soft hands come to settle on his face and he's aware of Jaskier's voice, but it's foggy, like a dream. Geralt's body moves as though on its own, working open the clasps on Jaskier's doublet and lifting the shirt up over his head. He runs his fingers through dark chest hair, stopping over a freshly healed scar. It snaps the last of his focus and Geralt curls his hand into a fist, pressed firmly over Jaskier's head.

He doesn't realize he's trembling until Jaskier pushes him up, rolls him onto his side.

"Hey," he breathes, and Geralt's eyes snap up to his. "Hey, it's just me. It's... quiet right now, thanks to you." Jaskier climbs onto him, straddling his thighs, and for a split second, Geralt is terrified he's fucked up, that the demon is in control and this is Jaskier's revenge on him.

But his medallion only lightly shakes against his chest and Jaskier's touch is soft and reassuring. So Geralt steadies himself, allows Jaskier to undress him and tries to focus on the touch of him. But he should be doing more, he should be- He doesn't realize he's speaking out loud until Jaskier interrupts him with a pointed kiss that lingers longer, Geralt suspects, than intended.

"You don't have to do anything," Jaskier breathes against him, "it, er- it's actually better being able to touch you. I- well, Geralt you must know that I've wanted you."

"Yeah..." he replies slowly, "Jaskier, I-

"Shh," Jaskier hums, "if you really think this will help, let's just get rid of this thing first."

Jaskier reaches down with one hand, easily pulling Geralt's trousers open and slipping a hand inside, wrapping around his cock. It feels good and he's thought about this more times than he can remember, but he can't settle, and even Jaskier's hand around him, fingers slipping up the length of him, fails to get him hard. He squirms and bucks, trying to get his body to cooperate, to no avail.

He feels the shift when it happens, like a shudder in the air and he knows Jaskier is slipping. His medallion shakes and Geralt pulls Jaskier's hand from his cock, settling his hands on his sides.

"It's not your fault," he whispers, "it's not you."

"Geralt, you don't have to-"

"I know. I want to, I just- I don't know what's wrong."

"You're in your head," Jaskier says simply, "you're always so... locked up up there. Maybe we shouldn't."

Geralt shuts his eyes and pulls Jaskier against him. Jaskier settles and Geralt pushes one hand up his spine, curling around the back of his neck. The other moves down, following the same line toward his lower back to cup his ass. He pushes Jaskier's hips forward and there's a soft little groan against his neck and he can feel the press of Jaskier's cock, hard against Geralt's hip.

"I still want you," Geralt whispers. The words feel stilted on his tongue, but there isn't time for him to worry about how he sounds or what Jaskier thinks of him because he's not the one at risk here. He reaches into the pouch on his thigh, fumbling with the bottles until he finds the one he's looking for.

There's not a lot of oil left, but it's the only one he has that he would risk putting on Jaskier's skin. Tentatively, he pushes Jaskier's trousers down, slipping his fingers between his cheeks. Jaskier's breath catches and Geralt can hear the thudding of his heartbeat, smell the scent of arousal drifting between them, but he's so worried about fucking this up. Jaskier's life could be in danger if the demon gets hold again.

"Okay?" he asks and Jaskier hums his confirmation into his neck, nosing under his jaw. Geralt hurriedly uncorks the bottle, and slicks his fingers, pushing back again and Jaskier shudders as they brush over his hole. Even Geralt shudders at the touch and he presses forward eagerly.

Jaskier opens for him easily, allowing two fingers inside him quickly. He fumbles to get his trousers undone, letting his cock slip free and peek out, rubbing against Geralt's skin. Pre-come eases the way as he rocks his hips in time with Geralt's fingers and Geralt's cock stirs.

Jaskier shifts, lifting himself to push back onto Geralt's fingers and then settling again so his cock sits alongside Geralt's. His hips twitch hard as Geralt's fingers brush his prostate and Geralt groans at the sensation. He readjusts his own position, shifting his torso so he can press deeper, bumping against his prostate with every thrust.

He keeps a steady pace going, one hand remaining on Jaskier's neck to brace him, even as Jaskier slumps against him, rutting mindlessly and nipping at his neck. He looks beautiful like this, feels incredible, and Geralt should be able to muster more than a twinge of arousal, but all he feels is scared.

Scared that this won't work, that he's taking advantage, that once this is done - if it is successful - Jaskier won't want anything to do with him again. He uses that emotion to push through, fucking into him until Jaskier's thighs shake around him and then, with a quick thrust, Jaskier's coming.

He shakes and shudders, hips jerking erratically and Geralt holds him with one hand, fucking him through it with the other. He's aware of Jaskier whispering in his ear, but he's too focused on the medallion, now shaking violently against his chest.

Then, just as abruptly as it started, it stops and Jaskier slumps.

Geralt holds his breath, withdrawing his hand and wrapping both arms around Jaskier's shoulders. He listens for a pulse, for the sound of breath and for a moment, there's nothing. Geralt shuts his eyes. He doesn't believe in any gods, nor destiny, but he pleads to them now, not to let Jaskier be taken from him, not for his words, not for his mistakes.

Just when Geralt thinks he's lost him, Jaskier inhales sharply against his neck, gives a soft grunt of protest and shifts to get comfortable. He doesn't wake and Geralt doesn't let him go, clinging tightly to him.

Jaskier doesn't wake until late that evening. They're back at the inn and Geralt's had a bath drawn and food brought up for them both, but he hasn't been able to eat. He'd cleaned them both up in the field, dressed Jaskier as well as he could manage and brought him back here. Since then, he's been pacing the room. For hours. When Jaskier stirs, Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin. He's at the bedside in an instant, on his knees next to him.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks, confused. He's still a little woozy and Geralt doesn't know how much he'll wind up remembering.

"I'm here."

"How did I-" he eyelids flutter a little, "Geralt, did we-"

"Shh, relax. I'll tell you everything after you have a bath and something to eat." He reaches out, resting a hand on Jaskier's chest and Jaskier's hand comes up to cover it, slipping his fingers between Geralt's. His eyes fall shut again.

"You didn't get to come," he mumbles and Geralt huffs a laugh despite himself.

"It doesn't matter," Geralt breathes, leaning in and tentatively laying his head on Jaskier's stomach. "You're okay and that's all that matters." Jaskier's free hand curls around to push his fingers through Geralt's hair and he sighs softly.

"Later then," Jaskier says, "you can join me in the bath and I'll make you come."

#geraskier #demonic possession #monster march #spicy #nsft #rex writes

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years ago

Text

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Read on AO3

By the time Claire and Jamie pulled themselves together and made themselves presentable, the sun was nearly gone, and Jenny was nowhere to be found in the house. Claire was grateful for that; Jamie said he didn’t want to talk to her about anything until he spoke to John first, made sure he was alright. Claire had offered to give them time to talk alone before she joined them, though she secretly thanked the Lord when Jamie turned this down.

“Anything said between John and I is also between you and I. And him, I suppose,” he’d said. “I want ye by my side.”

So they crept silently through the house and up the stairs, lest they alert anyone of their presence. Claire made a note to check in with Brianna later, and she prayed she didn’t have any questions.

They paused outside of the room John had been put up in, and Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand, subconsciously, she thought, as if he needed the strength. She squeezed back and smiled reassuringly, nodding. Breathing deeply, Jamie lifted his free hand, and knocked.

The door opened slowly to reveal a shockingly put together John; not a hair out of place from where it was tied at the nape of his neck, not a wrinkle in his clothing. His red coat was gone, and he wore a finely trimmed waistcoat. The only evidence of anything wrong was his eyes: red rimmed and slightly puffy, like he’d only recently stopped crying.

“Good evening,” he said formally, stiffly. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Can we come in, John?” Jamie said. “I believe there is much to be said.”

John grimaced, as if that was the last thing he was hoping for. “Quite.”

He stepped aside, opening the door wider for the Frasers to step through, then shut it behind him. John moved to the window, sitting on the sill. “I’d been admiring the view before you knocked,” he said. “Such beautiful land.”

Claire sat slowly on the trunk at the foot of the bed, gently pulling on Jamie’s hand to get him to join her.

“I’m...very sorry for my sister’s behavior,” Jamie began. “She was unforgivably rude. Ye dinna deserve that treatment. I welcomed ye into my home, and ye were abused. I’m sorry, a charaid.”

John finally turned his body away from the window and looked at Jamie. “It’s quite alright.”

“It isn’t,” Claire cut in. “I can see how hurt you are. The things she said were deeply hurtful. And she will not be easily forgiven by either of us.”

John pursed his lips. “I...appreciate your caring for my honor.”

“Of course,” Claire said fervently. “We’re friends.”

“Are we?” John challenged gently. “Have you not come here to interrogate my intentions with your husband?”

Claire stiffened a bit and blinked rapidly. “No. Not at all.”

“Claire kens yer intentions,” Jamie cut in.

“I told you that nothing happened,” John said, ignoring Jamie. “I thought you understood.”

“I do,” Claire said quickly. “I believed you. I still do.”

“Then why couldn’t you wipe that disgust off your face the entire time Jamie’s sister made those accusations?”

Claire fought the urge to recoil; this was the first time all day she had seen Lord John anywhere close to angry. His jaw was hard, his mouth a thin line, his blue eyes sharp and piercing. She felt that anger to her core, like a pricking needle.

“I...I didn’t mean…”

“No, of course you didn’t,” he said forgivingly, but his defensive stance remained. “You could hardly be expected to school your features when your suspicions were validated by another person.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, to insist she’d had no such suspicions...but she’d have been lying. She truly hadn’t noticed her face had changed in the slightest. All she remembered feeling was horror at the scene playing out before her.

“Any...suspicions Claire may have had were borne out of concern for me,” Jamie said. “She doesna think ill of ye, truly.”

“She thinks ill enough of me to think I ever meant you harm.”

Claire swallowed thickly. “That’s...not what I thought.”

John’s eyes darted to her, and she wanted to run away and hide from them.

“I’d only ever thought of you abstractly,” Claire began. “You were just this...idea of a hero who saved my husband and brought a family together. I hadn’t had to confront the reality of you being a real man...with real feelings.” Jamie squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. “Then you were here, looking at my husband like that, speaking fondly of your time together when he was locked away from me...and it was very...difficult to come to terms with.”

John seemed to reign in some of his rage as he nodded. “I understand.”

“It seems...absurd to be jealous of my husband’s jailer…” She rolled her eyes self consciously. “But I suppose that’s what I am. And everything Jenny said about seeing Jamie...return those affections just...had me spiraling.”

“There’s nothing to fear there, my dear,” John said darkly, but not without humor. “He does not return anything but friendship.”

Claire glanced sidelong at Jamie, who was staring at the floor between his feet. John jerked in shock.

“What?” he demanded.

Claire bit her tongue. She would not speak for Jamie on this matter, could not.

But the truth screamed at her, even if Jamie himself hadn’t admitted it to even her.

“You don’t. Do you?”

Jamie clenched his teeth.

“Answer me, damn it. I have asked so little of you. All I am asking is an answer. A true answer.”

Claire was frozen, could not even bring herself to squeeze Jamie’s hand to snap him out of it.

“I can’t,” Jamie finally said. “I’m a married man.”

“That’s not what I asked.” John sat up straighter, palms on his knees. “I said do you. Not can you.”

He didn’t answer.

“Jamie,” Claire whispered hoarsely.

“I’m sorry,” John said tightly. “Forget it. Please.”

“Jamie.”

“No, Claire.” John’s voice went up in pitch, as if in panic. “I don’t…” He shook his head, then ran a hand over his hair. “I don’t want to know.”

A single tear rolled down Claire’s cheek. She supposed that John knew the truth, then, as well.

How wrong was it for Claire to be grateful? She thought perhaps the only reason that Jamie wouldn’t admit the truth to himself was because of his trauma. He’d not do it to spare her; he would at least be truthful to her even if he never acted on his feelings or urges out of fidelity. But, God, what would she do if Jamie had no misgivings about men like John? What would she do if Jamie was staring at him like he wanted to devour him whole?

What would she do if Jamie walked right to the windowsill and kissed him, granted himself something he had long denied himself?

She knew enough to know that this would not affect his love for her. Not at all. But Claire did not think she was capable of sharing Jamie’s heart.

But it felt wrong to be grateful to his trauma.

And either way...perhaps she was already sharing it.

She’d never know.

After a long, terrible silence, John cleared his throat and stood up. “Whisky, anyone?”

Without any answer, he poured three glasses and walked over with two, holding them out to Jamie and Claire.

“We haven’t yet played chess,” John said when neither of them took the glasses right away. “There’s a board right in this room. I admit I’ve never had an audience, but one as lovely as your wife would be most welcome.” Claire allowed a tiny smile, unable to resist his genuine, sweet attempts at returning to normalcy. “What do you say, my friend?”

Only then did Jamie look up, smiling, to Claire’s surprise. He took the glass and stood, taking Claire with him.

“Aye,” Jamie spoke for the first time in a long while, a playful smirk on his face. “Allow me to remind ye how it’s done, Grey.”

——

After a great many games of chess, a great deal of whisky, and a great amount of laughter, Claire sitting on the arm of Jamie’s chair all the while, the Frasers bid John goodnight and stumbled rather drunkenly to their own bedrooms. Jenny and Ian were forgotten for the moment.

“Brianna…” Claire said breathlessly as Jamie kissed her neck against their bedroom door. “I should...check on her…”

“It’s late,” Jamie reasoned, grazing his teeth on her skin. “She’ll be asleep. Mary’ll have seen to it.”

“But she’s...probably frightened…”

“Something we can deal with tomorrow.” He bodily picked her up, and she squeaked, fighting against him until he chucked her onto the bed like a ragdoll.

“You bloody oaf!”

Jamie undressed himself piece by piece, and Claire just lay there, staring at him.

“Care to join me?”

“You threw me here. You can undress me.”

Jamie grunted in annoyed acquiescence, but Claire knew he relished in the act. Though it was probably easier when she was standing, she refused to get up. So he rolled her around like she would a patient in a sick bed until she was naked as he was. Jamie wasted no time; he checked between her legs to be sure she was ready, and she always was, and then he forcefully lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and drove home.

Claire cried out hoarsely, feeling him pierce her deeply in this position. He had her rough and posessively, much opposed to the tender hesitance in the stable earlier in the day. And she met him head on.

“You’re mine,” she panted, clawing at the skin of his arse. “Mine, Jamie Fraser. Do you hear me?”

“Aye,” he choked, kissing his way down her calf until he released her leg and bent over, allowing her to wrap her legs around him, pulling him ever closer. “Yours. Now and forever.”

“Mine.” She twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged roughly, bringing her lips to his for a searing kiss.

Perhaps it was petty of her, perhaps ridiculously insecure. But when Jamie came with no one’s name on his lips but hers, and she with his, she felt an almost primal glow of satisfaction. Jamie panted over her, pressing her into the mattress, barely holding himself up on his elbows. Claire’s chest heaved as well, and she picked up a trembling hand, placing it in the center of his chest, right over his heart.

“Mine,” she whispered, pointedly.

“Aye,” he said hoarsely, closing his hand over hers and bringing it to his lips. “All yours, mo nighean donn.”

——

Jenny was not at breakfast the next morning, whether out of pettiness or shame was anyone’s guess. Ian was, however, and Claire could see his attempt to make normal conversation, to be polite. The children were less uncomfortable than the previous night; they had no idea what had occurred after they’d left the dining room. Brianna was none the wiser, even chatting to John about some of her tools she’d invented for the crop. Claire’s heart warmed to see him smile at her and nod, encourage her gently, his eyes twinkling.

He really was a good man, and she hoped that the horrible mess that last night had been would not prevent any friendship from blooming. Especially, she had to admit, if he meant so much to Jamie.

As Mary MacNab arrived to take the plates and Maggie dutifully stood to help, John rose. “I believe it’s time I take my leave.”

“No time for one final game of chess?” Jamie stood as well.

“Unfortunately not. I’ll be expected.”

“Are ye sure?” A third voice chimed in, and Claire looked over at Ian with shock. “I havena yet seen any proof of yer expertise.”

John’s face slightly resembled that of a codfish, mouth gaping just slightly. He blinked dumbly back and forth at Claire and Jamie, and then Jamie nodded, smiling encouragingly.

“Well, alright,” John said finally. “Perhaps one game.”

And that was how Jenny found her husband, crouched over a chess board with a redcoat, Jamie standing behind John, Claire behind Ian, all the children gathered around the game on the floor as if to listen to their tutor. She hung back, watching quietly in the doorway of the parlor, only Ian and Claire able to see her. She couldn’t meet Claire’s eye.

When Ian conceded, the children groaned in defeat.

“Och, none o’ that,'' Ian waved them off. “He won fair and square. And a damn good game he played.”

“I wanted to see ye beat a redcoat, Da.”

“Jamie.”

“Sorry...Sir.”

“Quite alright,” John said genially, standing up and holding his hand out for Ian to shake. “You put up quite the fight.”

Ian got to his feet and eyed John’s hand like a beaten dog wary of being offered a perfectly good steak. After narrowing his eyes only briefly, he took John’s hand and shook firmly. “I thank ye.”

“Alright, now I really must be going,” John said, and Claire’s heart lightened to see his mood had improved significantly since breakfast. She made a note to thank Ian profusely later. It couldn’t have been easy to put himself out there like that, but it made all the difference, to both John and Jamie.

And to her, she supposed. Only when John turned to leave did John notice Jenny, and he stiffened immediately. Jamie did as well, his countenance darkening.

“I...thank ye fer visiting, My Lord,” Jenny said, her voice smaller than perhaps Claire had ever heard it. “And I...apologize fer my behavior. It was...untoward.”

“The understatement of the century,” Claire said wryly, crossing her arms.

And then, the most unbelievable sight occurred right before her eyes: Jenny Fraser Murray blushed. Deep and crimson and full of shame.

“Aye. Indeed.” She sniffed, staring at the floor. “Ye’re always welcome in this home as a friend to my brother. And my gratitude to ye for bringing him home knows no bounds.”

God, she was practically choking trying to get the words out. But, out they were coming.

“I apologize again, My Lord, for being a puir host.” Jenny curtsied, sniffing again.

She sounded like a child reciting lines from a poem required of them to memorize, and as she flicked her eyes to Ian, and he nodded in approval, Claire knew this was indeed a script he had given her to memorize.

God bless Ian, truly.

“Thank you, Madam.” John was uncomfortable, that was clear. But he nodded nonetheless “It is appreciated.”

One glance at the children told Claire they were all positively gobsmacked to see their mother so reticent, or her aunt, in Brianna’s case. They’d probably never seen such a thing, and they likely never would again.

“I thank you all for your hospitality.” John bowed genially at Ian, Jenny, and the little ones. “Children. It was most lovely to meet you all. Brianna.” He winked at her, and she bit her lip, smiling down at her feet.

“Claire and I will see you out,” Jamie cut in.

“Farewell.”

“Safe travels, My Lord,” Ian called.

The children all remained silent, as did Jenny, as the three crossed the room to leave, but then one tiny voice piped up:

“Goodbye, Lord John!”

Claire, Jamie, and John turned to see Brianna grinning up at them, the other children glaring at her with popping eyes.

Claire glanced up at John, who looked fit to burst. “Goodbye, Miss Fraser.”

They walked down the hall to the sound of awed whispers from all the children, and then they were outside, and Rabbie was fetching John’s horse from the stables.

“I...hope yer stay wasna altogether unpleasant,” Jamie said sorrowfully. “I truly didna mean fer things to get so...ugly.”

“No,” John said fondly, that twinkle in his eye returning. “Not altogether at all.”

“You are welcome, you know,” Claire said. “I mean, I know you have to come as an agent of the Crown. But just know...we want you here.”

“We?” John cocked a brow.

“Yes. We. At least, Jamie and I.” “And Brianna as well, I think,” Jamie added, smiling crookedly.

“Yes...I think she’s come around.” Claire couldn’t help her own smile.

“Have you come around, Claire?”

Claire blinked back her shock and chuckled nervously. “Well...yes. I think I have. And I’m...sorry I even had to. I didn’t...think I’d have to.”

“It’s alright.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “Truly.”

Before she could stop herself, Claire closed the distance between them and embraced him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered fervently. “For everything you’ve done for us.”

“You’re...welcome, my dear.”

Without thinking, Claire kissed his cheek as she pulled away.

Jamie took John’s hand and shook it firmly, and their hands lingered together.

“You shall always have my friendship, John,” Jamie promised. “If that has any value to ye.”

“A very great value, indeed.”

Their hands lingered for just a moment longer, and then John was mounting his horse, and Jamie tucked Claire into his side.

“Until next quarter, my friend,” Claire called, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Yes, until then.”

And he was gone.

Jenny was helping Mary finish with the breakfast dishes in the kitchen when Jamie and Claire went back inside, and she did not look up from her scrubbing as she entered.

“I ken how much it took for ye to do that,” Jamie said, close enough so Mary did not hear. “And I appreciate it.”

“I did my duty as Mistress of the house,” Jenny said, still scrubbing.

“The least you could do,” Claire said, crossing her arms.

Jenny hummed in agreement, still keeping her eyes down.

“It’s clear enough ye’re ashamed,” Jamie said, less genial now. “But I’ve yet to hear it from yer lips to my ears.”

“Aye, I’m ashamed.” She slammed her current dish into the soapy water, finally looking at them. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sunken in. She must have hardly slept the night before. “I’m mostly ashamed because I meant every word. And I dinna ken how to be sorry for something I meant so much.”

Jamie pursed his lips, nodding. “I see.”

“But,” she went on, sniffling. “It was wrong to treat him that way. And to say such terrible things about my own brother.”

“Aye, it was.”

“I was...scared. Of what I didna understand.” She met Claire’s eye, and Claire fought the urge to nod her agreement. “But...as yer wife said...it’s none of my business.”

“Aye. That’s right.”

“But ye’ve been faithful to Claire, aye?”

“Christ…”

“Because I swear, brother, I’ll serve yer balls for breakfast if ye’ve lain wi’ anyone but yer wife, woman or man.”

“I’m one word away from slapping ye silly again.”

“That’s enough,” Claire cut in. “If you must know, Jamie has sworn to me that he’s been faithful, and I trust his word like I trust my own mind. So that’s that, and you can drop it.”

Jenny nodded curtly, returning to her scrubbing. “Good.”

An awkward silence passed during which Mary MacNab sneezed, and Claire jumped, having forgotten she was even there.

��Is that all?”

Jamie rolled his eyes heavenward, and Claire made a note to praise him on his patience. “Aye.”

“To work wi’ ye then.”

So Jamie left, and Claire stayed behind to help with clean-up.

“D’ye think he’ll truly forgive me?” Jenny stopped scrubbing, looking into Claire’s eyes with genuine desperation that almost made Claire feel sorry for her.

“Eventually,” Claire said. “And so will I. Eventually.”

Jenny averted her eyes shamefully, biting her lip. She nodded, sniffling again, and Claire reached into the soapy water for another rag and began scrubbing another dish

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keys-to-the-kinkdom · 4 years ago

Note

i see medical/examination kink on your list 👀 maybe someone (take your pick) examining ciri? perhaps she's a sex slave they're getting ready to sell??? - 👽

Aiden was at the slave market under contract. Despite his reputation, he did tend to prefer his partners consenting, but a grieving widow had put out a contract on a slaver and Aiden had been too much of a bleeding heart to say no. Lambert was going to laugh himself sick when he heard. The problem he was having was that his target was back at the slave pens. The public weren't allowed access to the slave pens without being a buyer. Aiden didn't want to buy a slave, not even to kill one of the slavers.

He was leaning against one of the pillars in the auction room, trying to look dangerous and unapproachable while he worked out how to fulfil his contract. He was barely paying attention to the stage, just enough to spot a threat if one was to emerge. A flash of white caught his eye. His first thought was that Geralt was here chasing the same or another contract. A closer look showed just how wrong he was.

Ciri was standing, tall and regal in the middle of the stage. She was completely bare. Even with her cunt out and her nipples teased to stiff peaks, she radiated serene regality. Aiden adjusted himself subtly in his breeches. Like all the slaves, her hands were tied behind her with sturdy rope and there was a thick leather collar around her throat. The leash was held by the auctioneer.

'Our next lot is a young woman, approximately twenty five years of age, healthy and strong. She would be suitable for any work, including manual labour and bedsport. She is not untouched. I'll start the bidding at 300 crowns,' the auctioneer called.

Aiden’s hand was in the air before he had a chance to think. Ciri was a Wicher in all but mutations. She’d be able to help him fulfil the contract. He also owed it to the wolves to rescue their youngest from a situation that she probably didn’t want to be in (although she looked comfortable enough on the stage). Those were the reasons he’d have given if anyone had asked him what he was doing. The reality was though, that in that moment, he saw her and he wanted and he had the means to take.

The bidding spiralled up from 300 to 500 to 700 and Aiden began to sweat. He’d had a good season on the Path, starting out with new gear from the caravan and picking up a few very lucrative contracts early on, but he wasn’t made of money. Not like some of these people were. Just as he really began to worry, Ciri bared her teeth and snarled at the greasy, portly man that was attempting to outbid Aiden. Her sharp teeth glinted in the light and the glare was as feral as anything Lambert could have produced. Aiden’s dick twitched in his smalls. His opposition on the other hand, shrank back, put off by the sight and he missed his chance to bid.

‘Going once! Going twice! Sold to the man with the red hair!’ the auctioneer called. He handed Ciri’s leash off to an attendant and the next slave was dragged out.

Aiden made his way through the administrative process as quickly as he possibly could. The attendant that led him back gave him an indulgent smile.

‘She really is something to look at, that one, isn’t she?’ he said conspiratorially.

Aiden swallowed and nodded, ‘Yeah.’ His voice was raspy. ‘I can’t wait to find out what she’s like in bed. Seemed to have some fire in her.’

Of course, he knew Ciri’s fire well. The idea of it leashed under his control was doing things to him that he didn’t really want to admit to. He was learning a lot of things about himself very suddenly.

The slave pens were in a large warehouse at the back of the auction building. There was an open space in the middle where the sold slaves were tied to hitching posts, waiting for their new owners. Aiden’s eyes snapped immediately to Ciri’s white blonde hair. He walked towards her like he was the one on the leash.

When he reached her, a lean, rat-faced man stepped forward and took the token that provided proof of sale.

‘Watch for this one,’ he sneered, ‘she’s a feral little thing.’

He reached out to tweak a nipple but froze when Aiden clamped a hand around his wrist.

‘She’s mine,’ he hissed, ‘and you will not touch her.’

‘Quite right, Sir,’ the man said with an oily smirk, stepping back. ‘Will you inspect the goods before you leave?’

Aiden had heard of the practice, of course. As a Wicher it was impossible to not be introduced to the seedier sides of life. As a Cat Witcher who was less picky about his contracts than schools like the Griffins or the Wolves, it was expected that he’d have contacts in the underbelly of society. As such, he knew what he needed to do here. He knew he should feel reluctant, but all he felt was desperate. He wanted to get his hands on that pale, creamy flesh and show her who she belonged to.

‘Yes, I’ll inspect her,’ he said, stepping forward.

They were nose to nose now. He could feel her little puffs of breath hitting his chin. Her warmth was intoxicating. He leaned closer, placing his lips by her ear.

‘Hello there, little pup,’ he whispered.

She shivered, very lightly, but enough that he noticed.

He stood back and looked her over.

‘Good. She knows to hold position at least,’ he said, eyes flicking to the slaver.

He reached out and tilted her chin up. Her skin was soft and warm. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched. He’d helped train her after all and spent several winters in the wolves’ keep with her where they all wrestled and sparred. This deliberate touching of her naked skin was different though. Electricity sparked along his fingertips which felt like they suddenly had a direct line to his cock.

‘Where did you get her?’ Aiden asked.

As he waited for an answer, he lifted first one eyelid and then the other. Her eyes were clear and bright and she didn’t waver under his hands. He burned with the trust it implied. He ran his fingers down over her cheeks, stroking her hair back from her face and coming to rest cupping her jaw. She blinked once, slowly.

‘Found her running around in Ebbing, asking questions she shouldn’t have been. Didn’t take much to shut her up,’ the slimy arsehole crowed. Aiden longed to silence him. Permanently.

He focused on Ciri. Her light, sweet scent filled his nostrils and calmed him. He was where he needed to be to fulfil the contract. He swore to himself there and then that he would kill this odious man before he left. How dare he think he had the right to touch Aiden’s Ciri? She deserved better than his disgusting hands on her sweet, perfect body.

He lifted her top lip and slid one finger in, running it around her teeth. They were all in place with no cracks or other damage. He breathed a little easier. Ciri didn’t have the same mutated ability to grow new teeth if her original ones were damaged. Her training had focused a lot on protecting her face. He pulled his finger back and hooked it across her bottom teeth, pulling her mouth open. She allowed it and he swallowed hard at the sight of her little pink tongue, sitting there so innocently. He imagined it licking at his cock. He slid two fingers in, as deep as he could. She breathed deeply around them but didn’t otherwise react and Aiden felt himself beginning to leak. Her mouth was warm and soft and he wanted nothing more than to push her to her knees and sink his cock in. He couldn’t though. He had to keep his cover. He had to hope that Ciri knew what he was doing and that she wouldn’t hate him afterwards.

He pulled his fingers out and dragged them down her throat, spreading the wetness and making it glisten. As he trailed over the collar he felt her breath hitch and he paused to tug on it a little. Her scent deepened, ripening with arousal. He tugged harder and she whined. He considered teasing her some more, but resisted, instead moving to slip his hands down her arms, checking her muscle definition. He tested the rope around her wrists and subtly loosened it enough that she could slip out if she needed to. He desperately hoped she’d stay where she was, but at least she now had the ability to leave if she wished. The leash was looped around the pillar but it wasn’t tied. A good pull would have it free in seconds.

His fingers skimmed from her wrists over her ribs where he frowned over how clear it was that she hadn’t been eating enough. She blinked at him again and relaxed into his hands.

‘Did you not bother feeding her?’ he asked, venom dripping from his voice.

‘She’s alive, ain’t she? She ate enough.’

‘I prefer my partners to feel less like I may break them the first time I throw them down to fuck them properly,’ Aiden spat.

Ciri’s moan was almost certainly too quiet for anyone else to hear. It was barely audible to Aiden’s Witcher enhanced ears, but it was audible. He smirked at her. He could see a muscle jumping in her thigh where she was clenching her legs. He preened at the knowledge that she was turned on by him.

From her ribs, he slid his hands up and cupped her breasts. He paused with his thumbs hovering over her nipples, which were still taught and peaked in the slightly chill air of the room.

‘Are you sensitive?’ he asked her, his voice dripping like dark honey between them. He should be kind to her, but there was a beast inside him, rising up and screaming for her ruin.

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Yes?’ he asked, giving in all at once to his basest instincts, ‘Yes what?’

‘Yes, Sir, I’m sensitive,’ she replied, louder now and more confident with something to push back against.

‘Hmm.’

He pinched them, quick and hard and she arched back and wailed. Each breast was barely a handful, but they were soft and round and tight. Her nipples were small and he applied himself to teasing them, alternating sharp pinches and light brushes in an unpredictable pattern. He could see her struggling to stay still, wanting more. Her back was bowed into an arch as she pressed forward into his hands. He thumbed over both nipples, gave them a sudden hard twist then let go entirely. Her voice rose in a reedy wail.

‘You are sensitive,’ he purred, ‘Does that apply to everywhere, I wonder.’ She opened her mouth to answer him, but he interrupted her. ‘You only need to speak when ordered to. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut unless you’re moaning on my fingers.’

She closed her mouth and nodded. He pulled the leash rope free from the low railing it was attached to and tugged her forward. She fell into him, off balance. He used the opportunity to grab a handful of her tight little ass which she wiggled. He pressed his hand between her legs and found that she was soaking. Slick dripped freely from between her folds and she moaned as soon as he touched her.

‘Eager little thing, aren’t you,’ he murmured. ‘So wet for me. You’re going to make such a good slut.’

He spun her around and pressed one hand to her hip and the other between her shoulders.

‘Bend over and put your hands on the rail,’ he ordered.

As soon as she complied, he kicked her feet wider, exposing her most intimate places to his view. She was flushed red and dripping. The scent of her arousal wound around him and intoxicated him. He had to have her. He wound the leash around his fist and pulled it, forcing her head up and her back to arch so that she was presenting to him.

‘I’m going to touch you now and you’re going to come on my fingers like the greedy little slut that you are,’ he told her. ‘If you’re good, I’ll give you my cock, but you have to earn it. I want to hear you scream, do you understand?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ she whimpered.

‘Good girl.’

His finger circled her clit and she whined. He laughed, low and a little cruel. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

‘Have you ever been fucked before, little slut?’ he asked her.

‘Yes, Sir,’ she replied, gasping for breath as he pushed two fingers into her without pause. He wanted to wreck her. He wanted to own her, to possess her so utterly that she would never look at another man again. The intensity of his own feelings overwhelmed him and he pushed another finger in, leaning forward. His hard cock pressed against her arse and he thrust, groaning at the friction. He leaned forward, draped half across her back so that he could hiss into her ear.

‘Look at you,’ he growled, as deep and resonant as any Wolf, ‘You were made for this. You were made to be my little slut.’ He dropped his voice to a quiet rumble so that no one but her would hear. ‘What would Geralt think if he could see you like this?’ he asked. ‘His precious daughter spread out on my fingers, whimpering for more. What would your Uncles say? Do you think they’d be disgusted to know that you’re nothing but a little slut? Or do you think they’d want a turn?’

Ciri gasped and moaned at that, slick leaking out around Aiden’s fingers to drip onto the ground. He pushed the fourth in and reached down with his thumb, circling her clit with a lazy, light pressure that did nothing more than frustrate.

‘Oh, you like that idea, do you? You like the idea of your father and your uncles lining up behind me, ready to take their turn with my precious little slut? Is that what you want? I can make that happen,’ he growled twisting his fingers and pressing down with his thumb at the same time.

Ciri came apart with a wail, loud enough to turn heads in their direction. Aiden preened, knowing that everyone could see how good his little slave was. She shook apart under him, cunt clenching and fluttering around his fingers. He hooked them forward and pulled, twisting and pressing as she came. Slick gushed out, running down her thighs and soaking his hand. He purred at the feeling.

‘What a good little slut,’ he whispered. ‘So good for me.’

‘Thank you, Sir. Thank you,’ she whimpered. Her voice was scratchy from the screaming.

He drew his fingers out and pulled her up. Her knees were shaking and she fell back against him.

‘You’ve made a mess,’ he said. ‘I think you should clean up after yourself.’

He offered her his hand and she stuck her tongue out, darting little kitten licks to clean it of her slick. She moaned as she did so and he couldn’t help but grind forward, pressing his cock against her pert little arse. She pressed back. The friction was both delicious and terrible. He wasn’t going to come in his braies like a kit. He wasn’t. If she didn’t stop that though, he might not have a choice. He pulled his hand away.

‘Enough now,’ he said. He barely recognised the sound of his own voice.

‘Are you happy with your purchase?’ the odious little man asked. Another man had joined him while Aiden had been distracted and he barely resisted the urge to curse. This was his target. The slaver that he had been sent after. Before he could react, Ciri had shrugged out of her ropes, ducked down and pulled the knife out of his boot. Her throw was textbook, exactly as he had taught her, and it embedded itself in the target’s eye.

All hell broke loose as his body hit the ground.

#keys writes #keys prompt fill #dead dove #dead dove: do not eat #keys sex slavery cw #keys exhibitionism cw #keys medical/examination kink cw #keys pseudo-incest cw #keys objectification cw #keys alien anon

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newtonsheffield · 4 years ago

Note

Loved the headcanons about what Kate does for Anthony 💕 not a specific request , just looking for more Kate and Anthony cos they are everything. Hit me with anything you fancy😍

Hello!

My word, this has obviously been sitting in here for the longest time, and so, I am going to do something I have never done before, and post an outtake to an older fic here. Well, kind of. This was a scene I had planned for Saturday and I cut it for time. By “cut it for time” I mean, I didn’t have time to write it because my life is a chaotic disaster, despite my best efforts and this seemed very close to what had happened already in Committed

So without further ado I present: Anthony, and the Saturday morning he decided on his Scrabble proposal plan. (I must also dedicate this to Soft Anthony Anon whom I feel deserves this)

Anthony had been ruminating on his idea since last night. He’d stormed inside after coming home from the Danbury ball, still dripping wet thundering up the stairs even as Kate, no less wet behind him said gently “Come on, let’s go to bed.” tugging him gently by the hand into their bedroom. And his terrible mood had ebbed away as he’d watched Kate slowly go about her nighttime routine. She removed her contact lenses, just like always, squinting at him as she chatted to him from where he sat barefoot, feeling shame at his terrible mood, incompetence really, as though he wanted to sink into the carpet. God, if he couldn’t even ask her to be his wife how was he ever going to be a good husband? But still Kate smiled happily at him, when she slid into bed beside him kissing his cheek softly and whispered “I had a nice time tonight.” as she settled her head against his shoulder, her glasses still in place signalling that she wanted to talk to him for a little while longer. Anthony scoffed

“Yes, as everyone knows, getting drenched by a sprinkler is the highlight of any social engagement.” Anthony said primly, resting his cheek against the top of her head as she laughed brightly, her fingers drawing nonsensical patterns in the fabric of his shirt. and God that sound The sound he’d heard that had started all of this, the one he’d heard one day and known desperately that he wanted to cause that sound, to stand close and bask in its glow. He could hear it every day for the rest of his life and never get bored.

“I always have a good time with you. Whether we’re out or at home, I love spending time with you, you know.” Kate said sighing happily, her voice tilting upwards at the end, as she nuzzled her nose against his neck lightly. And everything had solidified. His heart fluttering happily at her words.

And he’d woken this morning, his mind buzzing with a plan, his heart beating excitedly at the prospect. He loved how Kate looked, always. Her crisp business attire, sharp and commanding her tall heels making her legs look miles long. Her weekend clothes, soft lines and bright colours radiating happiness. But truly, his favourite Kate was the one laying next to him right now. Her face bathed in early morning light, her hair in complete disarray across his chest, the shirt she was wearing was the very one he’d given her the first night they’d spent together Oxford written across her chest giving him a savage sense of pride that she’d taken this and never returned it. A sign she was his, even from very early in their relationship. There was a casual intimacy in someone letting you see them at their least put together. He remembered the very first time he’d seen her wearing glasses. The Monday after their first date, he’d arrived at her house and shed already been wearing them, settled for the night and he’d been a little taken aback.

“You wear glasses!” He’d said a little brightly smiling at her “Do you wear contacts during the day?” He’d questioned genuinely curious, craving knowledge about his new girlfriend, desperate to know as much about her as possible. And she’d fiddled with them nervously, her lip caught between her teeth “Umm Yes, I wear contacts, but they itch my eyes but the end of the day so I usually take them out when I get home. Sorry.” She’d finished awkwardly, apologetically, as her eyes skittered uncomfortably around the room. And Anthony’s heart had sunk, irritation filling him a little at the thought that someone had made her feel self conscious, lesser than, for something like this. When truly, he couldn’t imagine a time coming when he wouldn’t find Kate ludicrously enticing, even in her ridiculous Spiceworld shirt, another interesting fact he’d filed away about her. He’d reached out and tugged her arm until she toppled into him, with a surprised little sound that had had pooling in his stomach as he reached down and adjusted her glasses slightly before growling in her ear as she shivered delightfully against him “Now, Miss Sheffield, why ever would you be sorry about something so absolutely adorable?” And he’d spent the rest of the evening showing her just how much he liked learning new facts about her.

And truly now, this was his his favourite Kate. His Kate who laughed and smiled with him, and made him foods that he butchered the pronunciation of that had her shaking her head at her sister muttering something softly in Hindi to her sister who laughed brightly and Anthony tried not to feel offended at the fact she’d once said only the swear words when he’d asked if she could speak Hindi. Endlessly competitive, and high spirited who’d stormed into his life, picked up all the broken pieces and gently placed them back together in a new picture that was far more beautiful.

His practically bursting with love and excitement as she snored softly, and her eye lids fluttered open and a soft smile came to her face when she looked at him with recognition flashing in her eyes her voice rough with sleep when she spoke

“What are you thinking about that has you smiling like that Mr. Bridgerton?” And Anthony had clucked his tongue, with a theatrical groan and said “Just reliving the wonderful time I bested you at Scrabble by 95 points. Goodness I rather enjoyed getting to unwrap my prize afterwards.” He said, his voice low running his fingers pointedly down her spine. The effect was immediate, Kate shot up in bed, her eyes flashing angrily even as her cheeks flushed in clear memory of exactly how he’d claimed his victory that night.

“We’re playing Scrabble tonight. Bring your A game, Bridgerton” She hissed at him like an angry goose in the way he found endlessly adorable. And it was all he could do not to hoot his victory already.

#bridgerton and sons au #kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #committed: a bridgerton and sons fic #saturday: a bridgerton and sons fic #molly's asks and answers

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doyumacy · 4 years ago

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 11

pairing: taeyong x doyoung x reader

warnings:「dotae x reader, polyamorous relationship, mentions of blood, using of weapons such as gun and brass knuckles, character death, smut (oral f. and m) (threesome) (anal sex) (unprotected sex) (use of handcuffs) (m/m sex) 」

word count: 「 5,5 k 」

Doyoung shakes his hand after removing the brass knuckles. They’re red and swollen. They’re broken for hitting Jackson’s face at least five times. Doyoung turns to Jackson and there’s a gash along his right cheek, which won't stop bleeding. His lips are bleeding and he lowers his head, panting.

Jackson is seated in a metal chair and his hands are tied to it, which makes Doyoung bend down to his height and tilts his head. “Tired already? We just started.”

“Keep this energy, Doyoung. You have a funeral to throw,” Jackson says between

his teeth, and then spits out, saliva mixed with blood.

And just like that, Jackson feels the crack of Doyoung's brass knuckles against his cheekbone.

There’s a new broken blood vessel spreading along the smooth skin of Jackson's upper cheekbone and over the side of his nose. Jackson laughs, throwing his head back. "Hit me as much as you want, it won't bring her back."

Doyoung groans and is ready to throw another fist when Ten grabs his arm. “Don’t. He is just provoking you. You gotta be smarter.”

“Yeah, listen to the short one,” Jackson mocks.

Doyoung takes a deep breath and stares at Jackson; jaw aches, almost like it does when you have a cavity so deeply rooted that it turns your gums black. Gums that are inflamed and bleed when picked. He tastes the metallic bitterness on his tongue, but it was from his nose.

Doyoung wants to end him so bad, but he needs to know first if you're okay. If Taeyong managed to take you out of the water before it was too late.

“I’ll be right back,” Doyoung tells Ten and he nods.

Doyoung exits the small warehouse pulling out his phone. He calls Taeyong. “Tae?”

“Oh, God,” Taeyong sighs relieved. “You’re okay. I was so worried.”

“I am, it’s okay, honey,” he says. “How’s y/n??

“She’s okay, she’s getting some warm intravenous fluids to help warn her blood and is resting now,” Taeyong runs a hand through his hair. “Doctor said if I had been 5 minutes late, she wouldn’t have made it.”

Doyoung feels like a big amount of weight has been lifted from his shoulders. You are okay.

You are alive.

He holds onto the door, ducking his head trying to quiet a sob, tears streaming down his and he nods as if Taeyong is watching him. “Doyoung? Babe? You’re still there?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung says with a crackly voice. “I just… please take care of her. Don’t leave her alone, you know she hates hospitals.”

“I won't,” Taeyong says. “Babe? Are you okay?”

Doyoung stands straight again and wipes his face. “Yes. I’ll be there in a few hours, okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Taeyong gives a shy smile. “And Doyoung?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t kill Jackson. Let Ten take care of it,” Taeyong asks him.

Doyoung sighs. “Okay.”

Doyoung goes back inside the warehouse and places the brass knuckles on the table. Jackson smirks, looking at him. “Giving up already?”

Doyoung scoffs and smiles, squatting down in front of him. “I came to the conclusion it’s not worth it to stain my hands with your blood.”

“That’s why, here my friend Ten will do it,” Doyoung turns his face to Ten, who’s already loading a gun. “A head shot sounds very pleasing right now.”

Doyoung steps aside when Ten stands in front of him and raises the gun to the level of Jackson's forehead. Jackson's eyes widen and he begins to fidget in his chair desperately. "Wait! Don't do it, and-I'll talk to the police. I'll turn myself in.”

Doyoung ignores him and Ten takes his silence as a no. Ten pulls the trigger and the warehouse is filled with a very sharp and loud sound.

(...)

Waking up to rhythmic beeping and the steady flow of air through a tube is something you never thought you would go through again.

You open your eyes to a white ceiling, your eyelids are heavy, threatening to close again as she gathers the strength to look around, and your chest feels tight. Pain racks your body as she cranes your neck to look around.

There is an EKG machine next to you and an intravenous drip that you assume is attached to your arm. You also wear an oxygen mask.

You spot Taeyong sleeping uncomfortably on a chair next to your bed, he has his arms crossed against his chest and head almost hanging. You glance to the other side and see Doyoung also sleeping on the small couch.

How long has it been since you arrived at the hospital? Days? Weeks?

Your head hurts and one of your hands reaches to your forehead and you whimper when one of your fingers touches your stitches.

You try to slide a little on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position and you let out another whimper. Your whole body aches.

It seems that Taeyong notices your last whimper and he wakes up almost jolting. He stands up and places himself next to you. "What is it, baby? Do you want me to get the doctor?"

You shake your head. "I'm f-" you clear your throat a few times. "I'm just thirsty."

Taeyong nods and presses a button calling a nurse. The nurse enters the room with a pitcher of water and two glasses. She checks on your vital signs and after updating the chart, she announces the doctor will arrive soon to finish checking on you. You nod as you slowly drink water.

Doyoung wakes up and he places a kiss on your forehead carefully. He rests his hand on the back of your head and looks at you. "Are you sure you feel alright?"

"I wanna go home," you almost whisper.

"Soon, baby," Taeyong holds your hand and looks at Doyoung, then he eyes his bruised knuckles.

Doyoung puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans, hiding them. The less you know, the better.

The next morning you’re discharged but the doctor tells you still have to rest and stay in bed for at least two more days.

You’re laying in the bed trying to find something to watch on Netflix but everything looks boring. You sigh turning off the tv and place the remote on the bedside table. You’re bored, sore and upset.

Upset at Doyoung that he hasn’t talked to you since the hospital. He’s avoiding you.

Again.

If he wants to break up with you just needs to say it, why bother and stay around and when he clearly doesn't have any intentions?

You roll on the bed, hugging a pillow closing your eyes. You hear someone opening the door and ignore it. They might think you’re sleeping.

By the steps, you can tell it is Doyoung. He walks to the bathroom and after a few minutes, he leaves the bathroom and walks towards the bed. He leans down a bit and places a kiss on your temple.

As he walks to the door to leave the room, you open your eyes. “Will you finally stop bullshiting around and talk to me?”

Doyoung holds the knob and gulps. He finally turns and stares at you. “Not now.”

You roll your eyes. “Just… break up with me already.”

Doyoung frowns. “What?” He walks towards the bed again. “What would I break up with you?”

“You had been ignoring me for days before the accident and you’re still ignoring me,” you state. “If you don’t want to have kids with me or ever just say it.”

Doyoung bites his lips and giggles a bit. You glare at him. “What 's so funny, Doyoung?” You almost groan.

He shakes his head and smiles looking at you softly. “Of course I want to have a family with you, y/n.”

“Then why do you act all weird?!” You glance at him.

Doyoung sits on the edge of the bed and rests one of his hands on your legs. “Because I’m scared.” He looks you in the eye. “Starting a family never crossed my mind before meeting you. I didn’t have the best dad imagine growing up so I don’t think I’m capable of raising a kid.”

You growl, sitting on the bed. “Now I’m the one being a dick.”

He nods looking at you and then laughs slightly. “When I saw you holding Aera that’s when I knew, but I also got even scared because I think I won’t be a good dad.”

“Doyoung,” you say softly, holding his hand, ignoring the bruises on his knuckles. “You won’t make your dad’s mistakes. You’re different from him. You should not reflect yourself on his actions.”

Doyoung presses his lips together and looks at you. “I am not that different.”

Doyoung barely speaks about his father, and the time he spoke about it, it made him vulnerable and hurt.

His dad was involved in a drug cartel and left him and his mom when he was seven years old. He still remembers the scene, coming back from school, seeing mom crying in the living room and his dad standing next to her holding a suitcase. Doyoung’s dad didn’t even say goodbye to him and left.

A year later, he was arrested.

“Doyoung,” you begin, cupping his face. “You know what makes you different from him?” Doyoung’s eyes dart to you. “You would never let your greediness step above from those who you love. That is what makes you different.”

Doyoung lowers his hand and rests it on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you play with his hair. “Next time try talking to me, okay?”

Doyoung nods and places a kiss on your shoulder. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Is it about Jackson?” You inquire.

Doyoung goes back to his last position and nods, looking you in the eye. You shake your head. “Then I don’t want to know. Whatever happened to him I don’t want to know. He deserved it.”

Doyoung takes a deep breath and cups your face kissing you. “I love you. So much.”

“I know you do,” you smile and kiss him back. “Call Taeyong. Let’s make love tonight.”

Doyoung chuckles. “As much as I want to make love to you both we can’t. You’re still not fully recovered and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been sex deprivaved for days. It’s enough.”

“You can take a few more days,” he rubs your chin.

You groan. “That’s rude.”

He hums in response and gives you a peck on the cheek. “You want something to eat?”

“Pizza,” you smile. “Spinach and pesto pizza, please.”

Doyoung nods standing up from the bed. “Oh! Also, some roasted asparagus with bacon.”

“You’re pregnant already?” He mocks.

“Yes, and you better hurry up or the baby will have an asparagus face.”

Doyoung laughs. “I’ll be right back.”

Doyoung goes downstairs and spots Taeyong going to the kitchen. “Babe?”

Taeyong turns. “Yes?”

“y/n wants her favorite.”

“Oh,” Taeyong nods. “Did you guys finally talk?”

Doyoung nods. “She kind of scolded me.”

“I mean, you sort of deserved it,” Taeyong shrugs.

Doyoung nods. “She also wanted to have sex.”

Taeyong giggles. “I get her. I’m horny too.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Am I the only one not thinking with his second head?”

“Oh come on, honey,” Taeyong scoffs. “I heard you this morning jacking off in the bathroom.”

Doyoung blushes and Taeyong laughs. “I relieved some tension.”

Taeyong hums. “You know, I’m still here.”

Doyoung bites his lips. “Why don’t you order the food and see what we can do while we wait?”

“But you need to keep it down,” Taeyong kisses him. “Or y/n will get upset.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s very vocal.”

Taeyong chuckles and his lips goes down Doyoung’s neck.”We’ll see.”

Taeyong hovers closer and leaves a warm kiss on Doyoung's lips, as Doyoung responds back with his tongue swerving inside.

Taeyong lest out a deep moan when Doyoung is so immersed into kissing him. Taeyong pauses the kiss, and breathes heavily, noses still in contact.

"The office, now?" Doyoung panting, still from their kissing session.

Taeyong locks the door, and he holds Doyoung by his waist. Taeyong looks straight into his eyes, making him spill his intentions.

Doyoung gives his own lips a quick lick, giving Taeyong a demanding look. Taeyong chuckles and kisses him again. "You're so needy today, honey."

"I am horny," Doyoung spits back and nips at his lip. "Bend me over the desk."

"Yes, you're very horny," Taeyong unzips his pants. "You never let me fuck you."

"And I won't if you don't shut up," Doyoung clenches his jaw, undoing his belt.

Taeyong giggles and grabs Doyoung by his hips. He turns him around and bends him over the desk.

By the time Doyoung is doing his pants, he hears the ringbell and smiles. “Just in time.”

Taeyong sits on the big black chair and hands him a $50 bill. “For your services, honey.” He jokes and Doyoung laughs.

“It’s more than $50 buck, I ain’t that cheap, Lee,” Doyoung takes the bill.

“If you give me head next time I’ll think about it,” Taeyong smirks.

(...)

“You two bitches had sex,” you say after you swallowed your piece of pizza. Doyoung and Taeyong look at each other. “And before you ask how I know it’s pretty obvious. Doyoung gets his cheeks all red and Taeyong’s lips are literally smashed.”

Doyoung and Taeyong slightly laugh and you groan. “This is unfair! I’m horny too!”

“Baby, we’ll do anything you want when you feel better,” Taeyong smiles at you.

“I feel better now,” you grin.

Doyoung shakes his head. “Doctor said no sudden moves for at least five more days. You know we ain’t soft, love.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, but you know what this means right?”

Taeyong frowns. “No, what does it mean?”

“War,” you smile big.

Doyoung chuckles. “Love, it’s not that deep.”

“Yes it is,” you squint your eyes. “You’ll beg me eventually to stop.”

The next morning, Doyoung wakes up to a high-pitched sound. He rolls on the bed and opens his eyes. He gulps at the scene, you have your eyes closed, biting your lip and fingers between your folds. You let out another small moan and arch your back a little.

It 's not fair.

You keep fingering yourself when you feel Taeyong rolling on the bed as well and he groans. Doyoung rests a hand on your thigh and you yank it off. “No touching.”

“Love,” Doyoung clenches his jaw.

When you reach your climax, you run two fingers through your dripping pussy and take them to your mouth, licking them clean. Taeyong swallows hard and he knows this is just the beggining of their torture.

You sigh and smile at both. “Gentlemen,” you get up from the bed and find your panties in the way, you throw them to Doyoung and wink an eye at him. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

You lock yourself in the bathroom and Doyoung and Taeyong look at each other. “We’re so fucked up.”

“I know,” Doyoung sighs. “Did you see her ass? It got bigger.”

“Fuck yeah,” Taeyong groans. “I can’t wait to spank those cheeks.”

The same day, all you wear is one of Doyoung’s shirts and a pink lace thong. The one you know it drives them crazy. You walk past them and they won't help themselves from watching your ass and much less when you bend down slowly to pick something up from the floor.

Taeyong presses his lips together and sighs at the scene. Doyoung clenches his jaw and groans, it’s going to be a long day.

But they can also play.

The following day, you’re getting ready to go to bed when you hear moans coming from the bathroom. You want to scream.

Taeyong is on his knees giving Doyoung maybe one of his best heads ever. Fuck.

Doyoung throws his head back, moaning. He has never been this vocal, but now that he knows you’re outside, he’s feeling it. He won’t quiet down.

Moans become louder when Doyoung pushes Taeyong up against the wall and fucks him. Hard. Just the way Taeyong likes.

You bury your head in the pillows and choke a moan. It’s two against one. You need a new plan.

Then, it comes to your mind. You smile internally and take off your pajamas laying down naked. You hear the door of the bathroom opening and when they’re outside, you spread your legs in front of them and start playing with your vibrator. You moan quietly as you suck one of your fingers.

Doyoung and Taeyong get hard again and they groan. You let out another moan and stare at them with your lips partly opened.

“Fuck this shit,” Doyoung murmurs before approaching you and placing himself between your legs. He presses kisses on your thighs before giving you the most erotic glance. “Safeword.”

“Disneyland,” you say and you hear Taeyong’s giggle.

“Good,” Doyoung hums against your skin. He turns to Taeyong. “Bring the black velvet box that’s in the closet.”

Taeyong nods and you look at Doyoung. “I thought you didn’t want to hurt me.”

“And I won’t,” he says and stares hungrily at your dripping heat, and with both thumbs he spreads it open, lightly blowing air against your clit. A gasp comes out from your mouth at the cold feeling.

Taeyong is back holding the box and he opens it, placing it on the bed. “Pass me the handcuffs, please.”

Taeyong hands him them and you bite your lip. You feel your heart hammer against your ribcage. You want this so bad. You shiver at the sensation of the cold metal circling your wrists.

Doyoung pins your arms above your head and he kneels down and leans over. “You little minx,” he whispers. “I think you need to learn a lesson in patience.”

“Don’t move,” he commands.

Taeyong helps to carefully but snuggly ties each of your wrists to the bedposts. After making sure you are comfortable but unable to undo your restraints, they both strip off their clothes and get on the bed next to you.

Taeyong runs his index finger over her plump bottom lip and your tongue automatically darts out to swirl around the digit. He allows you this small pleasure as he imagines your warm mouth doing something very similar to another part of his body. He then, ever so slowly, moves his hands down your neck over your shoulders and across your collarbone. They travel between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, circling around your navel before moving back up. when they return to your collarbone, you whimper with need.

“Is there something you need, baby?” he asks casually although his erection is pressing against your arm.

“I want to suck you," you say, taking his length with your hand.

"It's all yours, baby."

As you take his length with your mouth, you feel Doyoung's hands between your breast cupping them and rubbing your nipples with his thumb. You moan against Taeyong's dick.

You push your chest further into his touch, feeling the pull from the handcuffs against your wrists. Doyoung massages your breasts and pinch at your nipples while he settles between your thighs again, his lips on your stomach. He kisses your creamy skin, his tongue moving from one freckle to the next.

You take Taeyong's dick out of your mouth and rest your forehead against his crotch, after a few seconds, you go back to suck his cock. You watch him throw his head back, biting his lip.

You squirm, once again tugging at your restraints. You want to touch them, to run your fingers through their hairs and knowing you can't is both extremely frustrating and incredibly arousing. You can feel how wet you are and you are sure it will be coating your thighs if they aren't spread so far apart. When Doyoung begins to lick and nip at your pelvic bone, you bring your feet up to his hips and push downward.

Doyoung quirks his eyebrow but takes the hint and kisses even further down your body, his hands making the journey as well. He runs a single finger through your wetness rubbing your clit for a moment until he makes his way to your entrance. He pushes a finger then two inside of you at the same time that he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tasting your juices.

“Oh Doyoung,” You moan, your thighs instinctively tightening against his head. You stare down the expanse of your body to look into his eyes. His eyes are dark and lidded with desire and he moans against your clit causing your body to shudder with pleasure. His fingers and tongue are hitting all of the right spots and you are so close.

Abruptly, Doyoung pulls away from you completely and you can't stop the protesting whine that comes from your throat.

“What did I tell you about patience?” he asks although from his tone it's obvious he doesn't have much remaining himself.

“You have me tied to the bed and are having your way with me, how much more patient can I be?” You groan.

"Finish Taeyong and then we'll discuss your options," Doyoung winks at you.

You bob your head up and down the length of Taeyong's cock. You keep your tongue wrapped around the base as you move your head along every inch, taking it all in one fell swoop over and over again. You quickly work yourself into a steady rhythm of bobbing your head along his dick, taking it all. Taeyong moans taking your hair in a ponytail and looks down at you. "Fuck, baby girl. You're so good."

You look up at him as you take it all again. He chokes on a moan, gripping your hair. "Shit, shit... I'm gonna cum."

You feel his white warm liquid seep from his dick into your mouth. And you are more than happy to swallow it down, causing your tongue to constrict around his member each and every time that you do.

"Good girl," you hear Doyoung praising you and rub your thighs. He leans down for a kiss and you release Taeyong's dick with a 'pop' and kiss him.

As you kiss him, you spit some of Taeyong's cum on his mouth and both men groan. "Naughty," Doyoung swallows it and kisses your neck.

Taeyong releases your hands from the handcuffs. Your head falls back onto the pillows as Doyoung goes down and holds your legs apart. Your hand goes down to Doyoung's hair, lacing your fingers in his soft black locks and rolling your hips against his face while his tongue continues to lap at you.

“Fuck,” you choke out, “Doyoung, your mouth feels so good.” You whimper out.

Doyoung pulls away, again, his chin glistening from your arousal, “why don't we let Taeyong have a taste?"

While Doyoung sensually licks your cunt, Taeyong dives right in sucking harshly on your clit and slipping two fingers into your cunt. He curls them upwards and strokes your soft walls with the pads of his calloused fingers.

Doyoung sits back, watching Taeyong lapping at your cunt. He pumps his hand up and down his length letting out soft groans that mixed with yours and Taeyong's.

Your breaths begin to get more feverish and despite Taeyong's holding your hips down, your hips are writhing and grinding against his face. Just as you are about to come he pulls away, ceasing all of his contact with you.

"For fuck's sake!" You whine.

Fucking tease.

You whimper and frown, letting your head fall back against the pillows. Taeyong clears his throat, catching your attention “Think you can take both of us, baby?” He asks with a devilish smirk.

You nod your head. "The question is, can you take me?"

Before you know it you are seated atop Doyoung while laid at an upright angle, positioning him over your entrance and sinking down onto his length. Your mouth hangs open and you let out a shaky sigh feeling him fill your tight pussy before you lean forward, moving your hips against him.

Doyoung grips your hips tightly and bucks against them as you bury your face into his shoulder. He cups your face, pulling you into a soft kiss and moving his mouth against yours, taking your lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it. You moan into his mouth when you feel Taeyong's well lubed fingers against your ass and spread your legs more. Taeyong inserts one of his fingers into your tight hole, pumping his fingers into your slowly to loosen you.

Even without Taeyong's full length inside you, you still feel incredibly full, feeling them both moving against you and keeping pace with each other. You rock back onto Taeyong's finger as he inserts a second one and moans in Doyoung's ear. His hips sharply slap against yours, rocking you against Taeyong's fingers.

When he pulls them from you, you frown at the loss of fullness. But it's quickly replaced with a moan when you feel his length pushing against you and slowly entering your ass. You grip onto Doyoung's shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. The pressure between your legs is unbelievable.

They sit for a moment, allowing you to adjust to having both holes filled and waiting for you to give them the okay to move. You sit up lightly, and let out a shaky breath “It’s okay, you can move.” You say, your voice ragged.

Doyoung is the first to move, setting the pace and slowly moving in and out of your cunt while Taeyong follows suit. You moan, feeling them both rubbing against you and letting out a high pitched whine at the new foreign feeling. Taeyong kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders, licking over the dark marks he leaves in his wake while he rutted against you. He lets out soft gasps feeling your tightness around him and begins to thrust harder and harder, causing you to fuck yourself on Doyoung's cock. He leans over, planting his hands on either side of you and Doyoung to get a steady foundation as he pounds his hips into you frantically.

“Fuck, you’re taking us so well.” He grunts in your ear, “Feel good having Taeyong and I fucking you so well?” He asks.

You let out a high pitched moan, feeling Doyoung brushing against that spot that drives you crazy. “Oh, fuck,” You gasp. “Yes, fuck Doyoung, you and Taeyong feel so good.”

You feel Taeyong kissing the side of your face and neck, so you turn towards him and awkwardly capture his mouth with a sloppy kiss before you turn towards Doyoung, placing your lips against his. He swallows your moans while he and Taeyong continue to thrust into you.

Taeyong and Doyoung's thrusts slow, and you see his hand come up, brushing some hair from Taeyong's face and watch the tender touches intently before you see Taeyong lean in. Doyoung's hand cups his face softly and their lips touch and move against each other with familiar motions. Taeyong pulls away and glances at you before pulling you into a kiss, it's slow and erotic. His mouth feels hot against yours and you can't help but preen into their slow thrusts.

Your walls clench, causing Doyoung to pull away from the searing kiss and hiss out, “You close, baby?” he asks, reaching his hand down between your legs and rubbing harsh circles around your clit.

You nod, squirming against his touch and crying out once they begin to pick up their pace again, “Yes, yes, yes,” You chant, your brain unable to form any other words.

The string in your belly begins to ware dangerously thin before it finally breaks. Your walls clench and pulsate, and your mouth hang open as you let out a strangled moan.

The two men begin to rut into you at an unforgiving pace and desperately chase their release, your arms shake before they finally give out. You lay against Doyoung's chest as he holds you tightly against him, “Come on, darling, I know you’ve got one more for us.” He says, bucking his hips into your still sensitive pussy.

You sob out, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. You are sweaty and look like a fucking mess, but he is right. With no time to recover from your first orgasm, your second one begins to rapidly approach. The familiar warm feeling spreads from your belly and creeps up the back of your neck as your back begins to arch, pressing your chest against Doyoung and your head falling back.

Taeyong reaches up, gripping your hair and holding your head in place, forcing your back to remain curved “Be a good girl and come for us again,” He growls into your ear.

You groan, clenching your jaw and digging your fingernails into Taeyong's shoulders, raking them down as your second orgasm washes over you. You cry out and your chest heaves as you fall forward onto Taeyong's shoulder. Taeyong moans, chasing his release holding you tightly.

The three of you sit slumped and catching your breath, attempting to calm yourselves from the excitement of your previous activities. Your whole body aches, and you look as though you have been through hell and back.

"Oh fuck," you say, your head against the pillows. "Fuck, my body aches."

"Are you okay, love?" Doyoung places a hand on your head. "Were we too rough?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, I'll just... need a moment."

And the next morning, you wake up limbing and for that, Taeyong and Doyoung won't stop making fun.

(...)

It has been two weeks since the events. You’re back to work and you’re thankful that your mind is occupied with different stuff. You ask Donghyuck to stuff you with work and he does as you do. He tells you everyone in the office missed you and they’re happy you’re back.

After the day’s over, you drive to Jaehyun and Johnny’s house. Of course they won’t stop asking questions about everything that happened. You tell them and Jaehyun freaks out and gets angry because he didn’t know you almost drowned to death.

Johnny reassures him, telling him that everything is fine and that you are fine, which is the most important thing. Jaehyun sighs. “What about Jackson?” Jaehyun inquiries.

You shrug. “No one has heard from him since that night.”

“Maybe he fled the country?” Johnny says.

“I don’t care,” you rub your chin. “Can I see Aera?”

“Sure,” Jaehyun smiles and stands up.

The three of you walk to Aera’s room and as you go upstairs, Jaehyun spots the marks on your neck. “Try at least covering them up, bitch.”

You laugh. “Shut up, Jaehyun.”

“Working on a baby already?” Johnny smiles as he opens the door.

“Not yet, I could say we’re practising,” you grin.

“Wait,” Jaehyun looks at you. “Are you trying to get pregnant? For real?”

You nod, holding Aera. “I mean, I got off birth control a month ago, it’s not going to be easy but why shouldn’t we have fun?”

“I hate you so much right now,” Jaehyun groans. “Johnny and I used to have sex 6 times a week, now the man falls sleep every second. I am sleep and sex deprivaved.”

You burst out laughing and Johnny rolls his eyes. “Fatherhood is not easy, and apparently I’m the father of 2.”

“I need to have sex ASAP,” Jaehyun sighs.

“I could take care of Aera so you guys can have a date,” you smile. “She seems to love me.”

“Really? You don’t mind?” Johnny looks at you.

“Yeah,” you say and looks at Aera in awe when she holds your index finger. “We’re besties already.”

“You’re the best!” Jaehyun smiles.

So on Friday, after leaving the office you arrive home with a baby carrier, a diaper bag and Aera inside the baby carrier.

Doyoung and Taeyong are already home and it is Taeyong who notices your little companion. "I hope you didn't kidnap her."

You laugh. “You caught me.”

Doyoung approaches Aera and smiles at her. “Hi beautiful, what are you doing with this little witch?”

“I’m right here, you ass,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Language, my love.” Doyoung glances at you.

“Stop perturbing this little princess,” Taeyong takes Aera out of the baby carrier. “Hi cutie.”

You place the baby carrier on the floor and the diaper bag on the couch. “Can you guys watch her while I make her a bottle?”

“Yes, of course,” Taeyong says, not paying attention to you.

“Come on, Taeyong. Let me hold her,” Doyoung complains.

“Give me a minute, we’re playing,” Taeyong replies.

You smile as you prepare her bottle.

For the first time in many time, you feel happy and excited for what’s to come.

#doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #doyoung imagine #doyoung nct #taeyong nct #taeyong smut #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagine #Johnny smut #jaehyun smut #dotae smut #dotae x reader

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kakakakashi · 4 years ago

Text

Hokage’s Office: The Chair

100 Follower Celebration - Day 1

Kakashi Hatake x Reader || NSFW

Warnings: porn without plot, Kakashi’s filthy mouth, cursing, I mean what else do you want me to say? You all know what this is. I’ve been hyping it up for like a month.

Word count: 2,686

A/N: Guys... it’s here... It’s... something. I mean, it’s not as great as I hoped, but at least I did it. Also, we’re going to put 100% of all of these under the cut for lots of reasons.

He had that look in his eye when he realized it was you who’d opened the door. The one that practically screams twelve emotions at the same time.

You were his saving grace, and he was so grateful for the dinner you brought with you. He was sorry that he wasn’t home, even though you’d assured him hundreds of times that it was okay. Please take him away from this cursed job he didn’t even want. He would quit if he could. He forgot how amazing you looked in your uniform.

All of these thoughts flashed in Kakashi’s brain, but there was one that screamed much louder than the rest. He wanted you more than anything.

“Thanks,” Kakashi mumbled when you placed the Ichiraku Ramen bag atop a free spot on his desk, “You’re too good to me.”

You rounded his desk and chair only to glance at the paperwork he was reviewing over his shoulder. “You alright?” you inquired. Noticing how his broad, muscular shoulders were tensed, you gently massaged the muscles.

Kakashi finished up the paragraph he was on before he set the paper down and craned his neck towards you. He nodded in affirmation. “I’m alright, just a little stressed and wishing I was home.”

“Want me to help you relax?” you smirked, hands gently skimming from his shoulders down his chest.

You felt the way his lungs gasped in reaction to the touch. Goosebumps prickled across his skin while the blood in his veins seemed to move with traces of electricity. Simply seeing him react to such a slight caress had your own body at attention too.

In one swift motion, Kakashi swiveled his chair around, so your hands were now rested on his shoulders. He looked like a predator sizing you up that sinfully. The feral look in his eyes sparked a fire deep inside you, flaming across your skin to rest in your core, the beginnings of an ache only Kakashi could satisfy.

“Your dinner’s going to be cold.” It came out a lot breathier than you’d intended. Your pulse was beginning to pick up in anticipation.

Kakashi smirked from under his mask. He sat forward in his chair to place a palm across your hip. The other hand reached towards the fabric covering the bottom half of his face, and while he spoke, he hooked a digit on the edge and pulled it down. “Guess I’ll have dessert first then.”

His finger twisted into one of the loops at your hip, effectively yanking you into his lap and bringing you into a harsh kiss. He wasted no time wrapping his arms around you while you cupped his jaw to help deepen the kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, wasting no time in getting to the main event. You could feel your lips beginning to swell with the clashing of your embrace, but you couldn’t care any less.

Kakashi was already pawing at your breasts, and the sensation prompted a moan to break from your throat. The sound was muffled against Kakashi’s lips, but you could feel him smirk against you before he began to work his lips down your neck. His kisses were wet and open mouthed, nipping with sharp teeth every now and then, causing you to whimper in reply. The sensation of Kakashi’s mouth made your head spin, and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants rub against your thigh at the way you reacted to his touch. You had to ground yourself on his shoulders while your senses overwhelmed you, but you still couldn’t help yourself from moving your palm down his torso until you reached his half hard length. You ground your hand against him, feeling his member twitch and his muscles tense at the delicious friction. Even his mouth moaned against you while he kissed you, biting down harder to reprimand you for your attempt at controlling the situation.

When Kakashi pulled away from your neck, he practically growled. “Naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

One of his hands snaked around your ass to grope the flesh in his large hands before he playfully swatted as a signal for you to stand.

You followed his instructions after you placed a sweet kiss to his jaw as an attempt to apologize. He chuckled low in his chest, and the thought sent a wave of wetness flooding your core.

“Be a good girl and strip for me,” he commanded, his exposed eye was impossibly black, taking in every miniscule movement you made. Your shaking fingers slowly found the hem of your top, raising it over your head before discarding it on the floor. It could have been the cool air across your newly exposed skin, but you weren’t sure because of the way Kakashi was practically drinking in the sight before him. He could see your hardened nipples through the lace of your bra, and the sight made him want to rip the flimsy fabric off your body. However, he was distracted when you popped the button of your pants open while you gently chewed on your swollen lower lip. His throat bobbed with a swallow while you dragged the zipper down, exposing just the waistband of your panties.

His eyes traced up from the exposed fabric back to your mischievous eyes. “Did I say you could stop?” he inquired with a brow quirked.

Your only reply was the wiggle of your hips while you leisurely worked your pants off, stepping out of them and toeing off your sandals before you unhurriedly stalked towards his chair again. You knew he wasn’t in the mood for your teasing, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little bit. However, he took matters into his own hands, quickly unsheathing the kunai from his thigh, and in one fluid motion, he sliced through the last bits of lace. After returning his weapon to it’s rightful place, he reminded you, “Don’t test me. We both know who’s in charge here.”

Your breasts spilled from your bra, and the air that hit your wet folds made you shiver, and while you were distracted, Kakashi took the opportunity to sit you on one of his thighs.

“Be a good girl and play with your nipples for me,” the deep timbre of his voice practically cooed.

Your hands shakily moved to the plush flesh of your chest, kneading the weight in your hands a bit before you focused on your already pebbled nipples. You twisted them slightly and let out a whimper at the sensation. Static prickled under your skin from the friction, and you felt it jolt down to your core. You needed friction between your legs, so you tilted your hips to grind against Kakashi’s thigh. However, his hands gripped your hips tight.

You whined under your breath, but he raised a brow at you. “Did I say you could ride my thing?”

The shake of your head wasn’t enough for him. His fingers dug in harder, sure to leave purple prints across your hips tomorrow. “I asked you a question.”

“No, I’m sorry. Please, I need something.” You could tell by the look on his face that he was debating. Was he going to punish you for taking without asking, or was he going to give you what you asked for. “Please, please, Kakashi.”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He still held a devious look in his eye while he gazed at your flushed face.

It was a double-edged sword, so you didn’t answer, praying that you’d satisfy him enough to deal with the fire you felt burning inside you. “Please, I need you. I can’t take it.”

“Very well.”

Kakashi slapped your thigh playfully, guiding your hips so they were where he wanted them. Your weight was on your knees, outside of Kakashi’s, but your hips were above his. It took all of your willpower to keep yourself from grinding throbbing cunt grinding against the tent in his pants, but you knew you had to be good for him.

A gasp tore from your lungs, ending with a loud moan. The sound triggered by Kakashi’s fingers brushing against your practically dripping folds, pressing softly, and dragging your slick around until they found that little bud that made you keen for him.

His rough fingertips provided amazing friction while they circled your clit, and your back arched on it’s own accord. Fireworks sparked throughout your body at the sensation, and one of your hands clawed into Kakashi’s shoulder. Meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you, breath labored while he watched you writhe above him. He could feel his dick twitch at the sight of you looking so wrecked just from a little touch. Then, a lightbulb went off in his head.

His fingers paused their ministrations, making you whimper at the loss of friction. However, instead, they trailed down to circle your wet entrance.

His voice was rough, sending chills of arousal straight to where his fingers toyed. “Look how wet you are already. So needy for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Kakashi,” you sighed. Your head rolled back at the sensation of his fingers barely dipping into you while he teased you, your eyes squeezing shut. It was almost impossible to resist the urge to grab his hand and fuck yourself with his long, thick digits.

A low chuckle from the man below you made your hips twitch a slight bit. It spurred him on, though. He was biting his swollen lower lip, and you noticed him shift uncomfortably in his spot. Without any other warning, he sunk one of his fingers into you all the way down to the knuckle. He didn’t even bother to take off the fingerless gloves he always wore.

You moaned out at the welcome intrusion, clenching around the single digit. If anyone else was in the building at this hour, you were sure they could hear it, but you couldn’t find it in you to care when Kakashi curled his finger so deliciously against you.

The previous attention to your clit was quickly replaced by the gloved heel of his palm, pressing against the bud while he continued pumping his fingers. The fabric provided a wonderful sensation, and your brain started shutting down. Not to mention, Kakashi could feel your wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his palm. He seemed to be getting off on it all because you noticed him trying to palm himself through his pants.

“You want another?” he practically smirked. All you could do was nod in response before Kakashi obliged, slipping another finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation of him stretching you out further, scissoring his digits inside you a bit before he ceased all his movements. A lightbulb went off in that moment while you tried to keep from writhing on his fingers. “Fuck yourself on my fingers like the needy little girl you are.”

The look in his eye at had you clenching around his fingers, and it made him smile in victory. All you could do was pant in that moment, taken aback by his request. Although, it didn’t take you long to start moving your hips, using your free hand to guide his wrist while you tried to mimic Kakashi’s previous actions.

Inside your gut, you could feel the beginnings of an orgasm bubbling up, and you tried to work Kakashi’s fingers deeper and deeper with each drag. However, your body jolted in surprise when you found that little spot inside you that made you see stars. Your grip on Kakashi’s wrist tightened, and he encouraged you, “There it is.”

You cried out, rocking your hips into his hand, making sure you were catching all of the little nerves you could. The fire inside you began to consume you while your movements became more desperate and jerky. The white-hot pleasure was so close with each squelching thrust meeting Kakashi’s fingers.

“Look at you,” he panted out, his other hand undoing his pants, “desperately fucking yourself on my fingers with that pretty little pussy. You look so good like this, so desperate to cum.”

“Yes! Kakashi! Yes! I’m so close!” You could feel your body approaching its limit. The sounds spilling from your mouth and his both spurring you on, but Kakashi’s voice made you whine out again.

“Did I say you could cum?” Just when you were twitching around him at your breaking point, he broke out of your hold and retracted his hand. Your dripping heat clenched around nothing, feeling impossibly empty with the loss of his fingers. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

“Yes, sir,” you affirmed, palms immediately taking Kakashi out of his pants and underwear, giving him a few strokes before greedily positioning yourself atop him. However, Kakashi’s fingers grabbed your hips before you could sink onto him.

You noted his slick fingers and dampened glove, and it made heat rush to your cheeks. However, Kakashi just smirked at your realization. “You seemed to enjoy that, didn’t you. Now, I just need you to calm down a little for me. Don’t want you finishing too soon, now do we?”

You shook your head at him before he took his time, drinking in every inch of exposed skin across your body while his fingers traced up and down your skin with soothing caresses. However, once your breathing evened a tad, his lips dove into yours for a desperate kiss. While his mouth crashed against yours, he guided his tip to your entrance and slowly slid you down until he was completely sheathed inside you. The both of you let out a sinful moan at the feeling of him stretching you out, and it felt so right. You always felt impossibly full when Kakashi fucked you, but somehow, int that moment, you felt like you were going to explode.

You barely had time to adjust before Kakashi was guiding your hips atop him, helping you fuck him the way he wanted. It had you clenching around his length each time he’d enter you, and you clung to him for support. Gradually, the two of you built up a pace that had you bouncing on his dick, and you were practically shaking when he groaned into your ear.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, “You feel so good around my cock. Touch yourself while you ride me.”

You moaned at his words, but you followed instruction. One of your hands moved down to touch your swollen clit, rubbing it frantically in an attempt to reach the high you’d been denied. It didn’t take long for you to start fluttering around him, that electricity flowing through your veins igniting inside the both of you.

“You’re so close,” Kakashi remarked, “You gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?”

“Yes, Kakashi! Yes!” you cried out, your hips beginning to stutter, but Kakashi guided you through it. The coil in your core was about to break with the way Kakashi had your hips crashing into his, and you were clawing you way to your peak.

It was all over when Kakashi began to move his own hips out of desperation, meeting your thrusts with his own, shoving himself as deep as your bodies would allow. He twitched inside you, signaling that his own orgasm was quickly approaching, and the thought of him about to cum inside you sent you toppling over the edge. The spring in your stomach snapped, and you clenched around Kakashi’s length with a cry of his name. Your entire body shook with the shockwaves of absolute delight. Your body was screaming with pleasure while Kakashi thrusted into you a few final times, finding his own release thanks to yours. The sensation of his hot seed painting your insides kept your orgasmic haze going while the both of you rode out the waves of pleasure.

Once the two of you stilled, you collapsed atop of him in his chair in a mess of sticky limbs. You really needed to bring him dinner more often.

#cherry's 100 follower celebration #naruto imagines #kakashi x reader #cherry has ideas sometimes #hi. i’m cherry queen of the sin bin.#100 #cherry posts about ninja nerds

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delimeful · 5 years ago

Text

the shapes in the silence (10)

this fic requested by @fromsomewhereoverthere as a giveaway prize! thank you for your patience!

warnings: crying, repression, people misunderstanding/talking over each other, virgil’s awful no good dissociation, negative talk

Chapter 10

Virgil wasn’t surprised when he woke up on the edge of Patton’s bed distinctly not tiny-dragon-shaped, the moral side starfished out beside him.

Of course, not being surprised didn’t mean not being very, very panicked, especially when Patton began to sleepmumble indistinctly. It was as sure a sign as any that he was going to be waking up soon.

Luckily, Patton was much less clingy in sleep than Roman had been, with only a hand thrown over Virgil’s shoulder and an ankle twining under his leg. It was easy enough to sidle away, right up until the mattress disappeared from under him and his stomach lurched as he fell right off the side of the bed with a yelp.

“Humh?” Patton grunted, blankets shifting, and Virgil did the first thing that came to mind with his whole brain in a screaming panic. He rolled under the bed.

There was the creaking of bedsprings above him, and then a muffled yawn. “Mmgh. Puff? Where’re you, buddy?”

Two feet swung over the edge of the bed to plant themselves on the carpet, and Virgil felt blood rushing in his ears as though he was about to pass out. He’d tried to convince himself last night that maybe Patton wouldn’t be disgusted if he found out, but he knew what kind of luck he had, and it wasn’t the kind that was generous with maybes.

Feet away, Patton got on his hands and knees to peer under the bed. Virgil shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see his expression when he finally realized who “Puff” really was.

There was a pause that felt both too long and too short as Patton shifted again, and then gasped...

“There you are, little guy!”

Virgil opened his eyes, blinking in surprise at the sight of tiny talons instead of fingers in front of him. He’d changed back? He hadn’t been able to while he was on the bed with Patton, or even earlier, tangled up with Roman. What was different?

Patton wasn’t privy to his confusion, laying flat on his stomach and reaching out a coaxing hand. “Did you have a nightmare, Puff? It’s okay, it’s not real. I know sometimes things seem scary, but we’re together, okay?”

Virgil shook himself, focusing back on the matter at hand. He could worry about his scaly ailment’s odd restrictions later. For now, he had to convince Patton to stop shoving all his bad feelings down.

He slunk out from under the bed, brushing against the back of Patton’s hand as he went, and sat right in front of the moral side’s face, inspecting him sharply. Don’t think I forgot about yesterday, he tried to convey with a glare.

Patton barely even blinked at a mythical creature full of sharp teeth and claws getting in his space, because that was just the kind of person he was. At the look, he did have the grace to at least appear sheepish.

“Hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry about me, I’m all better now, see?” He spread his arms out like he was attempting to make a snow angel face-first. “Back to normal size and everything, not a single problem here--!”

A sharp pop that made Virgil recoil with a squeak, and Patton laid before him once again at a diminutive five inches. He sat up with a frown. “Fiddlesticks.”

Virgil couldn’t make a sarcastic comment about language, so instead he churred at Patton, unimpressed.

“Okay,” Patton sighed, “I guess maybe we should go talk to the others, huh?”

---

One jaunt over to the commons later, Virgil stood a vigilant guard as Patton showed the others his new stature.

“And you’re certain no curse triggered it?” Roman asked again, looking troubled. “You weren’t poking at any of my gifts from the imagination or anything?”

“Nope,” Patton answered, stretching his shoulders absently. “I was just curled up on the floor with Puff, ‘cause he seemed like he could use a hug from a friend, and I…”

His voice trailed off weakly, a brittle smile beginning to form, and Virgil leaned down to bump his head against Patton’s shoulder in gentle remonstration. Patton stared at him for a long moment, smile still half-frozen on his face, and then let the expression crumple.

“... I think I needed a friend hug, too.”

Roman and Logan exchanged panicked glances for a moment, and Virgil huffed a small puff of smoke at them pointedly. Huh. He hadn’t known he could do that.

Before either of them could speak, however, Patton shifted back to normal with a pop and some flailing that knocked over most of the objects nearby. Virgil jumped nimbly to the couch to be out of range. In hindsight, they probably shouldn’t have people who were going to abruptly jump in size stand on a slightly-messy table.

Patton sniffled, adjusting his disheveled glasses, moving to roll off the table. He looked like he was on the brink of apologizing for his feelings again, so Virgil growled and scaled Roman’s arm to reach his shoulder, cuffing him over the head with a wing. Show him support, already!

Roman shot him an offended look, but moved forwards anyhow, offering Patton a hand up. The moral side took it and then was promptly tugged into a hug, Princey lifting him right off the ground for a moment. Still clinging to Roman’s shoulder, Virgil could see Patton’s surprised expression relax and descend into small sobs as he finally let go.

“Hey, hey,” Roman offered soothingly. “Don’t worry about it, Pat. We all have our bad days, nothing wrong with that.”

Patton shook his head slightly, but didn’t say anything to the contrary, and Virgil leaned forwards to gently butt foreheads with him before Roman finally released him.

“How about we help you with breakfast? I can fry up some excellent bacon, if I do say so myself, and Specs is excellent at waffle measurements.” Roman winked, leaning in to stage whisper to Patton. “I'm sure we can sneak in some chocolate chips by the time the batter is ready.”

Logan rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and exchanging his normal attire for an apron with the NASA logo on it. “With the advantage I have in attention span, I believe my waffles are at no real risk from the two of you.”

Roman gasped in outrage, and Patton managed a teary chuckle. “You’re going to eat those words! And some delicious chocolate chip waffles!”

Virgil balanced delicately on Roman’s shoulders as they all moved to the kitchen, and he chirped in warning before using the creative side as a springboard to clamber up the side of the fridge. Princey snorted at his scramble, but before long all three of the human-shaped sides were busy bustling around the kitchen and Virgil was free to curl up on top of his excellent vantage point and take a well-deserved nap.

“Anxiety?”

Virgil jerked awake automatically, half-ready to duck away from a blow and snarl a retort, but-- he glanced down at his talons. Still Puff. Then, what…?

“Padre, I know you try to see the best in everyone, but I don’t want that guy anywhere near Puff,” Roman was saying, piling the last pieces of crisp bacon onto a plate with a little more force than necessary. “You should’ve heard the way he talked about him, it just makes me— ugh!”

He threw his hands up emphatically, and stalked over to the dining table to set the plate down. Patton followed with a dish of waffles stacked high, looking conflicted. Virgil absently noted that Logan had let them get the chocolate chips in after all.

“I know, they don’t seem to get along, but maybe if we all just sat at a dinner together…” he tried, but his voice was weak.

“For once, I have to agree with Roman,” Logan chimed in, carrying a cup of freshly poured coffee to his seat. “Even without Puff to take into account, I suspect that strong negative emotion is the last thing Morality needs to deal with right now.”

“And we all know that’s what Anxiety will bring to the table,” Roman added, stabbing a fork viciously into his waffle. “That Negative Nancy never has anything nice to say to anyone.”

“I… I guess,” Patton said, moving to sit in his own chair with one last look cast over to the stairs.

Virgil felt a tightening in his throat that probably meant he was going to be all sorts of emotional about this moment later, when he was human. Sometimes the anxiety-dampening feature this form came with was handy, he reflected as he glided down to the floor with only a little wobbling. It wouldn’t do him any good to be acting sad when they weren’t even talking about him.

Something in his mind twinged. He slowed his trot across the carpet for a moment, reviewing his last thought.

… Puff. They weren’t talking about Puff. He was still Anxiety, like it or not.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, shooting him a smile before leaning over to offer him an arm up. He shook the errant thoughts away, deciding that he should eat first.

It was better that they didn’t go get Anxiety anyways. Then he’d have to sneak off to play his role or risk them getting suspicious of an empty room. Between being forced through another tense, glare-filled breakfast as Anxiety or sitting content as the tiny dragon people actually liked, the latter was clearly the better option. It just made sense. Who would want Anxiety over Puff, anyways?

“Speaking of Puff,” Logan started, nodding at him politely, “I was considering the shrinking occurrences again while cooking. Morality, you said Puff was there when you first reduced in size, correct?”

“Mmhm!” Patton hummed through a mouthful of waffle. Virgil paused in dragging another piece of bacon to himself to tilt his head at Logan curiously.

“Roman, you believed your reduced size was due to a curse, but Puff was also with you when you first transformed, was he not?”

“Well, yes, but I’m not entirely sure I like where you’re going with this,” Roman said, frowning. “Surely you can’t be implying that Puff is the cause?”

Logan didn’t falter, pushing his glasses up slightly as he peered at Virgil. “He is currently the only constant variable in the two cases, seeing as neither I nor Anxiety have been subject to this… shrinking phenomenon. We still don’t know where he came from, and—“

“Stop right there, Specs. First Anxiety, now you? There is nothing bad about Puff!” Roman insisted, and if Virgil wasn’t so busy watching the two of them glare, he would have laughed.

“That’s not what I was—“

“Roman’s right, kiddo,” Patton cut in this time, placing a hand on Virgil’s ridged back supportively. “I know you want to get to the bottom of this, but that’s no reason to start accusing friends.”

Logan took a deep breath. “I know that, I’m simply suggesting that we investigate all possible causes. Unless you want to be left doll-sized without warning at random periods?”

“I think we’re learning to handle it pretty well,” Patton offered optimistically. Roman nodded, looking a bit smug.

“Personally, I've had enough practice that I’m confident I can reverse the transformation at will! You’re falling behind, Snorelock Holmes.”

Virgil ducked back slightly, watching as Logan visibly grit his teeth. “I—“ he faltered for a moment, lips thinning, and then stood. “I am going to retire to my room. I will speak with you all at a later date.”

He immediately sunk out, ignoring Patton’s protests. Roman rolled his eyes, and then visibly remembered that he was supposed to be cheering Patton up and turned back to the moral side. “Look, we’ll let Calculator Watch cool his jets by doing sudoku puzzles or whatever it is he enjoys. In the meantime, I was thinking of having a movie marathon, which you are most certainly invited to. Maybe some classic Disney will lift your spirits?”

Patton nodded slowly, still looking slightly troubled. “It feels wrong to let him storm off like that, but I don’t want to make him upset by pushing…”

“Then it’s settled!” Roman decreed, rising to his feet and sweeping a few dishes off the table into his hands. “I’ll clean up here and prepare some snacks-- other than myself-- so you go pick a movie to start with.”

Virgil left the last piece of bacon on his plate untouched, appetite suddenly gone as a strange compulsion tugged at his chest. He jumped down to follow Patton over to the couch, and then slowly ambled over to the stairs as Patton began shifting through their movie cabinet. If he could just make his motions casual enough...

“Puff? Where’re you going, buddy?”

Virgil twisted to peer over his shoulder at Patton, who seemed curious but thankfully not upset. He glanced up at the hall that led to Logan’s room, and then back to Patton. Wasn’t it obvious?

“You’re gonna go check on Logan?” Patton asked, and Virgil hopped up another step in confirmation, waiting to see what the moral side thought. “I see… Maybe you’ll know what to do better than I do. Stay safe, okay?”

That was a relief. If it had been Roman, he probably would have had a much more difficult time scampering off. The prince was bizarrely attached to his dragon self.

He chirped once and continued to scale the stairs, claws finding easy purchase on the carpeted corners. It was only once he’d vanished from view that he began to slow, wondering what exactly his plan was. Logan was upset, that much he knew, but how could he fix it? He was Anxiety, and dark sides weren’t really known for ‘fixing’ things.

There was another tug in his chest, an urge to go-find-protect that only increased with his certainty that Logan was hurting. He took a deep breath, shaking his wings out. First things first, there was no way Logan wanted to see him like this, not after his theory about Puff was the reason he’d gotten agitated in the first place.

Not to mention, he didn’t particularly want to reveal anything more about Puff to the intelligent side when he barely knew what was going on himself. He focused for a moment, closing his eyes and pulling for the harsh cold edges of his real form. When he opened his eyes again, the world around him was visible from a human eye level once more, and his lungs felt as though they were being constricted.

He stuttered through a few shallow inhales, and then firmly stomped down the panic and racing thoughts down before they could reverse his transformation. He was Anxiety now, and that meant everything that came with it. He’d deal with the panic attack later.

Unfortunately, including his less-than-popular social status, he reflected as he knocked on Logan’s door for the third time. “Logic, it’s me-- shoot, I guess we all kind of sound the same, huh? It’s Anxiety. Are you going to let me in or not?”

Silence.

“What, did you drown in a lab sample or something? Come on, I know you can hear me.”

Not a peep from behind the door, but the certainty that Logan was feeling threatened and overwhelmed only increased. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides for a few moments, and then he growled in frustration. “Screw it, I’m going in.”

Surprisingly, Logan’s door wasn’t locked, the handle twisting easily under his grip. He entered with careful steps and stopped short. It wasn’t a particularly large room, professional-looking with not many places to hide. Logan wasn’t visible on the bed or at his desk, and he didn’t seem the type to dive into a closet to hide from someone.

Despite the evidence before his eyes, he knew that Logan had to be in the room, which meant that he was tiny. Everyone in this part of the mindscape had officially had a turn, it seemed. Virgil forced his thoughts away from that line of thinking, since he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack at the moment.

“Logan? I know you’re in here, dude.” After a moment of hesitation, he knelt on the floor, watching the ground carefully.

There. He doubted he’d have caught it if he wasn’t Anxiety, but there had been the slightest movement in the corner of his eye, under the desk. Without thinking, he turned his head to look closer, and was rewarded with the sight of a tiny form stumbling back a few panicked steps.

“Hey-- wait!” Virgil lunged forwards, chin meeting carpet as he just barely reached his goal. He heard Logan yelp as hands bracketed into a curved shape around him, the tiny side backing into his fingers for a moment before jerking away.

“Anx— Anxiety, what is the meaning of this?” Logan said, tilting his chin up and trying to conceal the way he was slightly shaky. Afraid of him.

Virgil kept his hands still, resisting the urge to scowl. “Relax. I’m not going to grab you. Here, just—” He glanced behind Logan, and nudged him forwards slightly, ignoring the glower sent his way with practiced ease. Once he deemed the nerd secure, he pulled his hands away, propping himself up on his elbows.

“If you’re finished assaulting my person, I’d appreciate an explanation. Now,” Logan demanded, looking increasingly exasperated.

Virgil rolled his eyes, pointing. “You were about to take a nosedive, Pocket Protector.”

Logan turned and blinked at the open heating duct on the floor under the desk. The one he’d been about to trip back onto, resulting in at best a sore backside and at worst a bone-breaking fall. “... I see. Well, you have my gratitude, though I doubt I would have encountered such a difficulty if you hadn’t decided to intrude upon my abode.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes, and Logan coughed tactfully before continuing. “It’s irrelevant now. What was it that you needed?”

“Me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s literally pint-sized at the moment.”

“I would estimate my current height is closer to a half-pint,” Logan corrected, “and regardless, it’s none of your concern.”

“It’s my concern when it means I could be next,” he countered, thinking fast. “You’re Thomas’s intellect, you’ve got to have some idea of what’s happening. Why it’s happening.”

“I do have a hypothesis, however, regarding--” Logan cut himself off, face falling into a frown. Virgil could see the wheels turning in his little head, and resisted the urge to wince. “You were eavesdropping.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Virgil answered anyways with an echo of his usual smirk. “Remember, I’m always listening.”

“You only listen to yourself,” Logan snapped back with surprising ferocity. Virgil opened his mouth, but the logical side wasn’t done. “You’re the same as the others, too emotional to actually use your brain for anything but your own feedback loop. You’re only listening to me because you think I'm on your side of this conflict.”

“That’s not true,” Virgil interjected, shifting to sit up with a frown. Logan took another step away, craning his neck up, but didn’t back down.

“Oh?” Logan said, sounding incredulous enough to make Virgil’s hackles rise. “What would you think, then, if I said that I believed Puff wasn't behaving maliciously?”

Virgil bit his tongue on his instinctive response, forcing himself to take a moment and think about the suggestion without letting any of his insider knowledge of the situation slip. If Patton had found a sentient monster that everyone seemed to love, and then everyone exposed to it had started shifting mass at around the same time? Yeah, he would absolutely have a healthy suspicion, and more than a few conspiracy theories on the topic.

The real question was, would he be restrained enough to trust Logan’s judgement? He hesitated.

“Look, I can’t not be suspicious, but…,” Virgil sighed at the slight slump of Logan’s shoulders. “Ugh, whatever. You’ve spent more time near that little monster than me. If you think it isn't trying to hurt anyone on purpose, then fine, I’ll follow your lead until-- I mean, unless-- unless things get dicey.”

“You… are being genuine.” The scrutinizing look that Logan gave him was almost insulting, but fair. He was still a dark side, after all, and even now he was hiding his actual motivations to keep himself safe.

Virgil shrugged. “You generally know what you’re talking about. It’d be stupid not to listen to you, and I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I leave that to Princey-- woah!”

With a loud thunk, Logan had returned to his normal size, half his body knocking against the underside of the desk. Virgil did wince this time. “Ouch.”

Of course, when he emerged from under the desk, necktie askew, he barely even seemed to notice the bump, eyes alight as he looked at his hands. “Did you see that?”

“A bit hard to miss,” Virgil muttered, and was promptly ignored as Logan scrambled through a pile of notebooks for the right one to jot his new findings down in, mumbling to himself about triggers and overlapping variables.

Virgil sighed in faux annoyance, careful to conceal the relieved smile he felt coming on at the sight of a return to status quo. “Alright, nerd, I’m leaving. Remember to sleep, or Thomas will stay up on wikipedia all night, and I’ll make him google creepypasta as payback.”

“Wait, Anxiety,” Logan looked up, his pen stilling on the page. “You do know that if you ever suffer from this affliction, you can reach out, correct? I’m aware we are not always on the best of terms, but such a shift can be… disorienting, to say the least. It would be illogical of me to leave you to face it alone.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “I know. Don’t worry, Teach, I’m aware that you want to know about every instance of this shrinking thing.”

Logan frowned as though he wanted to say something else that might embarrass them both, so Virgil spared him the effort by saluting shortly before sinking out.

As soon as he was in the hall again, he knocked a fist to his shoulder in a self-soothing motion, panic rising up like a wave. He’d promised himself he’d deal with these feelings, but with them bearing down on him like this…

He turned towards the faint sound of Lilo & Stitch in the commons, and released his grip on his human form, feeling the stress fade into the background as he became Puff again.

He could afford a little more time like this, couldn’t he?

#sanders sides #g/t #ts virgil #tiny dragon virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #tsits #the shapes in the silence #writing #my writing #ominous stockholm syndrome is ominous #i think this is the longest chapter ive written for tsits #i hope that helps make up for the like five month delay #T-T #ask to tag #yes i am posting this at the witching hour no you cannot stop me

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the-swedes-knees · 4 years ago

Text

Human Resources - The Swedes x Reader

Did I make a tumblr just to post a birthday present for @jossambird? Yes, yes I did.

Rating: Everyone

Pairing: Reader/Swede(pick your favorite)

It had started like any other work day at the Temps Commission. The case management room was silent aside from the rapid clicking of typewriter keys and the rustling of papers as employees cross checked their historical references. You were just another cog in the machine, expected to work efficiently and follow every rule in the handbook down to the letter.

Which is why it was a surprise when your supervisor placed the summons to HR on your desk.

"Cheryl." You greeted the HR representative coldly as you entered the meeting room. She glared at you as you went to take a seat, not even bothering to say your name. There wasn't a clear reason why she had been gunning for you the past few months but you suspected that it had something to do with the last company Christmas party. Or rather the point in the Christmas party when she had become dangerously intoxicated and you had walked her back to her living quarters instead of letting her fulfill her desires of making thinly veiled sexual innuendos to coworkers.

One might assume that kind of story would lead to a friendship, or at least a funny story to laugh about together...

"Do you know why you're here?" But apparently Cheryl didn't think so. When you crossed your arms and shook your head no she let out a catty hiss of disapproval. "Well this shouldn't be a shock, but I've opened up a sexual harassment investigation against you."

Your face hardened and your eyes shot to the folder that was placed in front of you, identical to the one infront of her and three more like it on the opposite side of the table.

"That can't be right... who - " The end of your question died on your lips as the three temporal assassins entered the room and sat down at the table across from you. Almost in perfect unison the three tall Swedish men regarded your presence before turning their attention to the woman at the head of the table.

Axel, Otto, and Oscar. More commonly referred to as simply The Swedes. You had handled a fair number of their cases in your career, and they were certainly some of the best the Commission had to offer. They were all handsome in their own right. Strong, stoic, and silent... but you had only admired them from afar, just sparing glances in passing through the massive building complex.

You weren't sure what drew you to them, like a moth to a flame. But just those sparing glances had ruined any other romantic prospects for you.

"Thank you for coming. I'm aware how busy the three of you are, but this matter simply demands to be addressed." She said smugly before turning back to you and opening the manila envelope that was placed perfectly perpendicular to her.

"In recent case number A-96353 you wrote an extra message to the Swedes that was not approved by your supervisor. Is this correct?" Cheryl asked your pointedly.

"Yes." You admitted, squaring your shoulders a little bit more as the reality of the current situation began to dawn on you.

"For the record, can you please recount what that message was?" She asked. You took a deep breath and kept your eyes focused on her. There was an evident threat of heat creeping up to your cheeks, but if this was some sort of weird power play, you didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"I believe I wrote 'good luck boys' on the bottom of their assignment." You admitted in an even tone.

"Is that all?"

"I may have also drawn a small heart." You said through slightly gritted teeth. "I've already received infractions for that offense. It won't happen again."

You turned your body to face the three men, and bowed your head slightly in shame. Even though you had gone through getting slapped on the wrist and mandatory behavioral classes for not following protocol, it wasn't their fault that your attraction to them had led to your immature urge to flirt on the job. Even if the flirt was hardly a flirt, and it was sent via tube with a kill order.

"I apologize, for my unprofessionalism." You said sincerely, beginning to rise from your seat to leave this waste of everyone's time.

"Well there is also the case of these little locker room comments."

"I-I don't know what you're referring to." You froze as she sifted through her folder, placing her pen on the page as she began to read a section of notes verbatim.

"He could punch me in the face and I would thank him for it." She read with as much enthusiasm as a young fast food worker making minimum wage. Your heart throbbed in your chest wildly as you stared at Cheryl in disbelief. "Does that sound familiar?"

"Yes..." You croaked out softly, all moisture seeming to have left your mouth. Your eyes darted to look down at your lap, your fingernails suddenly much more interesting than the three assassins that were openly staring at your from across the table. The sound of rustling papers caught your ears as the men began to read through the reports for themselves, but suddenly you couldn't seen to move a muscle.

There was no telling who had overheard that particular comment from the water cooler, but it was just one comment... If you could shake off this terrible sense of dread and embarrassment you could chalk it up to a simple misunderstanding -

"Time and date 0923845753: I would pay him to crush my pelvis." She continued to read from the file in front of her in a monotone voice. In potentially the dumbest reaction possible your eyes darted across the table and made direct eye contact with Axel as the comment was read. His face was unreadable, but those blue eyes pierced into you so deeply you may has well have died right on the spot.

"Time and date 0202493192: God must be a woman to make men that fine." You decided that there was no God, if there was then he or she or whatever omnipotent being they were would have pity on your soul and allow your body to combust into flames instead of sitting there.

"Time and date 0221527010: He can break all two-hundred and seven of my bones." There was no blood left in your face, you were sure of it. It pulsed rapidly and loudly through your thudding heart and directly into your ears. Your brain couldn't pick between being embarrassed or downright mortified, a violent chill settling into your bones as the startling realization settled over you... this was the end... your life was over... just because you found the three men a few feet away from you devilishly handsome and you couldn't keep your damn horny mouth shut.

"Time and date 0940251637: I would let him step on my throat."

"Oh that one was actually-" You held up a finger to correct that that particular comment was made by your friend in payroll whom which you shared a similar horny braincell, but quickly decided against it. "You know what, I'll take responsibility for all of them... there's really no need to keep reading."

"For the case of this investigations, were all of these inappropriate comments directed at an individual or a collective?"

"It was, it was um... all. All of them."

"Any one of these comments could be classified as a serious offense, and you are in clear violation of several company policies." Her words barely registered in the haze that set in around you. This was it, your life was ruined... you were dead, and this was hell, it had to be... "And if they agree to follow through, I can have you fired by-"

The sound of metal screeching as Axel stood up from his seat silenced the HR representative. All three brothers shared a quick look before Otto and Oscar stood as well, tossing the files that had been placed before them back onto the table sloppily. Otto's eyes were glued to yours as Axel slightly shook his head at the woman at the end of the table.

"Byråkratisk skitsnack." He sneered before walking past you to leave the room. You had no idea what it meant, but from the offended gasping noise Cheryl made, you were sure she did. The other two men followed their brother shortly after, Oscar making teasing kissing faces at you as he exited through the door.

What just happened?

Both you and HR sat in a moment of stunned silence, obviously this meeting hadn't gone the way either of you expected. With the Swedes gone, you found the courage and sense of self determination to look at the woman again. You raised an eyebrow and looked behind you at the doorway, silently asking if this meant you could leave.

"One more slip up and I'll file for your termination, clear?" As much as you wanted to think of a snappy comeback to the woman who had just lost all the power she wrongly thought she had, your flight or fight response was still in full gear and you suddenly forgot all that was the English language. All you did was bite your bottom lip and nod before slowly rising from the chair and returning back to work.

Curious coworkers asked throughout the day if you were alright, the sense of dread still clawing at your heart at the utter humiliation that you had received... but there was no one to blame but yourself, you probably got what you deserved for making such comments in a professional environment. You briefly considered taking a vow of silence, never to speak again in penance for your sins.

The vow ended rather quickly after Dot offered you treats from her candy stash in an attempt to lighten your mood.

Everything will go back to normal, just don't think about them... ever again... You obsessively chanted to yourself while staring blankly at the copier and munching on your third candy bar. The mechanical machine whirred loudly as it spit out page after page of references that were needed for your current case. It was so loud, in fact, that you weren't aware that another person had entered the room until you felt a sharp pinch on your ass.

You suppressed the urge to scream as you jumped back, mind now alert as you whipped around to see the culprit.

Now standing a few feet away was one of the very same men with platinum blond hair that you were trying so actively to purge out of your mind. You had never admitted it to anyone else out loud, but secretly you did favor one brother more than the others... the slight mannerisms and the way that he held himself causing many obsessive dreams on lonely nights.

And here he was... alone... the closest he has ever been.

"Hi." You greeted dumbly, not even confident enough to say his name. Your eyes flickered from the ground back to his face before holding out your chocolate. "Kit-kat?"

His face remained neutral as he reached out and broke off a section from the bar, eyeing you up and down more properly than before.

"You know my name." He remarked before biting the chocolate wafer in half and slightly gestured his chin towards you. "Yours?"

You told him, a bit surprised that he didn't seem to know it after that disaster of a confrontation. Had he not read through the accusations? Or if you were such an unnoteworthy person to him, why was he here... talking to you?

He's going to kill you, you pervert.

"Do you eat?" Just as you were preparing to plea pathetically for your life, you were instead caught completely offguard. Confusion overtook you as your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand the question.

"Eat? You mean like... eat food?" You asked slowly, mind going completely blank as you watched him pop the rest of the wafer in his mouth and chew slowly. Even with something so small, your knees were going weak at the close proximity. You shook your head gently to refocus, dangerous thoughts like these were what got you into trouble in the first place. "Um, I guess? Yes?"

"Good. Six o'clock, pervers." He declared firmly with a stony expression before turning to walk away. Unintelligent noises of sputtering and half words left your mouth as you moved to walk with him, keeping a bit of a distance as you held your copies tightly against your chest.

"Six o'clock what?"

"You eat dinner, with me. Or I step on your neck, your choice." He said casually, eyes keeping straight ahead as he spoke... almost ignoring that you were even there.

"What? Where? Why?" Even though you were trying to whisper as you paced through the hall, your voice was rising in octaves as each question left your lips with little filter. He stopped his long stride abruptly, inadvertently causing you to flinch as he turned back to look at you. The slightest ghost of a smile toyed at his lips as he stared you down like a hunter with eyes on its game. You remained as still as humanly possible as he leaned down to speak in your ear.

"I will find you."

You watched him turn around once again and strut down the hallway like a man on a mission while you stood there, mouth gaping like a goldfish. He was coming for you, that much was certain... There was no where or time that you could possibly hide from the not-so-secret item of your affection.

Should you be horny or terrified?

Both. You decided. Both sounded good.

#the swedes #the swedes x reader #tua the swedes #ikea mafia #hbd jossambird #the umbrella academy x reader #axel x reader #otto x reader #oscar x reader

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yandere-sins · 5 years ago

Note

Not the same person, but I really LOVED your Hawks x Winged!reader shot! Can I ask for some kind of spin off, where Hawks is looking after a reader(maybe getting their hairs done, or preening their feathers) and being very possessive about it, cooing what a cute birdie his Darling is, while reader tries not to panic because they dislike ppl touching their wings as a part of trauma? I'm sucker for yanderes being super creepy while doing generally sweet things.

Ah yes, I think every now and then everyone needs a reminder that their yandere is only doing things for them. Because they love them, right? That’s a really good point there, tehe (･ωI got a little off-request here because inspiration sometimes wants a different way than the request is, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

If being bound to chains from the walls around you really was in your best interest, you had your doubts. In fact, you had your doubts about a lot of things. Like being kidnapped, held captive in a dark room, with deadbolts keeping the door shut, and presumably, underground. Yes, your wing-quirk was rare, but not to be underestimated, and if anyone knew this, then Hawks.

The only companion you had, was that damn cuckoo clock on the wall opposite from where he held you throughout the door. The sound of the - immensely funny how Hawks found - gift was something you’d never ever forget again in your whole life. How could you? It made sure you never dozed off more than an hour before tearing you out of your much prettier, much more peaceful dreams, and you despised it for it.

But at least, it let you know about dinnertime. The only time that Hawks more or less managed to keep up routinely. He was worse with feeding you breakfast, and lunch was almost entirely canceled with the job the hero had, but for dinner - he always said - he wanted to be home. Home with his favorite nightingale for bonding and cuddles afterwards, his idea of a relationship.

Yours... not so much.

Food was something you learned to appreciate. It helped you stay sane to have something warm between your teeth, gave you some strength to wring with your captor for the space you needed afterwards. But Hawks- no, Keigo’s views on how you two should hang out, not only differed from yours but also, any you knew ‘normal’ couples did. Then again, what was normal when your partner was a madman?

As much as you resented the cuckoo for its loud, annoying screams of time, you couldn’t help but feel relieved that you’d be let down from your wall prison, able to move your wrists without the metallic clanking against your ears again. Even with two large wings, you were glad to be put back onto your feet, the strain on your wings’ roots - where they were steadied against the wall with metal chains too, becoming harder the longer you had to endure it. You tried not thinking about the fight that would break out in the morning when he demanded to put you up into chains again, believing this was nothing you should be worried right now. Because when you heard the first turn of the lock on your door, you knew you were in for more trouble than the ones still one night away.

Keigo whistled a happy tune as he pushed open the door, his slippers scrubbing over the floor while he carried in a tray of various little bowls. It seemed like typical japanese food, but you were sure there was nothing more than fast food inside. “Hello, my Dove. How’s your day been? Have you been hanging out here?” Snickering about his own joke, you learned to ignore the stupid remarks.

You had been commendable lately, making sure to have good conversations with him and to humor his need to be close to you, aside from being a little unwilling to get back into chains every day. He at least didn’t seem mad about that, and you sometimes even thought to see the hints of pity in his eyes whenever he did what he thought he had to. So whatever you had built up with him in terms of a relationship, you didn’t want to mess it up with a useless comment when he was in quite such a good mood.

Turning the switch on the light, the room lit up, even though the heavy curtains usually didn’t allow much light inside, and you blinked a few times to adjust to it. From his pocket, Keigo made a big show to pull out the keys to your chains, and with the hints of a thankful smile, you helped adjust your limbs to make it easy for him to reach the locks. After so many negative sounds, the clicking of them, with the following release of your arms and wings, was a delight rarely experienced by the average human, and you breathed a breath of relief to be freed of your restrains.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ready to take careful steps towards the table in the corner of the room. However, suddenly he stepped into your field of vision, denying you an easy walk forward, instead, bringing you to a wonky halt. From his grin and open arms, you weren’t sure if he wanted something or if that was just to make you stop, but you decided against trying to pass him, watching his wings sway expectantly with more confusion on your side.

“Don’t you think I deserve a ‘welcome-home’-hug after my long day of work? I’ve been thinking about you all day long! Have you thought about me too?”

Truth be told, whatever had brought him to the conclusion that he deserved anything from you, must have been the same bug that had told him to kidnap you. But once your initial hesitation wore off, you tugged in your wings as tightly as you could to your back, before approaching him. The one-sided hug wasn’t quite what he must have envisioned when he asked for it, but the torture wasn’t long for you anyway.

You only briefly missed his eyes inspecting your wings which seemed to shift every time he moved his hands on your back, but you assured him of his question, which was enough for him to hear for now. “Yeah... Thought about you too.”

However, when you sat there for dinner, Hawks was different enough for you to notice. He was usually the one to always steal from your sparse array of chicken wings and fries, but he seemed absentminded on his chair for the duration of your meal, nibbling on some snagged bone, eyes always falling back over to your wings even when you moved them as far away from his view as possible.

“I think you chipped a feather with your struggling,” he eventually muttered as you wrapped up the bowls, thanking him for the meal. “It’s been bothering me since this morning, what if more are broken?”

You couldn’t help a worried glance over your shoulder, but of course, without spreading them and maybe a few mirrors to see the backside, you wouldn’t be able to determine if everything was okay. “Maybe you should let me take a look-” he offered, a fast hand reaching out for behind your back, but you flinched out of the way fast enough, catching his wrist just in time with a loud, “NO!”

Keigo didn’t spare you the sharp glare from below at your dismissal of his help, letting out a loud hum before retracting back to his seat. You didn’t miss a heartbeat to sit sideways on your chair, bringing your wings as far away as possible from him. “If there’s a broken feather, we need to mend it, Birdy, Darling.”

“I am sure they are fine, just a little... shuffled, yeah.”

“Mhm, I’d still like to see,” he insisted, standing up. He wasn’t a super tall figure in comparison to a lot of his colleagues, but he sure could look menacing when he hovered over you. The only good thing about it was the open space beneath his arm, that you slipped through quickly, giving yourself a mental pat for quick actions.

The only thing you didn’t consider was that Hawks always was quicker. Quicker in hunting people down, quicker in bringing them to the police, and quicker in catching you, knowing exactly what you were going for the moment your eyes fell on the open space. It had been a long time for someone to touch your wings. Even from Hawks, you had mostly kept them away, so you already had forgotten the feeling of a hand brushing into your feathers, gripping them tightly.

With a weak, panic-induced squeal, you stumbled to the side, pulling him with you as his hand held on just a bit tighter under your frantic movements. You could feel the feathers ripping from the root one after the other as he didn’t let go, your breathing picking up speed and lungs unable to handle the stress of the rapid air pouring in and out. Your hyperventilation did nothing to stop him, and with every sound of their fickle stems breaking you remembered more and more the circumstances of your upbringing.

It was just like when they had used you as a feather-maker before. The people you trusted most had regularly plucked them out to sell and make accessories for buyers, even when you bled and asked them not to. This was barely any different, especially not when Hawks clicked his tongue in annoyance the more you struggled.

Not long, and you found yourself in the stranglehold of his arm, bits of fluffy feathers falling from his hand as he finally pulled it away from your wings again, keeping you locked helplessly in his hold. “Calm down, it’s not like I want to hurt you.” There was nothing harder than to calm your racing heart and ragged breath, but you at least tried, especially when the air to breathe became thinner in his chokehold.

“Look, I found the bad boy,” he cooed, holding up his hand triumphantly to show you one long feather he had pulled out, slightly crooked at the end. Though you believed you started to see stars, clinging to his arm desperately, you nodded, quaking a ‘Thank you’ to him as best as you could.

Finally, he let you go, your body sinking to the ground, unable to hold up as every limb seemed to shiver uncontrollably. It took you a good minute to get some control over yourself again, the pain on your neck finally setting in too, and you shuddered just thinking about what just happened. But it wasn’t like Keigo ever gave you time to work through your experiences, especially not when you were so vulnerably open to him now.

You couldn’t possibly have seen his arms coming as they hooked under your shoulders, pulling you back up and over to the bed on which he sat down himself, letting your body glide to the floor. If anyone knew how to treat wings and tickle their instincts, it was Hawks, so it shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did as he drove his hand up your spine, triggering your feathers to ruffle unwillingly. Immediately, you wanted to jump away again, but with a reprimanding ‘Ah-Ah’ his legs wrung around your torso, keeping your locked in your place despite your wiggles.

It became only worse with the feelings of his hands brushing down your ruffled feather again, spreading them over his lap to get a really good look at them. “There are so many more broken ones. We have to take care of them, you understand that, right? It will only hurt so much to lose a few for the sake of keeping you healthy, I promise.”

“No... please...” you muttered as you heard his words, noticing his fingertips combing through every feather to inspect them one by one. “Don’t be a child now, I know what I’m doing. Just be a good birdie and let me handle this, [Name].”

There was no more resisting his words, Keigo being deadset on fixing your ruined feathers, one way or another. “Take a deep breath,” he advised, and you felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks as those words reminded you of the past. Hearing you following his instructions, Keigo did a trial tug, seeing just how much you’d flinch from it before strengthening his legs around your torso, knowing it would cause a lot of stirring if he really pulled it out.

“On the count of three, my Dove.”

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witchiswriting · 4 years ago

Text

A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 5

Summary: Negan and Lilith meet with an unexpected face from the past.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of panic attack.

Characters: Negan x Lilith (OC)

Author’s Note: Wow! We’re so close to the end. I feel bittersweet since it’s my Negan fic ever, saying goodbye to those characters are harder than I thought. Don’t worry though. There’s going to be a sequel, I just don’t know when it’s gonna be ready to posted.

It’s been a month and a half since Negan had started to live in this hell called The Sanctuary. He’d accepted the fact that he’s never going back to the life he once had. The only person he knew from his life before, his best friend or more like ex best friend was now his enemy. Rick Grimes, he was one of the residents of Sanctuary; he didn’t have a room like ordinary workers or saviours. No, he was staying in a cell and lost his hands in a brutal way. He had watched all his family getting slaughtered by Negan.

When Simon led Negan to the cells that day, he found out about the murders he’s caused, and they were a lot. When they came across Rick’s group Negan ordered them to give their half of shit to him. Threatened that otherwise he’d kill them. After particular events, a war took place between the groups Negan terrorised. They came together against Negan, but they still hadn’t the enough numbers to defeat Negan’s kingdom. So, Negan beat them down in a very brutal way.

Rick Grimes was the person who killed Lilith. In a crossfire he shot her in the chest. Although, Negan was the one to blame since he was the reason that Lilith had been here that day.

If he wouldn’t had been this stupid. Cheating on her in another world too.

In that very morning, Lilith walked in on him fucking Amber, at least that’s what Negan thinks her name is. He doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t know anything. He even made Simon tell him how Lilith died. So, that was it. Shocked and very much hurt Lilith left The Sanctuary, and she was too lost in her own mind to notice the trap the Alexandrians had set up.

First, she was captured by Rick. He had no intention to hurt her. She was just another victim to Negan after all but when the saviours came guns blazing Lilith got scared and tried to find a way to escape. She found it but when she threw herself, she felt the heavy bullet ripping through her chest. That’s how she died in arms of Negan.

When Negan stood in front of his ex-friend now enemy’s cell, he felt completely numb. Nothing came out of his mouth. The only voice echoing through the cold walls were Rick’s hatred, accusations, and threats. Negan waited with a stone-cold face. He was too busy to comprehend the situation. After 10 minutes he walked back to his room and refused to come out since then.

Negan sighed, taking a sip from his whiskey. He let a tear fall on his cheek. It’s been too long, and he was now sure that there’s no going back and there’s no Lilith. He’s the man with everything yet nothing.

For the first couple of weeks Negan always slept, thinking that might be the only way to go back to his old life but, of course, it didn’t work. Instead, he woke up to a bloody Lilith standing in front of him and accusing him of letting her die. His nightmares were another thing. There were too real that Negan couldn’t bear to live this agony repeatedly. So, he drowned himself and his sorrows in alcohol. Hoping to numb himself and he almost made it.

Until one night.

He was laying on his stomach in his bed and crying silently. Wishing he had at least one photograph of Lilith though he didn’t know if he could take looking at her beautiful face again. Trying to get some sleep, he closed his already tired eyes. He heard some noise in his bathroom but didn’t care. Probably he was too drunk, and his mind was making up things to torture him more.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes tightly. Wishing dive into deep slumbers of sleep in a few minutes however, the faith had other plans.

A light breeze brushed his beautiful face, slightly waking him up from his semi sleeping state.

There she was, standing in the same sun dress, watching him with an angry expression. Her dark curls were moving lightly in the wind.

He jolted up from the bed. He must have been dreaming or was too drunk again and seeing a hallucination.

Lucille, she was standing all in her glory.

‘’ You really don’t get the concept of second chances, do you Negan?’’ She asked with a sassy tone. It was apparent that she wasn’t pleased with him.

‘’W-what? I’m too drunk and seeing things. Fuck. Lucille.’’ Negan was rubbing his eyes.

‘’Wake up asshole, it’s not a hallucination. I’m here. Again. To fucking help.’’ She gritted her teeth.

‘’ But why?’’ Negan was confused. He knew he had no right to seek for help nor he deserved it.

‘’ I’m not doing this for you.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

‘’ Then for who? ‘’ It was getting more and more complex for Negan to figure out in his drunken state.

‘’ I mean you’ve always had a fucked-up mind, but you were also sharp. So, you tell me Negan.’’ She took a step toward him.

‘’ I’d say Lilith but, well… she’s gone.’’ Negan swallowed hardly. The gulp in his throat was getting bigger.

‘’ So, you say?’’ Lucille smirked knowingly.

‘’ IS SHE ALIVE? PLEASE TELL ME!’’ Negan got up from the bed and kneeled in front of Lucille.

‘’ Isn’t it funny that fears become wishes, Negan?’’ Lucille mocked his ex-husband. She’s not used to see him in such a pathetic state. She mumbled ‘good’ under her breath. ‘’ When you left Lilith, the last thing you wanted was to see her again. What has changed?’ She smirked but the sign of sympathy didn’t appear on her beautiful features, instead her face was full of ferocity.

Negan couldn’t keep his tears at bay anymore, at this point he’s crying like a pathetic dog. Yes, the woman he’d loved once was being extremely hard on him but his pain didn’t matter shit to him. All he wanted was Lilith to be alive, even if it’s without him.’ Please tell me she’s alive. Please, I beg you.’’ He started sobbing violently.

‘’ It depends. You’re probably going to treat her as badly as the last time.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner.

He started to hyperventilate. ‘’ I fucking promise I will never hurt her ever again. If she’s alive and ready to accept me, I’ll do my fucking best to make it up to her. Just please fucking tell me if she’s alive.’’

Lucille took a deep breath. Her eyes were shining mischievously. ‘’ Well then.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘’ Yes, she’s alive Negan but she’s not doing very well as you can guess.’’

‘’I-I-I’d do everything for her to be happy… and if she doesn’t want me then I’ll go my own way. I just want the best for her.’’ Tears were running down on his face violently. His eyes were blood shot and puffy, his nose was running down but he couldn’t care less. This a month and a half has been the worst he’s ever experienced. He thought nothing could beat the day Lucille died but he was wrong.

Negan struggled at controlling his shaking hands. The balloon growing inside him was pressing into his chest. His breath got caught in his throat and he couldn’t mutter a word, just a chocked sob came out. The last time he had a panic attack was when he found out Lucille has cancer.

Watching the miserable man before her, Lucille put her delicate hand on his shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘’ Stand up and go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up to your old life next morning. Who knows?’’ She purred.

He stood up like an obedient child, but he had one question in his mind. ‘’Lucille, why are you being this good to me?’’

Lucille laughed. ‘’Oh dear, I’m not being good to you, now go back to sleep. If you’re lucky maybe you’d see her in your dream tonight.’’ And with that she disappeared.

Lilith was dancing slowly in her room. That was her coping mechanism. Whenever a bad thing happens, she tries to get over it with dancing and most of the time it helps but this time she felt like there’s nothing that could soothe her pain.

It’s been two weeks and the pain had started to annoy her, since childhood she hadn’t been good with dealing her negative emotions and the last one was the biggest blow. Feeling sad and in pain drove her crazy. Now, she’s mad at his asshole ex-fiancé also herself. She didn’t know when she’d fallen that deep for the man who ruined her life in a single night. Before, she didn’t realize how much he meant to her and it hurt more knowing that he was probably the only one for her.

Five days ago, she went back to Negan’s place to gather her things, but nobody was at home and there was no sign of Negan had been there for a long time. His car and motorbike were in the garage, but his clothes were absent in his wardrobe. Who knows, maybe he’d already found a lover. Thinking of that possibility hurt Lilith in the ways she could’ve never guessed before.

Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared herself at mirror. The song was over, and she was a little bit tired. She watched herself for a few minutes. Her bright blue eyes were slightly red and swollen just like her plump lips. Her nose was running down, and the tip was a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, she heard a melody playing. She didn’t recognize it immediately, but she knew she heard it before, just couldn’t quite place when she listened to the song.

She must be forgetting things after all the crying; her head wasn’t in the right place. She unplugged the player and threw herself on bed.

When she felt a soft fingertip on her bare shoulder it’s been almost 10 minutes letting herself into the arms of slumber. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Lilith slightly opened them.

She couldn’t help the gape that formed on her mouth when she saw the woman who she’d only knew from photographs standing before her.

It was an interesting night to begin with.

@buttercandy16 @negans-network

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan angst #negan smut #negan fluff #lucille twd #lucille #negan x lilith #story: a not so merry christmas #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #jdm #negan twd

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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

Photo

richboy!seonghwa (part 10)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff

(part 9) (series masterlist)

you stumble around the dark room as little nervous squeals leave your mouth. because this is the start of every horror and the more you stumble around, the more you start to freak out.

you don't even know where you're trying to go because there's no light coming out from the under the door, meaning there very well could be a murderer trailing the hallways, waiting for a damsel in distress like yours truly to venture out and fall victim to their crazy ways.

a loud scream leaves your mouth when you smack into something hard amidst your panicked thoughts, hearing it smack against the wall. a string of curses leave your mouth when you hear the crack of the lightbulb.

"why the hell is this happening," you whisper into the darkness, confused by the sudden blackout like it's at fault for you stupidly decide to stumble around; you had jumped from the initial shock of the lights turning off, your phone landing on the floor somewhere really leaving you in a pickle. a dark, scary, potentially fatal pickle.

the sound of a knock at your door causes your heart to drop, the noise fairly close indicating you've made it pretty far across the room. but the irrational thoughts pumping through you has almost fully convinced you that there's someone wielding a butcher knife just outside the door.

so you keep your mouth shut, tiptoeing closer to the best of your ability and your heart jumping when there's another knock.

"y/n?" a low, muffled voice speaks.

you put your hands out in front of you, stretching them forward until they hit the door. you put your ear against the it, listening carefully but there's only silence. so you knock back once.

"what are you doing?" the voice says and you know that irritable tone anywhere.

you rip open the door and a bright light flashes in your face, yeosang standing, holding his phone up with his eyebrow raised.

"did you think i was a murderer?"

"i probably would've preferred it," you bite back, attempting to slam the door in his face. but he brings his foot forward, shoving it halfway in your room to prevent it from shutting.

"don't be dramatic."

you whip open the door and he'd laugh at the pissed off scowl on your face if he knows he didn't fuck up today, if his building anxiety wasn't coming close to strangling him.

"dramatic?!" you squeak, stepping out of your room to push his chest harshly. he's surprised by your strength, stumbling back a few feet and then you're right in his face.

"you embarrassed me before and acted like a total fucking asshole!" you yell, not hearing the sound of your door shutting and instead intent on giving out to him.

“i don't know what your issue is with me in the first place! you were talking to me just fine an hour before and even gave me that really good blueberry muffin that i know was your favorite so how about you-"

"do you have your key card?"

your eyes narrow at his question.

"were you even listening to me?! you embarrassed me and i deserve an apology!"

"when would i have gotten the chance?"

"well you had the time to cut me off," you snap.

you hear him sigh as you put your hands on your hips, waiting expectantly for him to speak. but he doesn't, the both of you just standing in the dark hallway with only his phone as an eerie light. you can feel the hot anger in your eyes as he just so calmly stands there, looking at you like you're the one who intruded on him.

"you know what, fuck you, yeosang," you snap, "why'd you even knock my door."

you whip around, walking forward and fumbling around to find the doorknob. when your hand touches the cold metal, you sigh in relief and turn to open it. but your relief quickly turns to agitation and frustration because your fucking key is inside your locked room.

"no, no, no, no, no," you mumble under your breath, "no!" you smack the hard door, wincing as you shake out the pain in your hand. you hear yeosang hum behind you and you whip around, squinting your eyes at him and walking back up to him.

"this is your fault," you spit out, "why do you ruin everything. now i'm locked out and gonna get myself killed out here."

"yeah, because a power outage from the snowstorm is actually a murderer."

you really don't consider yourself a violent person, actually rather timid and shy in most circumstances. but his tone is so dry and biting you wanna hit him. just once.

"i wanna smack you," you say through clenched teeth.

"smack me all you want in my room."

"are you out of your mind," you spit, "i don't even wanna look at you, let alone be in the same room as you after what you did to me today."

"so you're just gonna stay out here in the dark?"

"yes," you snap, "so fuck off."

his eyes narrow before he grabs you roughly by the arm, dragging you towards his door and pushing it open. he still has you in his tight grasp when he slams his door closed, pulling you in further in towards the couch.

"what are you doing!" you yell, ripping your arm from is grasp, "get off of me, i don't wanna-"

"shut up and let me speak for a second!"

his loud, harsh voice echoes off the walls and it should probably scare you. but you're just so over him, matching or maybe even surpassing his level of anger.

"you've got problems," you spit back, the anger coursing through your veins giving you the confidence and courage to stick up for yourself, "you have some serious fucking anger problems you've gotta work out and i don't want any part of it!"

you shove passed him, shoulder bumping into him roughly and you know it probably hurts you more than him. but you can't even feel it, not with the adrenaline coursing through you and the hot tension radiating off you.

"i'm sorry," he says and the breathy way he says it causes your feet to halt in their movement. because he sounds genuine but also...almost panicked.

you don't turn around but hear him move closer until he's standing right behind you. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that to you."

"no shit," you say, voice biting and cold despite feeling the need to listen carefully to his voice.

"can you please just...stay here," he sighs out when he sees you moving toward the door again, "until the lights come on, at least."

"why, are you scared of the dark?" you ask mockingly.

"yeah, actually," he says quietly, "but that's not why."

you turn around, peering over at him and roaming over his poorly lit face; even in the dark, he can feel you doing it, searching his face for the answers he constantly has to conceal.

"stop staring," he scolds and you let out a sigh.

"how'd you even know," you mumble, slowly maneuvering around the room until you feel a soft surface you conclude is the bed. you plop down, sitting with your legs in a pretzel position and staring off into the darkness.

"yeah, make yourself comfortable," he mumbles and something closely resembling a growl leaves your mouth causing a weak snort to leave him.

you watch as he fumbles around the room until you hear the clicking of a lighter, two small candles placed on the dresser now burning in front of the tv.

"where the hell did you get those," you wonder aloud because that's awfully convenient.

"they were in the room."

he turns around after lighting them, the soft glow illuminating his face and you wanna scowl at how handsome he is.

but it's upon further inspection you see there's also a lot of tension held in it.

he bites his lip, eyes flicking from the couch to the spot on the bed next to you before making the (correct) decision in sitting on the couch. you both just stare at each other blankly, your eyes expectant and on guard while his are just...blank.

the adrenaline and anger you felt from moments ago slowly starts to dissipate as it starts to sink in that you and him are currently trapped (but not really) in the same room. you shouldn't have given in so easily, shouldn't have let him manhandle you the way he did and fought back more when he screamed at you again; but now here you are, sitting on his bed and feeling yourself revert back to your stupid submissive self.

"are you really scared of the dark," you ask him and even from a few feet away, you hear a shaky exhale leave his mouth; he had forgotten he let that slip.

"yeah," he mumbles and you pout at the softness in his voice. you look up and see him hunched over with his elbows on his shaking legs, looking at a spot on the floor and you purse your lips to the side.

something tells you him being surrounded by the darkness is the reason for his anxious fidgeting.

"well, i'm scared of hamsters," you blurt out. and while you're luckily not surrounded by the creepy little rodents, maybe him knowing your fears will calm him in some strange way.

his eyes raise to yours and a crooked smile makes its way on his lips as a chuckle bubbles out of him.

"it's not funny!" you squeal but it only makes his laugh heartier, deep and genuine as it bounces off the warmly lite room.

"it's kind of funny," he muses and you resist the urge to smile at the softness in his tone. "what happened? were you bit or something?"

"not only once but twice," you tell him as you relive your childhood trauma. "my cousins had these two hamsters who i just always wanted to play with because i never had animals growing up. but they hated me, like i mean hated me, would definitely publically berate me and cause me to break a plant if they were human, and when i tried to pick them up once...they both nearly tore the skin off my finger with their sharp little teeth."

you look up and see his eyes on you, his leg slightly bouncing up and down. "what?" you squeak out. you has been trying to lighten the mood with your little snide comment.

"i shouldn't have done that to you," he says quietly, "i...don't hate you so i don't...i know i shouldn't do it."

you hear the immediate sorrow and pain in his voice, like he's truly questioning himself and something about it makes a light bulb go off in your brain, gives you the slightest feeling that maybe he's...damaged in someway.

it doesn't excuse his treatment towards you but you think there also has to be something in his past that made him this way.

because you see he could be good sometimes, still a wise ass and a bit of bitch but good. you see that his friends loves them, his classmates and teacher hold him in high regard and the way he helped you that night without a second thought.

but then he switches on and off without warning, like an abused animal who's wagging their tail one minute and then snapping at your face the next.

"then why did you?" you ask softly, cursing the soft, empathic heart your parents always say is one of your greatest assesses but also downfalls.

his head falls into his hands, running through his hair and you only watch silently as he struggles internally. because he still doesn't know, doesn't know why he continually, deliberately hurts you and yells at you, like your kindness and nativity infuriates him but then make him instantly feel regret and cause self hatred to bubble up inside of him.

unless that's why he does it. because he sees you're kind, knows you'll forgive him and it's just ingrained in him now to take advantage of peoples kindness. to also try and strip that away from them.

"i wish i could tell you, y/n," he tells you, voice strained and breathy, "i...i don't have any answer that doesn't make me sound like a complete asshole.

"well, we already knew that," you say sarcastically, not being able to hide the smirk on your face. he picks his head up to roll his eyes at you and a tiny smile makes its way on his face.

"don't make me regret accepting your apology," you then tell him, voice quiet but firm.

his eyes meet yours and you watch as his adams apples bobs nervously. "i'm warning you now, i will," he says before mumbling something to himself.

"what?"

"you're too nice to people who don't deserve it," he tells you, voice hard and firm but not menacing.

"and what, you don't deserve kindness?" you ask, your chest hurting because it's even more obvious now your assumption that he's been hurt is correct.

"obviously not," he hums and you purse your lips to the side in thought. just as you open your mouth to ask him why, a humorless chuckle leaves his mouth.

"my dad used to lock me in a closet."

your heart drops at the statement, eyes widening and breath catching in your throat because what the fuck. you were not at all expecting that.

"sometimes for days at a time," he tells you and his voice is so straight forward and detached, like he's telling you the weather conditions outside. "he started it off with beatings of course but physical trauma is easy to get used to. it's the mental trauma that fucks you and he knew that."

"yeosang, i-"

"if i was ever too...soft, that's the word he always used," he laughs out humorlessly, "if i ever cried, if i was ever smiling too much," he drones on and now his voice is getting more and more agitated and tight that tears start to build behind your eyes. "i cried all the fucking time and it would make him so mad."

"but there's nothing wrong-"

"i think he kept me in there for three days at one point but they usually blended together after i lost count." he tells you and you blink rapidly so you don't start crying; who does that to their own son?

"why are you telling me this?" you ask him quietly. because you feel like you're taking advantage of him, like he's in some state of ptsd and you have no right to be hearing this.

"so you understand why i'm so fucked up," he says and he finally looks you in the eye and you could burst into tears. because there's nothing, they're completely empty and it makes your heart ache. "so you understand you don't wanna be around someone like me, why you shouldn't be easily forgiving me."

"but you didn't do that," you tell him softly and your legs are itching to get up and walk over to him. "you didn't do anything wrong."

"i obviously did," he spits, "i was weak. and it eventually drove him away."

you wanna say thank god, wanna clap and jump for joy and throw a party in this very melancholy room that, that man is no longer in his life.

"you were weak for smiling and crying?" you ask softly, not being able to hold back the skepticism in your voice, "those are very normal things yeosang, things that-"

"and apparently i'm still weak," he says, ignoring your words and looking back at the floor, "because the second it happened, the second the pitch darkness came, i immediately needed to find-"

the lights suddenly flicker on and the words die in his throat, his neck snapping up at the ceiling before his eyes quickly start to roam around the room. his gaze moves to your face, scanning your sympathetic eyes and warm cheeks and it's like he's snapped out of trance with the lights now on. his stomach twists and a pounding forms in his temples when he realizes what he's just done, his stupid fear-stricken confessions.

you can see the exact moment that regret springs to his eyes, the revelation that he's no longer a little boy trapped in the dark but instead a bitter and jaded person in the face of someone he's been nothing but obnoxious too.

you knew he hadn't been meaning to spill all of that and now you're panicking because you don't know what to say and being able to see his figure clearly is making the silence deafening.

"one of the hamsters was named after me," you blurt out and he looks at you like you have five heads.

because after all of that, after he blurts out one of his many instances of real childhood trauma in an embarrassing and rare state of vulnerability, that's what you're saying?

"isn't that sick," you laugh out, "my cousin claimed it was in my honor but now that i think about it, it's actually fairly insulting."

you watch his chest heave in and out, looking at you like he doesn't know what to make of you now. doesn't know if you're gonna suddenly pounce on him and badger him for more information or use it against him as blackmail or publically announce it in the form of payback.

"what?" you ask but he just shakes his head, standing up on his slightly wobbly knees.

"you're...the most bizarre person i've ever met," he says, cautiously walking over to the bed and sitting down next to you. "that's....really what you're saying to me after i just-"

"told me something you obviously didn't want to?" you say quietly, looking up at him with wide, honest eyes and his eyes bore into yours with such an intensity it starts to make you nervous.

not like that's a hard thing to do, but more nervous than usual.

because had you misread everything wrong? did he actually just finally open up about his trauma and scars and distress just for you to talk about an evil hamster named in your honor?

"i'm...i'll be here to listen if that's what you want," you tell him honestly, "but i..you just didn't seem-"

his arms wrapping around you is the first thing to catch you off guard, strong and toned as he turns your body slightly to press you into him. you take a few strangled breaths, finally starting to register that he's hugging you right now when you then feel his head in the crook of your neck. his strangled breaths are hot on your skin, hair tickling your neck as his arms squeeze around you a little tighter.

you've been focusing so much on your breathing and your surprise and his warm skin on yours that you realize your arms are still dropped to the side. you cautiously bring them up and wrap them around him hesitantly, rubbing his back awkwardly causing him to chuckle into your skin.

"thank you," he mumbles, "i just...thank you." he pulls back just as suddenly as he crashed into you and scoots a few inches away from you. your flushed face meets his gaze, your body turned to look directly at him.

"we..don't have to discuss this ever again if you don't want too," you tell him, "but it..probably wouldn't hurt to talk to someone about that. like professionally-"

your words start to trail off when you see the rage cross his face, his body stiffening and you cringe outwardly. "please don't get mad," you beg, "i'm just...i can't hear you tell me something like that and not say it."

he shuts his eyes as he takes a shaky inhale, breathing out harshly and repeating a few times before his eyes pop open.

"okay."

it's not a lot and you don't know what part he's responding to but you're glad he wasn't mad; he didn't give in to his obvious anger and you reward him with a small smile. his eyes drop to your lips, his tongue peaking out to lick at his own and the tension between you starts to fizzle into something... completely different. something that's making you flushed and making your body hum in anticipation.

you hear the faint knocking on a door in the hallway but you're too entranced by his gaze to pay attention to it. his eyes are roaming every part of your face, your fingertips are nearly brushing and you don't think you were this close a moment ago.

"y/n..."

a harsh knock on yeosang's door has you two jumping apart, the heat on your cheeks nearly burning you as you swallow the nervous lump in your throat and watch him shake his head. he quickly gets up and away from you, popping his neck to the side anxiously as he walks to the door.

"have you heard anything in-"

seonghwa's voice and figure barreling through the room now has you jumping up from the bed quickly, nervousness unexpectedly flooding through you, like you were caught doing something bad; you think your intestines are twisting together with how quickly the knot formed in your stomach.

"y/n?" he says, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you in disbelief. his eyes go from your face, to the bed, to yeosang, then back to you. "what are you doing here?"

you look in shock to yeosang standing a few feet behind seonghwa, your heart pounding because you don't know why you're feeling so guilty; you didn't do anything wrong.

"i...locked myself out my room."

his eyes squint ever so slightly, jaw clenching as his tongue licks the corner of his lip.

"i was texting you, i was...worried," he said, "i knocked on your door before but thought maybe you were sleeping."

you smile softly at him, taking a step closer to him and your heart lurches ever so slightly when he steps back. the hurt must be evident on your face because he lets out a harsh exhale.

"i'm sorry, i'm just...surprised seeing you in his room." and then his neck snaps back to his friend, "especially after the shit he pulled before."

"me and her already talked about it so maybe you should mind your business."

seonghwa head turns to the side challengingly and you quickly grab the back of his arm when you see him advancing toward him.

"it's okay, he apologized," you tell him softly, "i'm-i'm sorry you were worried."

he looks down at you, hesitance and a wary look in his eyes that has you holding back a frown on your face. you don't like the vibe in here and especially don't like when his gaze turns back to yeosang.

but the shorter boy is fearless and feisty and maybe a little pissed off he was interrupted.

"what's your problem, hwa? gonna try to beat my ass again?"

your hold on the boy's arm tightens when he tries to advance forward yeosang again.

"i think i probably should since you're a fucking liar."

"when did i lie?" yeosang spits, moving closer to seonghwa, "please enlighten me." you step around seonghwa to place yourself in the middle of them.

"stop," you say softly, moving your hand to his chest and reaching your arm out to stop yeosang in his path.

"you know when." seonghwa growls.

"no, i really don't think i do," yeosang says challenging, moving past your hand and attempting to step around you. seonghwa's eyes narrow and you know they're about to start something so you quickly drag the taller boy by the shirt over to the door.

"stop," seonghwa orders but you only continue to drag him.

"y/n," he growls but you only tighten your hold on him.

"i need to get an extra key card, come with me," you say, peaking your head back to throw yeosang a sympathetic gaze. you mouth the word 'bye' before shutting his door quietly.

"why were you with him," seonghwa spats as you two walk down the hallway, "why did you forgive him so easily."

your feet stop to look up at him, hurt swirling in your eyes at his tone; it appears when one of them is nice to you, the other just has to be mean.

"because i know he was sorry," you say softly, "why are you angry?"

you watch his jaw tick and lift your hand to rub your thumb over the twitching muscle, like you'll be able to wipe it off; but he rips his face away and you can't stop the hurt that swirls through you. you step back as your body retracts, your brows furrowing and mouth forming into a frown.

"now you're gonna be mean to me?" you ask and he lets out a shaky exhale at your quiet voice.

"i was worried when you weren't answering, i was waiting outside your door while you were in there with him," he says quietly and you lift your eyebrow because you don't understand why he sounds so...angry? upset? hurt? by it.

"he was apologizing to me," you squeak out, "why do you sound so upset? you're making a big deal out of nothing."

he rolls his eyes and you see him almost turn to walk away when he stops in his tracks. he looks over your face and lets out a sigh because your eyes are confused and innocent and you don't deserve to be blamed for his stupid feelings.

"you're right," he says, "i'm sorry."

"can we just get my key now?" you ask after a few moments of holding each other's gazes, "i'm sleepy."

he smiles softly at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear gently. "sure."

you two clumsily bump into one another with soft giggles and big yawns as you walk down the elevator, your head resting on his arm tiredly as you make your way down and stand in front of the front desk.

the staff are flustered after the mini power outage, explaining to the complaining guests on the phone that everything is okay now, so it takes them about 10 minutes to finally get to you and another 10 to get you a copy of your key.

"i'm sorry, i didn't know it'd take that long," you tell seonghwa as you wait for the elevator back up, "you seem tired."

"i'm fine, y/n," he says, patting the top of your head, "but try not to lock yourself again, okay?"

you roll your eyes at him, pushing him lightly and scurrying in the elevator quickly before pushing the close-door button. his mouth drops open in fake outrage at you trying to leave him down there alone, sticking his hand in and staring down at you with a stern look.

"not nice," he scolds and your cheeky smile quickly has his own breaking out on his face, a groan leaving his mouth as he turns away from you.

"what?" you whine.

"you're pretty," he mumbles, taking your face in his hands and squeezing it gently causing you to scrunch your nose.

"you can't just say stuff like that, seonghwa, " you breathe out, "i'm gonna have permanent heart palpitations."

"but you are," he says and the words are so soft spoken you know you really will have some sort of heart damage.

a small chuckle leaves his mouth at the pained look at your face. “and that makes two of us," he adds quietly, his thumb rubbing over your face gently until the elevator dings.

you breathe out shakily, shaking your head at him with a soft smile and teasing eyes as he removes his hold on your face. you walk out together and stop in the middle of the hallway where you both have to part ways.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, head turned to the side as you look up at him.

"tomorrow," he confirms, "need a walk down?"

you squint your eyes at him defensively, "i know i'm a damsel in distress but i think i can manage it."

another chuckle leaves his mouth, his hand running through your hair one last time before he nods his head. "night, little one."

"night, seonghwa," you say, waiting until he turns around for your face to crumble in a state of panic. because that fucking term will be the death of you.

or maybe it'll be your erratic heartbeat that kills you, overwhelmed by how much your life has been taken over by attractive boys and the little things they do for you.

because you nearly step on the clear to-go box of chocolate chip pancakes placed in front of your door, peering down to read the receipt still taped on the box.

order to room 390: kang yeosang.

(part 11)

#seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #moodboard #seonghwa moodboard

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yelena-bellova · 4 years ago

Text

Please Let Me Love You: Steve Rogers x Reader

Plot: Reader and Steve have loved each other for years, but the Reader’s insecurities and grief could kill their chances of it ever happening.

Prompt: “Please let me love you” “No, I’ll only end up breaking your heart” ”What if I’m okay with that?”

Warnings: Language, grief, steamy situations (no smut)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written for Steve so I might be a little rusty. I’m also shit at writing steam so my apologies LOL This was done for @hopingforbarnes writing challenge, go check out the other works that were part of it! (Also, sorry for no ‘read more’ for some reason my phone won’t let me add it 🙄 Enjoy!

*gif is not mine but if it’s yours let me know so I can credit you*

———————

It was one of those nights.

I sat in the living room of the compound, wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch. The cable box’s clock said it was 3AM, sleep definitely wasn’t my friend tonight. I’d tossed and turned for an hour before my body finally gave in, only to be woken up a few hours later by a nightmare. I was back in Wakanda watching Thor slide his axe into Thanos’ deep chest, hearing the titan’s cries of pain. I watched as he snapped his fingers and disappeared into whatever portal he’d suddenly created. But the worst part was watching my teammates disappear again. I saw Bucky drop to his knees and dissolve, I grabbed Wanda’s ashes in my hands, I cried Sam’s name as I searched the forest for him. Then I woke up, clutching the sheets in my hand and letting my tears fall.

I sipped at my glass of whiskey, Tony had curated an amazing selection of alcohol and he’d left it at the compound when he’d retired. Times like these were when I wished he was still here. If I was being honest, I was fairly jealous of him. He’d walked away. Wiped his hands of all responsibility, married Pepper and built a new life for himself. It sounded nice, but I knew that my opportunity to have it had long passed.

“Trouble sleeping?”

I turned my head quickly to see Steve walking out of the elevator towards me.

“No,” I replied dryly, “I just really enjoy the enthralling nightlife.”

He smirked and made his way over, sitting in a chair a few feet away from me. Steve was no stranger to nightmares and he’d been trying to help me deal with mine for years. He’d come into my room when he heard me screaming and would stay with me until I calmed down. He’d whisper reassurances that I was safe and that he was there for me. And the terrible part was, I loved it. Even worse, I needed him.

“I didn’t hear you scream or else I would have come in.” Steve said quietly, watching me stare at the contents of my glass.

“Tonight was an anomaly, I simply woke up crying,” I said, not daring to look him in the eyes. It was too dangerous...

“You still could have woken me up, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to be a big girl and deal with my own issues at some point.” I responded before emptying the last bit of whiskey into my mouth, savoring the burn.

Steve leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, “It’s not a weakness to need help, y/n.”  I chuckled humorlessly, “Steve, I can’t run to you every time I have a nightmare forever.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied softly, “You could wake me up every night and I would still come running to help you, to hold you, whatever you needed.”

I finally met his gaze, his stare so intense I felt like he could see right through me. And I hated that. I hated the feeling of vulnerability and someone being able to tear down the walls I worked so hard to put up. Steve was the only person who had knocked down practically every single one without me even realizing.

“It’s not your job to save me, Captain. I think I’m a little beyond saving. Maybe you should spend your time helping people who can be helped.”

Steve didn’t budge at my sharp rejection, he simply drew a deep breath and said, “You can keep trying to push me away but it’s not going to work. I’m not going to abandon you to deal with this on your own.”

Tears flooded my eyes at his words, knowing the meaning behind them. We’d never actually talked about it but we both knew there was something there. The whole team, when there had been a whole team, knew it too. We were teased mercilessly about it. It didn’t seem to be a secret that Steve and I basically belonged to each other, but never officially. But things had changed in the past few years. It wasn’t as simple as it would’ve been pre-Accords and certainly not Pre-Snap. The only thing that had stayed the same throughout all the shit we’d been through was Steve’s devotion to me.

Steve left his seat and kneeled down at my legs, resting his hand gently on my knee,

“Y/n...” his tone was desperate, “Please let me love you.”

I let the whiskey glass fall in my lap and turned my face away from Steve. My dam was breaking and I feared one more word that I didn’t deserve would cause it to crack and flood the entire room.

“No, I’ll only end up breaking your heart.” I whispered, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak at a higher volume.

Steve’s thumb traced the curve of my knee, “What if I’m okay with that?”

There it was.

The dam broke.

“No!” I exclaimed as I threw the blanket off my torso and stood to my feet. The whiskey glass rolled across the floor and I walked in the opposite direction. I turned to Steve with tears streaming down my cheeks, “Steve, I can’t do this! I’m not the girl for you, no matter how much I want to be. I’m so fucked up from the past few years I don’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I’m so far from who I was when we met and it breaks my heart. I’m so fucking damaged that there is no way in hell I could love you way you deserve to be loved. You deserve so much better than someone who wakes up every night screaming and can’t get out of bed most days or someone who gets drunk to try and make themselves forget.”  My vision was clouded from the tears but I could see the broken expression on Steve’s face. I’d only seen that look once, when he sat in the Wakandan soil holding his best friend’s ashes. The fact that I was the one causing him that pain made me feel like a piece of shit. Yet for some reason, I continued…  “We had our chance and we didn’t take it, we can’t go back and change the past, Steve.” I said with a quiet sniffle, I was breaking my own heart along with Steve’s.

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it a second later and began to leave the room. I watched him walk to the elevator, his posture resembling a man who’d just lost in battle. Before the doors closed, he turned to me,

“I don’t care if you’re not the same person you used to be, I’m always going to love you. Every single version of you.”

Then the doors closed and he was gone.

It didn’t take long for me to sink to the floor and start sobbing. Here I was trying to protect us both and yet I felt like I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. This wasn’t some random guy I’d met at a coffee shop, this was Steve. Steve. I’d never wanted to be with someone like I’d wanted to be with him. Memories began to flood my mind of the moments that caused me to fall in love with him, each one more painful than the last. But the worst one had happened three years ago, only a few days before Bruce had called telling us Vision was in danger.

——

“Why the hell did you do that, Rogers?” I exclaimed, my voice echoing in the nearly empty safe house we were currently staying in. Sam and I had dragged Steve out of the battle we’d just been in, Natasha covering us. We’d carried all 200 pounds of muscle back to the house and he was currently laid out in front of me on a cot. Sam and Nat were doing routine perimeter checks while I was in charge of taking care of Steve’s wound.

“What was I supposed to do?” Steve asked through gritted teeth as I began removing his armor, “Let you get shot?”

“Yes! I didn’t ask you to jump in front of me!” I replied, throwing the top layer to the side and beginning to cautiously peel away the tee shirt underneath. Steve hissed as fresh air hit the bullet wound, once his abdomen was exposed I grabbed the nearby first ad kit.

Steve didn’t reply to my last comment, he simply let me work. Though he may have been a super soldier, he still very much felt pain. As I sterilized the wound and located the bullet, he let out a groan and I mumbled an apology. Thankfully, the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs so he wouldn’t need surgery. Thank God, because I wasn’t ready to perform a medical procedure in a glorified cabin in the middle of Romania’s forests.

I removed the bullet easily, only getting a moan from Steve, I could tell his accelerated healing was already kicking in. I still needed to stitch him up and to do that, I needed to be at a different angle.

“Sorry to make this awkward but, uh…” I said while looking from Steve’s face to his lap.

“No, it’s fine.” he responded passively, I had a feeling he was too exhausted to care.

I nodded and stood up, then carefully lowered myself into his lap. This was beyond awkward, for me at least. I’d never told Steve how I felt about him and here I was sitting on his crotch while he was shirtless. There were thoughts running through my head that were making me blush and I just prayed he didn’t notice it. Regaining my focus I took the bloodied gauze pad off his wound and grabbed the needle and thread in the kit.

“This part usually sucks, hold onto me if you need to, kay?” I said softly, he nodded in response. If the bullet removal hadn’t caused him to scream, he’d be fine with a few stitches.

As soon as the needle pierced his skin, his hand flew to my waist. It took every ounce of concentration I had to keep my mind on the task at hand rather than how I could feel the warmth of his palm through my suit. I pulled the first stitch through and he moaned slightly, squeezing my hip softly. I inhaled sharply and froze for half a second at the sensation, he was making it harder and harder to focus. As I willed myself to continue, I got through the next one without any movement from Steve. Once I was placing the third out of four, he hissed slightly and his other hand found it’s way to my other hip gripping it tightly. I gasped softly, but Steve didn’t seem to notice it, his eyes were closed. I was embarrassed at how much his simple touch affected me and didn’t need him knowing.

“Last one,” I whispered shakily, he looked through his eyelashes to meet my gaze and nodded.

I placed the last one quickly, Steve’s palms burned through the fabric of my suit as he squeezed my waist one final time. As soon as I was done I dropped the needle back in the kit and let my hands drop, my breathing had picked up without me even realizing it. I quickly remembered I needed to bandage the wound, which would require us to strike an even more intimate position.

Without meeting his eyes, I said, “I need to wrap the wound so you’re going to need to s-sit up.”

Steve was catching his breath, from what I didn’t know, and nodded silently. I knew he’d need help so as he removed his hands from my waist to brace himself on the cot, I placed my hands on his shoulders to bring him up. He groaned as he sat up, not only the wound hurting but his muscles undoubtably sore as well. I quickly grabbed the large gauze pad and folded it, holding it to the freshly stitched wound. I reached also for the tape that would wrap around his torso and hold the gauze in place. Pressing it gently, I began to wrap the tape around Steve, reaching behind him with one hand and keeping the other pressed to his abdomen. His muscles tensed under my touch before relaxing after, his hands snaking up to my sides, higher than they’d previously been. We were practically face to face so I tried to keep my composure but damn, he was making it hard. I continued wrapping until satisfied with my work, I placed a clip to hold it in place and dropped the remainders in the kit.

Neither of us said anything, we simply sat there with Steve holding me firmly in place and our eyes finally meeting. The danger had passed, we were safe, and I now had time to process what had placed us in this situation.

“Why’d you take that bullet for me?” I asked hesitantly, my voice no higher than a whisper.

His hands found their way back to my hips, his gaze somehow both gentle and intense. Goosebumps flooded my skin between the two sensations of touch and sight.

“I wasn’t about to let you die,” Steve said, his chest rumbling from the deep tone of his voice. I could feel his thumb tracing my hip bone and it sent a chill up my spine, this time I knew he noticed. His lips quirked ever so slightly, he could tell he was having an effect on me. My hands went to his shoulders and gripped them tightly as if to anchor myself to him. Steve moved so his arms were enveloping my waist and puling me closer to him.

My breath caught in my throat at the movement, my lips parted as I held Steve’s stare.

“I-I’m not even sure how to thank you.” I replied softly, shifting slightly in his lap causing him to let out a small whimper. Now it was my turn for ny lips to curl a little, realizing that I had just as much of an effect on him.

Steve shook his head gently, our foreheads nearly touching, “No thanks necessary, sweetheart.”  We were both a little touch starved and we both knew there’d been tension between us for years. That was a recipe for either disaster or something delicious, and I wanted nothing more than to find out which one it was. I let my fingers gently run down Steve’s biceps before resting there, causing him to bite his lip and hold me tighter. He pressed our foreheads together, our noses touching and our lips a mere inch or two away from meeting. As much as I wanted to make the next move, I could have stayed in the moment for much longer, simply savoring the electricity. One of Steve’s hands dragged up to my back and splayed out across it as if he was trying to press me as close to him as he could. But to get any closer, we’d have to cross a line.

As our breaths mingled, I knew that it was the moment I’d been waiting for for years. I was going to tell Steve that I loved him. The man had taken a fucking bullet for me, plus with our current position I was pretty confident in my chances of him returning the sentiment.

I pulled away to look at him, his pupils blown and his expression soft, “Steve, I-“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Natasha and Sam were back.

The moment was gone.

—

I wiped my eyes as I sat on the floor, leaned up against the couch. The tears were finally beginning to slow, but that didn’t mean the sadness had. Steve and I hadn’t spoken of that day and we hadn’t had another one resembling it. My skin tingled at the memories of Steve’s touch, how close we had come to getting everything we wanted. I’d wished so many times to go back to that moment and have Natasha and Sam stay out a few minutes more. All I needed was thirty seconds. All I needed was a chance.

A chance Steve had just given me.

I ran my hands through my hair, how fucking stupid was I? He was standing in front of me saying that he’d take me however I am. He wanted to love me, broken as I was, he still loved me in my damaged state. We’d done this dance for years, we’d come so close before and here I was ready to throw everything away brcause I was stuck in my own grief. I had a shot at happiness, at love, at feeling alive again. I had a shot with the man I’d been in love with for a decade.

And I wasn’t going to miss it.

I sprang to my feet and crossed the room to the elevator, a purpose in each of my steps. I pressed the button to the living quarters and shot up the short distance before the doors opened. Remembering Natasha was only a few rooms down from me and Steve, I realized I couldn’t be as loud in my confession as I felt. Nerves hit when I was only a few steps from Steve’s door. What if I’d already missed my chance downstairs when I’d been so cruel? What if I was about to make a complete fool out of myself? As my fist rested an inch away from the door, I almost pulled away and retired to my room.

No, I had to try at least.

I tapped the door softly and held my breath, I hadn’t even planned out what I’d wanted to say. There was no time to think as Steve opened the door quietly, his eyes widening a little at the sight of me. He definitely hadn’t expected to see me again tonight. I stood there awkwardly rubbing my hands together trying to think of the right thing to say. How was I supposed to convey ten years of loving someone into the small window I had? I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. God bless Steve, he stood there patiently waiting for me to be ready.

One of my favorite things about our friendship was that Steve and I had always been able to communicate with each others eyes. It had served us well in battle, on team game nights but I needed it to serve me well now more than ever. I needed him to see every ounce of love and longing I had for him in one simple look. His lips parted while I stared at him as if he could read my mind, his own eyes coming alight.

He pulled me to him so fast I barely had time to register our lips meeting.

I winded my arms around Steve’s neck as I drank in the moment, trying to get as close to him as I could. Both of his hands gripped my back, holding me as if I was about to disappear. Our lips moved together frantically, we were trying to make up for ten years of lost time. He pulled me into his room and I kicked the door shut, never breaking the kiss or losing contact. Steve’s hands slid down to my hips, squeezing ever so slightly and causing a moan to escape me. He was spurred on further now, running his hands down my sides to hit my thighs and lift me up. I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us towards his bed, sitting down on the edge. Steve’s lips broke from mine to attach at my jawline to press featherlight kisses, I let out a soft groan and tangled one of my hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. These were the lines I’d longed to cross three years ago in that safe house, this is how I’d wanted that story to end. Steve’s ministrations moved down my neck, kissing and sucking at spots that made me moan louder. He was chasing my pleasure as if it was his own and it only added to what I felt for him in the moment.

Once he reached my shoulder, his lips ghosted over my skin and he chuckled. I pulled away, my chest heaving, hoping he wasn’t beginning to regret our actions.

“Are you okay?” I whispered through my pants.

He nodded, his forehead pressed against my skin, “I just never thought I’d get to hold you like this again.”  There it was, the exact moment where my heart burst with affection for Steven Grant Rogers when I thought it was impossible. Only he could cause such a heated moment only to make it the sweetest.

He pulled his head back to look at me, his lips swollen, his hair messy and his eyes lit up. He’d never looked more beautiful and he’d never looked more at ease. I wanted nothing more than to love him the way he deserved and beyond.

I moved my hands to his cheeks, “I love you so much, Steve. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

He stared at me with lips parted and a lopsided grin, “Sweetheart, I think we’ve both fucked this up enough over the past ten years. You getting upset one time isn’t going to scare me off.”

I smirked, “Language, Captain.”

Steve laughed lightly before pressing a kiss to the inside of my palm,

“Promise me,” he said softly, his eyes closed as he left more kisses in my hand, “Promise me you won’t leave, not just tonight.”  My heart broke at the fact that my insecurities and inability to deal with my emotions had caused him so much pain. He’d been waiting years for me to come out of my hole of grief, just hoping for a moment like the one we were in the midst of. I wanted to make up for every missed chance and lost opportunity we’d seen.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, pressing our foreheads together and dragging Steve’s hand to my chest to rest over my heart, “You’re stuck with me, Rogers.”

“Not a bad proposition if you ask me,” he grinned, tracing his thumb across the neckline of my tank top, “I love you so much.”  I smiled, tracing a finger over his lower lip, “I love you too.”  He connected our lips again, this time softer than when I’d entered the room. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right in the world. I knew outside the compound, the world was still on fire. In the morning we’d have to worry about missions and doing what we could to help rebuild but for now? For right now, all Steve and I had to do was make up for ten years of lost time.

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x you #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #hopingforbarnes250writingchallenge

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