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lostinlewis · 1 year

Text

Teammates…

Rating: M

Words: 10,374

Raised to be afraid of nothing, to be scared of nobody, to live your life as if whatever landed on your doorstep was meant for you was all well and good, it helped you climb through the ranks as a Mercedes junior, all the way up to what was considered the top spot, one of two seats within the Mercedes AMG Formula One team, but none of what was taught to you from the moment you came into the world had any kind of bearing on the fact that you were absolutely terrified of flying and no matter how many flights you took over the years, and you took many, it never once got any easier.

The clock on the screen that played a movie you would never choose to watch if you weren’t on a flight, read 02:47am and you sighed. You had been on this flight for four hours now, four painfully boring hours, in which you fought to overcome anxiety the whole time, whilst trying your best to sleep too.

Unlike practically all of the team members that surrounded you, your inability to sleep was ever present, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that almost every single one of them snored like they were a high school band still finding their harmony together. You were certain that if purgatory was real, this was your version.

Your phone screen lit up so brightly it illuminated your whole dark aisle and you smirked, reading the name a few times to really take in who it was. You knew right then that the universe had answered your prayers for a distraction in some form, but certainly not the form you would have chosen, but beggars can’t be choosers and right in this moment, you would have taken anything.

‘I’m just laying here thinking about your pretty face…’

A part of you hoped he had sent a picture along with it, a little reminder of the body you laid with on and off for a few months up until last year, but he didn’t, yet still you remembered exactly how he looked and that was the final nail in the coffin to ensure you would do something that could end very badly for you, especially in your new position.

Boredom with a sprinkle of needing an ego boost made sure that any repercussions that may come from your actions, were the furthest thing from your mind right at that moment, the serotonin of having his attention once more made it so you craved the guaranteed high of an exchange with him, even if it only lasted for the remainder of the flight.

It was hard to hide the smile on your face as you rose from your seat, what you were about to do was dangerous yet it played perfectly to your constant need to live life on the edge. What did a little reputation in motorsport matter anyway? As the first female on the grid you were always one step away from being diminished or discredited, no matter how well you behaved.

As you walked towards the toilet you locked eyes with the only other person awake on the plane, Lewis. Despite him being your teammate for close to a year now, you had never really spent time with him away from the team, nor did you have conversations with him at all that wasn’t about racing. Lewis found you stubborn, strong willed, exactly the kind of person he struggled to get along with; the mirror image of him.

Lewis didn’t smile at you, instead he held eye contact with you until it was no longer possible, so intense it was, it felt like he was trying to speak to you through the power of thought. The moment you felt the eye contact get uncomfortable, you screwed up your face as if to ask him what his problem was before you headed to your destination; the bathroom.

Seventeen pictures, seventeen pictures in what you were sure was the world's smallest bathroom, you thought you deserved an award for your skill at even managing to take one good enough to send to him. The picture itself was not what you would deem a nude as such, sure there was plenty of bare skin on show, but the parts of you that warranted that label were covered up, even if all they were covered by was your hands across your chest or your lace panties that revealed your freshly waxed mound.

You looked good and you knew it, it was only fair that someone else got to see it too. You reasoned with yourself as you pressed send and allowed the little anxious butterflies in your tummy, once there due to your fear of flying, now having been replaced with the waiting for a response, engulf you in a giddy walk back to your seat.

You passed Lewis again on your way back, this time you didn’t have to make uncomfortable eye contact as he was facing the other way, but that didn’t stop him from catching your attention with the way his fingers brushed against your wrist, in an almost hold but with no strength behind it at all; if you weren’t mistaken, it was as if he was nervous about touching you.

“You good?”

It was possible to count the unforced interactions you had with Lewis on one hand so to say his question came out of the blue would be completely correct, your face told him of your confusion.

“Fine, are you?”

“I’m very well.”

The smirk on his face after he replied should have been the first sign something was up, but you were too lost in the haze of the attention you anticipated pouring through your phone screen any moment now to dwell on it much. You never normally gave Lewis much of a thought, and you certainly were not planning on starting now.

You had checked your phone close to a thousand times before there was any notification present, as the plane came into land and all hope was lost, your confidence shattered by the lack of acknowledgement to what you thought was a very good picture indeed, you suddenly had your hopes sky rocketed once more as the screen lit up with signs of a message.

The name was not the one you were expecting at all, and as you read it over and over to make sure it was real, confusion sunk in further, as well as fear. Why would Lewis be messaging you?

You looked up before opening it, wanting to catch his attention to see if you could grasp the vibe before the surprise, but he was already walking towards the exit, as if the message was sent and immediately he lost all confidence and had to be as far away from you as possible. Covering your phone screen with your hand, to shield it from prying eyes, you opened it and immediately nausea rushed over you.

‘I know that wasn’t meant for me but for what it’s worth, you look incredible. Sleep well :)’

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuckkkk.

Your surroundings began to spin, your breathing began to labour, how could you be so stupid? Why did you not check who you were sending the picture to? And of all people, Lewis? Fuck. This was bad. This was really bad.

It was an easy mistake to make in hindsight, when you thought you had pressed send, you had pressed airdrop instead. You tried to reason with your anxiety all night, sleep still evaded you in spells, reasoning that there were far worse people on that plane to accidentally airdrop an almost nude to, your team principal being one of them. The reasoning didn’t help though, sure there were worse people to send it to, but sending it to your teammate, the literal face of the sport you had fought so hard to be in and more importantly, be taken seriously in for your whole life, was pretty bad too.

There’s no coming back from this, there’s no making this better, you’ll be the laughing stock of the paddock tomorrow and all because you wanted a little attention from someone you hadn’t seen in months. You got all the attention you wanted and more now, idiot.

Your thoughts were mean, a constant cycle of beating yourself up whilst debating if or even how you should reply to Lewis. You decided against it, there was nothing you could say that could make this situation any better, besides, burying your head in the sand and pretending it hadn’t happened sounded far easier; ignorance was bliss, afterall.

At some point during the endless torture of yourself, you fell asleep, waking only when your trainer rained a tirade of aggression against your hotel room door.

“I’m up! Sorry!”

You were up in every sense but physically, figuring you could sneak a few more minutes of sleep in before you really had to leave.

“You better be, you’re expected in the briefing room in twenty minutes.”

Fuck.

The dash around the room, scraping yourself together the best you could, allowed you to leave the anxiety of facing Lewis to the wayside for a moment but that didn’t stop it from hitting you like a brick as you approached the door to the briefing room, being able to hear his distinctive giggle through the walls already did not help at all, not one bit. Despite knowing how improbable it was, you thought maybe he was laughing at your expense, maybe they all were.

“Ah finally decided to join us then?”

If looks could kill you would have taken out your engineer with just a glance, but alas they couldn’t so all eyes were on you instead as you sheepishly took your seat, across from Lewis, avoiding every bit of eye contact that was possible.

This is going to be a long day, a really fucking long day.

Your presence within the meeting was pointless, you engaged in absolutely nothing, you contributed about the same too and at the best of times you barely heard what any one person said. You were going into an Azerbaijan race weekend with not a clue on strategy, preparation or even if your car would be upgraded. This would be a disaster, you knew it already, and it was all your own stupid fault.

Like a child awaiting the bell for lunchtime, the second you were dismissed from the meeting you ran out of there and straight back to your drivers room where you felt safe enough to hide within the sweet escape of sleep until you had press duties to attend to.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed from the moment you fell asleep until the moment you felt your phone vibrate against your cheek, the fact that it was squished between you and the sofa you slept on made it too strong to simply ignore.

The screen read Lewis and all at once you wanted your whole body to merge with the sofa so that you no longer existed; facing your actions was the farthest thing from comfortable right now, especially not now that you had to also face said actions in real life too.

‘I figured I owe you one…’

Nothing could have prepared you for the image that loaded under the text, nothing could make you feel in any way easy about what you saw. If you had to pick one moment that changed the course of your career, and the relationship you had with your teammate, it would have been easy to pinpoint it on the accidental sending of an almost nude on a flight, but if you were honest, it was the moment he decided to reciprocate said accident with an intention of his own.

Laid out on a sofa matching yours, naked but for a towel positioned strategically over most of his thickness, Lewis’ body was on display for you, and it was quite literally breathtaking. Every muscle was defined as if sculpted by Michelangelo himself, every inch of his skin glowing the kind of glow that teased moisture post shower. His neck was adorned with the prettiest pearls but what really caught your eye, the one thing you would find impossible to ever forget, was the way he made absolutely certain to leave you wanting - no needing - more by allowing you to see just enough to crave it with every fibre of your being.

The white towel hung loosely over his bulge, a sign that he was soft yet even in that state, bigger than you had ever seen a man before. Your mouth salivated as you took in every little detail of the image, it was incredibly difficult to look away.

The tufts of hair at its base were neatly trimmed, you would have imagined him bald had anyone asked you, but he wasn’t. Like the icing on a cake, the cherry on top of what was an image that would forever be burned in your brain, you noticed the vein that protruded from the base, and ran up his very defined V line. It was then that you were cemented in the knowledge that at all costs, you would know exactly how it felt to run your tongue down said vein, you would know exactly what wonders it led to, eventually.

You mused over replying for a while, unsure of the best response, you hadn’t seen a teammate naked before but then again you hadn’t accidentally sent a nude to one before either. You had to reply, it would be rude not to. Besides, how would you ever find out what he felt like in your mouth if you didn’t?

‘You didn’t owe me anything, Lewis.’

You wrote and deleted the words ‘thank you’ a thousand times before pressing send on the message, figuring that it was best to not come across as desperate in your message, keeping it casual instead. If he wanted a conversation, he would have to initiate it and he did.

‘Maybe not, but I’m a gentleman. You gave so you shall receive too.’

Your mind found itself in the gutter so easily, you were already thinking about just what you wanted to give him and now he had thrown in the idea that you could also be receiving in this scenario, that was the confirmation that forever the relationship between the Mercedes’ drivers would be one that was entirely inappropriate and wholly frowned upon in racing circles, but you had never much cared for peoples opinions anyway, and neither had Lewis.

‘Maybe I should accidentally give some more if that’s what I get in return…’

‘You don’t have to give me anything, all you have to do is ask.’

A simple please would have sufficed yet the stubbornness within you reared its head once more, led out by your ever growing confidence in the new scenario you had found yourself in, you did not want to beg him, you did not want him to think you were even really into him. If it was up to you, you would be able to play it cool right up until it was no longer feasible, but then again, Lewis was your competitor in this fight and he was someone no one could beat.

The thing about Lewis though, the one part of him that transcended all matters of his life, if he wanted something, if he was focused on something, that would be all he did, and right now he was focused on you. Before you had even found words to reply with, you found yourself in possession of another picture, this one a little more explicit than the last.

Still laid out on the sofa, one of his hands placed on his chest, the other teased down the towel a little further, allowing you to be overwhelmed by not only just the thickness now but the length too. He was careful to not reveal it all, but what you had seen already was more than enough to make sure that it didn’t matter what happened this weekend, you had to leave Baku knowing him far more intimately than you ever thought you would.

‘Lewis, it’s so big 😳’

‘I never had you of all people down as scared…’

He was challenging you, playing to the competitive side he had only ever seen on the race track, and it was working. You wanted to throw back an answer to explain how far from scared you were, but you also didn’t want to entertain the ego trip he would have gotten from it.

This was it, this was the perfect opportunity to send him a little picture back, the perfect opportunity to make sure that you would not be the only Mercedes driver with their head elsewhere this weekend.

You laid back on your sofa much as he had his own, shuffling down your sweats until all that the camera could see was the white lace panties you had on. Pressing the record button on the video, you brought it down closer to your body so that every inch of the screen was filled with an image that you wanted no one else to see but Lewis.

Teasing your thighs apart just enough to make sure the camera picked up the little wet patch on the outside of your panties, and to be very certain you ran your finger over your folds, you felt it most important that he knew exactly where to look.

‘My room, now.’

Sneaking out of your driver's room to cross the hallway into Lewis’ was no mean feat. People were everywhere, members of your team just a few steps to your right, journalists from sky a few to the left, interviewing your team principal of all people. If anyone was to spot you cross the hallway and disappear into his room there would be speculation in abundance, but it was a risk you were willing to take; the little taste of Lewis you had so far was more than enough to make it so it overruled any sensibility you had within you.

Lewis was waiting for you, sat on the sofa, his legs spread wide, his body laid back; the evidence of the game you played for the past hour was sitting proudly in his sweats, almost daring you to look.

“Are you just going to stand there, or would you like to sit down?”

For a moment you almost forgot who you were, for a moment he almost had you shy, something you had never been before. As you dared to lower your eyes to the obvious bulge in his sweats, you found your confidence once more; desire often did that to you.

The space between the door you were standing by and the sofa he beckoned you towards was minimal but the way in which he watched you the whole time made it feel like the longest walk in the world.

“No, not there…here.”

Lewis took your hand and lowered you down onto his lap, where you were greeted with the feeling of his thickness underneath you for the very first time. It was too tempting to not roll your ass into it a little, just to make sure you could really feel it.

You let out a little sigh as you felt it press against your cheeks, Lewis laughed in response, pulling you back so you were laid just as he was, your head resting in the crook of his neck, the only part of you left that was unattended to were your hands; he soon found a place for them too, in the grip of his own.

“So…I bet you didn’t think you would find yourself here this afternoon.”

You were very conscious of the feeling of his warm breath against your neck, you wondered if he could feel the way your skin washed with goosebumps all over in response.

“Not at all, I could barely pay attention in the meeting earlier. I was so worried about what happened.”

“You didn’t pay attention? Babe, you haven’t raced Baku before have you?”

“No but I’m sure it will be fine, I just-“

Lewis stopped your words short by using your own fingers to turn your face around to look at his, as best you could anyway.

Your eyes dropped to his lips, licking your own without thinking how obvious you were making your hunger for him. He nudged your chin up, telling you to look at him properly.

“Baku is not a track you can wing it on. You need to know the track before you even step foot in the car, want me to teach you?”

“No it’s fine, I didn’t come here for a lesson on racing, I came here for you.”

You brought Lewis’ hand up to your lips, kissing the very same tattoos you found to be utterly compelling at the best of times, now even more so.

For a moment your touch had hypnotised him, you had made him lose track of his thoughts, and for a moment you felt like the most powerful person in that room, before he found himself again and showed you competition for that crown.

“How about I run through the track with you, help you memorise it, and whilst I’m doing that I will also make sure you leave here with a smile…”

“Lewis, how will-“

He had a knack for stopping short any questions you had, answering them before you even asked them, and as his hand found the waistband of your sweats, his fingers tickling underneath with ease, he very quickly had you melting in his lap as if he had done this to you a thousand times before.

“It’s not like any other street track really, it lets you race, so you’ll need to get a good start…”

You heard his words almost hitch in his throat, your gasp as his finger found your clit so easily, and attempted to stop them in their tracks.

“Relax, baby…I know what I’m doing…”

You didn’t doubt he did, still nothing would make you relax as the man hummed words of racing in your ear whilst he sent your nerve endings into a frenzy with a gentle stroke of his finger over your central point.

“You're practically dripping, babe.”

Words that immediately made embarrassment wash over you, so much so that you threw your arm over your eyes as if to shield yourself from them. His fingers felt like they belonged on your pussy, but the reminder of who they belonged to was so intense.

“Hey, don’t do that…no need to be embarrassed around me, I love that you get so wet, it’s exactly what I like.”

Lewis pulled your hand away from your face before he removed his finger from your clit, bringing up to his lips to taste you.

“Shit…I’m going to need to eat that pussy soon, you taste incredible.”

“Lewis, stop…”

He could tell how shy he was making you with his words, shy was not something he had ever seen you be before now, yet the smile on his face told you that he had no intention of stopping.

“You’re going to learn a lot from me, babe. First lesson, learning how to love the way that I appreciate your body…”

And with that, he relaxed you back onto his chest so he could really play with you this time.

“Now where was I? Ah Castle Corner…”

Two fingers now found their place between your folds, making you moan breathlessly as he teased your clit with so much more pressure than before, teasing them down towards your heat, his thumb finding your clit to soothe you as you felt the thickness of his fingers inside of you all at once.

“Castle corner is tight…shit, so very tight…you’ll have to take it easy, tease the car into it so as to not break anything…”

If you were anyway coherent it would have impressed you how easily he found words that fit for both his description of the track, and everything he was doing to your body at the same time, but Lewis made it so incredibly difficult for you to concentrate on anything, for you to see anything for you to hear anything, every part of you overwhelmed with more pleasure than you had felt before in your life.

“See how good it feels when you take your time with something precious? It’s so fragile, yet if you tease it just right, you will have the car purring in your hands in no time…purr for me, baby.”

His tongue traced a line across your neck, replacing it with kisses until he was able to nibble on your ear.

“Lewis…I…I feel…”

“I can feel it coming too, let me win this one, don’t fight it. Look at me.”

With the hand not fucking you, he cupped your chin, turning you to look him in the eyes.

“Trust me to make you feel good, don’t think about it, just let it happen.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you felt the familiar tension build within you, you were close to exploding all over the fingers of your teammate, the man who was staring into your eyes like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and there was not a single thing you could do to stop it now; you were about to give him all of you, you were about to let him win. You never let anyone win.

“Lewis…”

His name left your lips in a whispered moan, there was no point to saying it, it was as if you wanted the universe to know who was making you feel this good.

“Trust me, baby…trust me…”

His chants were exactly what you needed to keep you focused on what you were feeling, what wasn’t needed was the perfectly timed knock on his driver's room door as your orgasm began to peak.

“Lewis, you’re due in the media centre in 10 minutes.”

Lewis cupped his free hand around your mouth, knowing the explosion he was about to cause would make it impossible for you to not get you both caught.

“Quiet, baby.”

He whispered in your ear as he never once let off of you, your orgasm was priority, despite the fact that one of the team was standing on the other side of the door.

“Also have you seen…”

“No I haven’t seen her…good girl, stay quiet for me…I’ll be out in five minutes, just finishing something up…fuck I wish I was inside of you right now…”

His voice was a little louder than he would have liked, overcome by the strain in his pants, he was unable to think of anything but how he longed to feel you tense around his dick much like you were tensing around his fingers.

“I wish…I wish…”

“Oh I know you want it too, baby. If you’re a good girl, you’ll get it soon. I promise I will spend the whole weekend making you feel so good.”

The mixture of the way he controlled your shaking body in his lap, whispering in your ear to praise you, as he held the most normal of conversations with someone else, made it impossible for you to not explode, in silence, with Lewis’ big hand wrapped across your mouth as you whimpered against it.

“There you go, feel all of it baby.”

Lewis sucked on your ear as he eased you through an orgasm so intense you thought it impossible that it would ever end. It did, eventually, and as you slowly came down from your high, Lewis soothed you with the softest kisses against your cheek, the constant praise he reigned down on you was the sweetest lullaby.

“Thank you.”

Never before had Lewis seen you so subdued, never did he imagine that all it took to get you to submit to him, to let him win in a battle, was a simple orgasm in his lap. Now he knew though, he would be using that to his advantage whenever he needed to.

“Come on.”

Despite the fact you saw him pretty much everyday, the fact he was strong enough to lift you both out of the seat and onto your feet still surprised you.

“Lewis, can you make an excuse for me or something?”

“What should I say to the press? That I made my teammate cum so hard she can barely function now? No baby, we have commitments to attend to and your legs shaking is not an excuse to miss them, you don’t want to let the team down, do you?”

He took your hand, leading the way right up until the point he reached his door before he froze, turning back to you.

“Probably best we don’t leave together, I could come up with an excuse if we are caught but the look on your face right now will prove me a liar.”

Lewis kissed you on the cheek, it was at that moment you realised that despite the fact you had just orgasmed because of him, and for him, you hadn’t even kissed yet. This was like a backwards game of lustful teenagers, and the final act would be one where he told you he had a crush on you. Not that he needed to now.

“I’ll go first, see you in there-”

He held your arm as you passed him, catching your attention for the final time.

“Oh and babe, in public we’re just teammates, remember that.”

You smiled at him, holding his gaze just long enough to make him squirm as he waited for your response.

“In private we’re just teammates too, Lewis.”

You caught his eye as he walked into the media centre, of course you were paired together, you were never paired together but as if the universe was playing a cruel trick on you, it decided today would be the day it wanted to see you try and keep focused on your job, when the fact you had a little taster of everything the man sat just to your left could do a few moments before you stepped inside the room, made it extremely difficult.

Observing him as he took his seat felt a little different than usual, normally you held your gaze for just about as long as you could get away with to be polite but this time you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, Lewis just being Lewis had you enchanted.

He looked so good, his white t-shirt hung over his jeans tighter than usual, outlining every curve in his almost non existent waist whilst the sleeves clung tight to his arms, now all you could think about was how it would feel to be held in them again as you fell apart. How were you expected to function as anything but a woman that longed for Lewis’ touch again?

As you took him all in, you noticed something that made your eyes widen and your lips moisten; a damp patch on his jeans, no bigger than the size of a coin and noticeable only to those who looked close enough, and you certainly were. It sat proudly by the bulge that even through the thick material of denim was prominent, begging for the attention it so rightly deserved.

Your mind wandered to thoughts of who’s excitement it belonged to, having fallen apart right there on his lap a few minutes ago it was probably yours, but you had felt how worked up he was, you had heard snippets of how he strained under his clothes as his dick fought to be inside of you.

You hoped it was his, and as you barely listened to the mundane questions of the journalists in the room, you allowed yourself to hope that the next time his excitement wasn’t wasted on clothes that it would soon be washed out of, but instead savoured on your tongue, the taste left as a reminder of the man who was your fiercest competitor but now also your mentor, of a very different kind.

“So Lewis, what outfit do you have planned for us tomorrow?”

Questions to the nineteen other drivers, including yourself, were almost always about racing but when it came to Lewis, they were something different. Questions about his personal life in abundance, about his projects outside of Formula One, questions directed to him for a quote on world events and every now and then they would throw in a question just for the fans, like this one, or so you thought it was anyway.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

“We would, your outfits are always a spectacle of a race weekend. Your Miami outfit was a personal favourite.”

You couldn’t help but screw your face up at the journalist who was so blatantly flirting with Lewis, before you smirked in pity. You wanted to interrupt her, save her the embarrassment of being shot down by him in public, but you weren’t about to ruin what had just started between you both by making your disdain for her obvious.

“A personal favourite? Interesting…I’ll have to remember that for next weekend.”

You were stunned by Lewis flirting back with her, how dare he? Especially when you were sitting right beside him? You decided right then that if this was the game he wanted to play, playing with you in secret whilst playing with everyone else in public, you wanted nothing to do with it; you had to stop this before it was too late, you knew you would be the one to get hurt, nothing and no one got to Lewis Hamilton.

“Drive safe, babe.”

Lewis whispered in your ear as you both went to your separate garages, preparing for Free Practice One. You didn’t turn to look at him, you didn’t wish him well either, the jealousy still seethed through you as you tried your best to focus on what was inevitably going to be a practice session you struggled with.

Struggle you did, the track foreign to you so every turn you made was a surprise. Sure, you had seen it on television, had walked it once too, but none of that came close to what it felt like as you drove at 200mph around the track, practising strategies you could barely remember thanks to your inability to focus on much else but Lewis.

The day had started with embarrassment, not wanting to face him as shame drove through you, and as you took the castle turn, the one he had told you how tight it was whilst he felt how tight you were, your mind ran with thoughts of knowing that Lewis was bad for you, yet also knowing you couldn’t quit him, not yet anyway.

“Lewis is just behind you now, let him through, he’s on a fast run.”

The call came through from your engineer before you had noticed him in the mirror, as his car got closer you could see the fluorescent yellow helmet inside the cockpit, and once again your mind was distracted by thoughts of him, thoughts that were dangerous at the best of times, but almost certainly in the cockpit of a racing car.

“Do you copy? Move over for him, now.”

You moved over but it was too late, you were not focused at all and your moving over meant that whilst Lewis had space to get past you, you drove straight into the barrier and with that, Free Practice was finished for you for the session.

“You good?”

Lewis found his way to your driver's room the second he was out of the car, not even knocking first to make sure you were decent before he walked in, clearly that didn’t matter anymore now that he had seen, and felt, more than a teammate ever should.

“I’m fine.”

The frostiness of your answer mixed with the way you shrugged off his hand from your shoulder as he approached you had Lewis confused.

“You had me worried out there, that could have been a bad crash. I’ve been thinking, maybe we should behave ourselves this weekend.”

“Oh, I should have guessed this was coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“That little stunt you pulled, the flirting with the journalist with me right beside you, if you wanted to let me know that I wasn’t shit to you, you could have just said.”

Lewis didn’t force you to look at him, nor did he respond to your comment immediately, instead he moved behind you as you stood in the middle of the room, making you focus on the way he made every single tiny hair on your body stand on edge as you felt his presence around you, his hot breath against the back of your neck as he leant in just a little closer, his soft lips on your skin as he placed tender kisses on your nape.

“Baby, you can’t be getting jealous now…especially over nothing, you know I flirt with everyone.”

Even if you wanted to fight his protests, you were so very weak to his touch that it was impossible. Your head rolled back towards him, freeing up space on your neck for him to really smother your skin in kisses.

“Besides, how do I know there isn’t a little boyfriend out there somewhere, you were sending someone a nude after all…”

It felt like Lewis was attempting to make love to your skin with his lips with the way he was kissing you.

“There’s no…no boyfriend.”

“Good because even if there was, I’m not sure I could control myself around you any longer.”

“Do you…do you really want to stop?”

Your voice was weakened by the state in which he kept you in with his lips on your skin, it was as if every touch he made took every drop of sense out of you, as if he was the force that made you lose every little bit of fight that had been built in you from the moment you started karting at five years old; Lewis was your kryptonite, there was nothing at all you could do about it now.

“No, what I really want right now is to be buried between those thighs but baby, you need to focus on racing this weekend…”

His lips worked their way up your neck, nibbling on your earlobe before he found your cheek. It was no coincidence that the closer he got to you, he was practically on top of you now, your core began to ache for him as if it already knew how good he would feel inside of you.

“I don’t…I’m okay, I can do both…please…”

“Baby, this is for your own safety, we have to put this on pause for the moment before it’s too late.”

Lewis worked his lips all the way across your cheek until he could not move anymore, instead bringing himself around to face you, cupping your face in his hands before he did the thing you had yet to do, he kissed you.

Your tongues fought a battle that differed on each side, on Lewis’ it was a dangerous game of resistance that he was quickly losing, yours was one of seduction, desperation, a need that had to be fulfilled fast, as the longing for it grew stronger with each minute.

“Lewis…please…”

He held your wrist, moving your hand to place it over the bulge that was so incredibly hard you wondered how it hadn’t ripped through his race suit already.

“You feel that? You feel how hard it is for you? How badly I want to do everything you need me to do to you…”

You wondered if it was a coincidence that as he described how much he longed to be inside of you, you felt his dick twitch violently in your grasp, asking for you to release it from its restraints, begging for you to do what it only imagined you could do.

“I need…I need you to do it, I can’t focus without it.”

Whilst he took most of your breath just by the way his lips brushed over yours, an almost kiss, he resisted every urge he had to back you up to the wall and take you right there, adrenaline pumped through your body as if he fed it directly to you.

“I can’t…not here…I can’t fuck you here.”

You felt his weakening resistance, you found your opportunity and with that you also found a confidence you hadn’t yet seen in his presence since this began.

“Then how about we compromise?”

His eyes told you that he was clinging to every word as your hand moved from his bulge to the waistband of his race suit that hung around his hips, slipping in between them so you found your fingers tickling the tufts of hair that hung at the base of the thing you wanted to feel most.

“How about between now and free practice two we give in to our urges, we don’t fight them, and then we will be good until the race weekend is over?”

“Shit…baby, I swear you are making this so so difficult for me.”

Your fingers slid around his shaft, a loose grip with full intention to make him want you more, if that was even possible.

“It doesn’t have to be difficult, Lewis. You don’t need to protect me, I want this as much as you do.”

He pulled his race suit further down his body, allowing you the kindness that was taking him in your hand with a firm grip, the kind of grip that made his lips part as his tongue couldn’t help but lick them.

“Lewis, you’re practically dripping…”

You smirked, reciting a line he had used on you only a few hours before, as you ran your thumb across the slit that so frequently leaked his desire, it seemed such a shame to waste what was meant for you in your hands when the urge to taste him grew stronger by the minutes.

“Can I ask you something?”

A question thrown at you whilst you gently stroked the throbbing dick of the man standing just in front of you, was anything but expected.

“Okay…”

“Why are you still standing? You would look so much better on your knees.”

You dropped to your knees with little to no elegance, holding his gaze the whole time as where your thumb had once been, you found your tongue tracing the same line.

“Oh shit…”

Lewis’ whole body shook as you tasted him, his fingers running through your hair told you that your compromise was granted, your wish to have your way with him a little more before racing duties called upon you both was allowed, and as your lips rolled down the entirety of his length until he hit the back of your throat, hearing his sweet little moans made it all the more worthwhile.

Time was irrelevant with Lewis on your tongue, what did it matter that you had to be in the car in ten minutes? Free practice could wait, you were going to savour his flavour on every little taste bud, memorising the thud against the back of your throat, impossible it was to not bruise you with his size, as you worked him with your mouth.

With all the will in the world behind you, you were determined to impress him, but more importantly, you were determined to make it so that your mouth was all he thought about getting back to after an hour on the track; anything else would be a bonus.

The fingers that had been inside of you only hours ago, now ran over your hair with strokes of encouragement, the words he had found so easily when it was your turn, now hitched in his throat at every attempt to speak.

“Fuck…”

A man normally so eloquent, now reduced to only being able to mumble curse words, your lips had rendered him weak, and whilst you were not quite able to beat him on track just yet, at this very moment you had won; a secret victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Baby, I need to taste you…come here.”

Lewis shed both of you of your race suits so quickly you would have thought this too was a competition. As he laid back on your driver's room couch, dick standing up from his body, he waited for you to take a seat on his face as if this was something you had done so many times before.

Straddling him was nerve wracking, you hovered politely above his face so as to not put any weight on him, but that didn’t matter; Lewis’ hands gripped your thighs to pull you down as close as you could get to his face.

It was sheer want to please him that led you through what was the most difficult task of your life. His dick was huge, sure, but you could have learnt to deal with that alone. What really made it difficult for you, was how insanely good he was at eating pussy.

“Lewis…you’re making it so hard for me…”

“Oh you’re going to let me beat you again?”

He knew exactly what to say to make you fight every distraction, every wave of pleasure he sent through your body, just to ensure that he was the one that exploded in the throes of pleasure first.

Feeling Lewis orgasm, the way liquid squirted down your throat, the hot breath against your pussy as he moaned uncontrollably was everything you imagined it would be and more. As you swallowed the last drop, you hit your peak, to which you sat up right on his face to allow him as much of a taste of you as you had him.

As the sunlight peeked through the blinds that never closed all the way, the possibility of your illicit affair being exposed through the lack of privacy hadn’t once crossed your mind before now, but soon your attention was drawn elsewhere.

Lewis’ clothes were in disarray, the white Mercedes T Shirt that he had thrown on after your moment on the sofa, hung loosely on his body. The evidence of your undoing was dotted around his neckline, but the one thing the sunlight allowed you to notice, the thing it highlighted more than anything was the glistening that decorated the words powerful beyond measure, the thick silver chain that sat on his neck was covered in your juices, a slick wet reminder of the wonder that was his tongue and just what he could do with it.

“I swear if I don’t get to fuck you soon, I might not be able to function.”

“Why don’t you just ignore the fact we have to be somewhere and just get it over with?”

“Baby, when it finally happens this will not be a quick ten minutes, I want to take time with your body, I want to feel you shaking underneath me multiple times…I can’t do that in ten minutes.”

“How about we compromise? How about you put it in for just one minute so I can feel you and then we will carry on with our day…”

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

You saw it in his eyes that he was considering your proposal, but as if your colleagues knew to interrupt you both before you did something that there was no going back from, once again someone knocked on the door.

“Coming! Lewis has just gone to the bathroom.”

You answered the team member before they even had a chance to speak, the disturbances were now routine and their questions much the same. For the first time in your life, you couldn’t wait for a race weekend to end, just so you could have Lewis all to yourself, without the fear of anyone disturbing you

As you relaxed in your much needed warm bath that evening back at the hotel, your phone screen lit up from where it was resting on the counter and already you knew who it was.

‘I can still taste you on my tongue…’

Accompanying the message was a picture a little more innocent than the ones that got you into this trouble in the first place, just a selfie with some chest on display.

‘Do you want to join me?’

You sent him back a picture of you, tastefully covering all that he had already seen, with bubbles. Every single part of you wanted him to say yes, you couldn’t wait until the weekend was over to have him, you needed him now.

‘More than anything but we have to be good. 8pm Sunday, I will be outside of your hotel room door.’

‘Fine. I won’t make this easy for you though.’

‘I would expect nothing less. See you tomorrow :)’

You were sure when Lewis read that you wouldn’t make waiting easy for him, that he never imagined the lengths you would go to to make sure he wanted you more than you wanted him; one look at the Instagram story that you posted before you walked through the paddock told him exactly how far you would go.

Since the moment you joined Formula One you were so very careful to never wear anything that made people talk, they did that enough with you just being a woman anyway. You stuck to mostly team wear, not today though, today you wanted everyone to talk, and you wanted Lewis to hear it.

Your dress went against all the rules, revealing both too much of your chest and your legs at the same time, exactly what you need to reveal to make everyone want you, but most importantly, to make Lewis want you too.

‘Fuck me…’

Lewis took all of five minutes of seeing your story to message you, having not seen you in person yet as he was locked away with his engineer.

‘I’ve been trying to, babe…’

Gone was the timid, unsure girl that he had begun messing with a day ago. Like Sandy in Grease, you had your makeover and now you were going to get your man, somehow.

‘You can’t do this to me, I am trying to be strong for your own good.’

You could read his frustration through his words, a part of you expected a knock on the door any moment now, but you also knew just how stubborn he could be. That was okay though, you were prepared for stubbornness.

‘Just so you know, I spent the whole night studying the track, I don’t need protecting this weekend, I need you to fuck me.’

Lewis didn’t reply this time but what you said was true, you had spent the whole night studying the track. As much as you begrudged having to do exactly what he told you to do, the desire that burnt inside you for him only grew by the hour and the longer he withheld exactly what you wanted, the worse it got.

All eyes were on you as you entered the team meeting, not because you were late this time, but because you were dressed to be stared at. Covering your modesty a little in a Mercedes T Shirt on top, it swamped your dress completely so somehow your outfit looked even more revealing than before.

You caught Lewis’ eye in an instant and smirked at him, you could see him salivating as he watched you take your usual seat opposite him.

This time you paid attention to every word in the meeting, not wanting to give him the attention he was so used to from you, you focused on the speakers at all times and never once glanced at him, even as he purposefully sought your attention by brushing his boot against your bare legs multiple times.

It amused you no end that the less attention you paid to him, the more desperate he became. Your phone screen lit up on the table in front of you, and you ignored it, you already knew it was another message from Lewis.

Nothing worked on you and it frustrated him endlessly, as the meeting wound down his desperate sighs had reached their peak volume.

“Where are you going so fast?”

Lewis was careless now that he was desperate, grabbing your wrist to pull you back as your colleagues walked past you both.

You lowered your gaze until he realised what he was doing and quickly let go of you.

“Careful, we’re teammates, remember.”

He shook his head slowly as he chose his next words so carefully, finally conscious of prying ears.

“This game that you’re playing…it won’t work you know.”

“There’s no game, Lewis. I’m just doing what you said, now I better go back to my room to study some more before qualifying.”

Leaving him standing alone in the hallway, he had no choice but to watch your hips sway purposefully, there was something about this teasing of him that was so satisfying.

What you had done so far had worked perfectly well. Lewis might have thought he was holding strong so far but what you were about to do next would be the ultimate test of his discipline.

You waited until the moment you heard his door shut to send what you had prepared for him just before you arrived at the track.

A short clip of you sat in the back of the car on the way to the grid, panning the camera down slowly until you reached where it met your bare legs, you pried them apart ever so slowly to reveal that whilst he was losing his mind over how good you looked in the dress, the real showstopper was hidden underneath; no panties.

It was doubtful that even thirty seconds had passed since you sent the video to him before you heard the gentle rattling of your door handle.

You knew to expect him, it was inevitable that whilst he was the most stubborn person you knew, you had felt how desperate he was to be inside of you as his dick twitched in his pants only yesterday.

“So all I had to do was ignore you and you would crumble? I wish I had known that sooner.”

Lewis wasted no time at all reaching you as you stood in wait for him on the other side of your room. The moment he got close enough, he lifted you up and threw you back against the wall with his whole weight; desire left him no room for care.

“In the nicest way possible, shut up.”

His lips met yours so ferociously they quite literally took your breath away. As he rid you of the Mercedes shirt you wore, he covered both of your breasts with his hands, squeezing tightly as he freed them from their cloth restraint. With your legs wrapped perfectly around his waist, your lips locked together, everything fell completely into place.

“Make me…”

You mumbled the moment he allowed you to breathe. Your few words revealed a darkness in his eyes as he knew exactly how you needed to be made to shut up, there was only one real way to make you submit to him now and there was no fight left in him to refuse you it.

“There…not so brazen now with my dick inside you, are you?”

He wasn’t wrong, he had rendered you completely inanimate the second it took to bottom out inside of you, giving no thought for the intense stretch you felt in an instant.

“Fuck…”

His face read the most devilish of smiles as he watched you struggle to adjust to him, you looked so meek, so innocent yet all he could think to do was completely corrupt you within the next few minutes.

“Now you got what you wanted, you better take it like you deserve it.”

You bit your bottom lip as your eyes widened, he hiked your legs up higher around his arms so he could get a better angle to make you really feel him. The stretch was more intense now, a sharp heated sting that you knew already you would be feeling for days to come.

“Please…”

One little pathetic plea from you was all it took to make him have mercy on your desires and begin to thrust in and out of you, a feeling you were certain would never be topped already.

“Baby, your pussy feels like magic…”

Lewis groaned into your neck as he devoured your skin, pounding you like the wall you were up against wasn't paper thin and your colleagues weren’t on the other side. That was until you were both reminded of that fact.

“Have you seen Lewis?”

A team member shouted to you through your door and you both froze, praying with everything you had that they didn’t open the unlocked door. Whilst they would find out where Lewis was immediately, there would also be no way to explain away the fact that he could be found inside you.

“Answer him before he decides to join us.”

Lewis hissed in your ear instructions that he knew you needed, it was impossible for you to function without them at the present.

“No sorry, I haven’t seen Lewis anywhere.”

Your voice was a struggle as he thrust into you once more purposefully making it almost impossible for you to not moan out.

“If you do see him, tell him Toto wants him in his office as soon as possible.”

“Shit…okay I will do! Shit, do you think they heard us?”

You whispered to Lewis as you watched concern wash across his face. Whilst the both of you battled for dominance together, there was one person who ruled it all, Toto; even Lewis knows he isn’t to be messed with.

“Maybe…I guess if they have, we’re in trouble already. Might as well make it worth it, right?”

All at once you felt his hand smother your mouth to keep you quiet as he began fucking you with every ounce of pent up frustration that had built up over the past day or so.

It was intense, rapid, every stroke made you feel so full of him, as well as awash with pleasure. He stared deep into your eyes the whole time, the ability to watch his lips quiver with pleasure told you that it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Baby, you’re going to cum in a second…don’t scream.”

His words confused you so much you frowned, you didn’t feel like you were, you were far too overwhelmed to focus on the finality.

“Trust me…”

Somehow Lewis was right, your orgasm took you by complete surprise as he drew it out of you so quickly you had absolutely no time to prepare. Your nails dug into every little bit of him you could reach, but nothing helped centre you as the most intense explosion you had ever felt erupted through your whole body.

He warned you not to scream, yet he did everything in his power to make sure you did. You fought it, you fought it so hard but as it laid on the tip of your tongue ready to escape into his hand, you bit down so hard on his skin that you almost broke it.

Lewis let out a guttural groan, one built from the pain in his hand as you tasted it, with an orgasm of his own thrown in, as he thrusted a few more sloppy times, releasing into you as if it was your reward for how well you had taken him.

“Ouch…”

He giggled as you finally released his hand from between your teeth, he shook it before examining the damage you had done.

“You told me not to scream…”

Suddenly a conversation with Lewis still inside of you, felt more normal than anything else. It was then that you realised this could never be just a Baku weekend thing, you couldn’t go back to just being his teammate now, not when you knew the power he held through the form of also being the best dick of your life.

“I did, but I didn’t tell you to take a chunk of me with you.”

“I think I have a little more than a chunk of you inside of me right now…”

It was then that Lewis realised what he had just done, releasing inside of you with little worry of the complications or consequences.

“Shit…I shouldn’t have done that.”

The urge to let him stew for a little longer in the panic you could see running through his mind at this very moment, was so very tempting. But as he let you down from where he held you against the wall, you pitied him a little.

“Don’t worry, I am not stupid enough to let you do that if there was any kind of risk.”

“Good, because I don’t know how I would explain getting the first female driver pregnant.”

The small talk, the banter, all of it was normally awkward after the very first time you slept with someone, yet with Lewis it felt comfortable, as you both caught your breath whilst tidying yourselves up as best you could.

“I think I better go and see what Toto has to say now…this isn’t going to be pretty.”

Lewis placed the most tender of kisses on your cheek before he made his way over to the door.

“Lewis, whatever happens it was worth it…for me anyway.”

You saw the effect your reassurance had on him as his face softened from a frown to the softest smile at you.

“It was worth it for me, too. Now finish your prep, quali starts in a little while.”

“Ah, there he is…”

“Who?”

“My teammate.”

“Shut up...before I make you, again.”

“How about you go and see what the boss wants and then you come right back here so you can make me shut up at least once more before we have to drive?”

“You are so fucking dangerous…”

“I thought you liked danger, Lewis?”

“I love it.”

#Lewis #ex #teammates

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angstfactory · 24 days

Text

@riaxnunez

These past two weeks, especially, had been an absolute wild ride. Not in any good way, either, but who was keeping track of that? Somehow, he managed to alienate half the people known to him, and the other half were either wrapped up in their own messes or simply waiting for him to show back up when he was ready to talk.

Jesse had certainly made a fucking dumpster fire mess of his life, lately. Now, to add on top of it, he was technically married.

After what felt like the tenth time he tossed or fidgeted in this unfamiliar and rather uncomfortable bed -- his back was used to the hard seat of the trailer's couch or that thin mattress in the bunk -- Jesse sat upright. Palms lightly dug into his eyes before he stared around bleakly. This wasn't his home, his room. He stuck out like a sore thumb. A pillow fortress had even been cut down the middle of the bed, to separate the two people that should have been sleeping there. Ria's side, however, was empty. Had she gone to sleep on the couch? Jesse had prepared to sleep on the couch himself, but it was her idea they could share the bed fine, so long as he kept his damn hands to himself and didn't get any funny ideas. Three months was a long time to spend uncomfortable on a couch, where any young pre-teen could stumble across the strange, unfamiliar man. In the end, it just seemed a better idea that he did stay in her room.

Bare feet touched the cold floor as Jesse scooted off bed and stood. Wide awake still, after three hours of laying there with thoughts. Jesse wore more clothes than he was used to -- a plain white t-shirt and some boxers -- for Ria's benefit than his own. He left the bedroom only to pause in the hallway, because there was some strange sounds from the kitchen. As Jesse followed it, he discovered where the young woman had gone to.

Ria sat at the table, and she was crying. Quietly, but the sniffles were a dead giveaway.

"What's wrong?" Jesse announced his presence with this question, coming forward to check on her. His voice kept low, however, so as not to wake her young siblings. He had a feeling that nobody, even himself, was really meant to find her this way.

It was probably a stupid question. Plenty was wrong, just with their situation alone. But theirs wasn't a permanent, life-ruining thing, right? Unless being shackled to him for three months was that unbearable for her. Jesse doubted he'd be so important a problem for her, though. They barely knew each other and were still in early stages of figuring out how to get on without going for throats. Besides... If either of them had something to complain about, Jesse felt more concessions had been forced on his side of the aisle than hers. The judge forced him to push into her life, because she had the kids here in this apartment and it was just him in the trailer. But -- they'd already had that argument, about who got it worse from their stupid mistake and well, they at least got to an 'agree-to-disagree' mindset. So again... Jesse doubted whatever troubled her now, had anything to do with their immature predicament.

#valeria & jesse #;; a bluejean serenade some kind of slick chrome american prince 🐎

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flowercitti · 1 year

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16 and 70 vashwood wahhhh (only if you'd like to ;;)

Ahhh thank u sm for sending an ask! 🌸🫶 (And I never really told u directly but I think of the art u made for my fic daily it’s so so gorgeous I squeal abt it all the time still.) Went ahead and just combined these two! I hope u enjoy! 🫶🌸

16: “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” And 70: “You’re warm.”

Vash has become accustomed to sharing a bed with Wolfwood over their travels. It’s cheaper, it’s easier, it ensures that they have each other’s back in an emergency. It means no one is forced onto the floor, no matter how much Vash would gladly do so. Wolfwood is strangely adamant that he doesn’t.

And, truthfully, Vash is often too exhausted at the end of long days or sometimes weeks of traveling without rest or breaks to even care where he rests his head. When they make it to a hotel, he’d be just as happy to fall asleep on a table if it meant he could close his eyes for a few hours.

So, falling asleep next to Wolfwood certainly isn’t the worst bed allocation. In fact, it’s rather pleasant. And that’s the problem.

Vash is starting to think he likes it a little too much.

He’s lying awake, eyes counting the stars and constellations outside the window so he doesn’t have to look at Nicholas’s sleeping face, far softer than what it looks like when he’s awake. He can hear the puff of his breaths, even and steady, a comforting reminder of his presence. Vash doesn’t quite know when Nicholas started meaning safety, but it’s irrevocable now. Like it’s always been that way, no matter how long Vash has lived. There was a before him, and now there’s a during. He doesn’t want to think of the after, so he doesn’t, only shakes his head and gives in to the urge to turn his gaze back towards the source of his thoughts.

Nicholas’s hair curls over his forehead, head buried into his pillow as he lays on his side. His lashes are long and dark, fanning out over his cheeks and fluttering minutely as he sleeps. The moonlight catches over the point of his cheekbone, his full lips parted just slightly, dark brows relaxed in a way that they often aren’t. Vash can’t help but look at him, something swelling his chest, a prickle of heat over his skin.

And then Wolfwood twitches, lax expression screwing up into a grimace. His breathing picks up, face jerking to the side as he huffs, a peak of teeth behind his twisting lips. He’s never seen Nicholas have a nightmare before; not when they’re this close, at least. Not since they’ve started to share beds with each other. His hand darts out, tempted to wake him, before he immediately grows unsure. He doesn’t want to startle him, but there’s something like a whimper that catches in Nicholas’s throat, the sound feeling like a knife levering under his ribs. His fingers twitch, his lips parting around the beginning syllable of his name before he stops himself, teeth clenching in debate.

But it doesn’t matter what he might have decided on because Wolfwood is gasping awake, his hand snapping out like the jaws of a snake, his fingers circling tightly around his wrist. Vash stops himself from startling, meeting wild coal dark eyes, ignoring the dangerous shift of his bones under his grasp. Nick’s teeth are bared as he pants, gaze unfocused and his shoulders trembling with tension. Vash lays still for several long moments, watching as he slowly comes back to himself, lashes flickering and chest heaving.

“Wolfwood?” He murmurs and Nicholas jumps, jerking back and taking his hand with him. He sits up with a lurch, and before Vash can think he’s reaching out, carefully grasping at his forearm to keep him from scrambling out of bed. Wolfwood looks down at his hand before his eyes dart back up towards him, and Vash has never seen him look afraid like that before.

He sucks in a long breath, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says quietly, fingers flexing over his bare arm, something inside of him warring on whether he should pull away or not. He swallows and allows his hand to stay until Nicholas decides to brush him off.

“Fuck.” Wolfwood hisses before he’s falling back the mattress, free hand coming up to rub at his face, resting his arm over his eyes as he turns into his elbow, “You didn’t do shit. I’m sorry for waking you, go back to sleep.”

Vash runs his knuckles over his tan skin, something he hopes is a soothing gesture. He doesn’t think he’s ever been very good at this. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Wolfwood looks over at him, arm moving to reveal one dark eye. “Idiot.” He grumbles, but he lets Vash continue to rub nonsensical patterns into his forearm, smoothing over his skin gently. His hands trails further down, thumbing over his scarred knuckles.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, watching Wolfwood’s mouth twist, his eyes hidden again.

“Just a dream. It doesn’t matter.” He mutters and Vash knows to drop it, that he’s not going to talk about, especially not tonight. So he only hums, tracing over old scars, fingers delicate over tawny skin as Nicholas’s breaths begin to even out. Nick’s skin is callused in most places, small nicks and scars catching on his soft finger pads.

“You’re warm.” Nick murmurs, his hand turning over so his palm is facing up. Vash places his thumb in the middle of it, circling over his skin, pressing into more rough calluses. He laces their fingers, heart stuttering in his chest, and Nicholas allows it. He breathes out slowly, shifting just slightly closer.

“‘S’nice.” He whispers and Vash smiles, aching with want, like a spool of thick honey in his gut.

He cradles Wolfwood’s hand between both palms and doesn’t say anything more.

#my fanfiction #this could be a lot longer I’m physically restraining myself #vashwood fanfic #vashwood #trigun #trigun stampede #vash #vash the stampede

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cataboliac · 2 years

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Refresh

fromis_9's Song Hayoung

10k words

“So, did you get enough sleep last night?”

“I barely got four hours in, and then nada—couldn’t sleep afterwards.” You stifle a yawn that escapes from your mouth.

Jaesung hands you a cup of freshly made espresso. Its sweet aroma coaxes your consciousness awake. You take the small porcelain and down the drink all in one shot. Contrary to its fragrance, however, an acidic and bitter taste travels down your throat. A warm buzz immediately spreads all over your body.

You stretch out your arms and legs, feeling the tension in your muscles. “Damn. Thanks, I really needed that.”

“No problem. Now that you mention it, you don’t look too good, like you haven’t slept for a month.”

It certainly feels like it—your head always feels like it’s being split into two, your eyelids drop like they’re tied down to anvils, and your movements are so sluggish you might as well have been frozen in carbonite.

You always seem to be on edge these days, always expecting something wrong to happen in an instant. You’ve been feeling a little uneasy—especially in your workspace—for some reason.

It’s a good thing you’re in Jaesung’s office; the privacy of his room helped calm you down. His office perfectly fits his persona as an HR counselor, with the plants hanging in front of the walls and motivational posters peppered around the room. They make the place a bit more homey, contrasting the mechanical design of your workplace.

“Have you started drawing again?” Jaesung asks.

You hesitate, tapping on the table a couple times—after a few minutes, you finally cave to Jaesung's stare. “Honestly, not yet. I haven’t fully adjusted to the new flow of things yet. And getting the proper amount of sleep. And—”

Jaesung interrupts your babbling. “I think you need a vacation,”

You raise an eyebrow. “Can you really just hand out vacation days like that?”

“Yes they do. Speaking as your best friend and your counselor, you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you to burn out too early in the game.”

That’s the feeling. Burnout.

Jaesung hit the nail on the head. This was very unexpected, especially after surviving the busier months of the year. Why now, out of all the times? When your budding architectural career’s starting to stabilize?

“Okay, point taken. But I don’t think we have time to have a vacation! I don’t even have enough vacation leaves yet!”

Jaesung smiles and shakes his head. He grabs his desk calendar and places it right in front of you—four days are encircled on the calendar, each marked with “long weekend!” scribbled in Jaesung’s chicken-scratch handwriting. “You don’t have to take a leave. Did you really forget about the long weekend?” .

The timing couldn’t be more impeccable, but what would you do? Where would you go? Staying at home is not an option due to the enormous backlog of paperwork floating about, and going back to Daegu isn’t an option either—it’d be too sudden, and you wouldn’t want to bother your parents this late. Everyone else likely has plans already, so most places would be fully booked.

Jaesung reaches for his wallet, brings out a card, and hands it out to you. “Here, I think you need this more than me. My family friends just opened up something recently. If you call now, they might still have something vacant for you.”

You trace the highly unorthodox name of the establishment written in light blue cursive letters. What interests you at first is that it’s outside the city, making it a relief to escape the stresses of this hectic city. But what really pulls you in is it’s a private hot springs rental house—which would mean even more relaxation awaits you at no expense to your privacy.

You bite your lip, a bit hesitant to take the offer. “Are you sure, Jae? It even has a discount if I show this card. I’m not sure I can take this.”

“It’s really no biggie, just take it! I already have plans with my wife anyways, we’re going back to her place in Busan.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Come back refreshed.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

It took some time to find the right bus since you've never passed this part of the station. As you climbed in the minibus, only four seats were occupied. Either it's rare for people to be from there, or this must be a tiny village.

All of this pre-planning and rushing have made you a bit nervous. You've never traveled alone like this, but as you settle down in one of the window seats, it finally sinks in that you're finally getting some rest. It's starting to feel like you're on some cliché soul-searching journey.

A couple minutes later, the bus driver enters. He walks down the aisle while scribbling down on his notepad, doing the final inspection before going back to his seat.

“Good afternoon everyone, we are set to depart for Yeumteo Village in Andong. Let’s have a safe trip.”

People must be scrambling for the holiday—the bumper-to-bumper traffic in the city was so bad it took an hour to get out.

Soon enough, the cars cleared out, and the sprawling buildings of Seoul faded away in the background, replaced by spacious green pastures and winding roads that endlessly stretched out. You watch as the dazzling sun slowly sets behind the expansive mountain ranges—it has been ages since you've seen the sunset, so you hope it was a sign of a fresh start.

The slight rocking of the bus and the cold air conditioning were making it hard to stay awake; your eyes were getting heavy.

You lean onto the seat cushion, and your eyes shut…

——————————————————————————————————————————

A hand shakes your shoulder, coaxing you from your quick nap.

“Excuse me, sir. We’ve arrived.”

It’s hard to open your eyes due to the sharp headache. You shake your head to try and get some relief—it doesn't really work, but it does set off a yawning thank you to the bus driver, who just chuckles before he walks away from you. You rub your eyes open before you stretch and let out another yawn.

Your eyes slowly adjust to the dim lighting of the bus. You move the curtain and look outside. You’re surprised to see that the sky is now pitch-dark, the road only illuminated by the surrounding streetlights—it’s probably going to be harder to find your place for the stay. You stand up, grab your things, and thank the driver again as you pass by him.

Stepping foot onto the road, you're greeted by the cold embrace of the wind, the chirping of the crickets in your ears, and the freshness of petrichor entering your nostrils.

The directions were straightforward, but it would take a couple minutes to find the place. Walking down the road felt unnerving, only guided by some lampposts, but the symphony of crickets accompanying you was strangely comforting.

You see a gated traditional Korean house in the distance that fits the description. A sign hangs on the side of the wall, the familiar cursive letters confirming your thoughts.

“‘My Little Springs.’ I guess it’s a cute name,” you say out loud. You take a deep breath before approaching the big wooden door. There seems to be no doorbell, so you use the heavy door knocker, knocking thrice with the metal knob.

It takes a moment before you hear some shuffling behind the door. A large metal clang is heard, and the door opens up. An elderly woman pops up from behind.

“Oh, hello! Are you Jaesung’s friend?” Her voice is soothing, reminding you of your own grandmother.

“Yes, I am. I’m so sorry for being late. The traffic was heavy getting out of the city, ” you apologize while bowing down to her.

“Oh, don’t be. I’m just glad to see you safe and sound. Let me grab your things, sweetie. You must be exhausted.”

You’re certainly not letting the sweet old lady carry your heavy bags. You quickly snap up from your bow. “Oh it’s no problem, let me! They’re a bit heavy anyways.”

She smiles, then gestures with her arm. “Well, please come in then. Let’s get you settled down. You can call me Daeun.”

You enter the gate. As you step onto the stone path, your jaw drops at the spectacular design of the place. The majestic fir tree stands tall in the middle of the garden, paper lanterns lining its branches. The ground is filled with rich green grass, contrasting the navy blue finish of the rooftop and the white painting on the walls.

“We’ve had this place for generations, lucky enough we had the hot springs to help maintain our costs.”

The two of you enter a long narrow hallway. Daeun opens the first sliding door to your right. “This is your room. I’ll be in the dining area. It’s the last door straight down this hallway. Come by when you're ready.”

You bow and thank Daeun, then enter your room. After removing your shoes, you realize how sore your feet are when your toes curl from the warmth of the heated wooden floor. You release a sigh of relief; it's only starting to sink in that this is the start of your anxiety-free vacation, even if it is just for a few days.

After placing your bags by the entrance, you take in the setup of your room. The wall nearest your bed is adorned with lifelike cherry blossom decor. You trace the realistic branches with your fingers, and to your surprise, it’s handpainted. A small tea table is in the middle of the room with cushions to sit on. The futon looks very enticing to sleep on, its fluffy blanket already calling you to its embrace.

You’d have loved to lie down if it weren’t for your stomach growling loudly. You’ll just have to fix your things later. For now, it is finally time for some dinner. You exit your room and follow the way down the hallway.

You slide open the door, and you’re greeted by the aroma of freshly grilled fish and a mix of spices. The dining room had a view of the garden, adding to the cozy ambiance of the resort. The wide tea table in the middle is set up with four cushions, but only one tray set was placed.

“Ah, you’re just in time.”

You turn your head to see Daeun come out from another sliding door, holding up two trays of food. You walk over to her to grab hold of one of the trays. “Let me help carry mine for you, ma’am.”

“You’re too kind. Thank you, dearie. And no formalities here, please. Just call me Daeun.”

You help Daeun prepare the table, setting down the plates of grilled mackerel, bowls of kimchi rice, and some assorted pickled vegetables. The two of you settle down at the dining table.

“Thank you so much for the food!” You pick apart the fish with your chopsticks—the meat falls off effortlessly, some steam rising from the inside. It looks absolutely delicious; you can’t wait to dig in.

“It’s no problem. I hope you enjoy it.”

Before digging in, you notice there’s an empty seat beside you. "Is your husband joining us?"

“Oh, no, he’s already in our room, fast asleep. That’s for my granddaughter. She’ll be coming in a bit late tonight. She’s staying in the room right beside you.

“Now, tell me all about yourself. Jaesung says he’s quite fond of you.”

You try your best to describe yourself to Daeun. The two of you discuss your love of drawing and how it brought you onto your course as a budding architect in an up-and-coming firm. Daeun listens to you intently. She even reveals small tidbits of Jaesung’s younger self, making you laugh with a story about how she found him in the backyard using her mortar and pestle on flowers to create colors.

The conversation dies down a bit, allowing you to finish your food. As you swallow the last morsel of your food, a tiny burp escapes your lips. You smile bashfully, bowing in apology for your manners; the food was just too good!

“You must have been hungry. I’ll take that as a compliment,” Daeun says, who chuckles afterward.

Suddenly you hear footsteps from the hallway. The sliding doors jitter open, and you feel your heart skip a beat to the cutest girl you’ve ever seen in your life.

This petite angel has graced your eyes with her presence—milky skin, adorable pointy nose, oversized glasses that bring out her wide cat-like eyes. Her cheeks must be the fluffiest things that have ever puffed up. One gaze from this girl could melt even the coldest of hearts. You were a moth drawn to her glow.

The girl approaches Daeun and embraces her tightly. “Hayoung, dearie! I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

Hayoung. What a very adorable name.

Hayoung then turns to you, slightly shocked at your presence. Hayoung quickly recomposes herself to give you a sheepish smile. “Oh, the guest Jaesung-oppa has told us about! Hello!”

You shake off your initial surprise to form some words. “Hello. You have a lovely place here.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly nervous, the thumping of your heart making it harder to focus.

“Thank you! We tried our best to set the place up for you. If you need anything else, just tell me,” Hayoung says as she winks at you playfully. Your face develops a tiny blush, reeling from the absolute cuteness of this girl.

“How long will you be here, Oppa?”

“Three days. I’ll be leaving by Sunday.”

“That soon? I’m staying here for two weeks! Anyways, if you need a guide, I can show you the best spots around here!”

“That sounds fun.” A yawn almost slips out of you, but you stifle it. “I think I’ll head off to bed. Sorry for not waiting for you, Hayoung.”

“It’s okay! You must be tired from your trip. Here, let me help you up.”

Hayoung offers her hand to you, and you grasp it. She pulls you up a bit too fast, and you almost stumble into her. Instinctively you grab onto her shoulders and place a foot forward to break your momentum.

“O-oh, sorry about that.” Hayoung’s fluffy cheeks are dabbed with a light blush. You quickly realize the close proximity and release your hold on her, feeling your own cheeks heat up.

“N-no problem at all! Um, yeah. I’ll get going. T-thank you for the meal!” You quickly bow to the two of them before exiting the dining room and heading straight into your room.

As you close the screen door, you mentally scream at yourself. Hayoung looked so pretty up close as she looked up with those eyes. She had a hint of blueberry perfume on her too.

Why did you have to be so awkward?

Wait, you just met her, don’t think these thoughts.

You slap your cheeks. Hopefully, it won’t be awkward with Hayoung tomorrow when you see her again.

After calming down, you arrange your belongings from your bag into the cabinets. You take a quick shower and settle down on your bed.

Your thoughts revolve around the prospect of four days here—hopefully it can bring you back up to speed. The warm blanket weighs down on your body, encouraging you to sleep and just let go of your worries. As your head touches the pillow, you are pulled into dreamland.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Your eyes jolt open at the blaring sound of your cell phone alarm. You were so excited that you forgot to turn it off for the holidays. One tap on the screen silences the annoying disturbance to your sleep. Checking your alarm, you see it is still set to six a.m. It's been a while since you have slept for nine hours straight, but you still feel slightly tired.

Knowing that you can’t fall asleep again, you decide to start the day by freshening up. After changing into comfortable shorts and a tank top, you head outside.

The chilly morning breeze awakens your senses further. With the sun starting to rise, you have a better view of the stunning resort; the colors of the surroundings around you are saturated in the rays of light that begin to peek over the walls.

On your way to get breakfast, you notice a lone figure by the tree. At first you simply just pass by and continue on with your day, but eventually your curiosity gets the better of you.

Moving closer, you realize it's Hayoung in a yoga pose—she is lunging to the side, one arm raised forward while the other pointing at the opposite end. Her eyes are closed, making you hesitate to approach her.

You decide to slowly walk closer to her so as to avoid startling her—a few steps in, however, she opens her eyes and smiles when she recognizes you. “Good morning, Oppa! Did you sleep well?”

“Morning. Yeah, I—”—a big yawn interrupts your train of thought—“well, I thought I did. Still a bit sleepy, it seems.”

Hayoung giggles at you. “Maybe you just need a warm-up. Have you ever done yoga before?”

“I don’t think I have.”

“I can teach you! Care to join me?”

As you ponder her offer, you cannot help but ogle at Hayoung now that you are alone with her. Who knew that under that adorable face was a killer body, her sports bra showing off the shape of her sizable bust, tight-fitting joggers holding onto her pleasingly-shaped legs and butt. Her outfit exposed even more of her porcelain skin, making it very enticing to touch. And that smile, that beautiful smile that could wash away a thousand doubts to light up a room, made her even more sublime.

“Are you still with me, sleepyhead?” Hayoung’s singsong voice anchors you back from your daydreaming. She waves her hand in front of you, smiling mischievously and wriggling her eyebrows as if reading your not-so-pure thoughts.

Your cheeks instantly flush red, your neurons scramble overtime for a quick response. “Um, yeah! Sure, why not.” Smooth recovery, you gawking idiot.

“Just follow me then, and I’ll guide you.” Hayoung lays down an extra yoga mat for you in front of her. You remove your shoes and step on the rubber.

“Remember, after copying me, just close your eyes and listen to my voice. Try to also get an overall ‘feel’ of your surroundings.”

She starts off with a simple pose by raising both arms up, and you follow suit. You close your eyes, and Hayoung instructs you when to breathe in and out.

Admittedly it feels ridiculous at first, but as time passes, you notice that each breath flows out smoothly, and slowly the heavy haze in your head starts to clear out.

It feels like an eternity passes before Hayoung tells you to switch poses.

She has you lunge forward—your thighs slowly loosen up at the much-needed stretch.

The burning sensation in your thighs is strangely relaxing.

Then she has you prone on the mat. As you lift up your chest from the ground, you realize how stiff your back and abdomen were, feeling the burn at body parts you didn’t know you could feel.

Soon enough, it is as if a big knot slowly unravels. All the tension dissipates, and a feeling of warmth spreads throughout your body.

Hayoung finally ends the session with a simple sitting position, with both your legs crossed in front of you.

The chirping of the birds, the blowing of the wind, the rustling of the leaves—it feels you're finally at peace.

“You can open your eyes now.”

It feels like you’ve taken the best nap of your entire life.

You feel somewhat sweaty, but it surprisingly doesn’t feel uncomfortable—the dampness helps cool down your body.

A grin forms on your lips as you enjoy your newfound wakefulness.

“Wow.” It’s the only word you can sum up your feelings with.

“How was it?”

“That was pretty amazing! I feel more energized now.”

Hayoung beams at the result of your session with her. “Glad I could help. You can join me every morning if you’d like. Now let’s go! It’s breakfast!”

You quickly check your watch, and you’re shocked to see it’s already seven a.m. Before you could even react, Hayoung pulls you up from the ground and whisks you away to the dining area.

—————————————————————————————————————————

After a hearty breakfast, you return to your room to work on your sketchpad. You promised yourself not to bring anything work-related, but you wanted to check if there was any improvement while being on vacation.

An hour in, you were able to recreate part of the building you worked in, though you think something was lacking. Maybe it’s the depth of the shading, the lack of it—whatever it was, it’s very frustrating.

A knock on your door gets your attention.

You slide it open to reveal Hayoung.

Her off-shoulder dress shows more of her porcelain complexion and her slender neck. Although it’s a simple dress, it tapers at her waist and flares out at the hips, enhancing Hayoung’s feminine form—

“Hey, want to go to the village with me? We can have lunch there too!”

The walk to the village was pleasantly balmy, with groups of nimbus clouds scattered across the clear blue sky, which somewhat matches the busy day down below, with people lined up along the small markets that branched out from the main roads and vendors that barked out to passersby to peruse their freshly-made treats or handmade goodies.

As you walk further in, the more modern entryway eventually turns into something that starts to resemble the inn. Most of the houses here now looked like they were transported from the eighties—you would have stopped to wonder how they preserved the old-fashioned architecture, but Hayoung’s enthusiasm is infectious as you watch her point out the notable landmarks around the area.

It must look ridiculous, how a tiny girl is hauling you around.

You would have loved a more leisurely pace to take in the scenery, but the energetic girl dragging you by the wrist keeps you from focusing on one thing at a time. It’s a waste, after all, to not lo—

Hayoung pauses your lightspeed excursion in time for lunch. She leads you to an empty table outside a busy eatery.

The place is so jam-packed that you are surprised so many people can fit in a small restaurant. You notice the waiter is an elderly woman, the only one waiting at the tables. You are a bit worried for her, but she's managing well by herself as she flies through the rows of tables. She eventually approaches your table.

“Hanyang! You’re blossoming by the year!” the woman says to Hayoung.

“Sooyoung! A trip home isn’t complete without your cooking.”

“You bet! Are you going to get the usual order for you and your boyfriend here?” Sooyoung says as she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

You think you’re already blushing hard, but Hayoung’s round cheeks are redder than beet. Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to formulate words. “Sooyoung!” Hayoung cries out.

Sooyoung chuckles at your reactions. “Look at you two, I’m just joking! Anyways, what are your orders?”

She takes your orders from Hayoung, then returns to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that, Oppa. She’s just teasing,” Hayoung says, giving you the same sheepish smile she flashed during your first night meeting her.

She quickly changes the subject. “So Oppa, how do you like our little village?” Hayoung leans forward, her palms on her chin, waiting eagerly for your response.

“It’s a good break away from the city. I’m assuming you grew up here?”

“Yup! It’s been a while since I've come home though. I’ve been busy back in Seoul.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“Well, as of now, I just got my yoga instructor’s license. I plan to teach yoga on the side while looking for a better job that could help out the resort.

“How about you, Oppa? Why did you go here?”

You retell your story to Hayoung. It usually takes some effort to express the recent frustrations about your job—especially anything to do with admitting to your artist's block—but with Hayoung, it feels natural just talking to her like this.

It might be how she attentively nods her head as you vent your frustrations, her eye contact with you, or how she lets you finish your thoughts—it feels like someone is actually listening for the first time.

“Well Oppa, that’s what the resort is for! You’ll get back on your feet in no time,” Hayoung says gleefully.

There it is again.

You do not know what it is, but something about Hayoung's smile is so enchanting that you are already sure you can never get tired of it. The way her cheeky smile reaches to her ears and makes her eyes squint is very encouraging, like the sun rising in the cerulean sky.

The lady returns with two plates of steamed chicken drizzled with a brown sauce that smells tangy and spicy. Your mouth waters from anticipation. The two of you say your thanks and start to eat your food in a comfortable silence. A couple bites in, and your tongue is greeted with spicy heaven, the spices dancing on your taste buds.

It takes a big gulp of your milk tea to quell the spiciness. As the heat on your tongue dissipates, you take a quick break from the eating.

You watch Hayoung wolf down her food as if she was starved for days, seemingly unaffected by the spice level. Her voracious appetite is impressive in many ways for such a tiny person—it must be why she’s always so energetic.

Admittingly, the enjoyment on her face makes her more adorable and adds more charm to her already precious personality. Hayoung just seems so carefree—

Hayoung waves a hand in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts. “Did you hear what I said, Oppa? Do I have something on my face?!”

You were so busy daydreaming that you didn’t notice she was still talking. “No, no. A funny thought just came into my mind. Sorry, you were saying?”

She pouts a bit, yet the guilt-tripping effect is undercut by her smiling afterwards. “I was saying that tomorrow we can go to the nearby river for lunch. Do you want to go there?”

“Sure, why not? With you as my guide, it’s always going to be an adventure!” you exclaim a bit too loudly—some people turn their heads in your direction. You blush from your sudden declaration—Hayoung’s enthusiasm must be rubbing off on you.

Hayoung smiles widely at you—it could be a trick of the light, but you think you notice a blush developing on her cheeks. “Anyways, let’s go! We aren’t done exploring the town!” Hayoung leaves money on the table before she once again whisks you up and begins the second part of your tour.

—————————————————————————————————————————

You finally meet Hayoung’s grandfather, Beomjin, as you enter the dining room for dinner. He greets you with a smile and nods at you. You notice he is a man of few words, letting Daeun and Hayoung do the talking for him throughout dinner.

Once you finish eating, you decide to leave dinner a bit early to try out the hot springs, assuming no one would be at the bath at this time. You leave your clothes in the room and walk around the resort draped in just a towel.

As you swing the door open, a wave of heat washes over you. Stepping onto the stone flooring, you leisurely scan the warm room. It's a simple layout, with the hot springs in the middle and the rinsing showers to the side. Ornamental rocks line the edges of the hot springs, with a small waterfall flowing between them.

It's a relaxing sight; you already feel at peace with just the atmosphere.

You see a makeshift towel rack and quickly hang your towel. As you approach the hot spring, you can’t wait to feel the heat of the spring waters. Dipping your big toe in first, you hum at the comfortable warmth. Satisfied with the temperature, you slowly submerge yourself into the water.

The heat of the hot spring is soothing, a prickling sensation developing in your hands and feet. You lean onto the edge of the hot springs and allow your body to float up by the surface.

“Now this, this is relaxation.”

You could just sleep here if you wanted to at this point.

A calming melody starts playing from a distance. You’re amazed that the hot springs had speakers for some calming music to be played for its patrons. A silvery voice joins the instrumental, adding to the comforting ambiance.

After a couple moments, however, the music stops abruptly.

It doesn’t come back.

Wondering what happened to the sound, you take a peek of your surroundings—

Your eyes shoot wide open at Hayoung, draped in a towel, her phone in hand. Said phone is faintly playing the song you heard a while ago.

The two of you stare at each other like deer caught in headlights.

The eye contact with her is absolutely petrifying. A single move could mean the simplest misunderstanding.

You follow her line of sight to see she’s that she’s… staring at—

“Ahhhhh!” The two scream at the top of your lungs.

You quickly submerge your lower half underwater while Hayoung covers her eyes and keeps her head down.

Your cheeks continue to flush redder than a tomato. “W-w-w-what are you doing here?!”

“H-h-h-how was I supposed to know you were in here?! You didn’t leave the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign up!” Hayoung retorts, refusing to look at you, one hand over her eyes and the other gripping tightly onto her towel.

“Okay, just keep your eyes closed, and I’ll just get out of here.”

You immediately rise from the water, wrap yourself up with your towel, and briskly walk towards the exit—

As you close the hot springs’ door, you see a small diamond-shaped sign that reads “Do Not Disturb” hanging on the screen door.

You sigh out loud, shaking your head in embarrassment.

You continue your hasty retreat back to your room, hoping all the while that you wouldn’t run into the older owners of the resort—fortunately, you don’t bump into anyone else.

Of all the naked mishaps to happen, though…

How was I supposed to know about that stupid sign?

You enter your room and plop onto the bed. Grabbing the pillow, you muzzle your screams, venting your frustrations into it. You can't get rid of the image of Hayoung—with her shocked face in nothing but a towel covering her—staring at your naked lower half.

After a couple moments of contemplation, you check your watch to see it's time to get ready for bed. You decide there is no point in dwelling on this mistake.

After getting dressed and brushing your teeth, you quickly bury yourself under your blanket.

All you can do for now is just sleep and wait for tomorrow. Tired from overthinking about what will happen, you close your eyes and quickly fall asleep.

__________________________________________________________________________

The morning after for the two of you wasn't awkward.

Hayoung greeted you ordinarily, though maybe there was a slight blush when she did. You decide not to address last night's mishap if she isn't going to bring it up first. It’s your last full day here—you didn’t want to end on such a weird note.

The yoga session was a bit more difficult this time, but you still had loads of fun. You note down to buy a yoga mat once you get home. You pack some essentials for the picnic you'll have with Hayoung. Just in case, you brought along your sketchpad—maybe something will strike your inspiration again.

Now that you're dressed for the trek, you exit your room to look for Hayoung. You spot her outside by the tree, holding onto the picnic basket. She decided to stick to the yoga attire.

"Come on, sleepyhead! We don't have all day!" She drags you out of the resort and onto a trail that leads to the forest.

It’s very humid today; it doesn’t help that the glowing sun is bearing down on you, especially on a trek like this. It takes a couple moments before you reach the forest, the entrance lined with trees that stretch out endlessly at all sides.

As you step into the forest, countless branches hang over you, giving the trail some shade from the overbearing sun. Some beams of light pass through the cracks of their formation. It feels like you've entered an entirely different world.

Stepping further inside, the smell of morning dew enters your nostrils. The trail is lined by a multitude of trees, their roots overlapping with each other.

Despite the many natural wonders the forest has, you’ve decided to focus on another worldly marvel—with Hayoung walking in front of you, you try your best not to stare at the enticing view of Hayoung’s backside. The joggers she wears outline the shape of her firm butt.

You try to focus on other things before you get too distracted on the task at hand.

A peep returns you from your pointed stare of her hips.

Hayoung struggles to hold up the picnic basket, her arm slightly shaking. You wanted her to have a relaxing time too, so with your newfound sense of confidence, you pick up the pace, reach out for the basket, and grab it out of her hands. She’s about to protest, but you replace the empty space in her hand with yours, your fingers intertwining with hers. Her palm is soft and warm, fitting in yours like a missing puzzle piece.

You squeeze her hand reassuringly, trying to ignore the beating of your heart.

“Um, let me help you with this. You’ve done a lot for me lately.”

Hayoung only nods—she’s clearly trying to hide the blush on her face by looking straight ahead.

The two of you walk side by side now, enjoying the sounds of the forest—the crunching of the leaves, the buzzing of insects, the chirping of the birds.

The sound of rushing water signals that you’ve reached your destination.

As the two of you leave the forest behind, you enter a clearing. You realize you’re in a riverside meadow, the rich cerulean blue seeping out into the horizon. The reflection of the sprawling mountainscape on the river looks absolutely majestic.

This doesn't seem real, like walking into something you see on a postcard. "How did you find this place?" you ask as you help spread out the plaid picnic cloth, and Hayoung distributes the packed lunches Daeun cooked for the trip.

“We used to go here a lot as a family.” Hayoung keeps her head down as she fixes up the cutlery and plastic cups. “Now that everyone is busy, and Grandma and Grandpa can’t make the trip, I wanted to share this place with someone.”

It’s touching to hear her sincerity, so you can’t help but smile at her words.

Turning to Hayoung, you watch as her hair blows slightly in the wind, the rosiness of her cheeks evident.

You look towards the horizon to hide your own red cheeks.

“A-anyways, I’m glad you like the place. Let’s go eat!”

You start digging in. Daeun’s mackerel meal hits the spot again. After your last bite, you look up to Hayoung looking out into the open. You follow her line of sight and are amazed at the spectacular view—how the sky contrasts the mountains and the river, the fiery sun with its orange blaze, and even the tiny waves that ripple against the wind. It gives you a quick hint of inspiration to draw something.

You plan out the image in your head, trying your best to imagine how it will look on paper. The grass of the meadows, the trees of the woods, the water of the river—you hate to simplify the majestic likeness, but you couldn't jot down every detail. You start with the background, outlining the ridge of mountains. Then you move to the foreground, adding the small waves in the water and taking into account the right amount of slant for the wind direction.

You pause to check your progress. Although it’s an improvement from yesterday’s attempt, it’s still lacking something—

Before you could react, Hayoung smudges part of the foreground.

You would have felt annoyed, but you notice how the water has a more liquidy feel to it now. It actually fits the sketch now that you recheck everything.

You look back at Hayoung, astonished at her doing.

How did she know how to do that?

As if reading your mind, she winks back at you. “For a sleepyhead, you think a lot,” she says before she sticks her tongue out teasingly.

Hayoung stands up and suddenly pulls her pants down, revealing her blue swimwear. Your jaw drops, and you can’t help but stare at her athletic form—lean thighs, well-shaped legs, firm butt.

She runs towards the river and jumps right into the water, a big splash engulfing her.

“What are you waiting for? The water feels great!” she calls out for you once she resurfaces.

Thinking has done you no good recently, only adding more questions to the fray. Maybe you should start following your gut more and just see where it goes.

The decision has been made. You stand up and remove your shirt, and rush towards Hayoung.

"Cannonball!"

The water makes you shiver, numbing your body and taking your breath away. It feels delightful on your skin. You go up for air, and as you wipe your eyes clear, you're splashed in the face by Hayoung.

“Whoops.” She smiles at you mischievously.

If it’s a water fight she wants, it’s a water fight she gets.

You retaliate by splashing her with as much water as you can gather in your hands. Hayoung submerges underwater, the water barely missing her. She resurfaces behind you moments later, showering you. Turning around, she disappears once again. The element of surprise is with her, but you’re not going to let it be her advantage. You turn to your side in anticipation, ready to pounce.

You scoop up Hayoung by the waist as soon as she rises up.

“Got you!”

She squeals, surprised that you’ve predicted her movements underwater. Hayoung heats you up as she presses her body firmly against you. “I guess you did, Oppa.”

You stare into those wide eyes.

Hayoung pulls you into an embrace, her legs wrapping around yours for additional support. “Are you still with me, sleepyhead?” She cups your chin, softly caressing you with her hand.

You wrap your arms securely around her. Hayoung shivers in your hold. “I’m definitely wide awake. But I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“I think I can do something to wake you up,” she whispers.

Hayoung closes her eyes and kisses you on the cheek. The silky touch of her kiss warms you up even more. She tenderly lines up more kisses, inching closer and closer to your lips. Every smooch is gentle and delicate, like soft paintbrush strokes. After she reaches the corner of your mouth, Hayoung pulls back, her face inches before you.

Nothing could ever prepare you for this moment. You’ve seen this in the movies, read this in the books, but you never imagined you had what it takes to reach this point. Yet here you are, the moment of truth arriving in the form of Hayoung, her inviting lips awaiting your answer.

A wave of courage washes over, and you urge every fiber of your being you commit to what your heart and soul were screaming out to do.

Kiss her.

“Maybe I want to keep dreaming.”

Before she can respond, your eyes flutter to a close, and you press your lips against hers.

The blazing sun is setting, its orange glaze melting into the horizon. As the sky swirls in a blend of colors, you and Hayoung sink into each other’s embrace. Warmth blossoms in your chest, igniting sparks as you lean in closer, lips brushing together, tentatively, for the first time. The smell of her fragrance, the soft, cherry scent of her shampoo, was dizzying, butterflies dancing in your stomach. You were floating, caught in this wave of your emotions.

The two of you break the kiss for some air. Unable to contain the excitement coursing through you, an enormous smile forms on your face. Hayoung leans onto your forehead, her nose brushing up against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while, basking in the cold embrace of the waters.

——————————————————————————————————————————

As you float in the hot springs, your thoughts revolve around Hayoung. You’re not sure what would happen at the end of the trip—everything is happening pretty fast between the two of you.

Is this a one-time thing? What happens after you leave?

Thoughts like these sour the mood. It’s best to just worry about these later.

The timer on your phone sounds off—bath time’s over.

Whatever. You were starting to get light-headed anyway.

After silencing the timer, you head straight for the showers to rinse off.

You sit down on the wooden stool. You’re about to scrub yourself down, but the door opens from behind.

I thought I put up the “Do Not Disturb” sign.

You want to turn to see who it is, but you freeze up as you feel arms snaking around your torso.

“Hey,” Hayoung says softly. She tightens her embrace, and you feel more than just her arms, her naked form pressed against your back. Her erect nipples poke you from behind, her velvety skin caresses your body. Your rod starts to stiffen from the sensation..

She perches her chin on your shoulder.

“H-Hayoung, what are you doing here?”

She answers by grabbing the soap by your feet, lathering her hands, and scrubbing your shoulders. Hayoung massages a deep knot on your right shoulder, and you can’t help but groan in satisfaction. You lean more into her hands, groaning more audibly. “Shhh. Just relax and let me do the rest.”

Her hands continue to knead your tight shoulders. You're like putty in her hands, the tension from your deep-seated knots melting away. She then starts to explore your body, kneading it as she goes lower.

“I just wanted to spend a bit more time with you. Is this okay?”

“Y-yeah. This is okay.” With things starting to heat up, you do your best to push away the nerves—you want to spend every remaining second here with her too.

She reaches over for the showerhead and starts to rinse you. “Since it’s your last night, I want to do something special for you tonight.”

Hayoung’s hands glide down to your thighs, and suddenly she caresses your engorged rod. It twitches at her touch.

“Damn it—sorry. It’s just... What you're doing feels great.” You can’t form any more words, too shocked to move or process this all.

There’s a moment of silence before Hayoung decides to break it.

“Do you want me to relieve you of this?” she whispers.

You never thought you’d hear those words come out of her mouth.

You’ve learned from this trip that you’ve been overthinking every small step. Especially at work, you've been pushing yourself too hard, going against the current.

It’s time to go with the flow, to let go and enjoy the moment.

“Okay.”

Hayoung comes around and kneels in front of you. You have a better look at her bare body—a firm pair of breasts, light brown nipples already erect; a chiseled abdomen, most likely her hard work as a yoga instructor; and hair neatly trimmed around her nether regions.

Her eyes widen when she sees your stiffened length. You notice Hayoung’s cheeks slowly turn a rosy red. She inhales deeply before lathering both of her hands with soap and grasping your shaft. “I’ll start, Oppa, okay?”

She pumps you slowly with both hands, and you can’t help but moan loudly. You feel every bit of those dainty hands along your length as Hayoung gives the right amount of pressure. It’s so pleasurable that you grasp the sides of the stool, close your eyes, and concentrate on breathing—anything to make you last longer.

One of her hands let go to massage your balls. You open your eyes to see Hayoung looking back at you with those eyes, her steely gaze freezing you. The sight of this adorable girl jerking you off almost makes you go mad.

She speeds up the tempo. Hayoung moves to your neck, kissing up and down to try and find a sensitive spot. You can't contain the moans that escape your throat, your pleasure skyrocketing as she sucks on your neck lightly.

Your rod feels pulsing hot. A familiar tight sensation develops around your lower body. Your breathing gets really ragged. “Hayoung, I-I’m close.”

Hayoung separates from your neck with a smack. She lowers her face at the level of your cock. Then she suddenly licks your head at the exact interval as she pumps you. The sudden sensation of her tongue licking your cock overwhelms you and sends you tumbling over the edge. Hayoung continues to suck on your head for good measure as you unload your hot, white cum in her mouth. You can feel Hayoung slurp your cock up, trying to swallow your semen, not wasting a single drop.

You definitely feel light-headed now; all the blood rushing towards your lower head made you start to see stars. Looking down at Hayoung, you watch as she swallows your load. She opens her mouth to show that nothing was wasted. “Wow. Hayoung, what was that?” you ask. You feel you’re about to pass out.

She rises up and kisses you on your cheek. “A little thank you. For everything.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

It's been hours, and you can’t fall asleep. Twisting and turning in bed, no matter how long you close your eyes, your restless mind will not allow you to enter dreamland. It is hard to believe that three days have gone so fast. Feels like you're an entirely changed person. Maybe it feels this way because you haven't felt this well rested in ages, or part of you got attached to the humble village...

Or, maybe, you've grown fond of a certain hyper village girl.

You sit up from your bed. You check the time—it’s almost twelve a.m. Your mind can’t get rid of Hayoung. The only solution you could think of is to visit the room next door.

Every little noise becomes louder at night—the jittering of the sliding door, your shaky breaths, your footsteps as you walk across the wooden floorboards—especially when you’re sneaking around.

It only takes a few steps to her room, but every step feels heavy.

A small dim light shines behind the door. Is she also awake?

You knock on the door to be sure.

“Who’s there?” Hayoung’s soft voice greets you.

You sigh in relief. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

A couple of thuds are heard in the room before the door slides open. Hayoung is dressed in her pajamas, her hands slightly painted in various shades of pink. “Are you okay?” She stands back, allowing you to enter her room.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just couldn’t sleep.”

As you step into her room, you notice it is almost the same layout as yours, apart from the grander cherry blossom decor and the numerous other tree paintings that line the walls. It reminds you of your first time stepping into the forest. You're amazed at the intricate details of each tree—different art styles, distinct sizes, and differently colored bark; Hayoung painted them each with a unique personality in mind.

Hayoung sits down on her bed. She taps the empty space next to her. "I couldn't sleep either, so I started to paint again." Hayoung closes the caps of her paint bottles, pushing them to the side.

“You never told me you paint. You’re amazing at it,” you say as you help Hayoung put away the other art materials.

She wipes her hands with a cloth, tossing it away to a random corner. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve painted like this. I only add to the tree if something memorable happens.” Hayoung traces the newly painted branch with her fingers.

“What’s something memorable recently?” you ask.

She suddenly holds your hands.

“Do I really need to say it?”

Her hands squeeze your hands. Hayoung’s cheeks are flushed red, and she's trying her best not to make eye contact with you.

She kisses you on the cheek.

“You.”

Hayoung’s confession almost sends your heart into cardiac arrest. She squeezes your hands, reassuring you this isn't a dream.

Despite the short time with Hayoung, you cannot deny the connection you felt with her. She was the fresh breath of air you needed on this trip.

“Say something! You just don’t leave a girl hanging after all of that,” Hayoung stammers out, finally looking into your eyes.

The dim lights that surround you in the room act like stars peppered on a clear night sky as they await your next move, but you know why you entered her room—you want to make this night memorable with her.

Your response to Hayoung is pressing your lips onto hers. She is surprised at first, but she returns the kiss, her arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer to her. Her lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. This kiss was different—a sense of urgency, need.

She pulls you down slowly to the bed with her. You’re careful not to crush Hayoung under your weight, placing your arms by her sides. Anxiousness, doubts, and worries are washed away as her soft lips draw more passion from you. Her arms and legs entangle around your body and pull you deeper into her embrace. The warmth of her body radiates under yours, Hayoung flooding your senses to the brim.

Your hand gains a mind of its own and enters the side of her shirt. Her silky skin is warm, and Hayoung purrs at your cold hands’ touch as they start to move around her torso. You brush along her abs, tracing random shapes, feeling her shiver. Gaining more confidence, your hand glides steadily over her porcelain skin towards her breasts. As you gently squeeze her mounds, Hayoung mewls into your mouth and kisses you with even more fervor.

Hayoung breaks the kiss to remove her shirt and throws it elsewhere, revealing her round, supple breasts. You’re surprised how much of a handful they were, well-hidden under her clothing and stature.

“Oppa, stop staring. It’s embarrassing,” she softly says. Hayoung looks to the side to hide her blush.

“I can’t help it, you look amazing.”

You decide to let your actions continue the talking. You lean in and capture a stiff bud in your mouth, lightly sucking on it. A freehand cups the other breast, slightly pinching the other nipple. Hayoung moans loudly into the room, her fingers carding through your hair. Hayoung is putty in your hands, moaning and shivering from your ministrations.

After giving enough attention to her upper body, your hand drifts down to the hem of her pajama pants. Hayoung twitches when she feels your fingers brush her thigh. You break the kiss and then tug onto the hem of her pants. “Can I?” you ask, looking into her eyes, waiting for her permission.

Hayoung pecks you on the lips and smiles. She then grabs your hand and carefully guides it under the fabric. As your fingers graze the entrance of her core, Hayoung trembles, releasing a shaky breath. You’re surprised to feel that she is already dripping wet. Her hand guides yours in a circular pattern, helping you rub her down and teaching you her most sensitive parts. You watch as her eyes roll up, then focus back onto you. “Right there, keep doing that,” she says, nodding and encouraging you to move faster.

You do just that, increasing the tempo of your ministrations on her slit. Hayoung arches her back as she grinds herself onto your hand. She starts to whimper, her breathing more ragged. You decide to up the ante by inserting two fingers inside her—Hayoung's tight walls barely accommodate the new inclusion. She moans—almost screams—but you're quick to stifle her mouth with your lips.

Her arms wrap around your neck, tightening their grip. With one last curl of your fingers against her most sensitive spot, Hayoung succumbs to her climax. Her cry echoes into your mouth. Hayoung’s walls squelch around your fingers, her nectar coating your hand. She shakes so hard that she lets go of you, overstimulated with pleasure. Removing your fingers from her, you return to the slower rhythm of rubbing her down as you kiss up and down her neck to try and bring her down from her high.

You pull Hayoung into a hug, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You both stay like this for a while as Hayoung relaxes in your arms.

Her hands then grasp your cheeks, bringing you to her face and holding you in place. Hayoung’s intense gaze brought goosebumps to your skin.

“Oppa, I think I’m ready.”

You nod in return, pulling back from her grasp. You quickly divest yourself of your clothes, throwing them to God-knows-where. She raises her legs, and you assist in peeling off her pajamas—the final barrier between you two.

Hayoung slowly opens up her legs and fully offers herself to you—no words can express her beauty in this state of undress; she looks ravishing in her most vulnerable form.

“What are you waiting for, Oppa?”

You might not get that fairytale ending with her—this might be the last time you will ever see her—but you can paint a new colorful memory with Hayoung.

You line yourself up to Hayoung, your head grazing across her labia. You look into her eyes one more time. Hayoung nods, and so you slowly insert yourself. As soon as your head penetrates her, the immense tightness of her walls almost overwhelm you.

“Oh my God—you’re so big,” she moans at your size, groaning louder as you sink yourself further and stretch her out more than your fingers could. You gather Hayoung tenderly in your arms while her legs wrap around your butt, deepening your connection.

You pause when your length is halfway embedded in her; Hayoung is overwhelmingly tight around your rod. Taking deep breaths, it takes a couple of moments for you to get accustomed to the sensation of her.

“Oppa, move. Please.” Hayoung tries to buckle her hips onto you, but she’s still tired from her last orgasm. Now that you’re used to the feeling, you pull halfway out of Hayoung and then gently thrust back in. You both groan as you finally fill her up to the hilt.

You develop a slow, comfortable rhythm as you watch her breast heave with every deep thrust. Hayoung whimpers with each stroke. You look down at Hayoung, and she’s as beautiful as ever—glassy eyes that focus on you, lips partly parted from panting, cheeks flushed from pleasure.

She pulls you down and kisses you. You taste your shared breaths and feel the combined thud of your heartbeats as your bodies synchronize, moving as one in your fiery embrace. Her nails scrape across your back, making you hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You return the favor by increasing the tempo of your thrusts. Your cock pistons in and out of her slit persistently, hitting Hayoung's sensitive spots deep and hard. Hayoung breaks the kiss and squeals loudly, grasping onto you tightly.

You suddenly feel a sharp pleasurable sensation nipping onto the side of your neck, causing you to gasp. Hayoung’s teeth slightly sinks into flesh as she sucks and nibbles on your pulse point.

Hayoung shudders suddenly—her walls rapidly contract around you as she reaches her limits first, succumbing to her second orgasm of the night. Hayoung brushes her fingers through your hair, trying to pull you over to the peak with her.

The familiar tightening sensation surrounds your abdomen. Your body starts to shake as you try to hold out your growing pleasure. “Hayoung, where do I—”

Hayoung doesn’t give you a choice—she smashes her lips against yours and tightens her legs around you. The touch of her lips was the last straw that broke the camel’s back, and with one powerful thrust, your body caves into its limits. Pulse after pulse, you’re milked off every ounce by Hayoung’s walls as she hums at the warm feeling of your load filling her up to the brim.

You stay hilt-deep in to make sure not to fall on her. It takes a moment before the throbbing finally stops. As you detach from Hayoung by rolling to the side, you feel the results of your tryst drip onto your legs. You grab some tissues and help Hayoung clean up the mess. Luckily, part of the blanket remains clean from your combined juices.

In the post-coital clarity, you realize it was not the most responsible thing to have sex without protection.

“Shit, Hayoung, sorry I came in you.”

“No, it’s okay. I wanted you to.

“I know I’m safe today, but can you go with me tomorrow?

“You know… for the pill.”

“Sure, of course, I can.”

You pull Hayoung in to cuddle, and she eases in your hold.

She draws random patterns onto your chest.

“Can’t you stay for one more day?” she asks.

“I can’t. I have work the next day,” you regretfully reply.

It’s silent for a while.

You feel you have to say more, anything to tell her how amazing this trip was because of her.

Hayoung leans up to peck you on the lips. “Don’t worry. You have your own life to live. But, can I see you around back in the city?”

“I’d like that.”

Your eyes get heavier by the second. Hayoung yawns as she further settles into your embrace.

The pull into dreamland is getting stronger.

Before succumbing to sleep, you call out for Hayoung.

“Goodnight, Hayoung.”

“Goodnight, Oppa.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

The sound of chirping awakens you.

You open your eyes to see the room slightly lit up by the sunlight. For the first time in months, you’ve just had the best sleep of your life. You don't have a banging headache as well.

You want to rise up, but you’re pinned down by a weight. Looking down —Hayoung is still asleep in your arms.

As much as you want to stay in this position, you have to move. You kiss Hayoung on her lips—to your surprise, she kisses back.

“Oh. Were you awake the whole time?”

“Morning, Oppa. Yeah, I wanted to stay like this for a while.”

She softly nuzzles your neck. You reciprocate by hugging her tightly, hoping never to let her go.

But time is slowly running out.

“Do we really have to go?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

With much hesitation, you kiss her one more time before the two of you stand up.

You’re able to find your clothes haphazardly thrown around the room.

The rest of the morning went smoothly. After getting into proper clothes and packing the rest of your stuff, you accompany Hayoung to the pharmacy. Luckily, no one was there to see you two there; it would have been embarrassing to be caught by her grandparents or anyone else who knew her.

It didn’t really matter anyways—Hayoung was by your side the whole time, clutching your hand.

But unfortunately for you two, all good things come to an end.

The elderly couple and Hayoung accompany you to the entrance of the resort. “You were such a great guest. We hope you book again in the future!” Daeun says as gives you a quick hug. “Thank you Daeun, I hope to be back soon!”

Beomjin nods his goodbye before leaning next to your ear. “Take care of her,” he says cryptically.

It confuses you, but you just nod back.

What did he mean by—

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” Hayoung pulls you by the wrist. You wave back to the chuckling elderly couple closing the door to the resort.

The bus is already there, and a couple people are already entering it. Hayoung slows down and intertwines her fingers with yours. She squeezes your hand as the two of you approach the bus.

You’re tempted to stay, at least for one more day. But you know life doesn’t work that way.

“Well, this is it,” you say as you turn to face Hayoung. Despite the huge smile, her eyes threaten to spill out tears.

“Thank you for coming, and I really hope to see you soon.”

The two of you lean in and capture each other’s lips for what could be the last time. You try to express all the gratitude and hope you can muster into the kiss. If only you had more time with Hayoung to figure out things together.

"You'll find me," she says as the kiss ends. Hayoung hands you a crumpled piece of paper and hugs you.

The bus driver shouts out that it’s the final call to board.

“Goodbye, Oppa.” She lets you go, stepping back to allow you to board the bus.

“Goodbye, Hayoung.”

You enter the bus and quickly find a seat with a view of her. She waves at you with finger hearts. The bus driver sounds his final checks, and you feel the bus moving forward.

Hayoung blows you a final kiss. You place your hand onto the window, trying your best to engrave every detail of Hayoung before you lose sight of her. At last, the bus moves forward, starting your journey back to Seoul.

You lean back into the seat, trying to comprehend how fast three days have gone by so fast.

While reflecting, you fiddle with the crumpled paper she gave you. You open it up to see a lovely drawing of a tree and her cell phone number written.

A smile, hoping that you do see Hayoung soon.

You look out the window as you watch as the humble village disappears out of your sight.

——————————————————————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks since your vacation. Whatever transpired in that short amount of time has made you an entirely different person. It has been more delightful to draw; the depth and warmth of your sketches are brighter than ever as if you never had that artist’s block. Everyone has been saying they haven’t seen you smile this wide in ages. You can finish deadlines faster now since you’ve been sleeping better. The whole burnout ordeal is now thankfully a thing of the past. .

Unfortunately, Hayoung hasn’t replied to your texts for a few days; her replies were becoming pretty vague. You thought she would be a wonderful afterthought as you trudge on through daily life, but you can’t stop thinking about her. You wish you had more time with Hayoung back in the village, just one more day to figure out your feelings for her..

You head to Jaesung’s office—he said that your department had a new hire and you needed to show them the ropes.

Maybe that’ll actually get your mind off things.

“There’s our employee of the month!” Jaesung jests as he stands up to greet you, enveloping you in a hug.

You laugh back. “You know we don’t have that here!”

“Well, you definitely look well rested and happier, that’s for sure.”

“Anyways, where’s the new hireling?”

A knock is heard on the door, and when it opens, you almost drop to the floor.

“Oppa?”

Sometimes, the universe just does you right.

AN: I've had this for farrrrr too long! There's just something with me and long fiction fluffy hot springs type fics! But yeah I really appreciate if you made it this far and actually read it all. I was in a big runt, so this fic was just a way to unload things for me

Special big thanks to @midnightdancingsol,my forever editor and my forever cutie. Thank you for not giving up on me and my very repetitive mistakes!

Thank for the comments and inspirations, and trying you bestest to keep me positive about the story! @xkajin and @ifeelsounsure0!

#song hayoung #fromis 9 smut #smut #male reader #kpop smut

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hxneyhxrts · 2 years

Text

Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 3)

Part 2

note: You guys are so freaking sweet for reading this i’m so deadass

warnings: explicit language

Pure Gold

The way the cockpit held heat did nothing to ease Jake’s pounding headache.

Maverick had all but chastised him in the privacy of his office, a conversation neither of them were happy to have had, but necessary all the same.

“You wanna explain to me why Lieutenant Canadee just tore past my office like she was heading to a fire?”

He didn’t. So he chose the safe route, muttering, “No clue,” and leaving it at that.

Mav had split them into teams, a blend of his crew and the newbies. He had shamefully breathed a sigh of relief (mixed with disappointment) when she had been assigned to fly with Phoenix and Bob, not even waiting to hear the rest of the lineup before she excused herself to get dressed. She hadn’t met his eyes all morning, and Jake thought it must be for the best if she didn’t look at him. He very well may have begged for forgiveness if she had.

It’s not that he hated her. He had figured out as much after laying awake in bed for hours the previous night, mulling over their conversation until his head hurt. He didn’t hate her. He didn’t even know her. There was just something about the way she smiled and walked and talked that threw him…

off.

Jake Seresin was never put off. Any room he walked into was his. He flew like he had been doing it his whole life, and very little rattled him. But she unnerved him. He felt disarmed whenever she was even in his line of sight, and he knew himself well enough to know she was going to be a problem if he didn’t get this under control.

So no, he didn’t hate her.

He almost wished he did. It would be easier to hate her and know that was why he lashed out at her after only five minutes of knowing her (or why he spent hours obsessing over those five minutes). Hate would be easier than whatever this was.

Because Jake didn’t know what “this” was. He knew it stung a little bit, but he also knew if he let himself, he wouldn’t mind it. But he didn’t have time for all of this, not when he had a job to do, and a decision to make.

He didn’t see her when he suited up. Or when he stalked across the tarmac, smirking at Payback as a means of convincing them he was still the same unshakeable Hangman. He didn’t see her at all, even now.

The sun was especially awful today, and Jake half wondered if he could be sunburnt through his flight suit. It certainly felt that way.

“You’re dead, Bradshaw,” he huffed, already exhausted by this drill and the heat and her. Rooster groaned, pulling right and heading back to the hangar. Jake had already cleared out Rooster and two student planes- Hive and Beetle.

Copper and Texas had practically jumped at the chance to be his wingmen, and even Jake had to admit that they were doing a pretty good job. They were keeping right on his tail, and had even gotten close to taking out Coyote and Payback, before they got away.

“Tex, you see anybody?” he asked, the first time he had spoken to the young blonde since they ascended.

“Nope, not a soul. I haven’t seen Maverick since we left. I think Coyote is somewhere north east of us, but I didn’t get a good look. Without Hive watching his wing though, we can probably catch up to him before he even realizes.”

Jake shook his head. “Not with Payback in the backseat. We’ll have to edge them out. You guys break left and-”

“Fuck!”

Jake’s head swung to the left just in time to catch Copper pulling up as quickly as the F-18 would go, dropping his own plane down and right. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Phoenix, you’re on Hangman. I’ve got Cop.”

Gwyn.

“Yes ma’am,” his team member responded, and he could almost hear the smile in her voice.

“Copper, stay on my wing!” he roared, but the red head was already falling back. He just barely saw Cheek’s plane as it came up beneath him, sights zeroed in on his wingman.

He was on his own.

Fine.

“Hi Bagman,” Phoenix purred. The smugness in her tone usually would’ve made him laugh, but with the other woman on the same field as him, he wasn’t in a joking mood.

“Let’s do this, then.”

Phoenix for her part, gave him a run for his money. Several times he had been forced to scissor just to keep her from locking him in, but he had gotten his rhythm, and now had her on a wild goose chase. He just needed to get her straightened out so he could pull back and over her.

“Dead,” crackled through his headset before an outrageous curse from Texas followed. “On our way back to you Phoenix.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jake bit out, maneuvering himself just so and getting Phoenix right within his gun lock. “You’re dead, Trace.”

He could hear Bob sigh as Phoenix groaned. “Come and get him, you guys.”

‘Here we go,’ he thought.

“I’ve got visual,” Alec spoke now, the first time Jake had heard from the dark haired man since the exercise started. Jake cut left, trying to put enough distance between them to give him a moment to think.

“Looks like you could use a wingman, Seresin.”

God, he had never been so excited to hear Maverick’s voice.

“Where you been, old timer?” he tried to joke, acutely aware of the team still very much on his trail.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters if I’m here now.” And sure enough, Mav was sliding into place just behind his right wing.

“Second plane,” Rev informed Cheek, and Jake noticed their communication was much more clipped and straightforward than the last time he had flown with them.

“I see it,” came Gwyn’s reply. “Still in pursuit. Check landscape.”

“Clear,” Rev replied, a note of something Jake couldn’t identify in his voice. They were up to something, and Jake didn’t want to hang around to find out what it was.

“Mav, break,” he called, pulling his plane as far left as he could, pushing until Cheek and Rev had completely flown past him before righting himself and getting behind them.

“Works every time,” Mav laughed, but Jake was still too far into the task at hand to chuckle along with him.

Something wasn’t right.

“Rev?” Gwyn asked, calm as ever.

“They’re in position,” came his reply.

Fuck.

Suddenly the sky in front of him was empty, and the plane he had previously been pursuing was dropping, and dropping quickly, plummeting towards the hard deck and then beyond it. Jake and Maverick were still racing forward, passing right over them as they dropped altitude faster than he thought possible before they lost all visual of the other team.

“Canadee!” Mav shouted.

“Dead.”

Jake pulled hard to the side as Maverick sputtered. It was a trick, a dirty one at that, but he had caught it quicker than the older man and barely managing to dodge Cheek’s gun lock as she appeared right behind the pair of them.

“Hangman’s coming around the side,” Rev warned and Jake saw Gwyn turn in response, now following him once more.

She had slid right below them. Disappeared like magic and ended up right on their tail. A small part of him felt thrilled at the chase, but the other part of him, the “I don’t know what this is” part, felt queasy.

He managed to pull his head out of his ass and lock her in after barely dodging her for the better part of ten minutes, and when he finally got the drop on her, his chest loosened.

The comms were dead silent as they flew back to base, no jokes from Alec or anything.

He allowed them to land first, pulling in minutes after and maneuvering his plane to its resting place. He threw the canopy open and was met with Rooster’s grinning face.

“You look like hell,” he smirked beneath that ridiculous fucking mustache.

“Where are they?” he said instead.

He trailed behind Bradshaw to the flight bay where the rest of the team had communed around some tables and chairs pulled up from various corners of the space. Cheek had just managed to sit down when he stalked in, opening his mouth to speak when Maverick beat him to the punch.

“Lieutenant,” he started, and she snapped back up.

“Captain,” she greeted, a twinge of hesitation there.

Maverick slowed to a stop in front of her, and Jake joined him with his hands planted firmly on his hips. “How’d you do that?”

She looked nervous, her hands wringing together, but Alec was smirking from his place next to her. She cast a nervous glance back at him before turning to face Maverick again, avoiding looking at Jake altogether.

“I turned off the engine.”

Jesus fucking-

“You turned off the engine?” Jake voiced incredulously, because surely he had misheard her or misunderstood in some way. Gwyn met his eyes for the first time, her brow smoothing into something like annoyance, and her previous anxieties were gone.

“Yes.”

He wanted to laugh. Maybe even shout. Because this is exactly what he had tried voicing to the rest of the team, to Simpson.

She turned off the fucking engine.

It was Maverick who broke the silence that fell as Jake threw his hands up. “Explain that to me.”

She swallowed once, twice, that nervous restlessness coming back to her in full swing. “In flight school, uh, they’d have us practice what to do if the plane stalled. So we’d have to turn off the engine mid-flight and follow safety protocols,” her voice quietly carried. Her fingers were now digging into her flight suit pants, and Jake would’ve pitied her being so stressed out to talk to her superior if he wasn’t so…

He didn’t know what he was.

“You descend pretty quickly once the engine’s off. So we… cut it from time to time,” she finished in a mutter.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Jake challenged, closing in on her once again. He saw her nostrils flare as she opened her mouth, no doubt to scorn him, but Alec took that moment to jump in.

“We turn it back on once we get low enough, no big deal.”

Bradshaw outright laughed at that, and Hangman glared at his friend, which only made him giggle harder.

“Yes,” Maverick soothed, casting his eyes at Jake quickly before addressing the two students before them, “but you fell well below the hard deck, and we can’t have you guys doing that.”

“There was no hard deck.”

Her words made Jake pause, eyes narrowing as everyone around them seemed to lean in closer.

“Of course there was a hard deck,” he all but sneered at her, because honestly, what the fuck was she talking about.

“No,” she pressed, fully turning to him now, and he fought the urge to seize up. “The hard deck is supposed to be outlined by the drill instructor at the beginning of practice. You didn’t outline a hard deck, and neither did Captain Mitchell. There was no hard deck for this hop.”

Jake could feel the flush coming over his cheeks and how it crept down his chest. His hands clenched at his sides as he bit down the yelling fit working its way out of his mouth. Maverick only smiled.

“Fair enough.”

Fair enough?

“You’re kidding me,” he whirled on the instructor. “You’re not gonna let this slide, are you?”

“We didn’t set a hard deck. No hard feelings.” He turned to the young woman again. “For future reference, let’s just say every drill with Lieutenant Seresin is set at five thousand feet.”

“Yes sir,” she agreed, as if it was that easy to reel her in.

Maverick turned to dismiss himself, and Jake was right on his heels. “So what, we just let her get away with that?” he asked once they had gotten far enough from the group.

“Why are you only blaming her?” Mav asked instead.

Jake’s steps faltered before he regained his footing and started after his captain again. “What do you mean?”

“We were the ones who forgot to set a hard deck. And besides that, she is only one person in that duo, but you aren’t going after the RIO. Only her. Why is that?”

“She’s behind the wheel,” he insisted, a lump forming in his throat

“He’s every bit as responsible for that flight as she is. He told her where we were and defended the maneuver after. So why aren’t you up my ass about how irresponsible he is?”

And damn. He didn’t have a response.

“I think,” Mav started, his tone much more gentle than it had been as they rounded the corner to his office, “there’s something going on with you and her.”

“I don’t even know her-”

“Doesn’t matter,” the older man interrupted. “I think it has nothing to do with her flying and everything to do with her. What it is, I don’t know, but do me a favor.” He turned to face Jake fully as he unlocked the door to his office. “Take it easy on her. Treat her the way you treat everyone else. Give her some of that Jake Seresin charm. Maybe something will happen.”

“I don’t want anything to happen,” he muttered, but it sounded like it was a lie, even to his own ears.

Pete only smiled, and began to shut the door behind him.

“Sure.”

Treat her like everyone else.

Just like everyone else.

Fine.

He could do that.

He would do that.

Easy.

—-------

Jake Seresin was an asshole.

Gwyn had hardly stopped talking since she dragged Alec back to the locker room. He had positioned himself to lounge across a bench, smirking as she paced in front of him.

“He’s just such a dick! It’s only been a few days and he hates me! I’m busting my ass trying to impress him, and for what? God, he’s such an ass!”

Alec laughed, the sound cutting her rant short, and sat up. “Never meet your heroes, right?”

She just rolled her eyes.

It was frustrating. When Admiral Simpson had announced that they were recruiting from her class for an actual team, she had been ecstatic. When she heard it was the uranium plant team, her heart had done a cartwheel. These guys were the best of the best, and the chance to be in their group was right in front of her. She had spent the last week or so dragging Alec out late and bribing one of the techs just so they could get in extra practice. All she wanted was to impress them, and it felt like she was doing that.

Except for him.

He had taken one look at her and decided she wasn’t it. He had barely seen her fly and had no idea the extent of what she could do, and he had shut her down immediately.

And it pissed her off to no end.

She didn’t like being counted out, or talked down to. And Jake Seresin seemed eager to do exactly that.

“It’s just so fucking frustrating,” she grumbled.

Alec rolled his eyes and stood, looking down at her with a light and carefree gaze. “It’s not a big deal. The guys an ass, so what?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Of course you would say that. Alec, I have to play catch up with you guys at every turn. Whatever the rest of the pilots do, we have to do ten times better. God knows how long it took us just to get into Top Gun, I don’t want to have to fight for every little job.” She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to push back the throbbing starting at her temples. “I just figured this would be different. They already have Phoenix on the team, so I figured maybe they’d be a little more open minded-”

“Hold on, you think he’s being an ass because you’re a girl?” Alec laughed. “Gwyn, I hardly think that’s the problem.”

“Well what else would it be?” she threw her hands up with a huff. She was aware of how loud she was getting, her voice echoing off of the metal lockers, but she barreled on. “He doesn’t treat any of the other pilots like this, he even went out of his way to strike up a conversation with Texas today! When was the last time someone was genuinely interested in what Texas had to say?”

The man towering over her smirked, a hint of amusement lacing his mouth. “So you’ve been paying attention to who he talks to?”

She heard what he was implying the moment he opened his mouth, and began to shake her head. “You’re insufferable.”

Gwyn grabbed her bag and yanked her sweatshirt over her head as Alec threw his head back and roared with laughter, trailing behind her. She grabbed the rest of her belongings before heading to the locker room door and throwing it open.

Lieutenant Jake Seresin greeted her as it hit the wall.

Of course.

Jake looked between her and Alec quickly, some unreadable expression passing over his face before it disappeared, and then he was smiling. His smile was charming and near predatory, completely foreign to how he had looked at her up until this point. “Lieutenant Shaw, you do know this is the women’s locker room, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Alec replied from behind her shoulder and Gwyn silently begged him to behave. “I just prefer the view in this one. Plus it smells nicer.”

Great.

Jake’s brow furrowed quickly, and then he was sliding that near plastic grin to her. She braced for impact.

“Lieutenant Canadee. How are you?”

And that… wasn’t what she was expecting.

“I’m fine?” It sounded more like a question as it left her mouth. Hangman smiled nonetheless.

“Great. I came to grab you guys. The whole team is heading out for drinks and we’d be thrilled if you’d join us.”

What the fuck was happening?

She wanted to scoff at him. Maybe yell and call him all the horrible names swirling around in her skull. Tell him what a pompous asshole he was. Spit at him for even thinking he could subdue her by being nice all of the sudden after he had all but humiliated her in front of her team.

She would've done all of that, if Alec hadn’t butt in.

“We’d love to.”

Gwyn whirled around to face him, mouth agape and expression shocked, but Hangman was already accepting their agreement and leaving them in the doorway. “Meet us at the Hard Deck.”

—-------

The Hard Deck was a cozy little bar only a few miles out from base. The name would have made Gwyn laugh on any other day, but now it just felt like a dig at her. She wondered if Jake had specifically chosen it to grind at her nerves or embarrass her further.

Alec pulled into the parking lot, killing the engine and turning to face her in the passenger’s seat. “Let’s do this.”

The interior of the bar was exactly what she expected out of a naval bar, all nautical themed and loud. The smell of beer wafted through the air and she scanned the crowd as patrons young and old shuffled around her and Alec hanging by the door. She caught sight of a god-awful Hawaiian shirt that could only belong to Bradshaw and followed it all the way back to a small secluded corner with a pool table. Cheers and shouts rose up from her fellow students, a few of them clapping her on the shoulder as they approached.

“There she is!” Beetle cheered, raising his beer in greeting.

“Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants,” Alec taunted, pushing at his chest lovingly before settling into a chair and leaning into her.

Jake was noticeably absent and Gwyn released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

This was easy. These people were her friends and this would be fine.

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite faces.”

Fuck.

She blew air through her nose as she turned her head to meet Jake’s eyes. He was dressed down, jeans and a t-shirt, and Gwyn swallowed at the sight of his arms practically bulging against the seams of his sleeves.

She had always admired Jake. He had swung by the base she was stationed at a year ago and she had been instantly infatuated. He was the exact kind of pilot she wanted to be, and he was incredibly easy on the eyes. Since getting to know him, though, she wanted to laugh at the idea that she ever found him endearing.

“How funny,” Alec mused, “we were just saying the same thing about you.”

Jake laughed at that, and Gwyn was deeply unnerved by how easy it sounded. Like he hadn’t spent the last few days practically growling at her. It almost sounded friendly.

What the actual fuck was going on with him.

She felt like she would get whiplash from his mood swings, so she turned back to the pool game at hand in favor of ignoring him. Yet, Jake positioned himself right in her line of sight.

“Great job out there today, by the way,” he praised.

“Um, thank you,” she tried, shying away from his eyes as they bore into hers.

With a nod, he turned his attention to the others, snagging a pool cue from Bob and inserting himself right into the game.

So the night went on with Hangman stopping by her and Alec every once in a while to make remarks about the weather or the game or the atmosphere or whatever other mundane topic seemed to pop into his head, and Gwyn found herself becoming more and more suspicious every time he spoke to her. Alec kept the conversation flowing, thank God, but Jake still tried to rope her in at every opportunity.

A bell tolled through the bar followed by a round of cheers from the entire crowd, including her friends. Coyote and Payback stood, the latter addressing the group as they turned to head to the bar.

“What are we drinking guys?”

One by one everyone listed their beer orders, save for Jake who asked for something harder that Gwyn couldn’t even pronounce and Alec who asked for the same.

“Cheek? What are you having?” Coyote asked.

“Oh no thank you,” she politely declined.

Payback looked at her with his brow furrowed. “The bell means free drinks. It’s on the house, kid, what are you having?”

Alec was snickering to himself behind her, shoulders shaking as he tried to keep any sound from escaping. “Go on, Cheek, tell them your drink order.”

She glared at him before turning back to the two men waiting for her response. “Really, it’s ok. I’ll grab something in a bit.”

The whole group was staring now, and she could physically feel the weight of all of their stares, both confusion from the squadron and humor from her classmates.

“I don’t mind grabbing you a beer, just need to know what you’re drinking,” Coyote tried, and her cheeks began to flame.

“I’m, uh, not old enough to drink yet.”

The sound of the cue ball smacking into the side of the pool table made her jump, turning to find Hangman standing to full height as something akin to astonishment crossed his features. “You’re not old enough?”

Gwyn began to shuffle her feet, the embarrassment creeping through her limbs at a painful pace. “Not yet. I will be soon, just,” she waved her hand uselessly, “not yet.”

Alec outright laughed, pulling her down to sit on his knee. She cast her eyes down and stared intently at a worn spot in the hardwood floors, wishing it would split open and swallow her up.

“You’re a baby.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Jake’s voice, glaring at the smirk she found on his face. She simmered even as her cheeks heated up further. Alec was still cackling behind her as his arms wound themselves around her waist. Jake’s eyes flickered down to watch them as they tightened on her hips, and she watched his expression falter for a moment before his gaze slid back to meet hers, still just as teasing and awful as before.

“Aw,” Alec cooed, reaching up and pinching her cheek. “Our little baby. Should’ve made that your callsign, huh?”

And the night turned sour from there. Since that interaction, Jake had made every excuse to engage her in conversation just so he could call her “baby” and Alec ate it up every time, pretending to rock her and giggling all throughout.

Fuck these guys.

It was about two hours of that when Gwyn had decided she needed a break from it, and excused herself to the bar. Pushing her way through drunk and sweaty sailors was not what she had wanted to spend her night doing, but she’d crawl through anything at this point to get a break from all the teasing.

The bartender, a small blonde girl about her age, found her waiting after a few minutes.

“I’ll have a lemonade, please,” she ordered softly, too exhausted by the atmosphere.

“Put it on my tab.”

Jake fucking Seresin.

His broad chest came into view as he leaned on the bar next to her, smiling, and she realized then just how much taller he was than her. It would've been intimidating if she wasn’t so spent.

“Hello, baby.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes outright, biting back her scathing reply when the bartender set a lemonade down in front of her. Jake smirked at the sight of the drink, but thankfully chose not to comment on it. They sat in silence as she sipped on her drink, eyeing the other bar goers as they poured in for the late night bustle.

“Walk me through your little trick from today.”

His voice cut through her thoughts, firm and commanding, but much friendlier than it had been in days. “Why?” she pressed.

Jake shrugged, an overly carefree gesture that she saw right through. “Just curious.”

She set her glass down, staring at a point near the font door so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. “I wait until Alec gives me the go-ahead and angle the nose down a bit. When I cut the engine the plane stalls for a second, starts to descend, and we wait until we hit a good altitude and fire it up again. Freaks out the other pilot and then we’re pulling up behind them before they realize what we did.” Her fingers slid around the rim of her glass, suddenly nervous to be telling THE Jake Seresin about her silly parlor tricks. “We came up with it in basic. Thought it was kind of funny.”

Jake was silent for a while, eyes roaming across the side of her face as he thought, all while she glanced around nervously, trying to find something to occupy herself.

Finally, “I want you to take me up with you tomorrow and show me exactly how you do it. Shaw can radio in from the ground, but I’ll be in your backseat.”

Gwyn gaped at him, but he was already leaving her at the bar in favor of returning to the group. Over his shoulder he called, “See you tomorrow, baby.”

Tomorrow, then.

Part 4

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun

265 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 4 years

Note

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Note

Kinky 97/100 (bonus with a side of pining): jaskier/any

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): wet dreams, somnophilia (ish?) Rating: explicit

Summary: Jaskier wakes up to Geralt rutting against his leg in his sleep.

I LOVED this prompt. I need to write wet dreams and/or somno more often. I don't think I got the pining across in this one very well, but I did add a bonus hand over mouth to keep quiet, if that helps 💖

Since winter started, Jaskier has learned a lot about Geralt. To start, he's actually very affectionate, even toward Lambert despite their antagonistic relationship. And Jaskier's always known Geralt is kind, but watching him make supper for his brothers and Vesemir and the light in his eyes when they enjoy it is… adorable, for lack of a better word. But by far, Jaskier's favourite discovery about Geralt is that when he's warm and safe and comfortable, he cuddles.

That's not to say he does it willingly or while he's awake, but it's the fact that somewhere in his subconscious, Geralt reaches out to him when he's asleep and curls around him.

Jaskier was supposed to have his own room, but he barely slept the first night because of the cold and Geralt had come to check on him and curled into bed with him and stayed. It's not unusual for them to share a bed, but normally it's because they can't afford two rooms or one big enough to have two beds. This is different. This time, there is an abundance of blankets, a huge fireplace Geralt could have lit without a thought, and they both have their own vast space to themselves. So there's really no reason for Geralt to continually return to Jaskier's bed, but he's not about to question it. Especially not after the cuddling starts.

He's not sure when that is exactly, because the first time he notices is a week or so after they arrived. Jaskier has always had vivid dreams, but this one is so real that it wakes him up and at first he still thinks he's bound, but as his mind settles, he realizes those are Geralt's arms around him. It takes an additional couple of minutes to adjust to this, but when he does, he shifts back gently, pressing against Geralt's chest and shutting his eyes. When Geralt doesn't wake, he risks moving a little closer, the dream long forgotten.

And it keeps happening. Maybe it's because he wants to wake up, but he does quite frequently now and every time Geralt is pressed against his back or has an arm slung over his hip and he's so peaceful. His breath is warm and even and he looks… content. But every morning when he wakes up, Geralt is always gone.

They do chores in the mornings, he knows, but he suspects Geralt knows about the cuddling and he can't bring himself to admit it, so he makes sure he's gone by the time Jaskier wakes up every morning. Which is unbearably frustrating, but Jaskier doesn't want to press anything; this is already so much more than Geralt has offered before, so he lets it pass and eagerly awaits every night when they tuck into bed.

So he's not thinking about much else when he climbs into bed one warm night, stripping down to his braies as he always does and climbing in next to Geralt. He rolls over, facing out into the room because Geralt reads before bed, shuffled over to see by candlelight before Jaskier inevitably complains about the light and pulls him down to bed. He doesn't mind, not really, but he longs for the warmth of Geralt's body against his own and he's not allowed to have it while they're both awake. They say their goodnights and Jaskier shuts his eyes with a soft smile, hoping silently that he wakes up like he usually does.

He does, a few hours later, but nothing about tonight is like it usually is.

Tonight, he wakes to soft moans and Geralt squirming next to him. For a moment, he thinks he's having a nightmare and he reaches out to wake him before realizing it's not a nightmare at all. Geralt is plastered to him, his head tucked under Jaskier's chin and he's hard. His hips shift again and his cock presses into Jaskier's thigh and it's all Jaskier can do to bite down on a moan.

He doesn't want to move because he doesn't want to disturb him, but he doesn't want to let Geralt continue if it's going to cause problems later. But it feels good. Shivers run up his spine as Geralt ruts against him and Jaskier can feel his own cock stir in his shorts. He shifts his hips back to keep from getting too closer, but Geralt nuzzles against his neck and he shudders.

Geralt's mouth is warm and damp where his lips brush against Jaskier's neck and he presses against him. It's overwhelming and when Jaskier shifts away again, Geralt gets an arm around his waist, pulling him close again. His hips jerk hard, rutting against him and Jaskier can't do anything but like there and let him. But fuck he wishes Geralt was awake, wishes Geralt would want this the way Jaskier aches to touch him now. He clenches his hands into fists as a soft moan breaks the silence in the room and squeezes his eyes shut.

But Geralt keeps him close, keeps tucked up under his chin and mumbles softly against his neck, each little indistinguishable word like a kiss and Jaskier doesn't know that he'll survive the night. But just as Geralt's panting increases and Jaskier thinks he's done for, Geralt jerks to a stop. His hips twitch and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's woken up, but he feels the dampness of his release seeping through his shorts and realizes with a start that Geralt just came. Which is… too much for him to process so early in the morning.

His own cock twitches in his shorts and he tries to disentangle himself because if Geralt wakes up thinking he got off grinding against Jaskier's thigh, he'll never forgive himself. And Jaskier can't bear this being a bad memory for him, because he will be thinking about it fondly for the rest of his life. He pulls away just in time to hear a low, garbled Jaskier? and he curses silently to himself.

He's still got Geralt's arm around his hip, but he doesn't dare move now, lest he make things worse. But Geralt already seems to have caught on to what happened and he's pulling away. Jaskier moves instinctively, sliding up closer as Geralt rolls away from him.

"Shh," he whispers, "you were dreaming, darling."

Geralt just grunts and Jaskier can feel the embarrassment coming off him in waves. He reaches out, brushing his fingertips down Geralt's side. Geralt shivers under the touch and curls in on himself.

"It sounded like you were having a good dream, hm? Why don't you tell me about it?" He wants to be encouraging, to show Geralt that this is fine. Good, even.

"Jask-" Geralt chokes, but he doesn't get further than that. Jaskier hums softly in the silence that follows.

"Hey," he says, "hey, Geralt," he aims for soothing, but his own voice is rough and bordering on seductive. "Did you dream about me? I don't mind if you did."

A loud, pained groan, muffled by the pillow is the only response he gets, so he shuffles a little closer.

"I'd like to hear about it if you're up for it?" Geralt groans again and Jaskier presses his nose into his hair. "Don't be embarrassed, darling. I'm honoured to be able to bring you pleasure. In any way. Even if you're not awake for it."

Geralt buries his face further in his pillow but Jaskier catches the end of what sounds like am sometimes.

"Do you… do you think about me sometimes?" A little groan. "When you touch yourself? Can I touch you?"

That certainly seems to get Geralt's attention, and he rolls onto his back, looking skeptically over at Jaskier. He's tangled in the sheets, so Jaskier tugs them straight again to avoid reaching out and just touching without permission.

"Yes," Geralt says tentatively. Jaskier guides him back onto his side, running a hand over a hip and catching his fingers on the hem of Geralt's shorts.

"Let's get these off, hm?" Geralt nods, so he pushes the shorts down and chucks them off the side of the bed, dragging his palm back up the front of his thigh. "Would you tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"Jask-"

"It's okay. I think about you, too, sometimes," he hums, "do you want to hear about that?" That catches Geralt's attention and he turns his head with a nod. "Yeah?" Jaskier squeezes Geralt's thigh gently and inhales softly.

"The inn we stayed at in Kaedwen," Jaskier starts, "you were playing Gwent with the butcher and I was bored so I was drinking with a couple of the others. But red wine makes me horny and I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I didn't want anyone else, so when I couldn't stand it any longer, when I couldn't keep my hands off myself any longer-" he punctuates the sentence with a quick squeeze of Geralt's thigh, sliding up toward his hip.

"That's where you went?" Geralt asks, low and breathy.

"Mmhm. Crawled into your bed and stripped naked, bed still smelled like you. I thought about going back down there and bringing you up to bed with me, but then I thought about… what if I just climbed into your lap right there? Would you fuck me right there? Let me ride your cock while you played?"

Geralt groans long and low and Jaskier presses his nose into the back of his head. "Then I thought, what if you just fucked me right over the table. If I got you hard and teased you until you couldn't take it anymore. Till you shoved me over the table and fucked me for everyone to see." His breath comes quick and sharp now and his cock throbs between his thighs, but it's worth it to hear the way Geralt groans.

"Fuck," he mutters and Jaskier hums.

"You don't have to tell me what you were dreaming about, you just sounded like you were enjoying yourself. I won't press." He settles back against the pillow, letting his fingers drag softly over Geralt's skin. "It's nice to see you enjoying yourself for once." He nuzzles against the back of Geralt's neck, risking a soft kiss to his hair and he feels Geralt tense up but before he can pull away, Geralt lets out a shaky breath.

"It was about you," he whispers and Jaskier's skin prickles with the confession.

"I'm glad," he manages, "glad I could bring you some pleasure, even if in your sleep."

He lets his hand slip, pressing between Geralt's thighs and shutting his eyes. His own arousal has faded a little, but he's still hard, and he has to shift to keep from pressing his cock against Geralt's ass. Even the thought of it sends a little spark through him and he shuts his eyes, letting out a measured breath.

"You're aroused," Geralt hums and Jaskier squirms.

"'S okay. You've already come and I'm not just gonna jerk off beside you." He huffs softly but Geralt turns in his arms, shifting up so they're face-to-face.

"I could go again, make it up to you." Geralt's breathless and Jaskier can't look away from him. "Can I touch you?" Geralt asks and Jaskier doesn't hesitate before nodding.

"Yeah."

Geralt presses a palm to his stomach, soft, tentative and it takes all of Jaskier's strength not to lean into it, to wrap himself in Geralt's arms and rut against him. Because he wants so badly to be close again, to curl up against him, but he doesn't want to risk whatever brought this on tonight. Geralt's hand slips lower, pushing under the band of his shorts and curling around his cock. Jaskier jerks unintentionally into Geralt's grip, letting out a shuddering sigh as his cock slips between his fingers.

But he doesn't have time to feel sorry about it before Geralt is gripping him firmly and jerking him quick and hard. The angle makes it a little awkward, but Jaskier shifts onto his back, presenting himself and making it easier for Geralt to touch him. And it does; Geralt slows his strokes, pressing more firmly and slipping his fingers down to press against his balls and Jaskier groans softly, turning his head so he can watch him.

But when he opens his eyes, he's surprised to find Geralt looking back at him, his eyes soft as he watches and Jaskier moves without considering the consequences. He catches Geralt's lips in a brief kiss, but just as reality hits him and he pulls away, Geralt surges forward, deepening the kiss. He shifts forward, keeping his hand on Jaskier's cock, pumping consistently even as he bundles him into his arms, shifting him so he's pressed against his back.

Like this, Jaskier has to twist to continue kissing him, but he can feel Geralt's cock against his ass and the trade-off is well worth it. He moans with the first shift of Geralt's hips, pushing back against him and encouraging the roll of his hips. He didn't think Geralt would get so hard again so quickly, but his cock rests thick and eager against him, slipping maddeningly between his cheeks through the fabric of his shorts.

"Geralt-" he huffs, groaning as Geralt's thumb comes up to press against his slit. When he slides down again, he slips from Jaskier's cock, cupping his balls before pressing back behind.

"Fuck," Jaskier groans, "please."

"Would you let me?" Geralt asks and Jaskier can't know if he means touching him or fingering him or fucking him but he doesn't care. He feels like he'll fall apart without Geralt's hands on him, so he just nods and reaches for Geralt's face, tugging him into another deep kiss.

And for a moment, Geralt lets himself get caught up in it, lips sliding softly against Jaskier's, before he remembers himself and makes quick work of getting Jaskier out of his shorts. Once he's naked, Jaskier spreads his legs wide, giving Geralt all the space he needs to do whatever he wants with him. And Geralt isn't shy about it any longer.

He slips back behind Jaskier's balls, rubbing against his hole before testing the stretch. It burns a little, but he has oil in his bag and Geralt's leaking against his ass which might be enough if he stretches him properly- He's abruptly thrust back to reality by Geralt's fingers, already slick, pressing in against him again.

"Oh!" he gasps and Geralt kisses his shoulder, an apology.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, good," Jaskier assures him, "just wasn't expecting you to be so… prepared." Geralt huffs a little laugh and pushes deeper.

"You didn't think we just come up here and become saints, did you?" Jaskier says nothing and Geralt leans in against his ear, nosing into his hair. "Jaskier, when was the last time you got off?"

"Uh, before we came up?"

"Oh." Geralt pushes deeper into him, knuckles grazing Jaskier's ass and he slides closer so his cock presses against the back of his thigh. "Not even once?"

Jaskier shakes his head. "I know how well you all hear and smell," he scoffs and Geralt laughs again.

"I was surprised I didn't smell it on you, but I figured you must have gotten off in the baths and washed it off."

He hadn't even considered that, truthfully, and he's regretting it now. His cock throbs against his thigh and every little shift of his leg has him twitching for more. He wouldn't be so worked up now if he had just jerked off in the bath like apparently everyone else does.

"Didn't want to be rude," Jaskier says but it comes out as a gasp as Geralt pulls out and presses against him with two fingers this time.

Geralt just hums, flexing his fingers to stretch Jaskier's rim. Jaskier shoves back onto him, rocking onto his fingers and Geralt nips at his ear, pressing his cock into Jaskier's leg.

"Is this what you want?" he asks and Jaskier rolls his head back.

"More," he whispers, "more, Geralt, please-"

Geralt shoves two fingers into him and Jaskier can feel his impatience growing as he rocks up against the back of his thigh. When he pulls out, Jaskier whines, but then Geralt's adjusting behind him, pressing the head of his cock against Jaskier's rim. He reaches around, pressing a hand over Jaskier's mouth.

"If you don't want to be heard, you'll have to be quiet."

Jaskier just moans against his hand and rocks back against him. Geralt presses into him, stretching him open as he slides in and Jaskier's eyelids flutter, shifting to adjust to the size of Geralt's cock. But he feels too good to stop and it's been so long since he's been properly fucked that he can't keep himself from slowing down. He shoves his hips down, taking Geralt all the way and squeezing around him. The hand over his mouth tightens and Geralt reaches down to wrap the other around his cock.

He strokes him quick and hard and Jaskier tries to keep pace with his thrusts but loses himself in the rock of Geralt's hips. He stills, lets Geralt hold him tight against him and lets him fuck him quick and hard. But as Jaskier pushes closer to the edge, Geralt's thrusts become more erratic.

He shudders and groans, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck and sucking at the skin on his shoulder. It burns through him like wildfire and Jaskier can't help but press against his chest, tipping his neck to give Geralt better access. And Geralt never lets up, jerking him quick and hard with a firm hand, somehow keeping him right on the edge until Jaskier is practically begging to come, his pleas muffled by Geralt's palm.

When he does come, he throws his head back against Geralt's shoulder and Geralt pushes up onto one arm, leaning down over him. He slips his palm to Jaskier's throat, pressing just gently as he leans down to kiss him. And Jaskier lets himself slide over the edge, Geralt's mouth hot against his own as he spills onto his stomach and the sheets.

And Geralt keeps fucking him, hips snapping hard until he shudders to a stop, mouth still slotted loosely against Jaskier's. He shares his breath, huffing softly as he regains the ability to breathe properly and once he's calm, he bundles Jaskier up into his arms and rolls onto his back, dropping his head back against the pillow. Jaskier shifts so he's face-to-face, resting his elbows on the bed next to Geralt's head.

He looks at him, takes in the shape of Geralt's face in the dark, the mat of hair stuck to his forehead and he smiles to himself. He wants to tell him everything in that moment, how much he loves him, how desperately he wants to spend the rest of his life making him happy, but it feels a little rushed. So he dips down, pressing his lips to Geralt's and smiling when he's met with a responding kiss.

"Do you think," he whispers, "that this time you'll be here in the morning?"

"You knew?" Geralt asks and Jaskier smiles at him.

"Why do you think I was always so eager to go to bed, darling?"

"Coulda just asked," Geralt mumbles, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tight.

"Like you asked to fuck me?" Geralt squirms but says nothing and Jaskier kisses him again, soft and sweet, folding his arms over Geralt's chest and resting his head on them. "You can have anything you want from me, Geralt, you only have to say so."

"Stay," Geralt says softly, "stay here with me, that's all I want."

101 kink prompts

#geraskier #spicy #rex writes

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

you asked for albedo stuff yesterday and i forgot to give you some 🥲 here

-Albedo bites the ends of his pencil/pen while in deep thought

-He covers his mouth while laughing

-His hair is a huge problem to becoming messy so he usually keeps it in one style bc he sucks at styling hair

-I believe he would hyperfocus on a meal until he starts to hate it and goes onto another

-Probably sleeps on his back or stomach

-Quietly sings to himself when he's alone doing experiments

-his hands are probably soft as hell

-he probably bounces his leg when stressed

-I cant decide whether or not he's always cold or always hot (wearing his jacket everywhere but seems fine at dragonspine??)

-would break klee out of jail

-he always tries to have at least one meal with klee

WAIT SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS--

definitely a pleasant surprise nodnod always a treat to have more Albedo, thank you for the food, Chi OTL

I'll write a little about each one b/c I have no self control and I'm feeling inspired by ur headcanons so lets goooooo ehehehe

They'll be a mix between imagines and drabbles!

Enjoy the food :3c

Contains: Albedo x gn!Reader, some standalone Albedo, Klee, fluff

- Breaking Habits -

"Albedo? You're doing it again-"

He blinks, shifting to remove the tip of his pencil from his lips, frowning when little indents come into view.

"Hm...it appears to be so."

Really, the Chief Alchemist has tried to wean himself off the habit, taking to coating the butt ends of his writing utensils with a horrid concoction of qingxin and jueyun chili, but the moment he slips into his usual daily tasks, it arises once more. The bitter spiciness is a taste that he still has not forgotten.

When his brows crease and his gaze seems to burn into the pencil, you offer a smile. With a kiss pressed to his temple, you take it from his loose grasp, setting it down on the table's surface.

A few weeks later, it dawns on him that the touch of wood to his lips evokes the memory of your gentle reminder. Without fail, he sets his pencil down in search of a sweet to busy himself with instead.

- His Laugh -

I can just imagine him with his hand lifted to cover his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips and his eyes slightly squinted. It's something that'd happen almost instantaneously--he doesn't intend to hide his smile but for some reason he can't help but do it.

An endearing habit that you've come to look for.

Regardless-

If you lower his hand and pepper him with a few little kisses, you'll get another giggle out of him before a kiss.

- Hairstyles -

Albedo only knows two ways to do hair: Klee's twin pigtails and his own half-up braid.

Over the past three years of his residency in Mond, it's become a sort of trademark. The assumption that it's just how he likes to style his hair has long since been accepted as truth--and really, he does prefer the style.

Though...

"Mr Albedo? Perhaps you should try to tie it all up instead...?"

The stray wisps of bangs that escape from the securely tied braid fall into his face and distract him from the task at hand. There's also the ever-present tickle right where the blond locks fall around his jaw. Surely, this shouldn't prove to be a problem considering he always has this style...right?

Needless to say, the smell of singed hair makes him choke and the Alchemist finds himself pulling away to tie his hair properly.

It's simple.

Or at least that's what he has been stuck repeating like a mantra as he stares at his reflection, unhappy with the way there's a strange bit of hair that refuses to stay tied. Sighing, he undoes his pony tail and tries again.

Hm.

No, now it's lopsided...certainly can't have that.

- Mealtime -

First, two little ears peek up above the surface of the counter besides him. Then, two little eyes belonging to a stuff rabbit toy followed by a red hat--

"Klee?"

The little girl stares at the fish steaks sizzling away on the pan, displeasure on her features despite the incredibly enticing smell. With unmatched resolve, she huffs.

"Big brother, Klee doesn't want fish again-"

Ah, right.

He's been in another of those moods, the particular taste and texture of the fish mingling with the salted butter, simple sauce, and lightly seasoned veggies sounding so much more appealing compared to nearly any other dish he's tried to enjoy in the past two weeks. It's without a doubt Albedo's all-time favorite dish. Perfect for someone with a small appetite and a need for something quick, filling, and nutritious.

"What would you like then?"

Ultimately (and truly, Albedo wasn't surprise), the little knight requested a serving of 'Fishy Toast'. Cutting up one of the fillets he'd fried, he laughs and shakes his head.

- Sleep Time -

When you come home, it's already dark, the streetlamps lining the cobbled road illuminating the front door as you fish out your key.

"Albedo? I'm back-"

Soft snoring punctuates the silence.

With a fond smile, you remove your shoes and make your way to the make-shift 'sleep station' set up on the couch. Sure enough, with his face shoved at an awkward angle against a pillow, Albedo lays on his stomach holding a second pillow to his chest.

As much as you'd rather not wake him (after all, he's barely gotten sleep over the past few days with how busy it's been), you kneel besides the couch to gently shake him awake.

"Bedo? Bedo, lets go to bed-"

He shoves his face further into his pillow, muttering something about waiting for results. But the silence that follows only lasts so long until he sighs and opens his bleary eyes.

"Welcome home," he mumbles, carefully shuffling best he can closer to meet your lips.

With a stretch and sigh, he sits up. Blond hair sticks up from the top of his head and to his cheek, some parts tangled despite his attempts to prevent it--your hair shouldn't tangle if you sleep on your stomach, right?

Holding back your laugh, you help him up so that the two of you can get ready to sleep.

- Singing -

Most often if not nearly each day, if you pass by the Favonius HQ's workshop, you might catch the soft sound of singing. A light sound that drifts from the partly-cracked door echoes into the empty hallway. Regardless of the traffic outside, it shows no sign of stopping, so you easily can sit right outside and listen.

It's not shy, though, even as the man's dulcet tone comes out gently, and there are days that the lyrics that slip from his tongue are of other regions.

Perhaps if you ever approach the Chief Alchemist, you might be able to convince him to sing just a short little tune. He'll oblige, though a soft dusting of pink will cover his cheeks as he does.

- Hands -

"My hands?"

Albedo watches as you tug off his gloves, head cocked to the side curiously. The moment his hands are free from their confines, you press a kiss to his palm and intertwine your fingers.

"Do you use lotion or something?"

He laughs.

"...Not that I am aware of...?"

When you squeeze his hand once, he squeezes yours back three times before bringing your joined hand to his cheek. Resting against them, his eyes close.

"Why do you ask?"

He feels you take his other hand as well, turning it over palm-side up, your fingertips tracing over the lines that adorn it's surface.

The tenderness of your touch is enough to make his heart stutter in his chest.

"Mmm...no reason."

- Leg Bouncing -

Whenever Albedo bounces his leg sitting at the Dragonspine workshop, a curse or two will slip out the moment his knee bangs against the wood.

Even being considered short, the table has decided to lay just low enough for him to cause minor injury to himself.

Shaking his head, he rubs at his knee to rid himself of the dull ache before continuing his observations at hand.

- His Jacket -

Wait okay but like...what if he actually has different versions of the same jacket? They look virtually the same but there's some of lighter material for warmer days, 'standard' ones for day-to-day use, and heavier ones lined with warm, soft fabric to insulate heat when he's on Dragonspine.

Same with his tights. I do know for a fact that there are tights lined with fleece that are incredibly warm and comfortable!!

- Escapees -

"You need to be very quiet, alright?"

Once more in the dark of the night, Albedo finds himself awake within the walls of the Favonius Headquarters.

Now...Klee technically wasn't grounded, so technically escorting her out of the so called 'solitary confinement' wasn't against any rule. To be fair, the room itself also wasn't really that either, judging by the child-themed decor, soft bed, books littering the floor, and the little table that sits just off to the opposite side of the room.

So! Albedo was certain that there wasn't any harm in what he was doing.

Not that he wasn't still sneaking around on his little improvised rescue mission.

He looks back to Klee, the little girl now wide awake and hanging on to his hand tightly.

When the morning comes, he sighs, crouched sitting on one of the child-sized chairs in the solitary confinement room, Klee peacefully snoozing in bed.

If only Jean wasn't pulling an all-nighter last night as well.

- Very Early Breakfasts -

Klee wakes up to the smell of sweet berry jam and chocolate in the air.

Clumsily, she slips out from under the covers with Dodoco cradled in her arms, padding along the wooden floors on her way to the kitchen.

"Big brother...?" She rubs the sleep from her eyes waiting for him to turn around.

"Oh, good morning Klee-"

"What time is it?"

That, Albedo decided, was a very good question. Especially considering that he hadn't yet gone to sleep and instead shuffled through the kitchen in the early hours of the day to make pancakes. If he had to guess--and he took a quick peek out the window despite the darkness of the early morning lending no clue--he'd say it was nearing 4am.

"Early. Go ahead and sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

The plate is presented to her with a brilliant smile, the Chief Alchemist satisfied to be able to keep his promise with her to always share a meal. But...the fluffy pancakes and freshly made whipped cream were also a source of his brightened mood.

Even though he knew he'd have no time to sleep and pack for his next Dragonspine expedition, the lack of sleep was worth seeing the sudden widening of eyes and delighted giggle from his younger sibling.

He could always take a quick nap at the base camp, anyway.

#anon asks #chifema #albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact headcanons #albedo headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #albedo my beloved #klee #albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff

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ratofthemedievalsewers · 3 years

Text

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic #dbh x reader #dbh x male reader #connor x male reader #connor rk800 #male reader #m! reader #connor x m!reader

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