#fingers crossed another 5-6 chapters to go

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 3: Poltergeist

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.8k Words

Warning/Notes: Ghost x Reader, a little of ass eating from Ghost, fingering, a bit mean Ghost, hair pulling, angst.

“Hey, Birdie.”

“Hey, Ghost.”

The two of you look at each other, each expecting the other to make a move. But since he doesn't seem bothered by the silence, you break it.

“Here for work or pleasure?” You ask opening the door as he chuckles.

“Well, that's not my choice.” He answers looking at you. “Half and half, I suppose.”

“Why is that?” You ask as you enter your flat, leaving the door open for him to enter. But when you notice he is not moving you turn to him. “Are you gonna come in or do I need to invite you like a vampire?”

You see the smile on his eyes (mainly because that's the only thing you can see of his face), and he impulses himself off the wall as he walks closer to your door. 

“And what would your neighbours think? A girl like you letting a man like me inside her house?” He asks cocking his head.

“Well, actually, I don't know if you have heard. But just last night my neighbour was taken by the police because turns out he was a terrorist or something like that, I'm not sure. So I think I am out of the competition for worst neighbour of the year, so, yeah, please c’mon in.” 

You hear him chuckle behind your back as you walk into your room, and a little later you hear the door close. Maybe calling it a room is a big stretch, your whole flat is a room. A small hall that goes from the door to where your bed is, a door on the hall to your bathroom and another one to your kitchen. 

Having breakfast in bed sounds great, but having lunch and dinner sounds a bit sad. But that's the flat you could get, and honestly, thanks to your neighbour's hobbies, at least you know the rent is not going to go higher.

“You know, jumping the wall on your balcony was ridiculously easy, you should probably get a lock for that window.” He comments looking at your window as he enters your line of vision.

“Then I would lose my deposit.” You answer sitting down on your bed to take off your shoes. You take off your jacket next and hang it in your closet. “Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, depends on what's the offer.” He says leaning against the wall again. He follows you with his gaze as you walk to your kitchen and open the fridge with a face. He chuckles when you close the door back and look at him. “Takeout?”

“Takeout it is.” You answer taking your phone out. “What do you fancy, Ghost?” 

“You know? Most people freak out when I get inside their house, don't ask me what I want for dinner.” He says crossing his arms.

“Should I freak out?” You ask looking at him with an eyebrow raised as you lend him your phone with the delivery app open. “Order whatever you want, I'm no picky. I'm gonna take a shower, if the food gets here there is money behind that frame.”

You point out the only frame on your whole house and walk into the bathroom. You try to walk with confidence, but once inside the room, you let a sight escape your lips.

When you said yesterday you were going to push Price and Kyle away, you didn't mean it as in pulling the rest of the team closer. 

This is bad, is mean and honestly, you must be on some weird week of your cycle where you are producing more pheromones than usual because you were chronically single for years and now can't seem to catch a break. 

You open the tap to wait for the water to warm up as you undress. Just as you take your shirt off your pants you notice you didn't pick your pyjamas, so you walk back out.

You see Ghost seated on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, feet dangling off the bedside and scrolling through your phone.

“You can take off your shoes, you know.” You comment as you pick up the plaid pants and massive sweatshirt you wear to sleep as well as your underwear.

“You are a sneaky one, you know.” He responds looking at you almost offended he didn't hear you exit the bathroom.

You chuckle at him and walk back inside the bathroom. The shower helps you calm your nerves, the man is in your bed, and he hasn't made any moves yet; probably because he is not into you, you need to humble yourself a bit. 

At some point you hear the doorbell and your stomach grumbles almost as a reaction. You quickly finish your shower, put on your clothes and walk back to the room. 

“Chinese?” You ask when you see the containers as he stays looking around. “Let me get the table out.”

You say winking at him when he looks at you confused and he gets even more confused when you kneel before him. You look up at him, laughing internally at what he must be thinking and then you get your nice arm under the bed and pull the foldable table under it. You take it out and with a shake, you unfold it, take your seat on the bed in front of the table and tap the bed next to you. “Have a seat.”

He sits next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and he takes the container out of the bags opening them. 

After a little, you decide to finally talk about the elephant and the room and ask: “So, did you just drop by in hopes I would invite you to dinner or do you actually have a mission today, Ghost?”

“Oh, yeah, about that. I actually had two missions today.” He says pulling his mask up so he can eat. You try not to stare at the little skin showing, but you quickly notice the stubble on his jaw. Blonde. “First one, finding out we're the girl from the captain's office was. That one was easy, thankfully cause the captain was freaking out. And the second one, figuring out why she left. That one is still ongoing.”

“And if the captain was freaking out why is it you the one that's on my house?” You ask looking at your plate, curious enough to ask but not brave enough to look.

“Cause he was scared the reason you ran away, was because of him or something he did. So he didn't want to make it worse.” He answers simply, you can feel his eyes on you. He bends down a bit to be able to see your face and ask. “Is that why you ran?” You shake your head. “Then why? It looks like you had fun.” 

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and notice that he is looking at your neck, you remember the lovebites and quickly try to cover them with your hand. 

“It was just…” you sigh. “I know when I am no longer wanted, and rather than make it awkward by making him drive me back or having to say bye I just… got out before he woke up.” 

“Hm, I still think you should talk to him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn't agree with you with the ‘not being wanted’ thing” He says doing quotation marks with a hand and taking his phone out to send a message with the other.

“He doesn't even know my name. Neither do you.” You almost mumble. I’m just another one on the list, you think. “I think he will be just fine.”

He winces as if he was in pain and says. “You a tough one, birdie.” He cleans off the rest of his plate and stands up. “You don't know my name either and you don't see me throwing a hissy fit.”

“I'm not throwing a hissy fit.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Did you… Did you just roll your eyes at me, birdie?” He says moving the table and standing between your legs. “Now that” He says pointing at your face. “That's a brat move.”

“I'm not a brat!” You try to defend yourself standing up, but as quickly as you get on your feet, Ghost manhandles you to be laying down on your stomach. He sits on top of your ass immobilising your hips and grabs your arm putting them behind your back leaving you unable to move. “Ghost, what the fuck?!”

“Language.” He says and you feel a hard slap land on your ass cheek making you yelp. “Are you going to behave or should I teach you a lesson, birdie?”

“What? What are you talking about? Get off me.” You mumble squirming under him.

“No, I don't think I will until you learn.” He chuckles as he begins to grind against your ass. He bends down to talk to up to your ears. “You should be grateful, that I found you and not Price. Do you know what he would have done if he found out you got back, walking, alone, in the middle of the night?” Three more hard smacks land on the same cheek when he sits up. “And that alone, without talking about the fact you were missing a shirt. And didn't even say goodbye. Not a phone number, not a name, nothing.” He lands two more on the same cheek and an even harder one on the other cheek. Leaving your arse burning and you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, but still, the most surprising thing about the situation is that you can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt.

You truly are learning about yourself these days. 

He grabs two handfuls of the meat of your arse, pushing your cheeks together as he grinds with a grunt. Then he lets go, you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone and it sends anxiety up your column. He must sense it because he says: “Calm down, birdie. I'm not giving you my cock until you beg for it, and only if you deserve it. And trust me, you don't.” 

He takes his belt off, aligns your forearms and ties them together behind your back. 

“Are you going to talk to Price? You can still leave unscattered.” He asks, putting his hands beside your head and leaning in to be closer to your face.

You look back at him from over your shoulder, face still push against your mattress, and try to look offended by how easily he got you tied, immobilised and horny. “I don't know.”

He makes the sound of a buzzer, like in the contest when they answer wrong. “Not what I want to hear, birdie.”

His index finger hooks the waistband of your pyjama pants as well as your panties, right above your ass and he pulls them down slowly. You hear him whistle as he pulls them down, feeling the cold hair of the room against your skin and against your glistering cunt. “I think I'm going to start by the desert tonight.”

He lands a loud smack on your naked arse, and when you try to complain, the sound gets strangled into a moan when you feel his tongue against your puckering hole. Getting your ass eaten by the mysterious masked man was not on your plans for tonight, but you are not complaining. 

You moan against the mattress, biting the sheets to try and conceal the sounds leaving your mouth. Your consolation, is the fact that you can feel Ghost moan against your skin, the vibrations travelling up to your nape giving you goosebumps. 

He gets his hands under your hips pulling them up, leaving you completely exposed. Ass up, face down, arms tied and knees together by your pants. He pulls back for a second to admire his job, you look already ruined and it's been less than a couple of minutes. 

You await, expectant, his next move, every single thought that was on your mind about how you should push him away and stand your ground, is silenced by the feral voices of your mind scratching the walls with the need for his mouth to be back on you.

“Look at you, birdie. Such a good girl all of a sudden. You are not a brat, you just need that attitude fuck out of you, right, doll?” He asks massaging your waist with both hands. 

“Fuck you.” You mumble, and Ghost lands a slap right to your cunt making you scream and arch your back to find distance from him.

“Language, birdie!” He says chuckling, amused with the situation. “C’mon, play nice, love. Are you going to talk to Price?”

His finger starts to travel up and down your slit, collecting the juices flooding from your cunt. He teases your entrance without getting inside.

“No.” You declared, tired of being played with.

“No?” He ask genuinely surprised. “Oh, I think you will.” He lands another hard slap on your pussy, right on your clit, and position his fingers so that when you arch your back again, you fuck yourself right into his finger. A loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion.

He raises his hand up to your nape, grabs your hair in a handful and pulls lifting your head off the bed. “I wanna hear you sing, birdie.” His fingers begin to move inside and out of your cunt making you groan softly, raising in volume as his tongue finds her way back to your ass.

You can feel his drool drip down your ass to where his finger is fucking your pussy, only adding to the mess. He uses the knuckle of his middle fingers to brush against your clit making you mewl and causing him to chuckle again. He can feel you clenching around his finger, and he pulls back to ask again. “Are you going to talk to Price?”

“No, fuck, no I won't.” You scream back. And immediately you wish you didn't. Ghost draws his finger back, and remains holding your head but otherwise untouched.

“Wrong answer again, doll. C’mon, tell me what I want to hear and I'll give you what want to get. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks. “No!” You answer, and the hardest slap to date lands on your ass making you cry out in pain. “Last chance, birdie. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks again.

You bite your lip, an inner battle going inside your mind. The stubbornness in you taking the lead, not even being reasonable, just stubborn. Another hit snaps you out of it. “Shit! Fine! Whatever, I'll talk to him.” 

“Good girl, birdie.” He grumbles against your ear as his fingers start to piston in and out of your cunt, the sting of the stretch by the second finger completely buried under the waves of pleasure. He keeps whispering pure filth onto your ears, unable to hear him over the ring of your ears caused by the stimulus on your weak point.

You feel drool drip down your chin into the sheets, but you can only focus on the tight knot inside your body. It's unfair how easy it seems to be for these men to make you come undone with barely touching you, it makes you think about those mediocre ex-lovers who would put the blame on you for taking so long to cum. Fuck them, these men, Kyle, Price and Ghost had you coming in minutes without even taking off their clothes.

Ghost brushed his knuckles against your clit again, and you can only moan his name before you are gushing over his hand. He helps you ride out your orgasm and slowly draws back his fingers. 

He stands up chuckling softly, you hear him walk into the bathroom, you hear the faucet open and close and then hear him walk back.

You feel the cold wet towel between your legs and it makes you jump off the surprise. “Sorry, you spend all the warm water, doll.” He says still snickering. He drops the towel on the table, pulls your underwear and pants up, takes his belt back and lies next to you caressing your hair. “Solid, birdie?”

You shake your head. “Pretty sure I'm liquid now, Ghost” You say absent-mindedly and rub your eyes as you yawn. He may have fingered the attitude out of you, but he also fuck the energy out.

“I think it's time for me to leave, thank you for the dinner, birdie. And for the desert.” He says, smiling at you. He lands a peck on your temple and stands up. “Lock your door when I leave. And talk to Price.”

When he turns his back at you, you roll your eyes standing up as well to close the door. He turns on his heels and looks down on you. “And don't roll your eyes at me, birdie. Don't give me an attitude. Lock the door.” He says and lights a cigarette as he makes his way out of the building. 

While you're are cleaning everything, tidying your room, getting ready to get into your bed when you get a message from a contact that is just a skull emoji. 

💀: Lock the door, birdie.

That's what you get for trusting him with you phone to order food.

“So she didn't say why?” Price asks Simon as he sits in the booth at the pub.

The both of them met there, a pub close to your house, Price too anxious to wait to get back to base to find out about Ghost’s discoveries.

“Negative.” Ghost answers setting the pints down. “She did make a great point, Captain.”

“Which is?” Price ask expecting

“We don't even know her name. Well, we do because of the background check we did to find her, but any of us have asked her.” Ghost responds. “And I thought you were the less hotheaded of the team, Captain.”

Ghost shakes his head as he laughs.

“Maybe try to talk to her when you are not saving her life? Maybe she will feel less overwhelmed then.” Ghost says taking his phone out to check his messages when he notices the vibrations. “Talking about the little bird.”

🐦: I told you I locked the dor

🐦: door*

💀: Awesome

🐦: ?

🐦: Go away, Ghost

💀: What are you talking about, birdie?

🐦: Stop messing with my door, I'm trying to sleep, you weirdo.

💀: It's not me.

💀: Are you sure it's your door and not your neighbours?

🐦: what neighbour?

💀: You and the terrorist are the only tenants on the building?

🐦: STOP MESSING WITH THE DOOR 

🐦: You are giving me the deposit money if you break it.

💀: I'm not at the door.

💀: Birdie?

💀: Don't ghost me now.

💀: Not on purpose.

💀: Birdie?

Ghost knit his brows at the lack of messages and look up to Price who seems lost in thought. “Maybe we need to save her again, Price. Your heart to heart talk will have to wait.”

7 minutes.

That's all it takes for Ghost and Price to reach your building. Guns in hands as soon as they saw your apartment door busted open.

Price felt his heart sink at the possibility of your being hurt, because of him and his inability to treat you the way he should. Waking up alone didn't hurt as much, he hadn't slept that good in who knows how long, and it was all thanks to the warmth of your body pressed against his.

So now, that only now has he found this comfort, the thought of it being ripped away from him before he could mend his error, was truly heartbreaking.

The nice thing about your house being this small, is that there is not a corner that remains unchecked. And still, you are nowhere to be seen.

But your flat is a mess. The dishes are broken all over the hall and kitchen floor, the fridge is leaning against the wall obviously having been pushed, your clothes are thrown all over the place, your mattress is cut out it's inside thrown around, your clothes mixing with the rest of the mess on the floor, and your wall…

“You will pay for your actions, whore.”

Can be read on the wall, big letters occupying the whole wall.

Your TV is missing, only the metal skeleton that holds it to the wall it's on is place. And your window is busted, that's when he sees it, a chair. On your balcony, as if it was used by somebody to jump.

Price walks up to the balcony so fast, Ghost grabs his shirt unsure of the Captain's plan. “She probably jumped to the apartment next door, Captain. Let's check it.” The younger says to try and calm the Captain. He nods and they both make their way to the apartment next door.

It is just as destroyed as yours, but still, no sign of you. They make their way back to your apartment and Price sits down burying his face on his hands.

Ghost takes out his phone again and he calls you, anxious waiting for you to pick up. But you don't, instead, a silly music begins to sound from under your bed. Tranquillity floods their senses, only for it to be destroyed when the only thing they find is your phone under your bed.

“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Where are you?” Ghost asks out loud.

THUMD

Both men whip their to the sound, and come face to face with your closet. Now, one of the things you like about your flat, is the closet. Built into the wall. With a ridiculously small space on top of it.

Both men look astonished, as a hand starts to crawl his way out of the false ceiling of the closet. You pop your head next, and when you confirm is the two men and not whoever entered your house just a couple of minutes ago, you start to bawl your eyes out.

When you heard the people force their way into your house, you automatically got yourself into the space on the false ceiling in your closet. You stayed there, contorted into yourself and used every ounce on yourself to not make a noise. 

You heard how they rampaged your little home, how they screamed, how they destroyed everything.

It was merely a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. And when you heard them come back for a second time, you were certain they would hear the beat of your heart. Until you hear what sounded like the sweetest desert on the universe, Ghost's voice, asking where you were.

The sheer fear that just saved your life, now turned you into a sobbing mess of tears and drool as you melt onto Ghost's arms once he holds you.

You feel Price's hand rubbing your back as he kisses your shoulder shushing you.

“It's all right, darling. We are here now. You are safe. No one is going to get to you now.”

Hii! 💗

Hoped you liked the new chapter, reader collecting these men like they are pokemon hehe wish that was me

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline

#call of duty #call of duty smut #cod smut #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly tf141 #tf 141 x reader #price #captain price #john price smut #captain price smut #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #price x y/n #ghost x y/n #soap x y/n #gaz x y/n #ghost smut #soap smut #gaz smut #cod mw2 #cod #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #ghost #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x you #kyle gaz x reader

[oval3000]

Chapter 3

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)

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He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.

She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.

"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.

"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.

You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."

So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.

Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.

"Sarah calm down!"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.

"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."

Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"

"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."

She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"

"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."

"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.

He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."

"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."

"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."

"She doesn't follow orders!"

"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.

"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.

"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.

"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.

He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."

She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"

"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.

"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.

"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."

"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.

He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."

"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.

"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."

"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "

She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.

She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.

You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.

You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.

He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.

He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.

"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."

The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.

"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.

No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.

He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.

You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.

You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.

"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.

"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.

"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.

"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.

"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"

He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.

You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.

"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.

You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.

When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.

That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.

You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.

Having a crush on a patient.

You have a crush on König.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #konig x reader #yandere konig #yandere könig #konig #könig x y/n #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 3k

Rating: 18+ smut

Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.

This couldn’t keep happening!

Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.

What if something happened to him?!

What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...

You shook your head violently.

Stop thinking like this!

Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.

Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.

“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.

He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.

A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.

His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.

Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.

A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.

Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.

“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.

Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?

Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.

“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.

Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.

“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.

You nod, tightening your hold on him.

“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.

“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.

“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.

The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.

Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.

Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.

Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.

The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?

With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.

Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.

After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.

He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.

Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.

“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.

You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.

“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.

"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.

You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”

You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.

You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."

"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.

Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.

His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.

“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.

There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.

When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.

Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.

Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.

“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.

Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.

His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.

His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.

Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.

Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.

“What do you mean?” You ask confused.

He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.

Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.

Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.

“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.

He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.

“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.

Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.

Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”

You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.

Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.

Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.

Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.

“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.

Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.

Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.

His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.

“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.

His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.

You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.

‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.

Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.

“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.

Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.

“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.

You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.

His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.

Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.

Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.

“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.

Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he

enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.

The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.

You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.

Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.

Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.

Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.

Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.

“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.

There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.

After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.

“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.

“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.

“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.

From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.

“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”

“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.

You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.

Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

🅒 All rights reserved

#bts #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfction #fallen angel #historical romantic fiction #royal guard #bts fluff #virgin princess #princess royal #marriage #bts smut #jungkook smut

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go (18+) - Masterpost

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, drama, eventual smut, fluff. 

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of cheating, broken relationship, reader is suffering so bad, pining, more will be added to each part. 

Word count: will be mentioned in each part. 476 for the prologue.

Listened to: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by One Direction

Taglist requests are closed!

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First of all, Happy birthday to Jungkook. Secondly, I finally grew enough balls to start another legit series after a damn year. And obviously it had to be angst. Hope you guys like this attempt of mine.

Disclaimers: Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

Chapters:- 

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Drabbles: Daydream, Incognito

Prologue under cut

“No. No. This is not true. This is not true.” Your murmur under your breath. Clenching your phone hard, you try to keep your breathing stable. 

“Calvin Kline Ambassador Jeon Jungkook is rumored to be dating actress Han Jiwon.” you read the headline again and then dive into the article. It explains how your boyfriend had been seen leaving his hotel with one of the most popular actresses of the industry. 

There is no mistake, it is Jungkook indeed. You would recognize his bunny features even in your deep sleep, no matter how many hats and masks he uses to conceal his identity. In the picture, he is tightly grasping the hands of the actress as both of them are caught by the camera. 

The picture was probably taken last month during Jungkook’s overseas schedule. He didn’t mention having a “friend” over there. He never mentioned anything about meeting Jiwon there. But again, he hardly ever mentions anything anymore. 

You put your phone upside down. Inhaling a deep breath, you shut your eyes. 

Your body feels heavy, your heart twists in a fear of uncovering a truth that will leave you broken, will leave you stranded on a lonely island all by yourself. 

You knew he was changing, you knew he was drifting apart, you know he doesn’t look at you with the same glint in his eyes. You know it all and yet you kept your fingers crossed. 

A tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp the lump that formed in your throat overtime. 

The door lock chimes in signaling someone has just punched the key-code. You know who it is but you stay in your place, eyes closed. 

Soft thud of foot-steps echo in your otherwise silent apartment. You still don’t budge. 

He slowly walks closer to your body, stands right beside you, and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“It is not what you think it is, Y/N” Jungkook speaks with a barely audible voice. 

“I know.” you reply while standing up from your seat. 

“I didn’t cheat.” he explains again. 

You come face to face with him. His face bears no sign of discomfort, pain or guilt. It’s just… blank. His eyes are so blank that you think he is actually sorry for not cheating on you. 

“I know.” you offer again. Walking forward towards your boyfriend, you wrap him in your embrace but… he doesn’t hug you back immediately. 

When he places his hands flat on your back, not totally wrapping you up the way he used to, you know it. You know it’s gone. 

The familiarity of his warmth, his scent, the feeling of being home, is gone. Even if your body is touching his, you know he is actually miles and miles away from you. And you have doubts if he is ever going to return or not.

--

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut #bts

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You attend your very first tourney in celebration of your brother or sister’s impending arrival. 

Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.

TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were lit—

“Ah,” Mama says. “Rhaenyra!”

From your place on the floor in the corner, right in the middle of a patch of sunlight, you see that ’Nyra has come. It’s not nice to have your story interrupted, but ’Nyra’s visits are always fun, so you don’t mind. She is dressed the way she does when she goes to visit Syrax, which means she will smell funny and make Mama cross.

“You know I don’t like you to go flying while I'm in this condition,” Mama adds.

“You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition.”

Alicent, ’Nyra’s best friend, stands in the doorway. She is very very pretty, you think, with red hair like Hana’s and a blue dress that makes her look like a girl from one of the old stories you like to listen to. “Your Grace,” she says, smiling.

“Good morrow, Alicent.” Mama sighs. She sounds very tired. She has put her coat back on, even though it’s so hot in the room and she’s fanning herself to try and dry the sweat on her cheeks and her brow.

“Did you sleep?” ’Nyra asks.

Mama laughs, quick and soft. “I slept.”

“How long?” ’Nyra takes a seat on the stool beside Mama’s feet.

“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”

“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”

That is when Mama’s eyes go to you. “I have my own right here, so there is no need to fear.”

’Nyra turns to look, too. Her frown goes away and she smiles, wiggling her fingers at you to say ‘hello’. Even though she’s your sister and that means you love her, you don’t go over to her. She is older, so she doesn’t care very much about dolls or stories or little sisters who don’t have dragons.

Mama keeps talking to ’Nyra while you listen. “You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the Realm.” None of it makes sense, but you like the sound of their voices.

’Nyra makes a rude noise. “I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”

Mama laughs. “We have royal wombs, you and your sister and I. The childbed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.”

Why would a child’s bed be a battlefield? My bed is nice and big. And what is a stiff lip? Is it something that Maester Mellos should give his herbs for? Are there bones in a lip? Can those bones break like big bones can?

You have lots of questions, but you don’t say what you’re thinking out loud, of course. The Maester only said you could be in here if you were good, so you mustn’t talk unless Mama asks you something or starts saying things to you.

“Now,” Mama says to ’Nyra, “take a bath. You stink of dragon.”

’Nyra stands up and bends down to kiss Mama on her head. Then, she comes over to you and gets on the floor so she can give you a hug and a kiss, and she is warm and smelly like Mama said she is. You like the smell, though, because it is what ’Nyra always smells like.

’Nyra leaves with Alicent, and for a while it is very calm. Mama takes a nap by closing her eyes and leaning with her head back, so you make sure to be very quiet when you continue telling yourself the story.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl called Hana. Hana was the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom, and she wore fancy dresses with gold and silver necklaces and rings, and she had a pearl hairnet in her red hair. There was also another girl called Marya who was very pretty too, but not as pretty as Hana. When Hana and Marya were little, they were best friends, and they played dolls and sang hymns and learned their letters together. But when they became older, they started to fight.

Marya was jealous of Hana. Lords from all over the kingdom wanted to marry her because of how pretty and how kind she was. That meant that not many lords wanted to marry Marya, even though she had lovely dark hair and knew all the names of the Houses and could sing even better than Hana did! So, Marya thought and thought about how she could make more lords want to marry her. She decided to hide all of Hana’s nicest dresses and shiniest jewels.

Naughty, naughty Marya. That’s not how proper ladies act. It was very nasty of you to—

“What are you and your ladies up to?”

You don’t like being interrupted for a second time, but it is Mama who is asking. Everyone’s been using soft voices since ’Nyra came to make a fuss and then left to wash the dragon-stink off. Mama’s question is louder than them all, so it must be for you.

Turning your head, you see that she is looking at you with a small smile.

“Marya hid Hana’s dresses and her best necklace and rings,” you say, holding her up high so Mama can see. You frown at the doll. “She needs to say sorry, so I’m telling her to.”

Mama laughs, but you don’t know why. “Oh, dear. How unkind of her! Why did Marya do such a thing?”

“All the lords want to marry Hana,” you say, “and not Marya. She’s very angry, but—but it’s not Hana’s fault. So I’m going to tell her that, too.”

“My, my.” Mama looks tired, like she has ever since baby Baelon-or-Visenya started growing in her belly, but she still seems happy that you’re here. Her eyes are warm the way they get when she sees you. “Quite a responsibility, you have.”

You nod. “I’m her Mama, like you’re mine. I have to teach her to be good.”

This makes Mama smile even wider. She holds her hand out to you, so you put Marya down beside Hana, making sure they’re not too close together. It would be bad if they started fighting after you’ve been busy telling Marya off so much. Making sure your skirts are neat like a proper lady, you go to take Mama’s hand, letting her pull you close-close so that you have to get up onto the daybed with her. Her skin is hot like fire is when you get too near it.

“Are you going to teach your little brother or sister to be good, too?” she asks, bringing your hand to her belly. When you touch it, you feel the kicking. It’s like a tapping from under a very thick blanket.

“Yes, Mama. I promise. I’ll sing all the hymns so they learn them, and make sure they eat all their supper, and—and say ‘no running’ and ‘no hitting’ and give them lots of hugs and tell—tell them they are naughty if they don’t liste—”

“Well,” she says even louder, smiling so wide you can see her teeth, “you already sound like a wonderful big sister, my dearest.”

Then, a new voice speaks out from the doorway, catching your interest. “Hakorje mandia kesā, sīlāvose.”

It’s one of your favourite people in the whole world.

You scramble out of Mama’s hold, nearly tripping over your dress. “Kepus!”

He chuckles as you race toward him, arm out so that he can catch you and lift you up. Mama hasn’t been able to do that since her belly became big, and Papa is too busy now. Oh, how you’ve missed it!

Uncle Daemon sits you on his hip so that you can stare straight at his face, at the way his eyes scrunch up with how much his mouth stretches. “What about you, Princess? Have you been a good girl since last I saw you?” he asks.

“I’m always good, kepus,” you say, pushing out your bottom lip to show how rude you think his question is. “But—but you haven’t. You’re naughty. You’ve been gone for so, so, so long!”

Even though his brow raises, he sounds like he finds you funny. “Ah-ah. A moon’s turn, nothing more or less, is all the time I’ve spent away. I was here for your name day celebrations, was I not?”

“That was ages ago!”

There were lots of people in the Keep for the party, and you don’t think you really knew most of them. But, because Papa is King and you are a Princess, they were invited to come and wish you a happy name day and give you gifts and eat and drink lots. It was nice at first, but the more they ate and drank, the louder they got, and soon you had to sneak off and find Uncle so that he could take you back to your rooms where it was quiet. He sang a song in High Valyrian, the language that your House has spoken for thousands of years, so that you could fall asleep even after eating so many little frosted cakes. Soon, you had to say farewell to him because he had to go back to Runestone and visit his lady wife, the one he hate-hates but Mama says he has to see.

Thinking about High Valyrian makes you stop. You can’t speak it, but there are some parts you know. Kicking Uncle in the side for being rude, you say, “And—and I’m not ann—annoying. I’m good!”

He looks sorry when you say that. “Of course you are. And I hope you’ll forgive me for returning after such a long time.” Behind his back where you can’t see is his other arm. He brings it out, showing you what he was hiding in his hand.

Oh! A new doll! And this one is special because it has pale hair and purple eyes just like you!

“Please accept this as a token of my apology, sweetling,” Uncle Daemon says, offering it to you. “Perhaps—Marya and Hana, was it?—could do with another friend.”

“Thank you, kepus!” Keeping your new doll pinned between you and Uncle, you wrap your arms around his neck so so tight and squeeze so he can feel how happy you are! You kiss him on the cheek, wiggling very close and smiling when he squeezes you back just as tight. “Thank you, thank you! I missed you so much!”

“Silly girl.”

Uncle pats you on the back once, twice, and then crouches down so that you can stand on your own two feet again. Sometimes, this makes you sad, because his hugs are your favourite and you wish they would never end. But he has to say ‘hello’ to Mama, too. Besides, you have a new lady to introduce!

“How about you play,” he says, “while I speak with Mama?”

“Okay!” You’re already thinking about it anyway.

When you go back to Marya and Hana, you can see that they’ve been good girls and not moved at all. You rearrange them both so that they are sitting, and place your new doll—Alysanne, you decide, after Papa and Uncle’s grandmama—between them, fussing with their hair so that it lies neatly. They are very pretty, you think, red and dark and silver all together.

“And how is Lady Rhea?” Mama is asking, brow lifting.

Uncle makes a noise and curls his lip meanly. “Who the fuck—who cares?” he says, rolling his eyes when you gasp. He said a bad word. “It’s not as though we spent any time in each other’s presence. Think I’d rather the company of sheep, anyway.”

“You were there for an entire moon’s turn, Daemon”—Mama frowns the way she does when ’Nyra says something rude, and ’Nyra does that a lot—“and you refused to even speak with her? She’s your wife.”

“Not one I chose. You would know that all too well, cousin.”

Mama goes quiet, looking to you. Uncle does, too. Then, she starts whispering to Uncle, and Uncle whispers back, and you return to your game.

Dolls make far more sense than people do.

You don’t like tourneys. You don’t like them at all.

It’s loud, and hot, and there are too many smells—of different perfumes all swirling around and clogging in your nose, of dirt and manure from the ground below, of something sharp that clings to the walls that box you in and shield you from being able to see anything interesting. The horns ring out and so many people cheer that it feels like a buzzing in your head. It makes your teeth hurt.

“Be welcome!”

Papa looks happy today, so much happier than he was the last time Mama said a babe was in her belly. That babe was dead, she told you. It went away from inside her and never came back. That’s what death is, and everyone is very, very afraid of it all the time. But you didn’t know that babe like you know Mama and Papa and ’Nyra and Uncle, so you weren’t sad or scared. You wonder if this babe will go away, too.

The sound of clapping is like thunder. “I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games,” he says. “But I promise, you will not be disappointed.”

You watch from beside Papa as ’Nyra sneaks to her seat, but she is not so sneaky because she is wearing a bright red dress that looks beautiful. She sits beside Alicent, her friend and Lord Hightower’s daughter, and tries to make herself small in her chair so that Papa won’t get angry.

After a pause, he keeps speaking. “When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share—Queen Aemma has begun her labours!”

There is so much noise that you have to hold your hands over your ears to quiet it just a little bit. Brella pats your shoulder, trying to make you feel better.

“It’s alright, Princess. We can play in just a moment—how about that?”

“I want Mama,” you say sadly, your bottom lip wobbling and your eyes feeling hot like they do when you really want to cry.

Mama has been locked in her chambers since last evening, when the Maester said the babe was nearly ready to come out. You asked and asked Papa, but he wouldn’t let you in to see her. When the door had opened and you tried to go inside, you were too surprised to move at the sound of her yelling. You think that the babe must have been hurting her very, very much. It makes you afraid. But then, Uncle took you away to your rooms and read you a story in High Valyrian, which sounded nice even though you didn’t understand it all.

“May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!” You are not listening to Papa’s words very closely.

“Soon, Princess,” Brella says, stopping for a moment when the horns echo out again. “You must wait for the babe to be born, first. How exciting—a new little brother, all for you!”

You don’t want a brother if it means that Mama has to be in pain. Papa would be very happy—you are three whole name days but you still know he wants the babe to be a boy and not a girl, that you were supposed to be a boy and he was sad you were only a second daughter—but you are happy with the way things are.

It would be very rude to say so in front of Papa, so you keep quiet and nod, letting your nursemaid bring you off your seat and down to the floor so that you may sit amongst Alysanne and Hana and Marya.

It has been very difficult to teach Marya to be nice to Alysanne, because she doesn’t like it when Hana makes new friends and Alysanne is a very pretty new friend. But she has decided she rather likes Alysanne after all, and so you can serve their tea without being scared of anyone being silly or bad to each other. Brella is very helpful in braiding Marya’s hair to look like ’Nyra’s does, and then she pins Hana’s back like Alicent’s. You decide that Alysanne should have hair that looks like yours because you look nearly the same, like she is your baby and you are her mama.

You are interrupted very quickly when Septa Marlow bends forward to speak straight into Brella’s ear. “It is unseemly to coddle her so. She is nearing the end of her infancy—you ought to be preparing her to pass over into my care, not indulging in frivolities!”

You shiver. Septa Marlow is mean. The last time that ’Nyra said something rude to her, she was rapped across the palm by Septa’s willow switch. It left a bright red mark that made you cry when you saw it, but ’Nyra only muttered something nasty under her breath and smiled in a not-very-kind way. You wish you could be as brave as her.

“When she is five summers old, she will pass into your care,” Brella says. It is polite, but the way she looks at Septa makes you think she is not being so nice after all. “Until then, I shall do as I see fit. And that means allowing the Princess to indulge in these frivolities while she can.”

Septa wants to say something rude back, you can tell—but then, the whispers start. It makes you look out onto the field so that you can see what’s happening.

“… of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!”

Uncle rides out on his horse—a great stallion named Varlet that you sometimes give apples to if he is very, very good and doesn’t buck anyone out of the saddle—wearing his nicest armour with the tail of feathers that comes out of the helmet. You think it makes him look a bit like a bird from one of those old books in the library. Uncle takes Varlet up and down the line of men on their own horses, but you don’t know why. You cannot see his face.

Your dolls don’t seem very exciting anymore. You pass them back to Brella and move past Papa to where ’Nyra sits at the very front. Even though there is an empty seat next to Alicent, you go to ’Nyra anyway.

All you have to do is hold up your arms to her and she smiles. “Do you want to see Uncle’s bout?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. You can hear the sound of hooves on the dirt, which means you are missing it, so you stamp your feet and wiggle. Maybe she will hurry up if you do. “Please, please!”

“Oh, alright.” She rolls her eyes and lifts you up so that you can sit on her lap, tucking her head next to yours and wrapping her arms tight around you so you don’t fall off. She is warm like Caraxes and Syrax are, like a dragon, only this time she doesn’t smell like smoke and rotting meat but like flowers and soap. “Can you see?”

You look down. Uncle is at one end of the field and the man he has chosen—Ser Gwayne, you think, from the green he has on and the funny shape of his helmet, like a tower—on the other, their jousting poles held out in front of them. “I can see,” you say.

When Uncle and Ser Gwayne start riding, you really do try to keep your eyes open. But, as they get closer and closer, you cannot help but shut them because you don’t want to see anyone get hurt, or worse­—the horses. Sometimes, it happens. All you can see is the insides of your eyelids when a big CLANG happens, but ’Nyra doesn’t clap so you think it might not be finished yet. Then, you hear a horse neigh and a big thud, and lots of applause. This time, ’Nyra does clap, so you open your eyes and see that Uncle is still on Varlet but Ser Gwayne is on the ground.

Your sister stops clapping when she sees Alicent with her hand over her mouth. Ser Gwayne is her brother, so she must be very worried for him. You reach out and pat her arm, which makes her stop and stare at you for a moment before giving you a small smile. ’Nyra grabs at her hand, too, which seems to help.

Uncle brings Varlet right up to the balcony with his jousting pole all the way up high, so ’Nyra puts you down and grips your shoulder to steer you forward. You are still very small, so the railing is too tall for you to reach, and that means you could fall very easily if you lean too far down. You grab onto your sister’s skirts.

“Nicely done, Uncle,” she says, holding onto the rail.

“Thank you, Princess.” Uncle looks at you, and his face changes—he is friendly now where he wasn’t exactly when he was looking at ’Nyra. He doesn’t say anything to you, but he does wink, which makes you giggle and him smile. He turns to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favour would all but assure it.”

She goes toward the table where two wreaths lay, one for her and one for ’Nyra. You are not old enough for your own yet, or so Papa says. Taking the green one in her fingers, she comes back to the balcony. Instead of putting the wreath on the jousting pole, though, she holds it out to you. “Perhaps your niece would like to give you my favour?”

Beaming, you accept the wreath and let Alicent pick you up under the arms. It doesn’t feel very nice, but it makes you tall enough to put the favour over the pole and watch it slide all the way down to the bottom, near where Uncle is holding it. He grins, then rides away to have another bout.

’Nyra takes you back to where she was sitting, placing you back on her knee. “Are you going to thank Alicent? She was very nice, letting you give Uncle her favour.”

“Thank you, Alicent,” you say.

She brushes some of your hair out of your eyes. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

You find it strange when Papa rises from his chair after something Lord Hightower says in his ear, a troubled look on his face. He was the one who had been the most excited about the tourney, so why is he getting up to leave?

’Nyra doesn’t notice, holding tight to you when you start squirming. For a while, you stay with her—but the jousting starts to get frightening. When the knights knock each other off their horses, they start using swords and axes and maces and trying to really hurt each other, striking and kicking so hard that it makes your heart race really fast in your chest and your belly rock like it does when you need to be sick. To take your mind off it, you start listening to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys talking to each other.

“…and we expect them to act with honour and grace,” the Princess is saying to her husband. The sound of her voice makes you shiver a little. Whenever she stares at you, it is unkind. You don’t think she likes you very much. “It’s a marvel that war didn't break out at first blood.”

Everyone gasps when the knight below brings his axe down on the man below him, hitting him over and over so that blood sprays everywhere. The man twitches at first, then goes still, the dirt below him turning dark red very quickly.

You cry and cry, loud and ugly. You don’t like it here anymore. You want to go back to the Keep and find Mama and let her hug you until this cold, awful feeling goes away and warmth and happiness comes back.

“Nurse!” ’Nyra says, but you aren’t really listening. You can see that people are pointing at you from the stands and whispering, which makes you even more upset because you truly tried to be good and quiet and not make a fuss this time.

“Oh, Princess.” Brella lifts you off of ’Nyra’s lap and carries you to the back of the royal box, past Papa’s Councilmen and all the lords and ladies that are gathered, heading toward the stairs. “Come now, my sweet. Time for a nap, don’t you think?”

“I want Mama,” is all you can say. “I want my mama!”

It is darker than normal when you wake up from your nap. Usually, the sun is still up, the colour of Papa’s crown as it shines through your window, hot and blinding even though supper is not far away. But now, you have to blink a few times before you realise that you cannot see because night has come.

Your chambers are empty, save one other.

“Papa?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning. You can just barely see him through the shadows. “What—what—”

There is a sharp clack and a fizzle of orange fire, which Papa cups in his hand and takes to the candle beside your bed. As he lights a small flame, you look at his face. Even in the darkness, you can see how sad he is, the shine that forms lines down his cheeks and the red puff of the skin around his eyes.

Oh, no. Something bad has happened. Something… something terrible.

“Whe—where’s Mama?” you ask, voice wobbly. It feels like a hand has reached down through your throat and your stomach to peel your insides out, to turn it all over so that you’re bleeding and broken where the Maester cannot see. “Mama—”

“Sh, my girl.” He is trying to sound soft and kind, but you hear how he cracks a little, how the words seem almost stuck on the tip of his tongue. “Listen to me. Come here.”

You still don’t know why it is, but the rule of life is that you obey ’Nyra who obeys Mama who obeys Papa, which means that you have to obey Mama and Papa even when the others aren’t there. So, when Papa asks you to do something, you have to listen. You’re a good girl, after all.

Kicking away the covers that have made you too-too warm, you crawl on your hands and knees to the edge of the bed where Papa sits. He is solid and real under your fingers, smelling like the Maester’s medicines as always, but also like something sour. Like metal.

He grabs you and puts you on his knee like ’Nyra did before, during the tourney, only the hand on your back is large-large, almost covering from your neck to your bottom. You can feel his thumb moving up and down as he speaks, up and down, up and down.

“Something… something has happened. To Mama,” he says, taking lots of pauses and shaking under you like he is cold. You reach up to pat his face. Your hand comes away wet.

“Is she okay?” you ask. That horrible feeling comes back, and you have to swallow so that you don’t get sick all over Papa. “Where is Mama?”

“Mama… she couldn’t bring the babe out. A boy—Baelon.” This time, you can hear him cry, but it’s quick, not long and loud like yours.

A brother. I have a baby brother. It doesn’t feel very special or interesting. Maybe meeting the babe will make you more excited?

“Where is he?”

Papa cries more. “He… he lived for three hours. Three. Then he—”

“—died.” That’s the word for when someone goes through death. Papa didn’t look like he could say it, but you can. “Sorry,” you tell him quietly. You know how much he wanted a boy. “Mama must be sad, too.”

“She—she—Mama didn’t survive the birth.”

You frown. What does that mean? “So… she is sick?”

Papa shakes his head, eyes scrunching. “No.”

“Where is she, then? I want to say ‘sorry’ to her, too.”

“She—died. She’s dead, my girl. Only, she passed before Baelon.”

You have to stop and really think, think so hard that your head hurts and you feel dizzy from holding your breath. Being dead means going away and never coming back. Mama is dead. Which means…

After Papa says those terrible, awful, horrible words, he pushes his nose into your hair and hugs you so so tight until you feel his tears sliding over your head. You hug him back, pressing your face to his chest and letting his shirt soak up all the crying from your eyes. You don’t know if you understand it all—but you know one thing for certain, one thing that makes you cold and sick and afraid.

Mama went away. Mama will never come back.

Mama is gone.

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123751342

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[rorywritesjunk]

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.” 

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth. 

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you. 

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

~

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke. 

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone. 

Except that was expecting too much. 

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.” 

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you? 

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance. 

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

[keysorsomething]

Before the Sun Rises / Caught

1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | 7

The double feature chapters I wrote :) Just wanna say thanks to everyone who's supported these fics, it makes me very happy to see all the likes and reblogs !!

Cross-posted on ao3

Before the Sun Rises

You awake the next morning with no pressure on your chest and nothing in your arms. Still half-asleep, you look around the room. You’re disoriented, like when you take a three-hour nap in the middle of a weekday and wake up covered in sweat and unaware of the concept of time. One thing you catch is that the room is still dark, but you would guess that it’s always dark in here. You haven’t seen a window, after all. You start to rub the sleep from your eyes, fighting a yawn as you try to find the man who seems to have disappeared into the night. Melting into the darkness, as he had each time before.

“Nikto?” You ask, sitting up. Or at least you try, before strong hands meet your shoulders and shove you back into the pillow. You spot his blue eyes staring down at you almost ridiculing, clearly not pleased with your attempt to get out of bed. It’s almost startling, the speed and force with which you’re slammed back, not the hardest you had been slammed into something, but it was sure lacking any form of gentle grace you would expect from the motion. In this context at least. But you’re too tired to really think about the strength in him like you had before or to think about how he had seemingly teleported into your sight and personal space with no sign of where he was prior.

“Stay,” Nikto’s voice growls out. You look up at him, confused and groggy. He lowers himself back on the bed, and then back onto your chest. “I was not done,” He huffs, taking the sleeve of your shirt between two fingers. He pulls on the fabric, turning it over in his hand. His eyes narrow at it, as if your sleeve had offended him.

“Okay,” You mumble, letting your eyes fall back shut. You spend a while like that, enjoying it. Laying on your back with him on your chest, feeling the gentle pull of his hand as he busies himself with your shirt sleeve. It’s a moment of peace, expanded when he stops pulling at your sleeve - it was actually kind of annoying - and instead, his hand rests on your bicep, unmoving. He lets out a soft sigh, and you assume he closed his eyes too. Your breathing synchronizes, as your hand goes back to rubbing his shoulders like you had been doing the night before.

“You will come back tonight,” He states firmly, breaking the shared moment of silence. Your eyes shoot open and your hands pause, unsure how exactly to respond. You did want to come back again. Hell, you wanted to move in with him. You dare to even think you want the world to melt away, for time to be this moment and this moment alone, always and forever, but should you really let him boss you around like that? Should you just agree? Should you agree enthusiastically, with a ‘yes, sir!’? Or do you say no on principle?

“Can you ask nicely?” In a patronizing tone is what comes out of your mouth instead. Like a mom talking to a toddler who just demanded ice cream or something. You don’t have many references for modern-day parenting in the army. Maybe you shouldn’t compare those two things, that was kind of weird. But it wasn’t mansplaining patronizing - and you knew mansplaining, since that was the only thing that came out of Graves’ mouth - it was the other kind. You had no other words for it.

Nikto groans, presumably rolling his eyes, “You will please visit us again tonight,” He corrects, but he doesn’t seem all too happy about it. “пожалуйста?” He breaks out the big guns. How do you deny a masked man who’s speaking in his mother tongue? It may be your biggest weakness.

You sigh, conceding, “Okay. I will,” And he lets out a pleased rumble. A sound you could very much get used to.

“Now go back to sleep,” He huffs grumpily. “пожалуйста..?” You almost listen instantly, but then another thought pops into your head.

“What time is it?” You ask, the thought of being caught once more nagging at the very back of your psyche. He lets out another less-than-pleased huff of a breath at you, this time through his nose. But, hey, is he really blaming you for worrying about both your careers? His head shifts so his eyes meet yours better, and you see a small smudge of eye black left over from him watching it on his right eyelid, hugging the lash line. It almost looks like eyeliner. You also see the curve of his nose. That is skin that is clearly scarred, looking like it would be rough to touch. Healed burns, probably. Chemical burns that stretch over from the right of his face. You aren’t too sure how the mask is doing that, as all of the points where it attaches to the blast plate seem intact, and it’s only a small dip from where it normally sits. You decide not to comment on it, however.

“Early. Four-fifty or so,” He replies firmly. “I would not let you overstay your welcome,” His words are aggressive in phrasing but soft in tone. An odd combo he seems to use often, which you can’t be sure if that is just him or because he isn’t a native English speaker. But, his brows soften too, his hand sliding up but hesitating to make contact with your face or hair. It retreats away. When you look into his eyes, you feel like he wants nothing more than to touch you, and you feel he agrees that this moment is ever so precious. But he doesn’t want to touch you. Perhaps he’s afraid, or perhaps he doesn’t like his face being touched, so he won’t touch yours. The Golden Rule and all that. But you still smile softly down at him, gently rubbing his back. A silent encouragement to do as he pleases, one that is not listened too. After just a beat, you speak again. There’s no point in making the fleeting movement a whole ordeal.

“Well, wake me up when I have,” You tell him, trying to keep your voice low and comforting, the way he likes. He nods in response, eyes staring up at you warily. You both share for a moment the fear of being found out, but you don’t voice it to him. And he does not voice it back.

“Of course,” Nitko mumbles, sliding back into the position he was before your question. You chuckle, wrapping your arms tight around him as he matches the gesture, and lean your head into his. You take a deep breath, letting the whole moment sink into you. The warmth and weight of the man on your chest, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of the cold, hard blast plate against your cheek. It’s all the best thing to ever happen in this place, and you have a feeling it’s the best thing to have ever happened to him.

You sigh, it's nice to share this moment with him. Every moment over the past few days had been precious. You let your head fall back - you had been keeping it up to look at him - but keep your eyes on him as best you can. You still your hand on his back, letting your arm fall limp. He shifts his head slightly on your chest, fully committed to using you as a pillow. The image of him and his peacefully rising chest is wiped away by your eyes falling back shut.

---

Caught

You reawaken to a soft patting of a gloved hand on your cheek. Your eyes open to Nikto just a few inches from his face, his hand gently twapping your cheek to wake you up. You groan, your muscles stretching as best you can under the weight.

“It is time you leave,” He mumbles, but you can see the disappointment in his eyes. “You do not have much time to get back to the barracks before the rest wake up.”

You pout, blinking up at him, “…How come you get a room all to yourself? It’s not fair,” You mumble, closing your eyes. His bed was so much more comfortable than your cot. And it was so much better than sleeping in a room with multiple other people. Just you and him. There’s a moment where you desire much more of this. So much more of this, in a much more domestic manner, but that fantasy is short-lived by a second round of pats on your cheek that don’t relent until your eyes open back up.

“It was a specific request,” Nikto replied, eyes narrowed on you as he tries to keep you from falling back asleep. As always, they are an icy blue that doesn’t match the feeling of having them on you at all. But by now they feel so much cooler than before, like a warm hug or a heated blanket instead of a hot iron. “I told them I would not take the job if they did not accommodate me.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes with a huff. That makes sense, you think. He seems like the guy to do that. Your eye opens now that your hand isn’t over it, and he hasn’t moved. Something a part of you deep inside is grateful for. You don’t know how well you could cope if he was gone just like that. Like how he had appeared earlier. That thought doesn’t last long, none of them do. He was just so much to think about. His eyes are wide, wild as they look down at you. He seems to think that you’re a lot to think about too. Or perhaps you’re assigning that to him, like when people speak for dogs and cats. You’ve been doing that with him a lot more often since that night in the armory. His eyes get a little less wide, and then even less wide. Until his eyes look closed, but you can tell they’re still partly open. God, he has pretty eyelashes.

He then, all at once, presses his still-masked face into yours. The fabric of the mask covering his mouth is rough against your lips. There’s no movement under it, almost as if he’s just smooshing his lips into yours like he isn’t sure how to do it. You feel the cold metal of the blast plate pushing into your forehead like a headache. It almost hurts, but there’s no way it’s enough. Somehow being too much and too little, but not just right. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek, but you don’t get the chance too. You didn’t even get the chance to close your eyes or lean into the kiss. It’s gone all at once, the same way it came. The pressure on your chest where he was laying there, on your forehead where the protruding parts of the metal dug into your skull, the rough fabric almost painfully hot on the skin of your lips, all of it. He pulls away before you can fully process it, before you can take it in for all of its glory. He rolls off of you, laying on the bed next to you facing away, partly curled up. You have to take a moment before you can do anything. You just kissed the Nikto. No, you were just kissed by The Nikto.

“Nikto?” You ask, voice soft and wavering, like if you speak too loud you’ll create a rip in space-time and it will have never happened. He cuts you off before you get any more in.

“Go,” He responds gruffly, and you nod, pulling off the bed. You’re a little stunned, and you do have places to be. You’d be worried that he was upset with you, but you have a feeling he’s just processing it, the same as you. Maybe he’s worried you’re upset with him? You almost feel like you need to cover up, and are subconsciously pulling the covers with you as you try to. You notice when you almost trip, but you catch yourself and throw them back on the bed. You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself before speaking. And before leaving. You had appearances to keep up once you got back to the barracks and you had the three musketeers riding your dick.

“Okay,” You squeak, backing away. Your voice sounds so much more pathetic than you wanted it too, and you really can’t be having that. “See you tonight,” You say very quickly, hoping he’ll know you aren’t upset with him. You then promptly spin on your heels, and swing the door open. You go to step out of the room when you come face to face with a chest. You look up with a soft curse, only to find judging blue eyes staring back at yours from under a makeshift mask. The eyes are hard, angry. You’re in trouble.

“Oh, good morning, Colonel,” You manage to get out through a panicked breath. His arm is raised, you had interrupted him mid-knock. He lowers it, and it’s easy to tell his scowling down at you, eyes narrowing further. He bends slightly at the waist, and you hear the fabric shift and Nikto starts to speak when the room behind you goes silent. König looks behind you, and then back down at you, inching ever closer.

Then, you hear your voice hissed through teeth, a heavy Austrian accent filling your ears.

#call of duty #nikto cod #cod mw2 #nikto x reader #nikto #cod nikto

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | three

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

Chapter Summary: When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Status: completed!

Word Count: 11,9K

Warnings: slight angst, ‘friendzoned’, smut; protected penetration, fingering, nipple and breast play, handjob, dirty talk. Yoongi’s sister also deserves a warning 🫢

Author’s note: We’re halfway there 🎉 I actually wanted to put more stuff into this chapter, but I’m striving for 10-12K word each chapter, so I had to leave some things out and put it in the next chapter, because the smut scene got too long 🫢 I hope you won’t mind, and I promise there will be more smut coming 😇

+ I'm currently editing chapter 4 and going to write ch 5+6 as soon as I can! I'm currently going to be moving (we bought our first house wuhu!), so I'll be moving the next 14 days I think. So I don't know how much writing I'll get done, but I hope to get some time here and there. Also - what are you thinking about JK's 3D?????

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :(

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

Saying goodbye to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung was like ripping a piece of your heart out, but the promise of a reunion after your vacation kept your spirits high. 

Now, as you drive with Yoongi to a campsite on the outskirts of Daegu, your excitement bubbles up. The campsite seems like a hidden gem with its inviting lake, and the surrounding lush greenery. 

You can hardly wait to explore this tranquil haven and create new memories with Yoongi.

As the midday sun bathes the campsite in a warm glow, you and Yoongi decide to make your way to the nearby lake. The tranquil waters beckon, promising a peaceful escape from the world. 

You set up your stools by the shore, ready to indulge in some quality relaxation. While you lose yourself in the pages of your book, Yoongi immerses himself in his music, creating a harmonious blend of serenity and melody. 

The hours slip away like gentle waves, leaving you feeling connected to nature and each other in this idyllic setting. As your stomach playfully rumbles, a symphony of hunger, Yoongi gallantly offers to take charge of dinner. 

With a charming smile, he heads back to Holly to kindle a campfire and whip up a delightful meal. The crackling flames and the aroma of cooking food fill the air, creating an enticing atmosphere. 

You, however, are completely engrossed in your book, the words transporting you to another world, oblivious to the tantalizing scents and sounds of Yoongi’s culinary adventure.

Each bite of Yoongi’s mouthwatering meal is a taste of perfection, a savory delight that lingers on your taste buds. You savor every mouthful, fully aware that you’ll miss these delectable moments once your vacation comes to an end. 

As the two of you dine, conversation flows naturally, going from plans in Daegu to the exciting prospect of meeting Yoongi’s family. The anticipation of meeting his family excites you, but also gives you some anxiety, but overall you eagerly look forward to the connection you’ll make with them and you’re sure they are very nice people.

Under the moonlit sky, you find yourself nestled in Yoongi’s warm embrace once more. 

His arms wrap around you protectively, creating an intimate cocoon where the world outside fades into insignificance. The sensation of his breath against your neck, his heart beating in sync with yours, makes this moment feel like an enchanting dream. 

Your heart flutters with each whispered word of affection, and as sleep starts to claim you both, you can’t help but smile, knowing that these tender nights will be cherished memories to hold onto.

The first light of dawn bathes Holly in a soft, gentle glow, revealing Yoongi’s peaceful expression as he stirs awake. 

But what truly captures his attention is the unmistakable hardness pressing against him, demanding attention and relief. 

It’s the hardest he has ever been in the morning. 

He can’t help but chuckle at the idea that your subconscious moans have left such a powerful effect on him. Gently, he tries to shift and extricate himself without waking you, although the bulge in his boxers isn’t making it easy. 

As he carefully moves, he can’t help but wonder how you might react if you were to wake up and discover the delightful predicament you’ve caused him. 

He decides to settle back into your embrace.

Yoongi’s fingers dance softly across your face, tracing the contours of your features as you gradually rouse from your slumber. His touch is as delicate as a whispered promise, making your sleepy senses come alive. 

You’re met with the sensation of his warm breath, brushing against your nape like a secret he’s sharing only with you. As your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see is the affectionate glint in his gaze. It’s a look that tells you he’s been awake for a while, lost in the quiet moments of the morning, his thoughts consumed by you. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but offer him a soft sleepy smile in return.

You let out a contented hum as you snuggle further into his embrace, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against your backside. A mischievous grin curls onto your lips, and you can’t resist the urge to tease him gently. 

“Someone is certainly eager this morning,” you playfully murmur, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. Your laughter dances through the air like a sweet melody, intertwining with the warmth of the morning sun.

His warm breath tickles your ear as he continues to nuzzle you, and you feel his dick pressing more firmly against you, “You’re so damn irresistible, and your sleep moaning is such a turn on.”

His words, whispered with a hint of desire, send a thrilling shiver down your spine. You can’t help but let out a sultry chuckle in response. “Well, I guess I can’t control what I do in my sleep,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful seduction. 

The intimate atmosphere between you two grows more charged with each passing moment, and you can feel the anticipation building in the air.

“I want you, babe,” his seductive whisper in your ear ignites a fiery desire within you, and you find it increasingly difficult to control your own desires. You shift beneath his touch, your body responding eagerly to his proximity, and the rush of arousal intensifies, making your senses tingle with anticipation.

“I want you too Yoongi.” 

You reply in a breathy, lustful tone, unable to resist the temptation that he presents. As you confess your desire, you can see the hunger in his eyes intensify. You turn to face him fully, your lips hovering just a breath away from his. 

With a playful smile, you close the gap between you, pressing your mouth against his in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. His lips are soft and plush, and the electric sensation that courses through your body is undeniable. 

His hands start to explore your body, tracing the curves and contours with a gentle yet fervent touch, as your kiss deepens, growing more passionate with each passing moment.

With a primal growl, Yoongi shifts his position, rising up on his hands and knees, his body poised above yours. 

His dark, blown-out pupils are a testament to the intense desire that courses through him, like a tempestuous storm ready to consume everything in its path. You can feel the raw power radiating from him, and it sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. 

His every movement is deliberate and calculated, his gaze locked onto yours with an unwavering intensity. In this moment, you are captivated by the sheer magnetism of his presence, and the air crackles with an electrifying tension.

“You’re so hot,” as your fingers thread through his soft long hair, you pull his irresistibly handsome face down towards yours, the urgency of your desire evident in your touch. 

Your lips meet in a searing kiss, a passionate collision of pent-up emotions and longing. The heat between you intensifies, and your tongues engage in a tantalizing dance, their movements mirroring the unspoken desires that have simmered beneath the surface for far too long.

Each kiss is a revelation, a testament to the magnetic pull you share, igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second. Every brush of his lips against yours sends sparks of electricity coursing through your veins, and you can’t help but moan into this mouth, your body arching towards his in a silent plea for more.

The exquisite friction between your clothed core and this throbbing dick sends shockwaves of desire through your body. 

Your arousal has reached a fever pitch, and the anticipation is driving you to the brink of madness. With every tantalizing brush of his hard cock against your wetness, your craving for him intensifies to the point where you feel like you might lose all control. 

Each moment feels like an eternity as you yearn for him to be inside you, to fill the aching void that only he can satisfy. The tension in the air crackles with unrestrained lust, and you can hardly contain the feral need building within you. 

Your body, slick and eager, practically begs for his touch.

Your fingers glide sensually across his pectorals, reveling in his contours of his well-defined chest. The contrast between the hard planes of his chest and the inviting softness of his tummy is a tantalizing paradox, a testament to his rugged yet gentle allure. His physique, sculpted by his profession, holds an alluring mix of strength and vulnerability, and you find yourself drawn to the balance of power and tenderness that he embodies.

As your fingertips explore every inch of his skin, you savor the texture of his body, delighting in the warmth and smoothness of his flesh. 

With a passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless, you convey your burning desire. Breaking the kiss, you lock eyes with him, your voice dripping with irresistible temptation. 

“If you don’t fuck me soon,” you purr, batting your eyelashes teasingly at him, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Your words hang in the air like a sultry promise, igniting a fierce hunger in his eyes. 

“Patience, babe,” he chuckles, his fingers leaving a fiery trail down your body, tracing the contours of your curves beneath his oversized shirt and your snug shorts you’re wearing.

His touch is a delicate torment, making your skin and your breath hitch. Each caress ignites a new wave of longing within you, intensifying your craving for him.

“I don’t get how you’re this patient,” you tease, your voice dripping with desire. “I’ve never seen a dick that incredibly hard before. It seems really painful. Don’t you want release?” as you speak, you seductively buck your hips, grinding your crotch against his, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from his.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs casually, his eyes locked on your body. 

He tugs at your shirt, grabbing the edges and pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. As he unveils your soft breasts, he licks his lips in pleasure, his gaze fixed on the sight before him. Without hesitation, he reaches out, his fingers lightly caressing the sides of your breasts.

“Damn, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, a hint of awe in his voice as he gives them a gentle squeeze. His desire is evident as he continues, “I didn’t get to appreciate these beautiful tits yesterday.” 

With those words, he lowers his head to one of your breasts, closing his mouth around a nipple that he sucks with a tantalizing rhythm, coaxing it to alertness. His actions send shivers down your spine, and your body quivers in response to his skillful touch.

Your moan escapes your lips in a breathy, wanton melody as he continues his relentless assault on your sensitive breasts. His skilled mouth lavishes attention on one nipple while his hand works its magic on the other, pulling and pinching the now hard bud. 

Each sensation sources through you like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure radiating from your chest to every corner of your body. 

“Fuck!” 

Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your heart racing in tandem with the fervent rhythm building inside you. Each touch, each kiss, each tug of his lips and flick of his tongue sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your veins. The intensity of the sensations threatens to consume you as your desire ignites into an uncontrollable blaze. 

“Yoongi,” you moan his name like a prayer, your voice heavy with longing and urgency. Every fiber of your being is ablaze with a potent cocktail of yearning, pleasure and anticipation. You can hardly contain the rising tide of ecstasy that threatens to drown you in its overwhelming embrace.

His relentless devotion to your pleasure is nothing short of intoxicating. As he shifts his focus to your neglected breast, his lips and tongue work their magic, creating a symphony of sensations that reverberate through your entire body. The contrast between the warm, wet caresses of his mouth and the delicious friction of his fingers on your other nipple sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy. 

You arch your back, offering yourself to him, a willing canvas for his passionate artistry. Each flicker of his tongue, each gentle bite, each tantalizing suckle draws you closer to the precipice of pleasure. Your fingers clutch at the sheets, desperately seeking purchase.

Every nerve in your body is humming with electric desire, and your senses are heightened to an almost unbearable level. Yoongi’s skilled ministrations on your breasts send waves of pleasure crashing through you, but you yearn for more, aching for the ultimate release that’s tantalizingly close.

“I’m close!” 

Your words tumble from your lips in breathless desperation, your voice a symphony of need as you cling to the precipice of ecstasy.

“Touch yourself, babe.” 

His husky command sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as your fingers hesitates for a moment. 

The van seems to pulse with electric anticipation as you slide your trembling hand between your thighs, your fingers finding their way to the wet heat between your legs. The room is charged with an electrifying tension as your right hand ventures lower, sliding beneath your shorts and panties. 

A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine as your fingertips make contact with your already slick and throbbing clit. 

“Ah!” With a sharp intake of breath, you begin to caress the sensitive bud in slow, tantalizing circles. Each touch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, drawing out sweet sighs and breathy moans from your trembling lips.

As you continue your fervent exploration, Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on you, a mix of desire and adoration in his eyes. 

Every gasp, every whimper, every sultry moan that escapes your lips is like music to his ears, stoking the flames of his desire. He watches your pleasure intensify, your body aching and writhing in response to your own ministrations. 

The sight of you on the precipice of ecstasy, with flushed cheeks and tousled hair, ignited a primal hunger within him. His own arousal throbs painfully, but despite the overwhelming urge to claim you, he exercises restraints, driven by an unspoken desire to ensure your pleasure takes precedence. He wants nothing more than to witness you unravel in the most euphoric release, to be the catalyst of your satisfaction.

With each passing moment, he can sense your climax drawing nearer. Your breath quickens, your movement becomes more frantic, and your fingers work their magic with a fervor that borders on desperation.

The crescendo of pleasure builds within you, a whirlwind of sensations that threatens to consume your very being. 

Your fingers dance over your engorged clit, tracing patterns of desire that mirror the fervent rhythm of your heart. It’s a symphony of ecstasy, each note played in tandem with Yoongi’s fervent ministrations on your sensitive nipples.

His talented mouth explores the peaks of your breasts with an unrelenting hunger, switching between them as if he’s trying to draw forth every once of pleasure within you. His lips, tongue, and teeth create a symphony of sensations on your sensitive nubs, a symphony that resonates through your body, leaving you trembling on the precipice of bliss.

Then it happens. 

The final, exquisite note in your symphony of pleasure. 

It crashes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in a sea of euphoria. 

Your body aches, toes curling, and a guttural moan tears from your lips, punctuated by the sweetest sound of Yoongi’s name.

Every fiber of your being seems to vibrate with pleasure, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. It’s a rapture that paints your vision with vibrant colors and sends fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids. In that instant, you’re entirely lost in the throes of your orgasm, a captive of the intense pleasure that courses through your veins.

Yoongi, with his lips still pressed to your breasts, feels the seismic shift within you, the cascade of pleasure that surges through your body. 

You gently push Yoongi away, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure of your orgasm. As you meet his gaze, you can see a mixture of emotions in his eyes; love, desire and an undeniable hunger. 

It’s a potent combination that mirrors your own desire, and you can’t wait any longer. Your body craves his touch, his closeness, and the fulfillment that only he can provide. 

You want him now.

“Yoongi, I need you now,” with a sense of urgency and raw desire burning in your eyes, you plead with Yoongi, your voice a husky whisper that conveys the depth of your need. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, and you can no longer bear the anticipation. 

You’re aching for him, your body yearning to be filled and consumed by him.

As you hastily discard your shorts and panties, your actions are driven by an almost primal need. 

Yoongi, sensing your desperation, doesn’t waste a moment. He’s equally consumed by desire, his body throbbing with longing for you. His cock, straining against the confines of his boxers, is a testament to his own need for release. 

A knowing chuckle escapes his lips, a mix of amusement and desire, as he helps you remove your remaining clothing. 

Your fingers tremble with a mixture of anticipation and excitement as you grab onto the elastic of Yoongi’s boxers. 

The knowledge that you are about to reveal the object of your deepest desire sends a shiver down your spine. 

With a swift, almost eager motion, you roll down the fabric and pull it down, exposing Yoongi’s throbbing cock to the morning air. The sight before you takes your breath away. It’s not your first encounter with a dick, by no means, but this is different. 

Yoongi’s cock is a work of art, beautifully sculpted and perfectly proportioned. Its girth is something to behold, stretching your imagination as to how it will feel when it’s buried deep inside you. 

The reddened tip glistens with a bead of precum, a visual testament to his undeniable desire for you.

A teasing smile dances on your lips as you lick them, your gaze fixed on his cock. 

It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered desire as you reach out, your hand trembling with anticipation. You’re captivated by the pulsing heat emanating from him, and the thought of how he’ll feel in your grasp ignites a fire within you. 

Your fingers brush against the silky skin, and you can’t help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp at the sensation. As your hand closes around his throbbing length, you know that there’s no turning back from the ecstasy that awaits you both.

Your eagerness is palpable as you stroke his dick, desire burning in your eyes. His raspy, breathless voice sends shivers down your spine as he anticipates your next move. With a devilish glint in your eyes, you slowly let go of his throbbing cock, releasing it from your gentle grasp.

“I know what you’re thinking, babe,” he pants, his voice laced with a mix of desire and restraint, “but if you do that, I’m gonna come in five seconds, and that would be embarrassing.”

You can’t help but pout in mock offense, your lips forming a playful, sultry curve. Your own arousal is undeniable, but you’re willing to indulge in some teasing foreplay before diving into the depth of passion. You just really want to suck him off, or at least give him a hand. 

“I would rather come inside your pussy,” his sultry words send a delicious thrill coursing through your body, and your breath hitches as his warm tongue grazes your earlobe. You can’t help but squirm beneath him, your need for him growing more intense by the second.

Your hand, guided by desire and need, finds its way back to his throbbing cock, fingers wrapping around it firmly, but not too tight. You begin to stroke him slowly, your touch teasing and deliberate.

Yoongi’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your skilled fingers dance over his length. The intensity of the moment hangs in the air, and you both know you’re playing with fire.

“God, I’d love that,” you gasp, the mere thought sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine, your voice trembling with desire.

He chuckles again and reaches over your head inside one of the cabinets closest to you. 

He pulls out a pack of condoms. Your eyes go wide, as you wonder why he had condoms in the cabinet, “Did you expect this to happen when we packed for this trip over a month ago?” 

You pout, caught between surprise and amusement. He just chuckles more as he rips it open with his mouth, “I bought them yesterday at the train station,” and at this revelation, your eyes go even wider. 

“After yesterday, I really wanted to make love to you, so yeah,” he says, stroking his dick teasingly and releasing a groan that sends your heart racing.

Before he rolls the condom on, he looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and concern.

“Do you need any prep?” he asks, his voice husky with anticipation. Your gaze drifts to his thick dick, and you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. 

“Maybe, yeah,” you admit, your voice a soft whisper filled with awe as you look from his impressive length to his hand holding the condom. “To be honest, it’s been a while, and you’re… well, you’re quite big. So, some prep would probably be best,” you mumble, your cheeks flushed with both desire and anticipation, as he discards the condom somewhere in the sheets.

“I’ll stretch you with my fingers, okay?” 

He says, his gaze locked with yours as he sits back on his knees and gently spreads your legs. You nod eagerly, desire burning in your eyes. You can barely contain your need for him; every second feels like an eternity, and you crave his touch like never before.

“Damn, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desire, as he slides a finger over your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit before gently pushing one finger inside your warm, welcoming core. 

The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you arch your back, aching for more of his touch. The moment he slips one of his fingers inside you, a low, needy moan escapes your lips. It’s been far too long since you’ve been with a partner, and the feeling of his digit inside you sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

As good as your toys have been, nothing can quite compare to the satisfaction of the human touch.

He continues to work his fingers inside you, a slow and deliberate rhythm that has you practically melting beneath his touch. With each push and pull, you can feel yourself relaxing and opening up to him. When he adds a second finger, your reaction is immediate. 

A soft, needy moan escapes your lips, and you can’t help but close your eyes as waves of arousal wash over you, making you feel like putty in his hands.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding about how tight you are,” he gasps, his voice filled with a heady mix of pleasure and desire. His eyes devour your flushed form, tracing the contours of your slightly sweaty skin. 

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your lips are bitten a tempting shade of red, and your eyes are pools of intense desire, making him ache for you even more.

Your voice comes out in a breathy, desperate plea, the urgency in your tone impossible to ignore, “Fuck, Yoongi!” As he continues to stretch you, even adding a third finger, you can feel the tightness gradually giving way to aching need. 

“Yoongi, please,” you whimper, your body trembling with anticipation. “I need you inside me now.”

You watch with bated breath as he sheaths himself with a fresh condom, the anticipation building with each passing second. His eyes lock onto yours, a hunger burning in the depths as he positions himself at your entrance. 

The tension in the van is palpable, and you can practically feel the heat radiating from his throbbing cock as it brushes against your slick folds. Your heart races, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy moan, urging him to take the plunge and fill you with his dick.

As he enters you, a rush of sensations floods your senses. 

The slow, deliberate slide of his thick cock into your tight, wet and warm pussy sends shivers down your spine. The stretch is exquisite, a delicious mix of pleasure and desire that leaves you craving more. You can feel every inch of him, and it’s as if he’s filling a void you didn’t even know existed. 

Your pussy clenches around him, aching to be completely consumed by his desire, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently urging him to bury himself deeper within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Yoongi’s voice trembles with desire as he inches deeper into your velvety depths. 

Each millimeter of his length that disappears inside you elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, a symphony of pleasure that fills the van. Your fingers dig into his thighs, your grip growing tighter as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy. 

His control and consideration for your pleasure make the anticipation all the more electrifying, and you can’t help but arch your back again, pressing your body further into his irresistible embrace, urging him to claim you completely.

“Move, faster,” you voice quivers with desperation as you implore him for more, your body aching for the passionate rhythm only he can provide. Yoongi’s movements quicken, the intoxicating friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. 

With every thrust, he delves deeper into your core, his balls slapping against you in a hypnotic cadence that echoes through the van. 

“Fuck!” 

As your bodies unite in a torrent of desire, you gasp for breath, feeling every inch of him stretching and filling you to the brim. Your nails dig into his thighs as he starts a rhythm that’s both electrifying and intoxicating. With each thrust, he claims you further, and your moans of pleasure harmonize with his ragged breaths. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he pants, as he begins to pull out slowly.

Lost in a whirlwind of sensations, you can barely find your voice, but you manage to gasp, “Yes, Yoongi, yes!”

His relentless pace has you teetering on the brink of release, your body a symphony of pleasure as his grip on your hips tighten and he plunges into you over and over again, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

You lock your gaze with his, your eyes blazing with desire, and you feel an overwhelming rush of desire surging through your veins.

Desperation drips from your voice as you arch your back and beg, “Please, Yoongi, give it to me harder.” Your fingers dig into the sheets, your body craving his every movement. You lock eyes with him, a silent plea for him to take you to the pinnacle of pleasure. 

“Fuck, babe, if I do that I’m afraid you won’t be able to walk,” he groans as he tries to restrain himself, because fuck he would like that too. Your words tumble out in a breathless whimper, “I don’t care, Yoongi, I need it. I need you.” 

Your desire for him is undeniable, and you’re willing to embrace the consequences. 

The urgency in your voice, coupled with your longing gaze, fuels his own desire, pushing him closer to the edge. Yet, his love for you and the plans you both have today hold him back. Last time you hiked, he did enjoy carrying you down the mountain, but damn he really just wants to intertwine his fingers with yours as you walk hand in hand later.

Your voice is filled with raw desire as you repeat each syllable in a growl, “I don’t care,” your eyes locked onto his. 

In this moment, nothing else matters but the burning connection between you and Yoongi. It’s a declaration of your insatiable need for him, a desire that threatens to consume you both completely.

“Fuck, then turn around.” 

He instructs as he pulls out and lets your legs down from his shoulders. With a sultry smile and a flick of your hair, you turn around eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation. You arch your back and present yourself to him, your ass enticingly swaying as you tease him with your seductive dance like you did yesterday, but today you finally get all of him. 

He seizes your hips firmly, his grip reassuring and possessive, and lines up his throbbing dick with your slick entrance. 

With an almost primal need, he thrusts into you in a single, commanding motion. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help but gasp in ecstasy, your world momentarily reduced to the overpowering connection between your bodies. 

Your fingers dig into the sheets as you try to steady yourself, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Are you okay?” He breathes as he remains still inside you, his hands tenderly caressing your hips. You offer a soft chuckle in response, head sinking into the sheets as you catch your breath. 

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it,” you admit, your voice tinged with a mix of surprise and pleasure. With unwavering determination, he withdraws and seizes your hips, initiating an unyielding assault on your core. Each thrust delves deep, reaching places that send waves of ecstasy through your body, causing your head to dip lower, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck.” He exclaims in a breathless voice, savoring the erotic view unfolding before him. 

Your luscious curves are on full display, the arch of your back accentuating your enchanting figure, and your tousled hair framing your face as it disappears into the sheets, making the scene even more tantalizing.

As he repeatedly targets that exquisite sweet spot inside you, you can’t help but lose yourself in ecstasy, “That’s it!”

Your voice rises in a crescendo of pleasure, your cries echoing through the van, mingling with his primal groans of desire. With each powerful thrust, you instinctively match his rhythm, a symphony of passion and longing unfolding between your entwined bodies.

Amidst his fervent, rhythmic thrusts, he manages to gasp out a question, his voice strained and breathless, “Are you close again?”

Beads of sweat cascade down his forehead, and his disheveled long hair clings to his face. He struggles to maintain control, his eyes locked on your flushed form.

You can only respond with an eager nod, your voice hitched in a husky whisper, “Yes, Yoongi, so close.” Your body trembles with anticipation, every fiber of your being aching for release.

His touch on your swollen clit is electrifying, a single stroke enough to push you over the edge. Your world shatters into a kaleidoscope of sensation as you scream his name, the pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves. Your breath comes in ragged pants as you ride out the intense, quaking aftershocks of your climax.

As your climax engulfs you, your inner muscles contract with an irresistible force, squeezing around his dick in a deliciously tight embrace. 

“Shit,” he can hardly contain himself, his thrusts growing erratic as he fights to hold on, but the intensity of your pleasure becomes his undoing. 

With a guttural groan, he spills his warm liquid into the condom, his hips bucking as his release surges into you. You can feel his dick twitching inside your throbbing warmth pussy, a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you share. 

A longing for a more raw and bare connection lingers in your thoughts, a desire perhaps to be explored another time.

As you both pant for air, the remnants of pleasure still coursing through your bodies, Yoongi continues to thrust into you, savoring the exquisite sensations. 

He yearns to stay locked in this intimate moment with you, to revel in the connection you share, but the intensity of his release leaves his once rigid dick now growing soft. His desire is undeniable, but for now, the sensations are overwhelming, and he can’t help but retreat from the depths of your warm pussy. 

You both lay there, spent and sated, the aftermath of your desire binding you together in a cocoon of contentment.

“Fuck, that was incredible.” 

Yoongi breathes out in a husky voice as he slowly withdraws from the depths of your desire, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He carefully removes the condom, tying it off, and then tosses it aside, the desire still smoldering in his eyes. 

The van is filled with the heady scent of your shared passion, and the aftermath of your heated lovemaking lingers in the air as a reminder of the intensity you both just experienced.

“Fuck, yes. Good morning to you too,” you tease, sending him a playful flying kiss as you gracefully turn around, settling onto your back. 

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over your entangled bodies. Your post-orgasmic bliss has left you feeling utterly content, and the playful banter between you and Yoongi only adds to the intimacy of the moment.

Yoongi joins you on the bed, and together, you both lay there, chests rising and falling as you catch your breath. The intimate connection you’ve just shared still lingers in the air, a potent reminder of your passionate encounter. As you lay side by side, you steal glances at each other, your eyes conveying a mixture of desire, affection, and a newfound sense of closeness.

Yoongi reaches for the cabinet once more, retrieving a small towel, and with gentle care, he starts to clean you up between your legs. 

You can’t help but appreciate his tenderness in this intimate moment, and you express your gratitude with a soft smile, whispering, “Thank you, you’re so sweet.” The affectionate gesture further deepens the connection between you two, leaving a warm and lingering sensation of closeness that transcends the physical realm.

“Always,” he smirks as his eyes roam over your naked form, a playful glint in his eyes. “We have to get ready for the hike. I’ll whip up some breakfast. You can take a refreshing shower in the lake if you’d like,” he suggests, tossing the towel aside before reaching for his boxers, which have disappeared somewhere in the rumpled sheets. 

“Will you join me when you’ve finished making breakfast?” you inquire with a playful flutter of your eyelashes, your movements graceful as you rise from the bed. You begin searching for your clothes and a towel, your voice laced with a tempting invitation that hints at the anticipation of sharing an intimate moment in the tranquil waters of the lake.

“Fuck yeah.” 

He responds with a wicked smirk, and as you meet his gaze, you can already see the flames of desire dancing in his eyes, mirroring the burning passion that rages within your own. 

With excitement bubbling in your chest, you efficiently pack your bags and don your hiking gear, preparing for the adventure ahead. The thought of ascending Palgongsan Mountain and sharing this experience with Yoongi fuels your anticipation. 

Every strap tightened and every buckle secured serves as a reminder of the thrilling journey awaiting you both.

Sitting side by side on the bus, you and Yoongi share a moment of awe as Palgongsan Mountain comes into view. 

Its vibrant colors, a symphony of green, yellow, and orange, blend together in a breathtaking masterpiece. You turn to Yoongi, a sense of wonder lighting up your eyes, recognizing that he’s witnessed this natural beauty countless times before. However, for you, this is an entirely new experience, your first glimpse of Daegu’s scenic marvels. 

“It’s so incredibly beautiful,” you marvel, your words filled with genuine amazement, sharing this captivating moment with him.

Standing before the majestic mountain, you’re left utterly breathless. Your next move is towards the Cable Cars, where you and Yoongi board and embark on a remarkable journey that nearly takes you to the mountain’s peak. 

As the Cable Car ascends, you’re treated to an awe-inspiring spectacle. The colors of nature come alive beneath your feet, a mesmerizing dance of hues akin to the strokes of a masterful painting, creating an unforgettable picture. The feeling of floating above this breathtaking landscape etches a memory that will forever linger in your heart.

Exiting the Cable Cars, you and Yoongi are now standing at the precipice of the mountain’s summit. With unwavering determination, you set your sights on the hiking trail that will guide you to the pinnacle. It’s a path marked by adventure, beckoning you to explore the hidden treasures of nature.

As you step onto the trail, your fingers intertwine with Yoongi’s, forming a connection that transcends words. 

Walking hand in hand, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this idyllic moment. It feels like a page ripped from a romantic novel, a shared journey into the unknown, your hearts beating in harmony as you navigate the path together. 

While the title of your relationship remains unspoken, the bond you’re forming feels undeniable, and for now, you’re content to savor the sweet uncertainty of what the future holds. And thankfully your back doesn’t hurt as Yoongi was afraid it would.

Upon reaching the summit, you stumble upon a quaint store nestled in the mountains. Gathering some refreshments, you both settle on a weathered bench, perched like conquerors overlooking the vast panorama of Daegu. 

The view from this height is nothing short of breathtaking, with the sprawling cityscape spread out beneath you like a living tapestry of lights and life. The sensation of being on top of the world, sharing this moment with Yoongi, fills your hearts with a sense of accomplishment and contentment. 

It’s a view that seems to mirror the possibilities of your new addition to your friendship, stretching out in every direction, waiting to be explored.

As you both gaze out at the mesmerizing view, Yoongi’s voice breaks the tranquil silence, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he poses a question that carries the weight of curiosity and sincerity.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He inquires, his tone laced with a subtle vulnerability.

You turn to him, your own eyes filled with warmth and genuine interest, and reply with a gentle nod, encouraging him to share his thoughts. 

“Of course, Yoongi, go ahead.”

“How come you haven’t had sex in a long time?” 

Yoongi’s unexpected question catches you off guard, and you momentarily struggle to control your reaction, almost choking on your water. His gentle chuckle eases the tension, and you regain your composure. With a sip of water, you offer an honest response, your words carrying a mix of candor and humor.

“Honestly?” 

You begin, setting your water bottle down, “I’ve been tired of the casual hookups, and I didn’t really feel satisfied, so I settled with my toys. Plus, that way, I didn’t have to deal with toxic men,” you quip, savoring the refreshing sip of water before continuing.

“Toxic men?” he inquires, intrigued by your choice of words.

You don’t hold back, letting your frustration and past wounds color your response. “Yeah, lying, cheating fuckboys,” you assert, your voice filled with a mixture of anger and resignation. “The kind who’ll make you feel like you’re their whole world one day, only to tear you down the next,” you explain, your shoulders lifting in a shrug as you reflect on the painful memories.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, his eyes filled with genuine sympathy, “The guys I know, me included, aren’t like that,” he reassures you with sincerity.

You offer a small smile, feeling a warmth in your chest as you place your hand on his. “I know, Yoon,” you say softly, your eyes meeting his. “Guess I’ve just been unlucky. What about you?”

“Just a lot of casual hookups,” Yoongi admits with a hint of regret, his gaze briefly falling to his hands, “Most of my time goes into the garage, which is also why I broke up with my last girlfriend.”

“Would you want to be in a relationship again?” you ask, your voice soft, a mixture of hope and anxiety in your eyes. You hold your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect.

“Yeah, with the right woman.” 

He says with a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours. As those words hang in the air, you can’t help but wonder and hope, your heart beating a little faster, if you might just be the right woman for him.

Today, Yoongi has planned for you to meet his family, and a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbles within you. 

You’ve heard about his family’s restaurant in Daegu, where they’ve honed their culinary expertise, and you’re well aware of Yoongi’s extraordinary talent in the kitchen. 

As you prepare to meet his loved ones, your senses tingle with anticipation. Your heart flutters with the thought of sharing this special part of his life. Despite your nerves, you’re confident that his family, who’ve nurtured such a remarkable person, must be as warm and wonderful as he is.

You board the bus to their family home, your anticipation growing with every passing mile. As you arrive, you’re immediately struck by the grandeur of the house. It’s a majestic residence that exudes warmth and comfort.

With a hopeful yet nervous heart, you approach the front door and raise your hand to knock. 

The door swings open, revealing Yoongi’s older sister. 

Her face lights up with an infectious smile, and her eyes dance with excitement. 

Without hesitation, she pulls Yoongi into a warm, tight embrace, a mix of joy and nostalgia twinkling in her eyes. Despite his initial grumbling, Yoongi reciprocates the hug, his stoic facade melting away in the presence of his beloved sister.

Then, her gaze shifts to you, and a mischievous glint sparkles in her eyes as she playfully inquires, “Is that your girlfriend?” 

Your cheeks immediately flush with embarrassment, and you find yourself at a loss for words. 

The label of your relationship with Yoongi has never been explicitly defined, leaving you in an awkward predicament. 

But before you can muster a response, Yoongi steps in with a casual yet protective tone, “Nah, we’re just really good friends.” His words hang in the air, tinged with a hint of something unspoken, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of your friendship.

His sister astutely observes the swift transformation in your expression, which now portrays a poignant blend of regret and sadness. Deep down, you feel a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—simultaneous waves of disappointment and anger. How could Yoongi casually introduce you as ‘just friends’ when the connection between you both runs far deeper?

Yet, in the recesses of your heart, you grapple with the realization that you’ve never truly had that defining conversation to cement your relationship status. It’s a bitter truth that leaves you torn between yearning for more and fearing that you might have inadvertently pushed him away with your silent expectations.

His sister ushers you deeper into the heart of their childhood home, where the familiar scent of home-cooked meals wafts from the kitchen. 

There, you find Yoongi’s mother, her hands deftly moving across the countertop, orchestrating a symphony of flavors. Her warm smile greets you, and you return the gesture with a respectful bow, appreciating the comfort of this inviting kitchen and the sense of family that permeates every corner.

You extend a warm greeting to Yoongi’s father, who is meticulously setting the table in the cozy dining room. 

The room exudes an air of tradition, with polished wooden furniture and framed family photos adorning the walls. 

As you watch him arrange the utensils and place mats, you can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the family’s close-knit bond and the effort they put into maintaining their traditions. 

You find yourself in the cozy living room, engaged in a polite yet slightly uncomfortable conversation with Yoongi’s sister and her husband. 

As she peppers you with questions, your mind races to find the right answers; how and when you and Yoongi met and you vividly recall the day you met him, the memory of your car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and the serendipity of Jimin calling him to help you a decade ago. 

When she inquires about your relationship status with Yoongi, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment as you echo the same words he used earlier, ‘just friends’, though it knots your stomach with unspoken desires. 

As the questions continue, you begin to feel a subtle tension building within you. You find yourself carefully measuring your responses, your eyes occasionally glancing toward Yoongi in search of reassurance.

When asked about the duration of your vacation, your lips curve into a polite smile, but a flicker of excitement ignites in your eyes. “About another month and a half,” you respond, your voice laced with a mix of anticipation and wonder at the adventures yet to come.

As your job in marketing becomes the topic of conversation, you lean forward, your enthusiasm shining through. Each word you speak carries the weight of your ambition and dedication to your career. 

“I work in marketing,” you explain, “helping businesses connect with their audience in meaningful ways.” The more you talk about your work, the more you feel a sense of pride and accomplishment, the embers of your professional journey glowing brightly in your words.

As Yoongi’s sister turns her attention to him, you watch with interest, wondering how he’ll respond to her probing questions. 

The living room seems to hold its breath, awaiting his answers. Yoongi, reclining comfortably in a nearby armchair, exudes an air of calm confidence as he addresses each query.

When asked about his garage and work, his eyes light up with a passionate fire. 

“Work’s going great,” he shares, his voice a harmonious blend of pride and determination. “The garage has been keeping me busier than ever, and I’m loving every moment of it. I get to work on amazing cars and meet incredible people.”

As the conversation shifts to his relationship status, Yoongi’s smile takes on a hint of playfulness. 

“Well,” he begins, “I’ve been focusing on my career, but you never know when the right person will come along.” His response carries an air of mystery, leaving room for interpretation, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope, wondering if you might be that ‘right person’.

As the conversation takes an unexpected turn toward the topic of children and grandchildren, you find yourself caught up in the familial exchange. Yoongi’s response is laced with a touch of sibling rivalry, countering with a smirk, “You’re the eldest, so you should be the first.”

Yoongi’s sister, perhaps inspired by her own maternal instincts, playfully hints at future generations by caressing her tummy. 

The moment is charged with anticipation and joy, and you’re not entirely sure why, but it triggers a spontaneous, delighted gasp from your lips, followed by a small, joyful shriek. The room falls into a hushed, expectant silence, all eyes turning to Yoongi’s sister. 

Her subtle gesture carries a world of meaning, and Yoongi, with wide-eyed astonishment, breaks the silence with a heartfelt question: “Are you pregnant?”

In response, she nods, a radiant smile lighting up her face, and the room erupts in a chorus of heartfelt congratulations.

As laughter fills the room and Yoongi’s sister playfully teases him about not having an excuse anymore to delay having children of his own, he responds with a hearty, confident laugh of his own. He knows that his journey will unfold in its own time, and he’s unapologetically determined to live life on his terms.

As you all gather around the dining table, the fragrant aroma of the Korean feast engulfs the room, making your mouths water in anticipation. 

The table is adorned with a colorful array of dishes, each one meticulously prepared and bursting with flavors that dance on your taste buds. Kimchi, with its spicy and tangy kick, stands as a vibrant centerpiece, surrounded by the inviting allure of Bibimbap’s sizzling stone bowl, the mouthwatering tteokbokki, and the succulent bulgogi. 

The table is a tapestry of Korean culinary delights, showcasing the rich heritage and diversity of flavors, from the crispy Samgyeopsal to the comforting warmth of Japchae and the hearty Jjigae. Your eyes dart from one dish to another, trying to decide where to start, and the promise of fried chicken adds an exciting twist to this already indulgent spread. 

With each dish more tempting than the last, you can’t help but feel a deep appreciation for the cultural richness and culinary mastery before you. 

As you take your first bite, the explosion of flavors on your palate brings a symphony of delight to the dinner table, making this gathering a truly unforgettable experience.

Amid the mouthwatering feast laid before you, the conversation around the table continues to flow like a gentle river. 

Yoongi’s mother, a warm and welcoming presence, leans in with genuine curiosity sparkling in her eyes as she asks the familiar question about how you and Yoongi crossed paths.

With a smile, you recount the serendipitous encounter from a decade ago, a tale woven with threads of chance and fate. Your words paint a vivid picture of a young woman in distress, stranded with a broken-down car, and a chance meeting with a skilled mechanic who happened to be none other than Yoongi. 

You can thank Jimin for introducing you. The story carries a touch of destiny, one that led to a friendship that has grown and deepened over the years.

As you share this personal history, the table seems to come alive with shared laughter and nods of approval. It’s a testament to the power of chance meetings and the bonds that can form when hearts connect, even under unexpected circumstances. 

Yoongi’s mother listens intently, her smile growing as she begins to understand the special connection between you and her son, a connection that extends far beyond mere friendship.

With a gracious nod and a warm expression, Yoongi’s mother extends a heartfelt invitation. 

“You know,” she begins, “while you’re here in Daegu, you simply must visit our family restaurant. It’s been a labor of love for us, and I would be delighted to have you there.” 

Her words carry a sense of pride and tradition, and you can see the deep connection she has with the family business. The idea of sharing a meal in their restaurant feels like more than just an invitation; it’s an offering of warmth, a way to welcome you into their world and share a piece of their family’s history with you. 

As you accept her invitation with gratitude and enthusiasm, you can’t help but feel that this trip to Daegu is turning into an unforgettable journey filled with not only breathtaking sights but also heartwarming connections.

The food is nothing short of extraordinary, each dish a symphony of flavors that dance on your taste buds. 

As you savor each bite, you can’t help but admire the culinary expertise that has been passed down through generations in Yoongi’s family. The flavors are a perfect reflection of the love and dedication that goes into their cooking. Around the table, the conversation flows effortlessly. Yoongi’s family is warm and welcoming, making you feel like you’ve known them for years. 

Stories are shared, laughter fills the air, and you find yourself feeling grateful for this unexpected moment of connection.

After the satisfying meal, Yoongi leads you down a hallway filled with memories, photographs, and some familiar faces frozen in time. The scent of nostalgia lingers in the air as he pushes open a wooden door, revealing his old room. 

Stepping inside, you’re instantly enveloped in a cocoon of memories. The room is a time capsule, preserving fragments of Yoongi’s past. You notice posters of his favorite bands still adorning the walls, faded and weathered but still carrying the same rebellious spirit.

As he shares anecdotes of his teenage years, the room comes alive with the echoes of laughter, dreams, and aspirations. It’s a place where the past and present collide, where you feel closer to Yoongi than ever before.

In this room, you discover a different facet of him—a young dreamer, passionate and determined, who embarked on a journey that would eventually lead him to you. 

As you prepare to leave Yoongi’s childhood home and return to the campsite for a restful night’s sleep, his sister gently pulls you aside. 

Her voice is hushed, carrying the weight of understanding and a hint of mischievousness as she leans in close, her words intended for your ears alone.

“I can see how you look at him,” she murmurs, a knowing smile dancing on her lips. 

“You should make a move.”

A blush creeps across your cheeks, a testament to the unspoken connection that has already blossomed between you and Yoongi. 

You can’t help but chuckle softly, realizing that her keen perception has unveiled a secret that your hearts have already whispered to each other. 

It’s a moment of shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the budding romance that has woven its way into your journey. With a conspiratorial nod, you convey your gratitude for her words, knowing that the path ahead holds the promise of something beautiful and profound. 

The stars above seem to twinkle with approval as you head back to the campsite, the night filled with the magic of possibilities.

The desire to have that important conversation with Yoongi simmers beneath the surface, a question that lingers on the tip of your tongue, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. 

It’s the uncharted territory of your emotions, a territory filled with both hope and trepidation. You yearn to understand what you are to him, to unravel the intricate threads of your friendship.

Yet, doubt and uncertainty cast their shadows. 

What if his intentions differ from yours? 

What if he prefers the current arrangement, comfortable in its casualness?

His declaration of ‘liking’ you hangs in the air, a tantalizing clue but not the complete answer to the question that occupies your thoughts.

For now, you choose to immerse yourself in the present, savoring each stolen moment with him. The allure of his presence makes it effortless to lose yourself in the intricate tapestry of emotions and desires that entwine your souls. The unspoken question lingers, but as time unfolds, so too may the answers you seek.

Today, the world unfurls before you like a vast canvas, ready to be painted with the vibrant strokes of your adventure. 

After weeks of anticipation, your bicycles are no longer silent spectators, dangling on the back of Holly; they are now your chariots, poised to carry you through a day of exploration.

With the wind tousling your hair and the rhythmic hum of tires on pavement as your soundtrack, you embark on your cycling escapade. 

The world blurs around you as you pedal through the cycling park, the two of you in perfect harmony with each other and the world. Eventually, you find yourselves in a tranquil park, a picturesque oasis nestled amidst the bustling city. 

Here, under the generous shade of swaying trees, you lay out a picnic blanket, surrounded by the gentle whispers of leaves and the distant laughter of children at play. Lunchtime arrives as a welcomed intermission in your day of adventure. Your meal is a symphony of flavors and shared laughter, a testament to the simple joys of life and the beauty of your friendship.

After days of vibrant exploration and exhilarating adventures, the two of you decide it’s time for a change of pace. You yearn for a day of tranquility and relaxation, a chance to immerse yourselves in the soothing embrace of Daegu’s hidden gem, Spa Valley.

As you step into this oasis of serenity, the world outside seems to fade away, replaced by the calming ambiance of the spa. The air is filled with the gentle whispers of steam rising from the hot springs, carrying with them promises of relaxation and rejuvenation.

Your journey through the spa takes you to the jjimjilbang, a realm where time slows down and cares dissipate like steam. Here, amidst the warmth of saunas and the serenity of traditional Korean spa treatments, you and Yoongi find yourselves immersed in a world of pure bliss.

The jjimjilbang’s soothing effects seem almost redundant for Yoongi, already blessed with an impeccable complexion and vitality. Yet, the experience proves to be more than just skin-deep, allowing the both of you to bask in the healing properties of the spa, feeling your worries and stresses evaporate with every passing moment.

In the midst of mid-August, a gentle shift in the air signals a welcome respite from the scorching heat that dominated the previous months. As the weather begins to cool ever so slightly, you find yourselves faced with a day where the possibilities are endless.

With a thoughtful smile, Yoongi suggests a plan for the day – one that resonates with your shared love for comfort and relaxation. 

The idea of spending a leisurely day inside the cozy confines of the van, cocooned in blankets and pillows, captures your imagination. As you both settle into your impromptu sanctuary, the van becomes a haven of comfort and contentment. 

Yoongi spoons you from behind, his head nestled perfectly against yours, creating a sense of intimacy and warmth that transcends mere physical proximity.

Together, you lose yourselves in the captivating world of k-dramas, each episode drawing you deeper into its intricate narratives and compelling characters. As the hours drift by, you revel in the simplicity of this shared moment, and with the sound of your steady breath, Yoongi drifts off to sleep.

Awakening from the tranquil embrace of a midday nap, Yoongi stirs at the gentle movements of your form. His eyes, still heavy with the remnants of sleep, meet yours as you reposition yourself. The corners of his lips curl upwards, as if an idea has blossomed within his mind. 

His voice, a low and raspy timbre softened by slumber, breaks the silence. “You know,” he begins, his words tinged with a hint of excitement, “I was thinking... How about a date tonight? To my parents’ restaurant.” 

The suggestion hangs in the air, poised like a secret waiting to be unveiled. In that moment, you catch a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes, a desire to share more of himself with you, to bring you into a cherished part of his world.

The prospect of a date carries a touch of anticipation, an invitation to explore the layers of your relationship. 

It’s an opportunity to see Yoongi in a different light, not just as the passionate and adventurous best friend you’ve come to adore, but also as a son and a part of a loving family.

As the day unfolds into evening, the prospect of this date fills the air with a sense of excitement, promising an evening filled with culinary delights and the warmth of family ties. And with each passing hour, the anticipation builds, making the moment when you step into that restaurant feel like the beginning of an unforgettable chapter in your shared journey.

Entering Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant, you’re enveloped in an atmosphere that exudes warmth and tradition. The subtle aroma of Korean spices and savory delights fills the air, creating a sensory embrace that immediately sets the tone for the evening.

The restaurant, bathed in soft, warm lighting, beckons you further. It’s a haven where tradition meets modernity, evident in the fusion of classic Korean dishes and contemporary culinary innovations. The menu is a treasure trove of choices, offering everything from time-honored Korean staples to the sizzle and delight of individual grills at every table.

Around you, diners chat, their laughter and clinking glasses composing a melodious background to the scene. The soft hum of conversations, punctuated by the sizzling sounds of barbecue, creates a symphony of camaraderie that resonates throughout the establishment.

As you settle into your seats, you can’t help but appreciate the familial atmosphere. There’s a sense of history here, a feeling of belonging that Yoongi shares with you, a connection to a place that has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember. 

The waitstaff, dressed in elegant uniforms, move with grace and precision, attending to the needs of each table. It’s clear that this is more than just a restaurant; it’s a labor of love, a testament to the dedication and passion of Yoongi’s family. 

As you peruse the menu, your senses are teased by the tantalizing descriptions of dishes, each one promising an unforgettable culinary journey. You can feel the excitement building, knowing that this evening will not only be a feast for the palate but also a celebration of shared experiences, flavors, and connections.

As you both savor the delectable dishes, the flavors dance on your taste buds, a symphony of tastes and textures that make each bite an exquisite experience. The rich, nuanced dishes served at Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant showcase the culinary heritage of Korea, and you can’t help but appreciate the artistry and care that goes into each creation.

As you savored the delectable Korean dishes, the warm and welcoming presence of Yoongi’s mother added an extra layer of comfort to the evening. Her brief visit, filled with genuine well-wishes and smiles, made you feel like a part of their family. 

It was moments like these that reminded you of the beauty of sharing a meal with loved ones, the way it could bridge gaps and create lasting memories.

With a contented sigh, you couldn’t help but express your delight. “Everything looks so good,” you said, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. “I’m having a great time.” 

Her smile in response was like a reassuring nod, a silent affirmation of your place at the table and in their hearts. As she left you two alone again, the atmosphere seemed to shimmer with the warmth of shared laughter and delicious food. It was a moment that etched itself into your memory, a testament to the bonds that were forming and the genuine connection you felt with Yoongi and his family.

Between bites, you and Yoongi engage in a delightful conversation, your voices creating a pleasant cadence in the cozy ambiance. His genuine interest in your thoughts warms your heart, making you feel even more connected to him.

He leans in slightly, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the restaurant’s lighting as he asks about your experience meeting his family. It’s clear that he values your opinion, and you share your genuine thoughts, recounting the warmth and hospitality you felt during your visit.

The conversation naturally segues to your impressions of Daegu. With each word, you paint a vivid picture of your journey through the city—its charming streets, vibrant culture, and the breathtaking natural beauty you’ve had the privilege of witnessing. 

Your enthusiasm is palpable, and Yoongi listens intently, his own connection to the city deepening as he sees it through your eyes.

The Soju arrives at your table, its crystal-clear liquid shimmering in the soft candlelight. Yoongi, with practiced ease, takes the lead, pouring a generous amount into your glass, then into his. 

The scent of the traditional Korean spirit fills the air, its mildly sweet aroma inviting you to partake in this shared experience.

You watch as Yoongi raises his glass, the warm glow of the restaurant casting a golden sheen on his features. His eyes lock onto yours, and in that moment, you both understand that this gesture is more than just a drink; it’s a silent toast to the moments you’ve shared and the ones yet to come. 

With a slight smile, you clink your glasses together, the gentle chime of glass against glass resonating like a harmonious note in the air. 

Then, in perfect unison, you both bring the glasses to your lips and down the Soju with a practiced swig.

The liquid courses down your throat, igniting a warm, pleasant fire within. The initial burn gives way to a soothing, tingling sensation, and you can’t help but exchange an appreciative glance with Yoongi. 

Yoongi takes charge of the grill, sizzling slices of succulent meat to perfection. The tantalizing aroma fills the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. As he deftly maneuvers the chopsticks, flipping the meat and ensuring it’s cooked to perfection, a wave of warmth washes over you.

With a genuine smile, he picks up a perfectly cooked piece, the juices glistening as they cling to the tender meat. He extends his chopsticks towards you, offering you a bite with the kind of care that’s become second nature between you. 

You lean forward, parting your lips to accept the delicious mouthful he’s prepared. The flavors explode on your tongue, and for a moment, the world outside this cozy restaurant fades into insignificance. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the extraordinary flavors he’s introduced to your senses.

This simple yet intimate gesture sends your thoughts spiraling. The way he grills for you, feeds you, and how you share this meal together—it all feels so unmistakably domestic. You can’t help but ponder the ’just friends’ label that has lingered between you two.

As Yoongi pours another glass of Soju, the fiery liquid sparkles in the dimly lit ambiance of the restaurant. The soft glow of the overhead lanterns casts enchanting shadows on your faces, creating an intimate cocoon around your table. 

The restaurant’s lively chatter becomes a distant hum as the two of you delve deeper into conversation.

With each sip of Soju, a warm and pleasant buzz envelops you, blurring the edges of your thoughts and inhibitions. It’s as if the world outside this cozy corner has ceased to exist, leaving only the intoxicating blend of shared laughter and desire lingering between you. 

The atmosphere is palpable, charged with the electricity of unspoken emotions. Your eyes meet and lock, a silent conversation passing between them. 

As the Soju continues to flow, the barriers that have held you back begin to crumble. 

The desire that’s simmered beneath the surface now surges to the forefront, impossible to ignore. It’s a thrilling dance of emotions, both exhilarating and terrifying. 

You find yourself drawn to Yoongi, not just as a friend, but as something more. The unspoken tension in the air hangs heavy, like a question that begs to be answered. 

Amidst the Soju-fueled haze, your emotions swirl like a tumultuous sea. 

You long to ask Yoongi about the true nature of your relationship, to define the unspoken connection that binds you two together. But fear creeps in, casting a shadow of doubt over your heart. 

You’re terrified that seeking clarity might shatter the delicate balance you’ve built, that the answers you long for could unravel the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

So, reluctantly, you choose to dwell in the present, to immerse yourself in the warmth of the moment and let the intoxicating Soju serve as your temporary solace. It’s a bittersweet surrender to the current state of things, a conscious decision to savor what you have without demanding more.

Your feelings, though a tempest within, are hidden behind a façade of laughter and casual conversation. The unspoken words hang in the air, an invisible barrier that you dare not cross. In this dance of emotions, you find yourself pushing your desires and the need for labels into the recesses of your mind, at least for now.

It’s a precarious balancing act, one where the thrill of the unknown mingles with the fear of what might change if you dare to confront it. 

And so, you sip your Soju, sharing glances and secrets in silence, allowing the night to take its course.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm, golden hue across the landscape, you both decide to embark on a thrilling adventure at E-world, Daegu’s exhilarating theme park. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable as you enter this enchanting realm of wonder and excitement.

The park comes alive as dusk settles in, adorned with a dazzling array of vibrant lights that twinkle like stars in the night sky. Cherry blossoms, delicate and ethereal, sway gently in the breeze, adding an extra layer of enchantment to the scene.

Together, you and Yoongi savor a delightful dinner that fuels your energy for the exhilarating experiences that await. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, you delve into a whirlwind of excitement, riding carousels that spin you around in a whirl of laughter and joy. Yoongi’s infectious dizziness only adds to the merriment, making each ride all the more memorable.

The roller coasters, a symphony of adrenaline and screams, become the crescendo of your theme park adventure. With the wind rushing through your hair and hearts pounding in unison, you both embrace the exhilaration of each twisting turn and heart-pounding drop.

Yoongi might not be a thrill-seeker, but for your sake, he’s willing to embrace the excitement of the amusement park. As the neon lights paint the night sky, he watches you with a tender affection that makes your heart flutter. It’s in the way he gazes at you, his eyes tracing the contours of your delighted expressions.

Despite his own reservations, he joins you on the rides, and you can see a subtle hint of amusement in his eyes.

He savors the moments when your laughter fills the air, your eyes sparkle with childlike wonder, and your smile becomes a permanent fixture on your face. In these shared experiences, he finds joy in your happiness, and that’s enough to make every dizzying spin and heart-pounding drop worth it.

Your enjoyment becomes his pleasure, and the way you radiate pure delight is an enchanting sight. It’s a reminder of the simple yet profound connection you share, one that doesn’t rely on grand gestures or elaborate adventures. 

For both of you, these small moments spent together are the true thrill, and the love that blossoms in these shared experiences is more exhilarating than any roller coaster ride.

In that moment, as the world spun around you, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having someone like Yoongi by your side. His willingness to step out of his comfort zone and embrace the joy of the moment, all for the sake of your happiness, touched you deeply.

You pulled him into more rides, your fingers laced together, creating a connection that transcended the dizzying whirl of lights and motion around you. It was a physical representation of the bond you shared—strong, unbreakable, and capable of weathering any twist or turn life might throw your way.

As the night continued, Yoongi’s gummy smile remained a constant source of warmth and reassurance. It was a silent promise that he would always be there, ready to share in your excitement, no matter how dizzy or disoriented it might make him feel. In this moment, beneath the vibrant carnival lights and amidst the laughter and thrills, you couldn’t help but wish for time to stand still. 

You wanted to savor every second of this shared experience, basking in the undeniable spark that had blossomed between you and Yoongi. It was a night you didn’t want to end, a night that held the promise of many more adventures together.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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#yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi smut #myg x reader #myg smut #yoongi fanfic #friendcation series #reader: female #au: road trip #au: camping #au: friends to lovers #au: mechanic #au: travel #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: comedy #vibe: fluffy #vibe: angst

[hellish-sunsets]

Curses and Blessings - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8

Summary:

With shaking fingers, he dug his hand under his sleeve past his elbow to find the edge of his glove. With another deep breath, he worked on pulling it down, revealing the skin of his arm, paper white like the rest of him, stained with those swirls of gold, orange and pink.

Warnings: kinda angst, kinda fluff, lots of talking

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1,375

Taglist:

@cherry-4200 @adaizel @kyo-kyo1 @elleofdragons @snoozewritezz @avadakadabra93

------------------------------

He had to tell her, but he wasn’t sure how or when, especially with the extermination steadily getting closer. It felt like he blinked and there were only a few days left. He had to gather his courage and just fucking talk to her before it was too late, before he blinked again and time was gone. 

But fuck, was he a mess. His hands went clammy any time he even looked at her. He couldn't even begin to muster up the courage to talk to her, not about this.

He should've known she would notice his odd behavior. It wasn’t like he was being subtle, and she had already proven to be better than most at reading people. And despite how nervous he was, she had no problem taking him aside while everyone else was preparing for the fight the day before. Because of course it was already the day before. He had dared to blink, and there time went, and it was a good thing she did it because he wasn't sure he would have managed soon enough.

She had asked him to come with her, smile so warm he couldn't say no if he wanted to. He swallowed hard and nodded, letting her grasp his hand in hers and drag him away from the group. He didn’t miss the looks they shared, and he really hoped that wouldn't be a problem later. He supposed it didn't really matter, especially once he told her about his mark. How would that work? Would she want to jump right into a relationship? He wasn’t sure he could handle that yet. No, that was unlikely, based on what she had said previously. But he knew something would change, that was guaranteed. Maybe she would pretend everything was normal, that he hadn't revealed anything. Or she could turn him down entirely.

He swallowed hard again. No, he couldn’t think like that. Just do it. Just tell her. He promised.

She had ended up dragging him to some lounge room and closing the door behind them. She turned to him with a stern look that almost made him flinch, her arms crossed. She didn’t even need to say anything. He took a deep breath, motioning for her to sit on the couch. Once she was settled, looking slightly less stern now that it was clear he was going to explain himself, he sat by her side, turned towards her. 

Now… how was he supposed to explain this? What was he supposed to say? He didn't remember where he had hid the rubber duck on his body this time, but it was in his hands in an instant as he fidgeted and thought. And bless her, she was so patient with him, waiting for him to gather his thoughts without pressuring him. It caused him to smile, even if only for a moment, even if only a small one. She wasn't even doing anything and yet she had his heart beating so fast and his face warming up.

“So…” he finally managed to get out before relapsing into silence once more. She reached over to grasp his hand in hers, helping his shoulders ease slightly. He looked into her eyes, so clear and warm, he got lost for a second. 

With a sigh he pulled his hand away from hers, picking at the fabric of the glove on his marked arm. Maybe he could just… 

With shaking fingers, he dug his hand under his sleeve past his elbow to find the edge of his glove. With another deep breath, he worked on pulling it down, revealing the skin of his arm, paper white like the rest of him, stained with those swirls of gold, orange and pink. He didn’t dare look her way, afraid of what her reaction would be. It felt like his heart was ready to leap out of his throat, his skin itching where she stared at the mark. 

He unconsciously brought his hand up to grasp his arm where the mark was, but he froze when he felt her warm touch, ever so gently leading his hand away. He dared to glance at her, his breath catching in his throat when he saw her not staring at the mark, but at his face. He wasn't sure how to describe the look that hid in her eyes, but he did know that his face had to be glowing with how hot it was. It only got hotter when she reached up to cradle his face in her hands. He let out a shaky sigh, leaning into her touch, and her smile was so soft.

“... I understand. Thank you.” Her voice was only just louder than a whisper, each word a breath of fresh air. “When you're ready, you let me know, okay?”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. Why couldn’t he stop staring?

“I… really?”

She nodded, thought a moment, and shrugged.

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we'd at least try when we found our match.” She said in that soft voice, reaching out for his arm. Her fingers traced over the swirls, her brow furrowed, unaware of the shiver it sent down his spine. “I just… I didn't think… I didn't know that we…” She sighed, letting his arm go, hands settling in her lap. She stared off into the distance, head tilting as she thought her words over carefully. 

“I know.” He said, tearing his eyes away from her to stare into the distance as well. That seemed like the right thing to do. “It’s… I expect it’ll be hard. For both of us.”

She nodded, took a deep breath and nodded again. 

“We’ll work through it though, right? Slowly but surely.”

He couldn’t stop the soft smile that tug at his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll work on it.”

There was a long beat of silence between them, a comfortable silence that settled over them like a blanket. After that moment, she leaned over to rest her forehead on his shoulder, hands firmly planted in her lap. Then she whispered something, so quiet he almost didn’t catch it. 

“... I’m glad it was you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He gulped down the lump in his throat, fighting back tears as he nodded. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up, pausing just before he touched her hair. With another gulp, he managed to gather the courage to rest his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair. 

It was just as soft as it looked. 

She sighed at his touch, relaxing into him a bit more, and for a moment everything was just as it should be. 

Shit, how he missed that feeling. 

There was a loud knocking at the door and they both jumped. 

“I am once more being sent as a messenger to inform you that dinner will be ready soon!” He recognized the voice of that snake fellow, he still hadn’t remembered his name. 

“Yeah, on our way, thanks Pentsious!”

Oh, that’s what it was. He’d have to try and remember it this time. She took a deep breath and smiled at him and reflexively he smiled back. His heart nearly stopped when she reached up and put her warm hand on his face, wiping away the few tears that had managed to slip out. It felt far too cold when she pulled away. 

“Here,” she said with his glove in her hand, offering it to him. “Not sure if we’re ready to explain the whole matching mark thing to everyone else yet.”

He nodded, wiping at his face before taking the glove from her. She was right, of course. He was nowhere near ready to explain himself to them, and he wouldn’t put that on her either. 

“Charlie knows, but I wouldn’t want to explain to everyone else yet.”

He was surprised when she looked surprised, but she quickly schooled herself, slapping her cheeks softly.

“Sorry, It’s just… That girl actually managed to keep that a secret?!”

He snorted and burst out laughing, not necessarily because it was funny, but because he needed a laugh after such a heavy conversation. It broke that air of solemness that had settled over them. 

“Apparently!”

#reader insert #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #curses and blessings

[angryschnauzer]

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 8

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Story Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing,   NSFW, 18+, Smut, Fingering, Grinding, Hot Tub Frolics, Handjob, Titty Sucking, Nudity, Blowjob, Oral Sex.  

Chapter 8 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink.

Wordcount: 2767

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 8

Sy poured three mugs of coffee, setting one gently down in front of you as you glared at him, he did a piss poor job of hiding his smirk which infuriated you even more;

“SY!”

“I’m sorry honey, but as this is the first time i’ve seen you angry and i know i shouldn’t laugh, but that is the cutest angry face i’ve ever seen”

“It really is” Mike added from the far end of the kitchen table, his feet resting on the chair next to him as he pushed another slice of toast into his mouth.

“No. You; quiet”

Sy pulled your chair out, rested a hand on each armrest and leant forwards;

“I’m genuinely sorry about the surprise of finding a stranger in my kitchen, but you really do have the cutest face when you are angry”

Before you could get another word out he pressed his lips to yours, and your rage dissipated to the point you deepened the kiss, the world slipping away around you until you heard a quiet cough;

“I’m still here ya’ know guys”

You and Sy pulled your lips apart as he rested his forehead on yours;

“I just got a premonition of what it's going to be like in our household in twenty years time when our own smart ass kid can’t take a hint to get lost”

Mike laughed as Sy pulled away and sat next to you, tossing a grape into his mouth from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table;

“Uncle Sy, I just spent far too many hours on a bus to get here, walked cross country so Dad didn’t see me, had to break into your house as you seemingly forgot I was coming. I’m staying here, at least in this chair. If you two wanna go fuck i’m not stopping you”

Sy took a deep breath;

“Jesus Christ, you are just as infuriating as your Dad was growing up”

Mike grinned and you could see the likeness between him and Walter. The dark hair and sparkling eyes, but also the slightly lopsided grin. You could only imagine the hearts Walter broke when he was Mike’s age.

“So Mike…”

“Yeah Sweetcheeks?”

“Why are you in town but hiding from your Dad?”

Mike looked at Sy and back to you;

“He didn’t invite you?”

Sy turned beet red and suddenly got flustered;

“I been kinda busy Mikey, i completely forgot about it if i’m being honest, plus we had other more important stuff going on which is why she’s staying here” Sy looked to you; “It’s Walter’s 40th Birthday this week. Trying to get as many of the old family back together as a surprise”

You nodded;

“Ahh I see. Thus the covert operation of Mike staying with you”

"Precisely" Sy nodded; "So errr… whatcha doing Thursday evening?"

"Nothing as far as i know"

Sy smouldered; "Wanna come to Walter's surprise party?"

You smiled, genuinely feeling relieved for the first time in 24 hours;

"I'd love to" you leant forwards and pressed a kiss to Sy, only for Mike to cough.

"Still here"

Letting out a deep sigh, Sy turned;

"Get used to it kid. I'm crazy about this woman."

-

After a shower you settled some essentials into the drawer Sy had emptied for you for when you stayed the night again in the future, before packing the rest. As you climbed into Sy's truck he gave Mike instructions to chop a pile of logs ahead of taking a nap, climbing into the driver's seat he smiled at you;

"I can guarantee he'll only do one of the two instructions i just gave"

Laughing quietly you smiled at Sy;

"The nap?"

"Honestly? With Mikey you never know. Even though he has probably been awake 48 hours he is just like a freaking ball of pure energy so he'll probably end up chopping the entire wood pile"

"So, you're the mean Uncle? Putting him to work" You said with jest

Sy laughed;

"It'll be easy for him, he works part time at my brothers sawmill in Portland, he's told me that Mike will literally go out on his lunch break from his IT department and chop through a couple of tonnes of logs just for fun… and posing on tiktok"

You nodded and unlocked your phone, scrolling through instagram until you found the thirst trap reel of Sy doing exactly the same, peeling off his shirt halfway through;

"Oh, you mean like this?" Turning the screen to him and you watched the blush rise through his face to the top of his ears.

“That’s completely different. And is not a thirst trap, it was a hot day”

“There’s snow on the ground”

“I was getting hot”

You smiled;

“It made me hot too” you said quietly, your comment almost immediately followed by a rumble of tyres of gravel where Sy wasn’t paying attention to the road and had pulled onto the verge.

“Whoops”

For the rest of the short drive to your cottage Sy paid attention to the road, pulling onto the driveway as the gravel crunched under the tyres of the truck.

“Never gonna be able to do a surprise visit with this gravel” he commented

“That’s the whole point”

Sy paused as he rounded the truck, considering your answer;

"I had never thought of it in that way. Now it makes sense"

"The fence too, and the roses and briars. Hostile architecture. Anyone tries to climb over the fence its so old and rickety that it's clear it'll fall over, likely tipping you into a patch of thorns"

You unlocked the door and deactivated the alarm, waiting for the three beeps before stepping inside and dropping your bags on the floor. The house was quiet, flecks of dust floating in the beams of sunlight that fell in puddles on the wooden floors. Sy stood in front of you, pulling you into his arms;

"So, what are your plans for today?"

"Lunch with Tam later, and I guess trying to find a gift for Walter?"

"So… no plans for the next few hours?"

You could sense the hopefulness to Sy's voice, and you could feel your body respond to the idea he was silently suggesting. Slipping your hand into his you turned and led him up the stairs, an appreciative hum as he realised you had agreed to his unspoken suggestion.

Stepping into your bedroom you felt like a Jane Austen character about to be ravaged by the handsome suitor, a bang of nerves nudging the arousal from top spot, Sy picking up immediately on your change;

"Are you ok? We don't have to…"

"No, I still want to. I'm just not super experienced in bed. You'll be the second guy i ever slept with"

Resting his hands on your upper arms Sy pressed a kiss to your forehead;

"Numbers don't matter. I wouldn't care if you had been with one or fifty before me"

Hooking his finger beneath your chin he tilted your head to meet his kiss, starting tentatively at first before it rapidly got heated. His hands cradled your face as you pulled his t-shirt out of his shorts, pushing it up his muscled torso. Digging your fingers gently to the wide chest, he pulled his shirt over his head before practically ripping your dress off, his hands moving to cup your breasts, feeling the soft flesh beneath the lace. Reaching around he deftly unhooked your bra with a practised skill, tossing it aside. You dragged your fingernails down his stomach before flattening your palm and slipping it into the waistband of his cargo shorts, feeling the rough bush of hair which his happy trail climbed from.

"I need you so bad" he admitted, taking hold of your other hand to rest against the obscene bulge tenting the front of his shorts.

With a sly smirk you moved your efforts to unbuckling his belt and unzipping him, letting the garment fall to the floor with a heavy thunk where his pockets were weighed down with keys and change. Just as you were going to get your hands back on him he surprised you by lifting you up and tossing you onto your bed, his big hands pulling your panties down your legs before he lay between your thighs, his mouth immediately on your pussy.

“Sy, I need you… I need you inside me”

He looked up and smiled;

“I know Honey, I need to be inside you too, but i gotta loosen you up first, don’t wanna hurt you”

“Ohh” you relaxed and let Sy go to town, enjoying the feel of his wide tongue and soft lips skillfully bringing you to the edge before you came. It was a soft and gentle orgasm, a starter to the meaty and filling main course that would follow.

Sy climbed up your body, peppering your skin with kisses before he settled between your legs. The weight of him was a comfort, thick corded muscle surrounding you at your most vulnerable, safe in the cage of his arms. He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his tongue. You found yourself instinctively squirming beneath him, the feel of his hardened shaft nestling between your soaked petals.

"Eager, aren't we?" Sy teased

"Please Sy, i'm ready"

Pushing himself up you watched as his positioned the fat tip at your entrance then paused and cursed;

"Fuck… protection…"

Your eyes went wide. In the past you had been on the pill but had stopped that as soon as you'd left James. Without any desire to even consider dating up until Sy you certainly weren't prepared;

"I don't have any…"

"When is your period due?"

"Umm…" now was not the time for your head to be considering your calendar; "By the end of the week"

"Okay… I can pull out, you should be past ovulating, right?"

"'Bout a week ago i had my ‘hungry horse’ three days, so yeah" referring to the short period of time when your appetite suddenly ramped up after you had ovulated.

Sy looked deep into your eyes as if trying to see any doubt;

“Are you sure about this?”

You were so turned on you probably weren’t thinking straight, your pussy making the decisions for you as  you hooked your legs around Sy’s butt and pulled him closer;

“I need you inside me now”

“Okay okay, baby, relax for me”

Sy reached down and positioned himself at your entrance, his attention darting between where your bodies were about to be joined and your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly pushed into your welcoming body. 

“Holy motherfucking…” Sy cursed as he stretched you out, yet his muttered words floated away as you were overwhelmed by the feel of him inside you.

You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath until Sy pressed a single kiss to your cheek and spoke softly;

“Honey, you’re gonna have to relax otherwise i’m gonna cum sooner than either of us want”

“I am… I'm trying to. I’m just waiting for the pain”

Sy paused;

“The pain?”

“Yeah… when you hit my cervix”

He held himself up on one arm as he softly cradled your cheek with his big hand;

“Oh Honey, I'm not gonna do that. I’m fitting just fine and don’t need to go any deeper, Hell, I ain't got no more inches to go deeper anyway. I’m guessing your ex was longer? And didn’t care that he hurt you?”

You nodded;

“But Sy, you’re not small, James was really long but really narrow…” you smiled up at him; “I like the feel of how thick your cock is, it feels really good”

Sy pressed a single kiss to your lips;

“Oh I'm not worried about my size Honey, I know I got a good deal. Now, how about I make you feel even better? How ‘bout I show you why girth is better than length?”

You smiled at him and nodded, to which he reached his head down and pressed a kiss to your lips before he slowly rolled his hips. You could feel the smooth slide as his cock rubbed against your inner walls, each ridge and vein caressing you whilst the bulbous crown curved up and cushioned against your g-spot. Resting your hands on his muscled back you let pleasure take over, suddenly realising just how skilled Sy was as a lover. 

As the senses of summer filled the room you felt a bliss like you had never before. Muted light coming in the windows, the scent of the garden blooms in the air. Birds and crickets in the distance were the only sounds beyond those the pair of you were making. The air was thick and heavy, another summer storm brewing rapidly but the heat only made your lovemaking more intense. Almost every sense was fulfilled except taste, your subconscious deciding to go for the whole set as when Sy rolled his hips and filled you again, you craned your neck and instinctively licked the side of his neck, tasting the sheen of sweat that had appeared on his skin.

“Oh Honey, you wantin’ a taste?” Sy muttered menacingly; “You ain’t the only one”

Gripping your hips he pushed up on his knees, never pulling out of you as he rocked his pelvis, but your ass was resting on his thighs as he widened his stance on the bed. He slid one hand into the small of your back, supporting it as you arched your spine, his other hand resting on the bed beside your head. The angle gave him enough room to continue to fuck you as he kissed and sucked at your breasts, taking a mouthful of titty before switching to the other.

As the room grew darker you could sense petrichor in the air, that impending humidity before a storm broke. Sy growled as he felt your body tightening, and as his sound faded away a rumble of thunder followed as if an answer.

Shifting, Sy straightened his body, kneeling on the bed as he gripped your waist with both hands, rolling his hips with each thrust;

“C’mon baby, cum for me, i’m getting so fucking close, let me see you cum for me”

You were already so close you didn’t need Sy’s words, but as your hands instinctively reached for something to grip onto you felt your fingers straining against the cotton fibres of the sheets as your final barriers dissolved and your orgasm finally crested. Lost on a wave of utter bliss you were in a haze of euphoria, the world around you no longer existing apart from the groans of Sy as he came too.

You missed how Sy watched you in all your beauty, chewing on his lip as he placed his hand over your abdomen and could feel as his cock pumped ropes of cum into you. Thoughts he would never share surged through his mind as he knew gravity would be flooding your widened cervix with his seed, and it was if he could feel the searing heat he’d filled you with warming his hand through your body. Mesmerised by the notion he would see your belly swell over time he was lost in the moment, before you reached for his hand, your palm sweaty;

“Sy… lay with me. I need you to hold me”

As if coming out of a trance he shook his head before tenderly pulling out of you and moving back, setting you softly down before he curled around your body at your side, cupping your cheek and turning you until the tips of your noses met;

“Fuck me, that was amazing” he muttered.

-

Later you were both showered and redressed, Sy holding an umbrella for you as he escorted you back to his truck to drive you into town for your lunch with Tam. Pulling up to the kerb outside Antonios’ he killed the engine before jogging around to the passenger side, opening the door and holding his hand out for you, smiling kindly when he glanced at your shorts;

“No dress incidents this time”

“I’ve learnt my lesson” 

Taking your hand he walked you up to the outside patio where Tamara was already waiting for you, giving her a smile and nod before placing a kiss on your cheek;

“Have fun, i’ll call you later”

The pair of you watched as Sy returned to his truck, smiling and waving as he drove off before Tam rested her elbows on the table and leant forwards;

“So… tell me everything…”

#as sweet as honey #captain syverson #syverson x reader #henry cavill smut #sy x reader

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 10

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, masturbation

You wince in pain. You frown and sigh frustrated at your casts. Those wretched things get in the way of absolutely everything! You cannot wait to get rid of them and go back to your former life! 

For Thrawn too it would be better... A Grand Admiral should be focusing on war and not losing time over a helpless officer. You are sure his patience must start to run thin with you. 

In fact you are absloutely sure of it! It has been weeks since you are in his suite and you still need those stupid casts, forcing him to help you in everything. At least you manage to eat by yourself now, that’s little but still a win. 

You sigh again, your eyes falling back on your drawing folder once again. Drawing with your non-dominant hand is a pain in the ass and the result suffers so much for it. You observe the drawing you’re currently tracing, pursing your lips. That is not good! 

You had to abandon portraits and models studies to focus on more abstract figures and forms. You’re not exactly vibing with that style but you’re starting to get the gist of it. You raise your pencil, wondering what to trace now when you start hearing a loud noise coming from the living room of Thrawn’s suite. 

What the hell is he doing? 

You lay your feet on the floor and tentatively try to stand up. You are trembling terribly but manage to stand on your two feet, although uncomfortably! You jump one step to the side, taking support on the bed, and another one, and another one, and another! 

Clumsily, you cross the bedroom to finally reach the door, taking support on the wall or furnitures. You take a second to take back your breath, joy slowly florishing in your heart. This is not optimum but you succeeded in moving from point A to point B all alone! Maybe you are starting to mend after all! 

The door slides open and you pass your head inside. Thrawn is kneeling close to the sofa, a little machine in hand. You clumsily jump towards the big table in the middle of the room to change point of you. Thrawn is in his black tank top, his pristine white jacket folded on one of the chair. He is screwing something in the wall, but you cannot see what. 

“What are you doing, sir?” You shout over the hellish sound of the drill. Thrawn instantaneously stops, raising an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. 

First off : what’s with that ‘sir’ bullshit? Aren’t you on a first name basis? Second : What are you doing in his living room? Since when can you move all by yourself? Is your time together up already? 

“What is it for?” You repeat, jumping funny towards him so see. You lean forward to discover a little metal hoop screwed to the wall. You look at him with a silent question in your eyes. 

“This is prevention.” He responds enigmatically, his unbothered expression already back on, “Just in case.”, “In case for what?” You ask smiling. He hooks two fingers in the metal contraption and pulls on it to test it. It doesn’t even tremble. He nods satisfied and stands back up, “Do not worry about it. I hope it will never come to use, but one is never too safe.” He closes the matter, “How did you came here?” 

You smile broadly, “I jumped! It sends unpleasant vibrations through my leg cast but it’s manageable.” Thrawn looks at you up and down with a closed expression “You should not do that, you will fall.”, “But you wouldn’t need to carry me everywhere!” you counter, “Until you break a bone again.” He finishes. 

You sulk, lowering your head. You hoped he would be happy for you. He is right of course, but he could have let you savor this little victory. Everything would have been simpler if you had a wheelchair but Thrawn argued you could not navigate it properly in the suite. And faire, it would be difficult. 

But still... 

“May I see your latest piece?” Thrawn asks, his tone infinitely softer. You raise your gaze to him, not understanding. “Your drawing folder.” He explains, gesturing to the object in your hand. You didn’t realized you still had it! 

“It’s not good.” You warn. “Nonsense, I am sure it is delightful as all your other art pieces.”he retorts. You flush, hearing him qualify your stupid drawing as ‘art pieces’. “Those are silly doodles, nothing more.” you chuckle, embarassed. “Allow me to contradict you. As an art connoisseur I can recognize talent when I see it. And your art shines to my eyes like any grand master work.” 

You clear you throat, heat flourishing in your cheeks, “Will you allow me?” He asks again. You press the folder against your chest, still uneasy to let Thrawn rummage through your sketches. 

He tilts his head at your silence, “Is there a problem?” He invastigates. “No... Not really.” you mumble. “Perfect! So can I?” He insists. 

He never loses an occasion to rummage through your drawings, especially since he entrapted you with him in his suite. He delighted himself in your evolving view of his personhood through your abstract shapes. He picked upon the fact that you started to question yourself more than his actions lately, much to his pleasure. 

He doesn’t deprive himself of gaslighting you into letting him access your folder. Today is no different. 

“I suppose you can...” You back down and he gently takes it off your hand. He wins again! 

“What are you doing here by the way?” You ask, realizing he should be on the bridge at this hour. “It is my day off.” He explains patiently. “Oh!” You exclaim, “The legendary Grand Admirals’ days off, seen only every six months if lucky enough!” You joke. “Indeed, they are quite rare.” He nods, “But that only makes them more valuable. I shall take my time to properly appreciate and admire your pieces once I am done with those hooks.”, “You’re going to screw more?” you investigate curious. “All over the suite, especially around the bed.”  

You ponder what use those little hooks would have, especially near a bed but Thrawn can do watherver he wants in his suite. You are not going to question him for something so inconsequential. 

“Do you want a treat?” He asks out of the blue. Your purse your lips, thinking for a split second, Thrawn proposing a treat? Unheard off! But you are a gourmand through and through! “Why not?” You accept.  

He gently helps you sit on the sofa and brings you a chocolate cake. You frown with a light smile, “You have such treats in your fridge?”, “I know you enjoy a good cake so I always keep one at arm’s reach.” He simply responds like it was obvious. “Oh... Thank you...” You flush again, “You are welcome Ch’acah.”, “What does that means exactly?” you tilt your head as you gingerly takes the plate off his hand to not drop the precious cake. “It means friend in Cheuhn.” He lies with his most insolent smile. “Can I call you Ch’acah, then?” You ask with an elated smile. “I would be delighted, Ch’acah.” He grins, dark satisfaction growing in his heart, “It would be an honor.” 

You nod with glee before focusing on your cake. As you eat it you hear Thrawn continuing screwing hooks all around the suite. You savor your cake like the rare treat that it is on the Chimaera, taking your sweet time, letting each bites melt into your mouth. You are only in the middle of the cake when Thrawn reappears in the living room. 

‘’Do you mind if I exercise ?’’ he asks you as he approaches his exercise bench in front of you. ‘’Not at all, Ch’acah !’’ you grin. 

He doesnt show it but his heart is pounding in his chest when you call him ‘love’ in his mothertongue. It just sounds so …right! He had lovers in his past that called him ‘Ch’acah’ too, but none ever got this reaction out of him. 

You are just that superior to anyone else to him ! 

He simply smiles at your innocent enthusiasm and decides to offer you a little spectacle for it… 

Out of nowhere, Thrawn takes out his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved chest and you almost choke on your bite. He throws it somewhere in the room and prepares his bench while tou cough your lungs out. 

‘’Are you alright ?’’ he cannot help but tease you. You nod hurriedly, a fist pressed against your mouth. He pretends to go back to his preparation, hiding his satisfied grin to you. You are and remain a woman who appreciate masculine bodies, and his body is particularly well made. He took great care of it for decades after all. He flexes his well defined muscles to your view, pretending to warm them up to tease and confuse you. 

He has been the ‘good friend’ long enough, it is time he becomes something more in your eyes ! Something powerful and irresistible, a man on top of his game. 

You do not know where to look. He never undressed in front of you before, you were so unprepared by this sudden indecence from him. You’ve seen plenty of men’s chest but Thrawn always favored his modesty. Seeing his chest exposed so suddenly like that is almost…lecherous. 

You slap yourself mentally. He can expose himself if wants to, you are in his suite after all. What is it to you anyway? You bite down another bite of the cake, trying to look at absolutely everything else but him. But the blue of his skin is so deep and vibrant … Your eyes are inextricably attracted towards him.  

He finishes his warm up nonchalantly, flexing his wonderfully defined shoulders and shoulderblades, letting you appreciate the glory of his back. 

 With a discreet and quick glance at you he notes satisifed that the heat of your cheeks is rising, such as the heat between your thighs. 

Good. 

Excellent even. 

He lays down on his bench and starts his rep like you weren’t here, focusing in his breath while you are almost drooling on your cake with that spectacle. You bite the inner of your cheeks, trying to only look at your delicious cake but you feel your mouth and throat going dry before such view. You gulp with difficulties, Thrawn is terribly well made you realize... 

You noticed before the elegance and perfection of his face but now you are forced to admit the rest of his body may be a paragon just as much. You swallow your bite slowly while he keeps showcasing his muscular body with different exercises, your eyes betraying you and always raising back to ogle him as discreetly as you can. 

You chastise yourself. Thrawn is a friend! He is your Ch’acah! How dare you ogle at him in such a way?! He innocently follows his training routine and you cannot help yourself but sexualizing him. 

But he is so well made it is so hard to not stare... 

You instinctively press your thighs together, trying to silence your core slowly waking up at such perfection. His body is just...  

Glorious 

You have no other word than glorious. Suddenly your flesh and body understand why the Captain was lusting after him. It is really hard not to when you are subjected to such a vision. 

Get a fucking grip, (Y/n)! Friends don’t do that to each other! 

“Is there a problem Ch’acah?” Thrawn’s deep melodious voice snaps you out of your trance and you realize that despite your best efforts your eyes where fixed on him again! “N-No!” You immediately responds forcing them back on your plate. “You were fixing me so intently.” He continues. 

He takes great satisfaction at your startled expression. Of course he saw how difficult it was for you to not look at him. As it should! He wants you to realize what you could have if you just succombed to temptation, what delights he could give you, what he refused to so many people before you but is ready to give today. 

Just.for.you. 

 Would it be anyone else but you he would be greatly displeased at being observed like that, but he wants you confused and drooling over him. 

And you are doing so great right now! 

You wail in your mind. Dear Maker he noticed you checking him out! 

“I was just observing your technique.” You reply in a heartbeat, “It is quite different than mine and I might experiment with it once I can resume training.” 

Nice save, he will give you that. “I can teach you all of my techniques if you wish.” He proposes politely, “It will take several hours but we are alone here, we will not be disturbed.” He lets his Chiss accent peak through, rolling his ‘r’ like a purring feline, like a promise, sounding exotic and lyrical. 

You swallow your bite once again, nodding weakly as you desperatly tries to rationalize this entire situation. He doesn’t miss how your thighs muscles clench and unclench repeatedly, how your core shines brighter in his eyes now that all your warm blood is flooding to your southern muscles... He cannot help but lick his lips a that detail. 

He lifts his weights with ease. He feels powerful under your gaze, pure and raw strenght running in his veins and mucles as you observe him. Is it childish of him? Most certainly. But he cannot help it. You are the anchor in his life, your mood dictates his entire course of actions, no wonder an admirative glance from you would boost his power and feed his ego. “Do not deprive yourself from looking, you will learn a great deal of my techiques by observation alone.” He nonchalantly invites. 

“Okay...” You reply weakly, at war with yourself and your morality. Even if he gave you his consent to observe him it doesn’t sit well with you. You cannot help but cheking him out instead of platonically detailing his methods as you pretended. 

He breathes deeply and longly between each movement and you cannot help yourself but wondering if he would sound like that in bed... Stop that immediately!  

He knows very well what he is doing. He knows the of turmoil raging inside of you. Serves you right! This is what you get for bringing him to his knees every single day. “Focus on my breathing, respiration is an integral part of training.” He teases you when he sees you closing your eyes to not see him anymore. You shudder at his sounds, as they invade your ears and mind with dirty thoughts. 

The heat signals of your face and sex are through the roof just as he hoped and planned. Good. 

He finishes his training session as you ostensibly tries to look away, but he is not quite done with you yet. He wants to keep toying with you a bit more. You let out a breath of relief when you realizes he stopped. Now he is going to put back his shirt on and go take a shower and leave you alone to calm down! What a relief! Phew! 

But as you blink you see him approaching you. He leans forward you, getting dangerously close.” Do not move Ch’acah.” He murmures. 

Is he... fixing your lips?! 

Before you can do or say anything, his hand come cupping your boiling hot cheek and his thumb very gently brushes your lips, pulling them slightly appart. You cannot help the gasp escaping you. “You have cream on your lips.” He simply indicates just above a whisper. He takes out his thumb now full of cream and licks it thouroughly without breaking eyes contact with you. 

You are so shocked you cannot move or blink to save your life. He lets out his thumb out of his mouth with a sounding pop and a smile. “Very sweet and tasty.” He grins lightly. 

You are hit by lightning and jumps on your two feet in a hurry. He looks at you with a raising brow, waiting for an explanation. “It was delicious, thank you very much! Now I think I need a nap!” You precipitadly announce, flushing terribly. “Allow me to escort you to bed.” He straightnes his back, towering over you with his height. “No, no,no,no!” you immediately stop him, “I’ll go by myself!” and you start jumping away in the most inelegant way he ever saw. You can’t have him carrying you to bed after such a spectacle or you will sponteanously combust! 

He chuckles under his breath, satisfied with himself. At least until he hears a loud thud and realizes he was indeed right : you fell face first in the dirt. 

“Ch’acah! Are you alright?” He is at your side immediately, kneeling down to help you. What a stupid idea to jump around with a leg and an arm in a cast! He makes you roll on your back and hears your laugh. 

“I am so clusmy sometimes!” You laugh, more scared than hurt. He releases his breath, relieved. “Let me carry you. He decides, “Just help me on my feet an I am good to go!” You argue with an chuckle. He stares at you coldly, his grip on your shoulder tightening.  

The message his clear. 

“Alright, Grand Admiral...” You submit, your laugh dying down and your gaze low. “That is better.” he closes the matter. He scoops your bruised body and lift you without any difficulties, your head is rigth on his large, muscular pec and his musk invades your nose instantaneously making you squirm embarassed in his arms. He carries you easily to the bedroom and very gently lays you down the matress, “I will take a thorough look at your bruises during the bath.” he announces his sentence. 

Oh no... 

“It’s alright! I didn’t even hurt my head!” You try to get out of this with a light chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere. But he looks as dead serious as ever, pretending to modestly pulling on the little dress he chose for you to falsely cover your thighs. “Permit me to doubt your judgement, the groan you made when you hit the floor was really telling. Do not worry, I will dress any wound I will find.”, “I swear it’s fine! I don’t feel any pain or-”  

He suddenly spins his head towards yours, bringing it dangerously close and seizing your chin in his fist, red shiny eyes fixated on yours making you shut up instantly in surprise and fear. “Will you ever stop making things difficult?” He demands with an icy cold tone, “I know what I am doing. The less difficult you are the quicker you will mend.” His eyes are dark, shooting you with his red glare. You can only gulp. 

“I am sorry... Sir.” He looks at you black for several more seconds before letting his carefully crafted expression melt into a false sympathetic smile, “I am sorry Ch’acah. But I take your healing journey seriously, I feel partly responsible for what happened to you. Just let me help you in return, alright?” he intentionaly softens his tone to ease your nerves. “Alright, sir...” you abdicate. 

“Please” he pulls the cover over your body to tuck you in good, “We are friend, (Y/n). Call me Ch’acah.” he presses. “Okay... Ch’acah.” you whispers on eggshells. 

 “Good girl.” He leans forward to very gently kiss your forehead, brushing his lips like butterflies on your skin. You wince at the petname, remembering that Chiss are more liberal with them than humans according to Thrawn’s words. Once again you get a whiff of his masculine musk, making your head spin again and your core contract demanding sweet attention. “I will take a shower. Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.” 

You grasp his wrist to hold him back as he raise back to head to the shower. “Well, I know I already asked and I insisted before but... Could you give me back a comlink?” You ask. 

He interiorly sighs. He managed until now to shut down your demand for a comlink, but as more time pass, the more legitimate your demand gets. To make you wait he lended you a datapad, but making sure you couldn’t communicate with anybody with it. “Why would you want a comlink?” He asks innocently like he doesn’t understand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “To speak with people, obviously! I want to speak to my family, to Karyn too. It gets lonely here when you are on the bridge.” I also need to keep myslef inform on the current mission of the Chiamera.” You argue. 

“Comlinks are forbidden during remission.” He counters, “You should take this as an opportunity to meditate and recenter your focus on your discipline. A comlink would only distract you.” You frown, wrinkling your nose “I am not a child alright? I can have discipline and a comlink at the same time!”  

He shakes his head with a sorry expression, “The Imperial protocols are clear : no comlink during remission.” You groan and let yourself fall on the pillow, frustrated, “Captain Faro is terribly busy at the moment.” He gently explained, “She volunteered to take on your workload while you are healing, she has very little time for a friendly chat. But I can greet her on your behalf, she would be relieved to hear you feel better.” He diplomatically proposes. Which is a complete lie of course, Faro heard about your death from himself, something she is still brooding over. 

“And my familly? Did anyone warned them I was hurt? That I am better now?” you insist. “We do not signify families about every single wound an enlisted suffers Ch’acach, you know it.” He recalls you with just enough condescension in the the tone to still be subtle. You sigh, “This was not a simple wound, they have the right to know!”, “You will heal and walk out of it like it was nothing, why do you want them to worry? To them you are striving right now.”, “Am I striving to you?” You clap back, more and more annoyed. He slightly bows his head to you, “I mispoke, my apologies. My point is ; you will soon heal completely, there is no use to worrying them now. But I can transmit them a message from you if you wish.”  

You exhale through your nose, “Forget it. You are right, no need to warn them now. I will speak with them during my leave.” He gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “You need rest, Ch’acah. Sleep soundly, I will remain in the adjacent room if you need anything.” You nod and he enters the bathroom. You roll to the side when you hear the water running, your mind in ebullition. 

The entire bedroom smells like Thrawn and his delicious musk... Making your head spin dangerously. When you close your eyes to actually try to sleep like you pretended you will the vision of his mighty body imposes itself to you, making you shudder in shame. 

How dare you do that to your friend? Sexualising him like that! He saw you naked everyday (to your horror) since you are in his suite but he never was troubled by it. As he said to you he appears completely desensitized to naked bodies.  

You sigh, trying to get some sleep but the idea of Thrawn’s naked body next door is setting you ablaze, to your dismay. You wail, remembering that he will bath you once again and sleep in the same bed as you because you are so goddamn cold every night despite him checking the temperature each evening. 

Nothing will get spared to you in this trial... 

Far away from your confusion and guilt, Thrawn is enjoying his shower, imagining back your weight in his arms, the plump of your exposed thighs when you fell, the thinness of your human skin, the smoothness and infinite softness of it... He wanted to lick you so badly, every crook and crannies of your fragile body. A wretched smiles come stretches his lips. You would slap him across the face if he ever qualified you as fragile to your face 

And he would surely adore that... 

He sighs, letting hot water rolling on his thick Chiss skin. He wants you to dig your nails deep into his flesh so badly! To claw his back entirely, he wants to wear the scars of your passion in his flesh. He caresses his lips, remembering the plumpness of your own when he brushed them with his thumb. You were so surprised by his action you said absolutely nothing, letting him do as he pleased. 

He feels fire igniting in his sex as he remembers your heavy gaze checking him out. You tried to be subtle about it, but nothing escapes him. Ever. He lets his hand brushing his pecs to slowly going down his abs, feeling the powerful muscles rolling under his blue skin, retracing the path of your gaze on his body. He lightly chuckles as he saw your flushing cheek getting worse as you couldn’t help yourself but gaze longingly at him. His hand reaches his groin and he takes it firmly in his palm, gently playing with his tip, toying with himself.  

He always hated the way his past relationships complimented him on his physic, he remembers how he used to sleep with them in his clothes to not expose himself to their undeserving gazes. 

Now that he knows true passion for you he came to the realisation he never was truly in love with anyone else before, that none really catched his eyes, it was more of a way for him to get relief without real, deep sentiments from his part. He admits, now looking back, that the feeling of dirtiness he felt after every night with his former partners was not ‘normal’. That he just convinced himself he had to go throught that to not appear more... Out of place that he always has been.  

He is also naturally curious and wanted to understand, to try for himself, see what the fuss was about “couples” and “relationship” and “sex”. How disappointed he was, was that all? That was the things getting people crazy about? He remembers having to force himself to go to bed with his ‘lovers’ to get them off his back and being at peace, or they started to complain they were “neglected”. But he couldn’t help it, the act and the sentiments were just so utterly uninteresting and repulsive to him. He did derive pleasure from sex, but it definitely lacked something to truly be worth anything in his eyes. And even though he definitively appreciated the companionship and admiration his past lovers gave him, he now knows it wasn’t love on his part and he hated when they started to get “too” attached, too lovey dovey with him, it just got under his skin and when he was in their arms the only thing he could think about was the moment they would let go. So after several terribly unfruitful attempts he just threw everything to the bin and pursued his career and mission without a single look back. And he thrived, free of this burden. 

Until he met you. 

When he started to get interested in you everything became clear, obvious, evident... They simply weren’t you, his darling, his other half, his intended, his soulmate. He had to cross the entire chaos to finally meet you and understand what “love” truly meant but it was definitely worth it. 

With you he wants to try everything! Every fancies, every kinks, every dates, every whims! Absolutely everything! He knows you would never disappoint him. 

He sniffs in disdain thinking back at his now dead Captain, he spent a full hour scrubbing his entire body to wash her off him after she imposed herself on him! It was just so disgusting... 

He deeply inhales. She is dead now, and she had it coming. He should focus on you, laying next door, so close but also so far away at the same time... 

He gasps, desperantly wanting to feel your smaller hand around his girth. Will you ogle his cock with hunger like you just did his chest or recoil in fear of his size? Will you drool at the idea of having it in your mouth or panick at the possibility of it entering your little pussy? Will you cry of pleasure or pain when he will take you for the first time? Either way he will gladly lick your tears away, whispering sweet nothing in your ears to ease the tension and help you relax. 

He is so much more taller and larger than the average human and Chiss man, you will absolutely strangle his lenght in your tight little pussy no matter the time he takes to prepare you. What will you prefer as roleplay to get you nice and wet? He really hopes you will let him eat you out! He craves it so badly he sometimes wonders where he find the will to not jump on you right here and there... 

He closes his eyes as he starts fisting his cock, imagining your soft hand instead of his own. What kind of pace would you set? Will you play with his tip first or getting into it right away? Will you squeeze his lenght tight here and there or gently caressing it like a precious thing? Will you gently kiss his cheek and lips while giving him a handjob or will you avert your gaze and hide your face in the crook of his neck? 

So many delicious possibilities, so many different ravishing scenarios... 

He greets his teeth as he accelerates his back and forth movement of his hand, chasing his pleasure. He doesn’t have your scrupules and avidly masturbates at the simple thought of you. He doesn’t even need a lecherous vision, sometime just painting your gorgeous eyes in his mind gets him hot and bothered, carrying him to completion with ease.  

But nothing gets him going as the thought of him getting handcuffed to the bed and you riding him as you wish, imposing him your own pace and your own desires. He wants your hand squeezing his throat until he looses consciousness or slapping him across the face. He wants you to dominate him entirely, looking down at him in all your glory... Is that too much to ask? He wants you to gag him, to chain him up, to degradate him until he is just a puddle of mess and completely on edge.  

He never accepted his former lovers to take the lead. They never deserved to see that vulnerable part of him, he never wanted to reveal it to any of them. 

But you... 

For you he will relinquish all his powers and kneel before you to kiss your feet! 

He gasps as the pleasure courses though his entire body, fisting his cock harshly. He lets silent pleas escaping his lips, calling your name in a mute prayer as he agressively caress his dick. He takes support on the wet wall with one hand, the steam invaded the entire bathroom making it almost impossible to breath but he keeps going, panting with desire. He greets his teeth, imagining you naked in his Grand Admiral jacket, seating proudly on his command chair on the bridge, allowing him to lick your glorious little pussy in front of the entire crew. He rolls his hand in a fist and bites down his knuckle to silence himself. He wants you to force his face against your sex, suffocating him entirely but he would work so well on you, he will docilely obey your every commands. He envisions himself rising his gaze to met yours, full of disdain and contempt for him... 

He shudders, like hit by lightnings and comes at that vision. He comes all over his large hand, spilling his seed in the stall as he gasps, breathless.  

If only it was your hand... If only it was inside your sweet pussy... 

He lingers on that last thought...’If only it was inside your sweet pussy?’ 

He observes his seed smeared across his palm, absolutely fascinated like it was the first time he saw it. Yes... Why not after all? Why not inside your sweet little pussy? What if... You became pregnant? Round with his baby... He feels his breath catching in his throat, he likes that thought.  

He likes it A LOT.  

He envisions with new plump curves adorning your gorgeous body, your belly heavy with a baby. HIS baby. He imagines you walking around his suite with your proeminent belly, asking him for help because it gets in your way. He will need to satisfy every one of your needs and satisfy you throroughly to ensure a healthy baby! 

He can do that! Bend over backwards to please you and your babies, no questions asked! He shivers in anticipation at that simple thought. 

He realizes that this idea will not leave him anymore, no matter what he will do. 

He brings his hand to his lips and he gives a little lick at his palm, tasting his semen. 

Salty. 

Would it be to your taste? Would it be compatible with your organism? Are Chiss and humans compatible? 

Well, he has only one way to know it, doesn’t he? 

He takes back his breath, letting the water washing away his seed and finishes to clean himself. He slicks his hair back perfectly in front of the mirror, like absolutely nothing happened and takes out your stolen toothbrush of its secret spot to brush his teeth with it, savoring your taste in his mouth.  

As he exit the steaming bathroom he discovers you napping. You did end up going to sleep after all. He approaches silently, looming over your smaller form, his shining red gaze like a predator... He leans forward, devored by curiosity. 

Do you still have a scar on your neck? 

He pushes your hair out of the way to reveal your fragile neck to his vision, he lets the tip of his fingers traveling on your skin until he locates the thin scar let by the blade he stole from you. He gently caresses it, the taste of your blood invading his mouth once again. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and give a long, sloppy lick at your scar making you squirm and moan in your sleep. 

He caresses your cheek with his knuckles tenderly. Oh how much he loves you... Sometimes he feels like he gone absolutely crazy. 

And maybe he did... 

He gently kisses your cheek and leaves you to sleep undisturbed. He has your new drawing to study and dissect, he will have the pleasure to bathe you later down the day... 

@Bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbarstakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo  @germie2037 

#yandere au #thrawn x you #thrawn x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth' #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn smut #fanfic #vibratingskull

[oftenwantedafton]

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 4-6

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - mental health issues, no explicit content in these chapters

Also available on AO3 Chapter 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter 4 ~ the interview ~

Steve Raglan recognizes you.

It’s the strangest thing; when you’re first guided into his office, his welcoming voice is pleasantly neutral until he looks up from the paperwork on his desk and then the words of greeting trail off weakly. His eyes widen slightly behind the lenses of gold rimmed glasses, his lashes lifting briefly before they drop down once more. You’re convinced he’s definitely seen you before, though you can’t imagine where. The middle aged man doesn’t look familiar to you at all.

“Welcome, have a seat.” He recovers smoothly, gesturing at a vacant chair across from him.

You sit down, setting your backpack by your feet.

The bearded man opens a folder and glances at its contents, his eyes alternating between the pages and your face, his fingers tapping along the paper surface, as if he’s cataloguing something. The awkward silence lengthens and then he speaks again as if there’s been no lull. “So, I’ve got your contact information here. I understand you’re interested in a job at Freddy’s.”

You nod. “What positions are available?”

The career counselor spreads his fingers out. He talks a lot with his hands, you notice immediately; the long, well manicured fingers constantly in motion, punctuating each utterance. “Well, it really depends on where your interests lie and what your abilities are. The remodeling and construction will be done during the first couple of months, then training starts for the employees. We’re looking to get up and running by next spring.”

“We?”

“More accurately myself. Just speaking formally in the third person. I’m the sole proprietor.”

You blink in surprise. “You own it?”

“Yes.” He eases back into the swivel chair, slowly tapping a pen against his palm, studying your face. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“Um, I’m a senior. I turned eighteen this past summer.”

“References?”

“I babysit a lot. I’ve worked at a clothing store in the mall.”

“Experience with a cash register and with children, those are pluses.” He leans forward and marks something down on the paper in your folder. “Do you have a reliable source of transportation?”

“I typically walk everywhere or ride my bike, but my neighbor’s son is going away for college next year and he’s going to sell me his. That’s what I’ve been saving up for.”

“Potentially an issue with inclement winter weather in the near future, but I understand the mayor is planning on reinstating public transportation to the area, so…” Another mark. “What about your future goals? Plans for college? Do you see this as something temporary, or were you thinking about long term?”

Overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, you find yourself stammering your reply. “I…I’m not sure yet. I want to go, I’m just undecided about a major.”

Steve reaches for a glass dish set on the corner of his desk filled with hard candy, selecting one and making short work of the wrapper before popping it into his mouth.

“Help yourself.” He gestures to the sweets and you choose one, thinking it might be rude to decline, but don’t unwrap it yet.

You can hear the confectionery knocking against the man’s teeth as he rolls it with his tongue. “What would you say is your strongest subject in school? What are some of your hobbies?”

You fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie. “I don’t really excel at anything in particular. I enjoy English Literature and Art. I like writing and drawing.”

Raglan nudges the frames sliding down his nose absently, his gaze intent on your face. “What sorts of things do you write and draw?”

You shrug uncomfortably. You’re not used to talking about your interests with other people; not really used to anyone taking an interest at all. For a fleeting moment the yellow rabbit crosses your mind. “I do a lot of journaling. Drawing…I like animals, nature…I enjoy building models too….a bunch of different stuff, I guess,” you conclude lamely.

The older man hums thoughtfully, the pen now slack between his fingers, teeter tottering either end against the halfway filled page. “How would you describe yourself?” He begins to read off a list: “Motivated? Outgoing? Energetic? Team player?” He frowns, dropping the pen and focusing his attention on you. “I really hate these generic questionnaires. Just tell me in your own words. If you had to pick one word to describe yourself.”

“I…I guess I’m pretty introverted. I don’t really get along with people my own age.” You realize you’re not doing much to sell yourself for employment at a party themed restaurant and you hastily add, “I’m interested in the animatronics. I mean, I could do waitressing or food prep or whatever, but the behind the scenes stuff is what I’m really curious about,” you admit, surprising yourself. You’d never really given it much thought before now.

Steve abruptly leans forward, the motion reminding you of a cat pouncing on its prey. “Are you? Tell me more about that.”

“I don’t know. I want to understand how they function, I guess. Construction, maintenance. Everything. Not that I’m qualified for that, I know; but I’d be willing to learn.”

“A lot of engineering relies on the ability to think in the abstract. Piece together connections that aren’t immediately visible to the naked eye. Kind of like solving a puzzle but in three dimensions.”

You nod. “That’s what I find appealing.”

The diluted blue topaz irises continue to hold your gaze. “How interesting. Still waters run deep.”

You frown, puzzled.

“It means there’s more to you than meets the eye, basically. Quiet, withdrawn individuals tend to be grossly misunderstood.” He lifts the paper and slides in back inside the Manila folder. You hear the last dregs of the candy surrender to his teeth, crushed and pulverized between them. “You won’t be working at the front end. It would be an absolute waste of everyone’s time.”

“So…what does that mean?”

“Plan your schedule around having some afternoons and evenings busy by spring.”

“That’s it? I’m hired?”

His lips twitch, almost but not quite forming a smile. “Welcome on board.”

Chapter 5 ~ a warning ~

The front door of the pizzeria is no longer boarded up.

You slow your pace as you draw closer, cautiously studying the building, but you see no other signs that anything has been disturbed. You cup your hand and seat it against the glass front, trying to shield your eyes from the glare behind you to peer inside the restaurant. You can vaguely make out an archway just past the hostess’s podium, a checkerboard patterned floor, and a row of empty fifty cent prize machines, the candy and stickers and plastic toys long gone.

Your hand drifts down to rest on the door handle and you hesitate before pulling, not entirely expecting it to be unlocked, but the door swings open easily. It slams behind you after you venture inside, startling you.

The establishment’s interior is dim.

The light from outdoors can only reach so far. You hesitate on the verge of the dining room, eyes roving over the booths and tables. You can just barely see the curtained stage at the far end of the room, where the animatronics perform, now closed off from view by the heavy drapes.

“So you’ve returned.”

You jump again, heart thumping, head swiveling to find the source of the sound.

The yellow rabbit emerges from the shadows at the far end of the room, that tall figure weaving between the seating arrangements as if it is intimately acquainted with their placement. He stops with some distance still between you, leaning against a booth with a stained glass image of the restaurant’s lead mascot, folding his arms. The lit eyes are brighter today.

“You unbarred the door, right? Thank you.”

“No rain today. What’s the excuse this time? Or were you so charmed by our first conversation?” He sounds bemused, as if he’s enjoying some private joke.

“I…I came to tell you. They’re reopening the restaurant. So you should probably find somewhere else to stay.”

He laughs. “Child, I do not live here. And I’m well aware that it’s being restored to its former glory. Is that really what you came here for?”

You flush. “I’m not a child.”

“Barely past it.”

“I was trying to be nice. I thought I should warn you.”

The rabbit’s head tips thoughtfully. “You were genuinely concerned, weren’t you? Then I apologize for my abrasiveness. If it seems I’m ungrateful, it’s because I don’t have the opportunity to interact with others much. He does not let me out often.”

You frown but the strange creature does not elaborate.

“I’ve been hired to work here,” you say to break the sudden silence.

“And what will you be doing?”

“Working on the animatronics.”

“Interesting.” One steel cased finger taps along the forearm of the suit and something in the movement feels strangely familiar.

“Will you…will you be here? When the place reopens?”

You swear the figure is smiling now, impossible to see in the confines of the headpiece but oddly palpable in his speech. “Of course. I always come back.”

Chapter 6 ~ reflection~

The bathroom sink is full of water, the steady drops from the faucet into the plugged basin amassing into a clear pool inside the porcelain bowl.

William Afton stares at that liquid surface, at the ripples that disturb the calm with each drop, and he thinks about who he once was: a husband, a father. A successful business owner. An innovator. And how quickly those marked successes in life had been taken away one by one. How he’d exacted revenge for those losses, little by little, paid in blood.

He bends and plunges his hands into the cool water and splashes it over his face, as if can wipe away that identity so easily. Looking up at the mirrored medicine cabinet, the reflection there is the man he has been masquerading as, this Steve Raglan, Career Counselor. How tiresome the charade is, but needs must. It won’t be for much longer. Construction has proceeded ahead of predicted schedule. He’ll be able to start the employee training soon. He’d gotten a good response from the high school students. Cheap labor. A wise, economical decision he’d learned early on.

He blinks past the rivulets of water trickling over his face and it’s the yellow rabbit’s features he sees, the ravaged mascot staring back at him.

“That’s not why you chose her.”

William scowls. “Why did you let her back inside? Anyone could have gotten in.”

“No one did. No one has come near there for a long, long time.”

“She did.”

“That was incidental.”

“The first visit, maybe. Not the second time. She wanted to see you. She likes you.”

The rabbit shakes his head, his counterpart reflection doing the same. “She’s just a child.”

“On the verge of being an adult.”

The suited mascot leans closer, William’s own face now inches from the silvered surface. “She’s broken.”

“So am I.”

He laughs, the soft sound growing louder as it shakes free, the image in the mirror shifting back to the bearded’s man damp features.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #springtrap #fnaf fanfic #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf movie

[skunaskitten]

The Affair chapter 6

AU: human ceo sukuna x female reader

Contains: cheating, lying, yelling, angry sukuna, Sad sukuna, heart broken, depression, drinking,

Summary: Sukuna had lost everything he could ever want. He let you slip through his fingers and did not fix anything before it all came crashing, now he sits alone to himself.

Master list to other stories

chapter 5 ch6 chapter 7

 Sukuna woke up to see the early sun through the curtains of your window. A smile filled his face when he felt you still laying beside him asleep in his arms. Feeling your warmth and naked body pressed against him. He was enjoying his time with no care in the world but reality soon crushed everything. His wife. He told her he was coming back late, not the next day.

 He sat up quickly out of bed panicking which startled you awake when he got out of bed rushing to put his clothes on mumbling curses. "Sukuna? What happened?" He looked at you and said "I am late for work."

 You sat up holding the blanket against you seeing the bracelet he wore the whole time during sex. You are happy he likes it so much not to take it off. Sukuna got his pants on then walked over to you grabbing your face pressing his lips to yours. "I will see you later sweetheart go back to sleep." You slid out of the bed keeping the blanket around you and followed him out to the front door watching him put on his shirt and jacket he dropped on the floor as you picked up your clothes. A smile grew on your face after he left.

 When sukuna got to his building he hurried to the elevator and went into the home to hear how quiet it was. He looked around not seeing his wife then went into the room thinking she was asleep but still no sign of her. He rubbed the back of his neck and got dressed ready for work feeling bad for leaving you so soon. 

 Sukuna walked out into the hall then saw his wife walking out from her office and smiled at him. "Hey darling, I am going out for a while. Going to hang out with the girls I hadn't seen since before the trip." He smirked and said "alright then have fun." She gave him another smile and walked over to him placing a long kiss to his lips then bit his lower lip pulling it slightly. She pulled away from him giving him a wink then left him alone in the room with some of his employees staring at him. "What?! Go back to work!"

 When yami walked to her car she pulled out her phone and looked at the info that was sent to her from last night. "Let's go pay this little whore a visit."

 As you cleaned the apartment and started to reorganize your bookshelf out in the living room you heard a knock at your door. Curious as to who it is but also happy hoping it was sukuna. You ran to the door and opened it to see a woman standing there with her arms crossed. She looked like someone of high status as she smiled at you but you didn't know who she was until you looked at her face longer. 

  You were shocked to finally realize who she is, Sukuna's ex wife but you didn't know why she was here.

 "Hello you must be the little home wrecker." You raised an eyebrow saying "excuse me?" 

 She went through her purse and handed over a magazine to you. You snatched it from her hand and looked at the cover and your eyes widened in shock. On the page a picture of you and sukuna during the date. You were so confused why you and him would be on a magazine.

 "Do you not get it? I don't know what he sees in you. Let me explain it to you. Ryomen Sukuna is a ceo of a company and married to me. You and him had got caught in this little affair with you. All he sees you as is just a getaway from his stressful life, nothing more. He is married, why would he ever want you to be in his life. He is using you."

You snapped squeezing the magazine. "Go the fuck away! You are lying, he told me that you are his ex that always harassed him. Why should I ever believe anything you say." She laughed and said "honey read the magazine. If you still don't believe anything, why don't you look up his life and go ask him yourself. Though I doubt after this if he ever wants to see you again."

 You growled  saying "don't ever come near me and my man again you had your chance i guess you are not good anymore seems like you became useless to want me." She was about to come at you with angering her eyes but you slammed the door in her face and locked but you started feeling the tears start to form. "It's not true. Kuna never would lie to me." 

 You went back to your room and looked through the page reading about the questions if this was an affair happening or just a meeting. You swallowed a lump in your throat then pulled out your laptop to search for his name. 

 Feeling your heart race and nerves spike, with a shaky hand you clicked on different sites to see who he really was. Pictures of him showed up in his suits and business meetings with other men next to him. His dazzling smirk showing off and pink hair styled laying back across his head. Your heart felt like it stopped beating and started to crack.

 The many headlines you saw of their marriage and pictures recently of them together at after parties. "Ryomen.." your voice cracked as you closed the laptop and pushed it aside feeling your tears begin to leak from your eyes. "This is not real, it can't be."  You put on a sweater, taking your phone and the magazine then left your apartment to get answers. 

 Finding the name of his company was easy so you took a train to the area trying to keep your eyes away from other passengers not wanting them to see how upset you were. When you got there walking up to a tall building with the names of malevolent shrine in glowing red letters. You took a deep breath feeling the anger rise as you walked through the doors and came up to the front desk.

 A woman saw you and smiled asking if you had a meeting or here for another matter. 

 "Let me see ryomen sukuna." She looked at you and said "I am sorry miss but no one can not see mr sukuna unless it's a business meeting."

 You cut her off talking louder "I need to see him now tell him y/n is here to see him who knows who that is." She rolled her eyes then picked up a phone pressing on the number pad and said "hello sir some here by the name of y/n is here to see you."

 Sukuna heard the name and froze with a shock of the world stopping. "Send her up to me."

 He hung up and stood up from his desk. How the hell did you find him? Do you know who he is now? He fixed his tie leaning against the front of his desk looking at his doors waiting for you to walk through. A security guard opened the door as you walked through as it closed behind you. 

 The world stopped as he stared at you but then he smirked saying "well hello there sweetheart I am surprised you found me."

"Shut up sukuna." 

 He raised his eyebrows hearing your tone and it didn't sound happy. Fuck.

 "Do not talk until you answer my question. Are you married?"

 Sukuna felt his heart drop. So you found out. He went to say something then looked away from you. He could not look at you feeling the guilt.

"Yes."

 Tears filled your eyes as you squeezed the magazine then threw it at him. He looked at it then to you not knowing how you got one of those, he stopped those from being produced  so how did you end up with one.

 "I fucking can not believe this. You lied to me! You used me played with my fucking heart! All to get away from your marriage! How long were you going to do this to me?!"

 His jaw clenched as he swallowed heard he wanted to speak but he was feeling fear for the first time. Fear of hurting you more, fear of never being happy again. The fear of losing you.

"Beautiful please believe me I love you."

 "Do not call me that! You don't love me. Because if you did you would not be using me for your pleasure. Was this all a lie?"

 Sukuna walked a little closer to you and said "no none of my feelings for you were a lie I do really love you. Please believe me. All those moments we shared together. Yes at first it was just a way to finally be free again to do what I want but then that moment in my car I fell in love I was scared to admit. But it slipped because that is how I truly felt about you and I knew I fucked up by loving you."

 You stared at him feeling tears roll down your cheeks. 

 "So I was a fuck up then. Just another thing in your rich ass life to use. I knew I shouldn't have fallen for you. I should have just ran away but I was finally happy to be with someone who cared about me. To finally think that I could have a family and life where I can come home to be with a beautiful man that I love. Thanks for destroying that dream Mr. Sukuna."

 Sukuna saw you turn away crying, breaking apart in front of him. 

"No, don't say that. I told you I was not good for you. My marriage is nothing but a cash grab it was arranged I didn't feel loved in this fucking marriage. When I got older I wanted to feel that romance that heart throbbed moments. Then I ran into you and I could not believe who I found. I finally found that woman that makes my heart throb. Please listen to me. You are all I want, all I need."

 You shook your head looking at him and gazed at the bracelet still on his wrist and it made your heart tear in half. 

 "Sukuna to know you were married going home to your wife fucking her when you were ignoring me spending time with her. It hurts. It does not make you better that you went behind her back and did it. She told me who you were. I am glad she did before we did something stupid."

 You turned away from him saying "goodbye sukuna" and started to walk away from him. Sukuna did not want you to walk out of his life, he wanted to fix it. He walked to you quickly grabbing your wrist.

"No you are not leaving. Please stay."

 You tried to pull your arm out of his grasp. "Ryomen let me go! I don't want you any more! We are over sukuna!"

 He shook his head giving pleading eyes. "Stay with me I will file for a divorce then I can show you how much you mean to me please. Yesterday when we slept together I wanted to get you pregnant because I want that life with only you."

 You growled feeling yourself snap hearing how selfish he is he wouldn't let you go and you wanted to be alone for good. "Y/n do not leave!"

 Suddenly in a blurr sukuna heard a smack and a stinging pain on his cheek then let you go staring at you with wide eyes. You looked at him and everything between you two fell silent. Seeing the red mark form on his face, your heart twisted, feeling hurt from everything and feeling bad for hitting him. Tears spilled out as your lip quivered then you finally moved away, whimpers came out as you ran out of his office. 

 Sukuna stood there staring at the door letting you run out of his life. You ran past people out of the building hiding your face away from people in his building questioning what had happened.

 His hand went into his hair gripping it feeling his heart shatter this pain was worse than anything he felt. "Fuuuck!" Sukuna yelled out and gripped one of the chairs, throwing it and hearing some glass break. Going by his desk he swiped everything off of it yelling. He is upset with himself and his life, angry more at the fact he hurt you after he promised to keep you safe and happy. 

 He slammed his hands on his desk hearing his door open. Satoru had come in hearing the noise and talk already going around the place, seeing the office destroyed. "Get out!" Sukuna yelled and turned to see his friend standing there shocked. But gojo was even more frozen because for the first time in his life with sukuna he saw a tear roll down his cheek.

 When you got home you threw your stuff down onto the floor and looked around not knowing what else to do. You just finally broke down as you dropped in bed crying your heart out. Yelling at the world but into your pillow. Why did this all happen? 

 Sukuna wasn't done with his anger after gojo had told him to go and he will clean up the mess, sukuna went straight to his home and slammed the door hard catching the attention of his dear wife. 

"Yami!" His voice roared through the home.

 She came out with a smile but then saw the state he was in, the red puffy eyes hair a mess and she smirked knowing what happened.

"Hey sukuna what happened to you? You look like a mess."

 "Dont fucking play this bull shit game with me yami. You knew about me and y/n. So you chose to fuck with my life and confront her." His eyes flared with anger.

 She giggled saying "sukuna you are a business man no need to be fucking around with little gold digger sluts like her." 

 Sukuna threw his fist into the wall leaving a dented shape of his fist into it staring at his wife. "Do not ever talk about her like that. She will always be more of a woman than you."

 She gulped looking at the wall then to him.

 "We are getting a divorce now!"

"But sukuna, it was arranged for our companies. If you back out now my father won't be happy and he will take that half away from you. Think about the business, think about other people for once. Think about the money you will lose."

 He growled at her and stalked towards her. "I am thinking of other people. I am thinking about her and my life. I never asked for this fucking marriage I want a wife who does not see me as a bank. I want a wife like her."

 She crossed her arm looking away saying "I don't see the point she won't take you back now."

 Sukuna felt the jab at his heart and yelled out "get the fuck out of my home! I am done!" She flinched from his voice and went into the room packing a few suitcases as sukuna sat in the living room waiting for her to leave. She came back out with two cases and said "ryomen please take care of yourself. I do say you make a great husband." All he did was growl.

 When she finally left, Sukuna was alone. He looked around then put his face into his hands and ran them through his hair. After sitting there for a few minutes he stood up taking a deep stuttered sigh feeling his chest ache and eyes red, glazing over with his tears. 

"Fuck every one."

 Sukuna walked into the bedroom and started to go through all the stuff, putting the rest of yami's things into trash bags and taking it to the front door. 

 He sat in front a window with a drink in hand staring at the city life, the bottle next to his feet trying to hold back tears with his hand wrapped up in a bandage feeling the pain but nothing compared to the hole in his heart. The shame he felt for all this he wanted to hide away from the world feels the spirits even watching him and looking down on him. Sukuna got up sucking in a breath and picked up the bottle tossing it into the sink with the glass cup and went into his room.

 The room now was filled with just his stuff and himself. Not even you to lay with him. Sukuna sat on his bed staring at the bracelet feeling his chest ache as he ran his fingers over the gold tiger. He had never taken off this bracelet ever since you gave it to him. 

 "Y/n I am sorry. I really don't deserve you any more for the pain I put you through." 

 He untied the rope to the bracelet and took it off feeling guilty for even doing this action then placed it on his table. While he laid in bed he couldn't sleep. He stayed awake staring at everything in the room. Thinking of just getting up to see you, to pull you into him and kiss you to try to make up with you. But the look you gave him seeing your broken heart he will not be able to see you without breaking down and begging on his knees.

 His heart and body wanted you next to him to feel your warmth. To make his pain go away. To see you smile and feel your lips on his skin. 

 "Why does this hurt so much?" He rested an arm over his face not wanting the world to see him shed silent tears over a woman he fell so deeply in love with and watched a s he shattered her heart.

ahh my heart. Sukuna and the reader poor babies. Finally his wife is gone.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #ceo!sukuna #ceo!sukuna x reader #ceo!au #the affair

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Insufferable (1/7)

My sick!Vox fic is finally up, or at least part 1 is! Decided to break into what I think will be 2 chapters. Featuring an insufferable bastard, plus caretaking from the Vees.

Next chapters: 2 3 4 5 6 7

Wavs: 1 3

———————————

“Why are the lights so fucking bright in here? Are you trying to give me a headache?” Vox was often a bit of an insufferable prick, but today he was far worse than usual. His interview for Voxtech Angelic Security was just an hour away and he’d already managed to insult pretty much everyone in the room. The lights dimmed, he returned to a previous complaint. “And why haven’t you turned the AC colder already? It’s like a sauna in here!”

“The AC is already as cold as it goes, sir.”

“Then fix it! God, what am I even paying you for?” He paused, then pulled out his cell phone. “Hey Val, are you free right now? I got an employee I’d like you to knock some sense into—or rip the limbs off of, whichever you prefer. I could do it myself, but I know how much you enjoy that thing.”The employee shuddered. “Great, thanks! See you soon.”

Vox looked around. “Where is my water bottle? There should be one on the interviewing desk. Is anyone around here doing their goddamn job?” Another employee rushed over with a water bottle. “Finally.” He took a sip and immediately grimaced. “Where did you get this? Normal water doesn’t scrape my throat like that! Disgusting.” He threw the water bottle aside, pausing only to make sure the lid was on first.

He took a deep breath, which immediately triggered a coughing fit, his voice crackling like a broken speaker. His screen went grey and fuzzy, static flaring with each cough. “Who did the last maintenance on the filtration system?” A sheepish woman stepped forward. “Fix it! Actually, no. Get out. You’re fired. The air is so thick in here I can hardly breathe.” She hung her head and wandered off. It wasn’t like she was the first to be fired on a whim, and at least Vox didn’t literally tear people apart. “I’ll take a look at it along with the AC, then, sir,” the employee from earlier offered.

“You’d better. But don’t think that’s enough to save you,” Vox said, standing so close the employee could hardly hear anything over the fan. “Val’s still on his way.” The employee gulped.

Valentino began shivering the moment he stepped in the door, but he ignored that and made a beeline for Vox. “Where’s the victim?” he asked with a grin.

Vox pointed to the man cowering in the corner. “He won’t fix the AC.” Val nodded, still shivering. “He says it’s already as cold as it can go, but I’m boiling here!” Val raised an eyebrow at that. A loud whirring started as Vox’s fans kicked in.

Val put a hand on Vox’s forehead, and jerked it away almost immediately. “Amorcito, you’re incredibly hot!”

“Save it for later, Val,” Vox chuckled.

“No, I mean it’s hard to believe how much you’re overheating. And in a freezing room, no less. I thought my hand was going to burn!” Vox crossed his arms and shook his head. “I mean it, Vox, you’re obviously running a fever!”

“Shut up. I’m fi… hi…” his screen flickered with each hitch. “Hi’tzzzcht! Fine.”

“Sir?” The employee raised a finger tentatively, regaining some boldness now that neither of them was ripping him apart. “One of the lights just broke.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me? Just fix it! Ugh, it’s a wonder anything gets done around here.” He gave a long sniff, trying to stave off the buzzing tickle. “And send a cleaning crew in. It’s way too du… huh… huh… hut’TZZZZSHT! Dusty in here.”

“We just cleaned yesterday…” the employee said weakly, trying not to look at the speaker that had just popped.

“I didn’t ask you when the last cleaning was, I asked you to clean the damn studio! Now get on with it before I change my mind and let Val rip your arms off.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The employee practically ran off to begin his tasks as Val gave a toothy grin, looking menacing despite the intense shivering.

“There you go. I’ll be back here for the sound check. And this place better be fucking spotless.”

Vox and Val walked out the door. “I’ll catch you at the penthouse,” Vox said, activating his teleportation powers. He only made it a few feet. “Hhh’dzzzzcht!” The hallway lights flickered.

“How about we walk together?” Val offered, wrapping his arm around Vox. Vox sighed, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. Repeatedly teleporting a few feet at a time sounded even more annoying than walking. While they walked, Val pulled out his phone with his free hand to text Velvette. “Meet at the penthouse ASAP.”

Velvette almost dropped her phone when she saw the pair of them walk through the door. “Walk” was actually a bit of an overstatement. Vox was practically staggering, leaning heavily on Val for support. His screen was dimmed, except for a bright spot in the center where his nose would be, if he had one. His fans were still whirring loudly. His normally immaculate suit was wrinkled, as if he’d crumpled in on himself repeatedly. The man was, quite obviously, a mess.

Velvette stared in silence for a moment. “Wow. He really does look awful, doesn’t he?”

Vox glared. “I’m fine. I’m just taking a quick break before the studio’s ready for my interview. Those morons still have a lot to set up.” The pair stared at him.

“Um, Vox? You sure now is the best time for an interview?” Velvette asked.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his hypnotic eye swirling so slowly it might as well be a broken Ferris wheel.

“Right,” Velvette said, rolling her eyes as Vox’s screen flickered again. “Totally fine, and definitely not about to sneeze.”

“I’m not going to… hih’tzzzzch!” He opened his mouth to protest more, but no sound came out. Damn it, were his audio drivers glitching too? Or was it just his vocal cords? He smacked the side of his head with a grimace. “The interview has to be today. If I delay it, it’ll look like we’re hiding something.” Thank god that worked. Vox without his voice was… well, he really didn’t want to think about that.

Velvette raised an eyebrow. “You literally just smacked yourself in the head cause you couldn’t talk. You really think you’re in a good state to be giving an interview?”

Vox’s screen brightened for a moment. “I’m fine! It’s fixed now.” His screen dimmed again, then started flickering. “I’m perfectly heal… heh… hhh… healthy! Just let me go to the godda… ehh… ahh… hah’TZZZZSHT! The goddamn interview.” Valentino’s phone instantly shut off. Velvette, seeing this, clutched her phone tightly to her chest.

Val tried turning his phone back on, but it was unresponsive. “You broke my phone, Vox. You broke my fucking phone! What else are you gonna break if you go back in there?”

Vox frowned. Loath as he was to admit illness, it really was in his best interest to minimize property damage. Especially with a live audience.

“I’ll do the interview,” Velvette offered.

Vox gave a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit, his screen a sputtering mess of static again. “No offense, Velvette, but I’m pretty sure you’re not familiar with the ins and outs of the system.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not recognizing you don’t have a lot of options. Would you rather send Valentino?”

The other two recoiled at the suggestion. “God, no!” Vox replied. “Ugh, I guess if you really want to, go knock yourself out. My notes are on that tah… hhh… ahh… hah… hah’TDZZZCHT! Tablet.” Said tablet was now stuck in bluescreen. “Shit.” He rubbed his aching head, trying to think.

“Are the notes backed up like the rest of your files?” Vox nodded, not even trying to speak this time. “I can pull it up on my phone, then. I’ve got this. Backbone of the Vees, remember? You just stay here and get some rest,” she said, blowing a kiss as she left.

Velvette strutted out the door, taking with her the responsibility that had been keeping Vox together, and it was like a switch had been flipped. Vox immediately plopped himself down on the couch, limbs dangling limply. “Everything huuuurts, Val.”

“I know, Amorcito, that’s why I’m here.” He gently stroked Vox’s arm. “Now, is it really everything? Or can you be a bit more specific so I can actually help you?”

Vox’s mouth moved, but no words. A frown. A throat clearing sound. More mouth movement, still no words. A deeper frown. A self-inflicted smack on the side of the head. Still no words. The fans kicked into high gear as Vox was about to spit steam out of his head.

“Shh, gentle, Voxy. Let’s try not to blow out the power grid again, hm?” Val patted Vox’s screen. “I’ll get you something for your throat.” He searched through the fridge for some Gatorade. Electrolytes had to do something for an electric being, right? In the absence of any speech from Vox, the fans were even more noticeable. Better grab a cold compress from the freezer too, then. He placed the cold pack on Vox’s screen and handed him the bottle. Vox took a sip and shook his head. His voice still failing him, Vox made images appear on the screen. Val blinked, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

“Something wrong with the drink?” A nod. “Tastes bad?” Head shake. Val tried to think what could possibly be wrong with a drink. “Too liquidy?” Vox rolled his eyes. “Wrong color?” A facepalm. “Uh… too cold?” Vigorous nodding, and then a wince and a dizzy expression. “I got it. Just rest here, Vox. I’ll find you something.”

Val returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug of tea. Vox’s screen was dim and pale, the colors washed out. His weak fingers could barely grasp the handle of the mug. “Oh, Voxy, you poor thing,” Val said, his wings wrapping around Vox for support. The steam from the drink got into Vox’s vents and his screen started flickering. Val noticed immediately and set the mug on a nearby table, holding Vox through the buildup.

“Hhh… hhhh… hhh… hhht’dzchhht! Hhhh’zzzzch! Hhh’ZZZZZSHT! Htchh’RRRRGZZZZZZT! Ugh.” The demon clawed at his throat, then paused in realization. “Fucking hell that hurt!” He winced. “Talking hurts.” Still, better to have a functioning voice, he supposed. He gestured to the mug, and Valentino handed it to him. He took a sip, grimaced, and then finished the rest of the mug in one gulp. Val surveyed the room and realized that a few of the TV screens were out. “Let’s get you into bed, hm?” Vox raised an eyebrow. “Not like that! Unless you want to, of course…” he added, licking his lips. Vox shook his head, exhausted. Val led Vox to the bedroom, the TV clinging hard to the moth as he took a few shaky steps. Val paused, then nodded to himself. He hoisted Vox over his shoulder, ignoring the spluttering protests. “Amorcito, you can barely walk. Let me carry you for a bit.”

Vox huffed, and Val felt the static shock. “You could at least have the decency to carry me like your partner instead of, I don’t know, a corpse?”

Val chuckled. “Have you seen yourself, darling? You practically are a corpse at this point.” Still, he switched to bridal carry.

After what felt like an eternity, dragged out by Vox’s complaining that he was on death’s door, they finally reached the bed. Val laid Vox down and sat next to him. “Now then, does everything still hurt? What can I get you?”Vox’s lips moved silently, then rapidly into what Val assumed to be a string of curse words. Hard to tell without audio. Val sighed. “You really are feeling awful, aren’t you?” Vox nodded. Val stared at Vox for a while until the moth’s singular brain cell finally came up with an idea. He blew a puff of smoke in Vox’s face. Vox flinched, and his screen flickered rapidly. “Hhh… hih… hhhh’dzzzzzzcht! Hih’tzzzzsh! Hah’TZZZZZCHT! TZZZSH! Tzzzsch’TZZZZZST’dzTZZZZZSSHHT! What the fuck, Val?” He rubbed his throat. “Oh. Uh… thanks, I guess? I don’t know. That fucking sucked.”

“If you’d rather not repeat that, then I suggest you get your words out now before you lose your voice again.”

Vox scowled, but he knew it was a valid point. “I just… I’m sore all over. It’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this?” Val raised a finger. “Besides everything that got me into hell.” Val shrugged. “Ugh… my throat hurts, my head hurts, all my muscles ache, there’s this constant buzzing in the back of my head that won’t go away, everythig is blisterigly warmb whatever I try… oh for fugck’s sake, I get congestiod dnow too? Ughhhh…” He groaned and rolled over, faceplanting into the bed.

Val tutted sympathetically. “You never do anything half-assed, do you?” Vox nodded, dragging his screen across the blanket. “Vox, if you’re feeling so warm, why are you still wearing all those clothes?” A pause. Vox wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “There’s no image you need to keep up right now, Vox. Let’s get you comfortable.” Vox sat up and let Val get to work. The crumpled suit was set on a nearby chair. The sweater and shirt were pulled off and tossed to the same chair, Vox dropping his arms instantly the moment he no longer needed to put in the energy to keep them up. The shoes were removed and the pants taken off and folded up with care. As soon as it was done, Vox collapsed face down into the bed again, breathing heavily from the effort.

“You said you’re sore all over, would you like a massage, Amorcito?” A thumbs up. Val got up to find the massage bar. They’d found that using a more solid form helped avoid any accidents… they did NOT need a repeat of the time poor Vox got massage oil stuck in his vents. Val began massaging Vox’s arms, but paused when he felt Vox’s shoulders shudder.

“Hhhh’dzzzzzzchmp!” The sound was muffled into the bed. Vox slowly dragged himself up until he was facing Val. “Hit’chZZZZZZZCHT!” Sparks flew from Vox’s screen and landed on Val’s arm.

“Keep your sparks to yourself, Vox!” he said, wincing at the static shock. “Hmm… that might explain the electronics failures…”

“Sorry, Val.” He said, rubbing his screen. “Wasd’t expectig it to comb that fast.” He gave a long sniff. “Hhhhh’dZZZZZZT!” He pointed at the massage bar. “Can you put that away? I think the scent is too strong right now, my sensors must be acting up.”

Val switched to an unscented massage bar and resumed the massage. A few soft moans from Vox let Val know that his attempts were effective. Eventually the sound dropped off entirely, except for the occasional sneeze, which Val assumed meant the video demon’s voice had given out again. After a while, there was no sound at all except for congested breathing. Val gently turned Vox on his back, revealing closed eyes. Val breathed a sigh of relief. The man was much less exhausting when he was unconscious. Maybe now both of them could get some rest.

#my snezfic #snezbin hotel #srsly pls help me come up with a better title lmao #chapter 2 will have more of Velvette - a snippet of the interview and then some caretaking when she comes back after the interview #also I don’t care if it’s ooc to have Val be this caring you can pry caretaking tropes from my cold dead hands #man I love writing this tv demon there are so many fun things to play with

[luminetti]

𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 2

༘⋆Notes: sorry for the wait! This chapter turned out a lot longer than expected and I had more I wanted to include but it was too difficult to fit in. Ch3 will have more conflict, so until then, enjoy some fluff and pure idiocy at the end.

༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆[2]┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆

ao3

It goes without saying that you had absolutely zero plan for taking in a near-corpse. Amongst the various other oversights, you were particularly struggling with finding a way to sneak breakfast into your room every morning. Despite Gale’s remarks, you thought yourself to be fairly crafty. The good ol’ ‘stuff-a-pancake-in-your-pocket’ trick was one of your proudest ideas, even if your company refused to see the ingenuity of your ways. You thought it worked well enough for the time being, but with Gale’s slow healing and several pockets worth of maple syrup, you reluctantly decided to look for other options.

Unfortunately, your search was ultimately cut short one night in the kitchen by none other than Sebastian Neredras, your eldest sibling.

“Put the bread down.” Sebastian spoke from the doorway, arms crossed. Ever since your father had died, Sebastian had taken on a more authoritative role with you and Euphemia. Though you would assume that he had more important things to worry about than interrogating you at eleven at night.

Turning slowly to face him, you slipped the thick piece of focaccia into your dress pocket. “What bread?”

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Tav Neredras,” he began, hauntingly calm.

Yikes. Full name.

“What is it for?” Sebastian continued, sternly.

From behind him, you could see Euphemia watching from the foyer, distraught.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me.” He shifted his weight, blocking Euphemia with his body. “Bread. Explain. Now.”

You tore off a piece of the focaccia in your pocket and popped it into your mouth. “Midnight snack?”

Sebastian’s fingers tightened into a fist and he took another slow breath in. Turning around, he diverted his attention to your sister. “Phemie, by Jove, my fist will–lovingly–be through this wall if you don’t tell me this instant.

You focused all your efforts into burning a stare into your poor sister’s eyes. Out of everyone you’ve ever met, she had the loosest tongue by far.

She apologetically met your stare as she blurted out, “He’s a Viscount!”

From the doorway, you watched as Sebastian’s posture visibly stiffened and he turned with bone-chilling fluidity. “And who, exactly, is ‘he?’”

Mustering up your best innocent smile, you cleared your throat. “Gale Dekarios.”

“–of Waterdeep.” Euphemia chimed quietly.

Sebastian hastily strode towards the guest room with Euphemia in tow. He had just barely placed one hand on the door knob when your sister cleared her throat, eyes flashing towards your bedroom door.

In disbelief, Sebastian slowly crouched to his knees as if all energy had finally left his body. His eyes closed and his chest heaved with several drawn out breaths. “Tell me you didn’t.”

You silently teetered on your heels. “I, uh, I think we both know.”

His breath came out all at once in a shaky exhale. “Phemie, please offer the Viscount a proper dinner.” Sebastian slumped against the wall, utterly defeated. “I will set up the guest room.”

“What about-

Sebastian held up a hand, cutting you off with his eyes still closed. “I can’t- I don’t- I’m not even going to start with you.” Pointing to the corner of the dining room, he waved you away. “Just sit. Sit and think about your actions.”

✣ ✣ ✣

To your surprise, a fortnight passed by fairly smoothly. Sebastian most definitely not gotten used to Gale’s presence, but he was handling it… well. Gale was more like a house pet than anything else. You and your siblings each took on different roles when it came to caring for the Viscount. Euphemia started to cook larger portions for each meal while you managed his healing process. Sebastian probably helped in some way as well, though he was quite adamant that it was not his issue to deal with.

Gale seemed to be faring well, despite his situation. You had been routinely checking up on his wound, changing the bandages when needed, and tracking the medication that he was on. Despite your consistent encounters, you knew almost nothing about the Viscount and vice versa. Well, that was until about a couple days after he was ‘accepted’ by Sebastian and moved into the guest room.

It began slowly.

Every so often when you came to check on Gale or bring him dinner, he somehow found a way to slip in a question about your personal life. Your favorite colors, foods, flowers, all of which he managed to slowly pluck out of you, night after night. Honestly, you were pretty astonished at his perseverance. However, you were perhaps even more astonished at your own reciprocity, easily relinquishing facts and anecdotes about yourself each time he asked. You were fond of most colors with the exception for certain shades of orange, you could not stand tomatoes, and you were particularly fond of eglantine flowers.

Occasionally you even found yourself asking questions back to him. After only a week you learned that he prefers the color violet, enjoys fancy wine, and his favorite flower is–appropriately–the violet.

“I never did ask,” you began one night, sitting down for the routine bandage change. “How did you manage to get this?” With the wound exposed you could see the ripples where the bullet tore his skin alongside the taut scarring that covered the edges.

Gale bristled as you pressed a cold cloth dipped in medicine against his abdomen. “It was a duel,” he explained. “I had received a letter from someone, requesting to meet on the outskirts of Waterdeep.”

You removed the cloth to apply more ointment. “Sounds like quite some havey-cavey business.”

He chuckled, humorlessly. “I’d have realized it sooner had the letter been adequately labeled with the true correspondent.” Sitting up, Gale leaned towards you, allowing for easier access to his wound. “In place of the woman I was expecting was a man who demanded an affair of honor–a duel, in her name.”

For some reason you couldn’t fight back a sharp pain in your chest at the mention of his old flame. Well… you assumed it was old. “I suppose tabletop games are more your style,” you offered, attempting to liven the gloomy atmosphere.

Gale let out a heavy breath, his body easing at your change of subject, seemingly relieved. He placed a hand on the new white gauze covering his abdomen, thanking you quietly as you collected the old bandages and exited his room.

As you walked down the hallway, you found yourself heading towards the withdrawing room. Adorning the walls were your paintings from over the years, a variety of several still life subjects and a couple portraits of your siblings. The soft glow of moonlight beamed into the room, illuminating the thin layer of dust on each surface, appropriate for the lack of usage in the past couple months. You had been so occupied with Gale’s condition that you hadn’t had the chance to even think about painting. The more you examined your surroundings, bittersweet nostalgia festered in your gut, tugging you towards your abandoned easel.

A quick paint wouldn’t do any harm, you thought to yourself, placing a fresh canvas on the platform and settling into the stool. You stared at the large white cloth for a couple minutes, considering your subjects. There was still life of course, but you had painted pretty much everything in the room already. Well, everything except the old chessboard. For as long as you remember, that chessboard had never moved from the small table in the corner. Sebastian had spent hours in your youth attempting to teach you the most popular openings, despite your inability to remember which way the ‘horse’ piece moved. A subject for another time, you decided, looking for something else.

A faint glow of purple caught your eye through the window. Looking closer, you spotted a small patch of violets in the garden, accompanied by various other colorful flowers.That’s right, Euphemia loved floriography and had taken an interest in gardening several years ago. Before your father’s death, she had several flora related projects. One of which being an attempt at a rainbow garden with ombre flowers packed neatly in the dirt.

Instinctively, you felt your hand rise, placing quick strokes along the canvas and blocking out the basic shapes of the garden. Once you were satisfied with the sketch, you fished around for your palette and paints, blowing off the dust and flicking away dried pieces stuck to the tubes. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a rhythm, painting like you had years ago. Maybe it was the way your mind quietly wandered, or the soft scratch of bristles on canvas, but you found yourself drifting off as you worked. Your movements slowed until finally, you let your head rest in your arms beside the abandoned paint palette.

The next thing you knew, a warm palm gently nudged you awake. The moonlight from before had been replaced with bright morning sunbeams that bore down onto you and your painting as you awoke.

“A bit of an odd place to sleep, but whatever suits your fancy,” a warm voice resounded in your ear, startling away your grogginess.

You jolted awake to see Gale observing your unfinished painting, looking it over.

“Oh, good morning.” You yawned, stretching your aching back.

Gale’s attention turned back to you, standing quietly off to the side.

Gale?

Standing?

Snapping upright in your stool you stared at him, standing right in front of you as if perfectly fine. “What are you doing up?” You rushed to your feet, placing a hand underneath his arm and hustling him into the chair beside the old chessboard.

“There’s no need for this,” he complained, but sat anyway despite his protests.

Surely it hadn’t healed that fast?

You hesitantly nudged the bandage covering his stitches, waiting for a response. To your surprise, he made no move to flinch or push you away.

“Nothing?”

He shrugged in reply.

“How bizarre..” you pondered out loud. What could have possibly quickened the process so much? You certainly weren’t that good at medicine.

If Gale was surprised, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked quite bored of the topic, as if his good health was old news. Instead, his focus turned to the dusty chess board.

“Do you play?” he asked, instinctively setting up the board.

It had certainly been a while. You barely remembered what the pieces did. You knew the pawn and King can one square per turn, but that’s about where your memory left off.

“Of course I play,” you confidently countered, scooting your chair to sit across from him. “Quite masterfully, actually.”

Gale’s brows rose in disbelief. “”Really now? Well, I’ll be sure to perform at my highest.”

In a matter of about four turns, he had your King completely pinned in checkmate. From across the table, you glowered at the board.

“Yes, quite masterfully,” he chuckled, amused at your bewildered expression.

“These things are useless.” You toyed with the pawn between your fingers, tossing it back onto the board where it rolled miserably in a circle before coming to a pitiful stop. “What even is this?” You picked up a strange paintbrush-looking piece.

Gale stifled a laugh, watching you scowl at the small piece of wood like it killed your entire family. “That would be a bishop,” he spoke as he gently took it from you. Placing it on the board, he slid the piece diagonally across the squares.

“As far as it wants?”

“As far as it wants.”

You hummed, absently watching as he deftly reset the board. Gale seemed brighter today. Gone was his sickly hue, replaced with a much warmer liveliness.

He made two moves, starting by moving one of his pawns two spaces forward, then pushing out his bishop several paces diagonally.

“This is an opening. Bishop’s opening, if you want to get technical,” he told you, gesturing to the board. “It’s a specific series of moves to set up for a specific strategy.”

You stared as he deftly played against himself, taking pieces back and forth until he had won. And well, lost.

There was a sense of expertise in the way he moved around the board, as if years had been spent practicing. You found yourself wondering if he taught himself everything he knew, or if it was learned from someone else. Either way it was certainly impressive.

“So you’re an egghead?” 

Gale shuddered dramatically, clutching his heart. “Harsh words! I’ll have you know, I prefer ‘well-read.’”

Alright, sure. You admit he was charismatic. The way he looked at you through eyes creased by a smile never failed to elicit a strange uplifted atmosphere. You couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter than air whenever he was around.

“My brother used to be really interested in chess,” you started. The ambience of warm sunlight and good company left you relaxed enough to begin rambling about whatever came to mind. “He tried to teach me but I didn’t get it at all so he gave up and tried to teach Euphemia, but that didn’t work out cause she felt bad about ‘getting her soldiers killed’ so he gave up again.”

You told him about your attachment to the knight piece, which you only recently learned was actually called a ‘knight’ and not a ‘horse’ like you originally thought.

On the subject of horses, you had one as a stuffed animal, actually. Bought from a local vendor and gifted to you by Sebastian for your tenth birthday. He had suggested horse-like names, like Chestnut, or Horace. But in childlike fashion, you settled on the name ‘Horse.’

“How creative,” Gale spoke, snapping you back into reality.

You stared at him puzzled for several seconds until coming to the mortifiying realization that you had bombarded him with tales of your childhood stuffed animal.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he grinned, a glint of mirth in his eyes.

The room felt significantly warmer than before, making you squirm in your seat. “You should’ve said something sooner.”

Gale chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, almost too earnestly to be genuine. “On the contrary, I’m a bit disappointed that I said anything at all. You showed no signs of stopping.”

“Please, don’t remind me.”

He waved you off, leaning back in his seat. “You listened to my chess talk. It’s only fair.”

You pursed your lips, still a bit mortified. “It’s your turn in that case. Drone on.”

“Drone?” He dramatically gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m offended, I was under the impression you were interested. Is chess not riveting to you?”

“What can I say? As a chess master, I need something more mentally stimulating.”

Something glinted behind Gale’s eyes as you spoke, breathing slowly out his nose as he watched you. As he leaned forward his earring swung lightly, catching your attention. You hadn’t noticed the little metal piece before. Circular in shape but adorned with a small purple gemstone, shining brighter than the average jewel. It seemed far more ostentatious than jewelry you expected Gale to wear. Somehow, the gaudy earring never seemed to catch your attention over the man who bore it.

“Something more stimulating?” He repeated, thoughtfully. “What do you know about mages?”

The sudden change in topic startled you back into attention. Mages were certainly uncommon, only few known people being able to wield such a power. Some thought that mages were too dangerous to live amongst the Ton. Others thought mages were nothing more than an old wives tale until a high ranking noble had revealed their innate abilities, but you had been busy in your painting phase while it happened. You hardly remembered how it ended. You silently chided yourself for not paying more attention to the happenings of the Ton. Perhaps Euphemia would remember. You made a mental note to ask her eventually.

Between nonbelievers and 

“I know they exist,” you started, raking your brain for any helpful bits of information. “I know they are quite rare. I’ve never met one if that’s what you were asking.”

Gale inhaled shortly, shoulders rigid and tense. He fidgeted with the fabric of his shirt, gently rolling it between his fingers. “And if you met one, what would you think of them?”

“Did I know them prior to knowing they were a mage?” You asked, unsure of where he was headed.

He nodded.

With hesitation, you continued. “Then they would still be the same person, would they not? I don’t think it would change my impression of them.”

Gale exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, shoulders easing slightly as he relaxed back into his chair. “Yes, I agree,” he replied, letting his hand return to the tabletop and releasing the fabric he was toying with. “Are you busy tonight?”

Your mind spun in confusion at another quick change in topic. “I believe so? Why do you ask all this?”

He waved you off, earring twinkling as he abruptly stood from the table. The air felt lighter than before and Gale now wore a bright smile, eagerly putting the chair back in its place. “I’d like to see you back here tonight after dinner. I have something to show you that I think you’d like.”

Feeling your cheeks redden, you sputtered. Meeting you late at night? Has he always been so forward? “But we aren’t even courting yet.”

Gale paused in shock as he failed to stop his smile from growing, his own ears beginning to bloom with pink. “Courting?” He repeated, voice soft and honeyed, the world pleasantly rolling off his tongue.

The feelings of mortification rushed back to you and all of a sudden you felt transparent in front of him. “I have greatly misunderstood, haven’t I?”

Blinking, he seemed to startle himself back into reality, clearing his throat. “My apologies, I hadn’t intended to imply… Not that I wouldn’t- I mean, only if you wanted- I just-” Gale stuttered, nervously cutting himself off and refusing to meet your gaze.

“I’ll be there.”

Gale’s  eyes caught yours and he took a deep breath. “I promise I’ll make it worth your time.” He gave you one last look before withdrawing from the room, leaving you alone as the door swung closed.

taglist:

@vhaldren

#gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #alternate universe #bg3 #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #regency #tav bg3 #gale x tav #gale romance #regency au

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 7 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Crime...

Summary: Your Sergeant has given you an order. Kind of. And you're following it. Kind of. Its hard out here for a brat.

64.media.tumblr.com

Tags: No smut this chapter, just a brat bein' a brat.

Warnings: Rough handling towards end of chapter.

Notes: You lucky minxes, this one chapter became so long I had to make it into two chapters. Here's the first one. The second one will be posted within the next week. Enjoy ;) Thanks @corona-one for sharing your vaccine knowledge, and @dumfanting once more for your beta-ing!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

“…and last thing. What’s going on with your medic?”

“What do you mean?”

“There are some interesting rumors going around, starting to make their way higher in the ranks.”

“Oh really? What about?”

“Let’s just say it's about your medic’s… relationship with all of you.”

“Hmph. Yeah, we’ve heard about the ‘whore of 99’.”

“Oof, that’s the one. Normally I wouldn’t worry about it, but it's getting loud enough that the Generals might hear, and they’ll want to check in on the whole situation, for her safety. Now I know you boys, but you aren’t known around command for your gentile personalities. Wherever it’s coming from, reign it in a little bit. Your squad doesn’t need that kind of speculation - her least of all. Don’t need the whole GAR knowing her intimate details. Got it, trooper?”

_____________________________________________________________

You walk in and lean against the door frame as Cody disappears from the holoprojector. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Cody never calls ‘just to chat’. Another mission? An emergency? You watch Hunter with his chin in his hand and your heart goes to him.

“That bad, hm?” 

He turns towards you.

“No, nothing to really worry about.” He holds out his hand. You take it, using it to straddle him, to get in close and comfort him. You lean your arms on his shoulders, carding your fingers gently through his hair.

“Then what’s the matter, Sergeant Hunter?” you smirk down at him, watching him take you in.

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing between the joints of your armor. “Hm, just sounds like that rumor run is working too well. Cody was calling to ask about it, give us a heads up.”

You tilt your head forward, giving your lovingly incredulous look more emphasis. “Is that really a problem? That WAS the goal.”

He smirks, his crook-ed finger slightly lifting your chin. “If Cody is warning us about it, It’s…something to keep an eye on. Might be best to appear as a “regular squad’ today out among the regs.”

Your heart sinks a little bit, along with a twinge of irritation at his tone. You huff. “So we’re play-acting after all.”

He smirks up at you. 

“You’ll find a way to get through.”

Oh you will, will you? “This sounds like an order, Sergeant”

“Hah. I guess it is.” He nuzzles into your neck, taking in your scent.

OOOOoooo… so Hunter has quite a bit to learn about relationships. You could be an adult and talk about it. Buuuuut… where’s the fun in that?

A lesson then. So be it.

____________________________________________________________

Knowing what’s to come, you make sure to spend your landing time hungrily making out with Crosshair on his bunk, your fingers in his hair, his fingers desperately squeezing your hip- 

-all just in time for the hatch to open. 

You softly groan into his lips. “Crooooss… we have to go.”

His lips move to your neck, fingers pulling you closer to him. “Let them hear. Worked out last time.”

You sigh in regret. “We can’t, Hunter’s orders.”

He nips at your neck in frustration.

“Fine. Later, you’re mine.”

He stands, pulling you up and grabbing his helmet. You take a second to kiss him again, nuzzling him to look at you.

“Whatever happens, Cross, just remember. I’m ending up with you tonight.”

He looks you up and down with slight suspicion, but nods, turning to join the others in their descent.

Standing at attention and awaiting your party is a trooper in armor decorated in dark purple, the designs minimal, but well drawn. He removes his helmet to reveal a standard clone face, minus a scar through one eyebrow and a small soul patch. There’s a merry glint to his serious eyes. You like him already.

“Clone Force 99, welcome aboard the Captivator. I’m Captain Case. Commander Core has been held up in strategy, but I’ll be taking you to your own briefing room to wait for him-” He pauses as his eyes light on you, his head cocking slightly to the side. You smile at him, using your bashful smile.

Hunter glances to you and back. “Problem?”

The Captain blinks, looking back to Hunter. “Apologies, just didn’t know your squad held a nat- a, uh, non-clone.”

You step past Tech, daintily offering your hand. “Good to meet you, trooper. I have a name, but everyone calls me ‘your majesty’.”

He grins. “Who am I to break tradition?” He takes your hand, pressing his lips to the plastoid covering your fingers. “Does that mean you require an escort?”

“From a dashing trooper such as yourself? Yes, I believe it does.”

He offers his arm out to you with a slight bow, grin widening. “Then if you will, ma’am.”

You take it with a flirty smirk, doing your best impression of royalty, completely ignoring the feeling of eyes on your back.

He glances back at the squad, oblivious to any harm. “If you’ll follow me.”

You chat with the Captain as he leads you on, the usual about the usual: ship’s company and capabilities. When you make it to the briefing room, Case excuses himself to retrieve the Commander, bowing to you with a grin and a flourish. You chuckle; not all troopers go along with the gag, but it's fun when they do. 

Once he’s gone, you ignore all of the chairs - opting instead to sit on the briefing table, legs crossed, leaning back on your arms.

“Enjoy yourself?” Crosshair seethes. You can almost feel the jealousy radiating off of him, especially after getting him so excited before.

You wave your hand, dismissing his concerns. “SOMEone has to make up for your grumpy face.”

He relaxes a bit from your joke - but only a bit. 

Echo sits himself in the chair next to you, his eyes glancing up your legs as his hand settles on the exposed point above your knee. 

“Just remember we’re here for business, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you as the others take their seats. 

“Says the one checking me out,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance down at his codpiece. “Do you like what you see, trooper? Because I do.”

His eyes involuntarily trace down your body, thoughts clearly headed into erotic territory-

“Knock it off, both of you,” Hunter barks from the chair to the other side of you, clearly displeased. “We've got incoming.”

Echo removes his hand guiltily, but you stay right. Where. You. are.

The doors part and in walks Commander Core and his Captain. The Commander has a short but full mustache from one side of his lip to the other.He seems barrel chested for a clone, if that’s possible, and he has the same jovial spark as his captain - with the same seriousness just behind it. You like it.

“Well, Clone Force 99, glad to see you comfortable. Sorry for the wait, you know strategy meetings.” Hunter stands, helmet under his arm. “Ah! Sergeant Hunter, I believe, good to put the flesh to the face.” They clasp arms in greeting, each acknowledging the other.

“Likewise, Commander. This is my squad, Tech: Crosshair: Wrecker: Echo: and-”

Core grins as you’re indicated. “Ah yes, the Queen herself. It's an honor to have you aboard our humble vessel, your majesty.” He takes your hand and kisses it with a small bow. He murmurs under his breath, “Usually I’m the only Queen around, so I appreciate the company.”

You chuckle as he releases your hand and turns to the others.

“Heard good things about all of you, and you’re going to need everything you’ve got for this one. Take your seats and let's get to it." He and the Captain take their places at the other end of the table, activating the table. "You’re headed to Saila III…”

The briefing is well thought out and concise - you’re impressed. The mission was on a planet largely toxic to organic life- which is why the droid army found it a perfect place to set up a secret droid research and development factory. There were inoculations that could be taken, but wouldn’t do for a whole army in a full on assault. No, they needed a small team, in and out, destroy everything, steal what data was possible - if the team could make it out alive.

The Commander was right, this one would be a doozy. For anyone else.

Core turns off the table and stands up from his chair. “That’s all the info I have for you - check in with the Med bay about your inoculations; there’s a time table to worry about, so the sooner you can get those started, the sooner you can head out.”

Hunter nodded. “Then that’s our next stop.”

You smile at the Captain standing off to the side. “Will you be escorting us this time, Captain?”

He grins at you. “Sadly, no, there’s other business requiring my attention - but this mouse droid will take you where you need to go.” A droid moves forward from a corner and chirps, rolling towards the door.

“Your majesty,” the Commander pulls your attention back. “Selfish of me to ask, I know, but while you’re aboard would you do me the honor of joining me for a meal? I love my brothers, but sometimes I need more… feminine company.” He furtively glances at your squad and winks at you. HAH.  So he could see what was going on.

You try to keep your grin from being too knowing. “I would be delighted, sir.”

“Good, I look forward to it.” He turns to the now strangely tense squad. “Thanks again, boys. Dismissed.”

You all salute before heading out the doors, following behind the tiny droid humming along. 

Crosshair strides up next to you angrily. “What was that?” 

Wrecker comes up to your left. “Yeah, did he just ask you to dinner? Like a DATE?”

You smirk internally. “No, you two, he’s not interested in women. He just wants a break from being surrounded by men. I know the feeling.” 

“Oh.” Wrecker says, taking this in. “Wait, so is the Captain, uh, like that too? 

“No... He was just so nice before, I wouldn’t mind his company.” You try to keep your answer innocent enough.

You might have fluttered your lashes a little too much. He grins and scoops you up with one arm, making you squeal. “What are you up to, babe?”

You smile down at him, nuzzling his face. “Just following orders.”

Hunter’s voice breaks the moment. “Wrecker, put her down. Now.”

"AWWWWOOOOoooooOOO!" You scowl over at him as Wrecker groans, setting you back on the floor. “Fine.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at the medbay is simple enough - getting the attention of one of the clones is harder. It’s a bit chaotic, for a medbay, and you’re barely even acknowledged as the moments drag by. 

You sidle up to Hunter, handing him your helmet. “I’ve got this, Sarge,” you say in a deeper, serious voice, like you’re wading into the trenches. He eyes you suspiciously as you walk towards a trooper with his face in a microscope, putting a little sway in your hips. Yes, Hunter can watch you 'handle it'.

The table is up to your waist- so you lean over it. You prop yourself up by your elbows, your chin resting on the back of one hand. You can't help but grin, thinking of your boys staring at your ass while you flirt with someone else.

“Excuse me, trooper.” 

The man before you looks up quickly, pulled from his work. “Oh, uh, ma'am, uh, hello, I’m sorry I was in my only little world there.”

You smile good-naturedly. “I know the feeling. What are you inspecting?”

“Oh, uh, the reactions of the antibodies we have between a bunch of our vaccines. Since there are several we need for upcoming missions, we want to administer as many as possible without overloading the immune system. Well, a clone immune system. Non-clones are a different story, of course. Though, with the information we gain from clone genetics, perhaps there is a way to include something else in the inoculation to bolster the non-clone immune system while it processes multiple vaccines at once, which would- Oh, uh, I’m sor-”

“Which would save the average non-clone quite a bit of money, if not just another trip to a physician,” you smile, your heart warming towards him. “That’s such a wonderful way to use your access to knowledge. On behalf of nat-borns everywhere, I thank you.”

He beams with gratitude and chuckles. “Just doin’ my duty, ma’am.” You watch as he takes you all in, a bashfulness falling over him at your positioning. He clears his throat. “So, uh, what can I help you with?”

“My squad and I are looking to get our inoculations, and you looked like the man to see, so…”

“Oh, yes! The Saila III mission.” He pauses, glancing at you with confusion. “You’re with the 99?”

You sigh dramatically. “Yes. Someone has to keep those boys in line.” You let your eyes roam over his waiting slides. “Sometimes I wish I could just stay in a lab, find a good partner and focus on helping others. I’m a little envious of you,” 

You see him swallow out of the corner of your eye. Flirtation: success. “I know the feeling.”

You look back at him with a coy smile, letting the moment drag on just a bit until: “So, trooper, those inoculations?”

“Oh! Right.” He quickly turns to his computer. “We can start with the first set now, their side effects are relatively mild.” He reaches below the tabletop, pulling out three hand-length boxes and pushing them towards you. “In one standard rotation, depending on your bodies’ reactions, we should be able to do the next batch. Though with a nat-born… this may take a bit longer than anticipated…” he frowns in thought, calculating timelines and reviewing requirements on his screen. “Twice the time. We’ll need you all to stay aboard and under supervision for at least four days.”

“Four?” You blink in surprise, remembering the briefing. “Does the Commander know this?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have my S.O. send him a report.” He looks at you, in his element. “We’ll see what we can do to get you out promptly - I know what you’re doing is important. We don’t want to hold you back, we just want to make sure you aren’t handicapped out on the field.”

You genuinely smile at the slight mirror of yourself. “I know the feeling. What’s your name?”

He blinks in surprise, the bashful returning. “Theo.”

“Theo.” You take him in, standing up and tapping lightly on the table. “Thank you, Theo. We’ll settle in and wait for further orders. I’m sure I’ll see you again.” You take the three boxes in hand and, with a winsome smile in his direction, turn and head back to your squad-

-who are all staring at you in varying states of “wtf”. Confusion, interest, jealousy, irritation, and amusement.

You internally preen. Perfect.

“Our timeline has been extended.”

Hunter hands you back your helmet. “What do you mean?”

You set it, your pack, and the boxes down on a free examination table and start setting up one dose of the first vaccine. “Apparently to properly inoculate all of us, we, well, mostly I, need to be under observation for four days to keep an eye on our symptoms.” You click the first syringe into your injector gun. “Who’s first?”

Crosshair steps forward angrily, taking the chance to get close to you. “Is that ALL he said?” he hisses, clearly having trouble reigning in his contempt. You ignore him, moving his undershirt aside to administer the dose.

“He said one standard rotation per dose, at least for clone bodies, and that’s for the 3 types of vaccines the Commander said we’d need.” You load in the next vaccine for Crosshair, applying it to the other side of his neck.

“That timeline suggests you will need them every other rotation.” Tech takes a moment to note the time and enter something into his data pad. “Excellent. Then we will need the barracks they’ve assigned to us for longer than intended.”

“And something to EAT!” Wrecker says as you lock in the next vaccine. “C’mon little droid, take us to some FOOD.” 

“Not yet, Wrecker,” you smile, injecting Crosshair’s third shot and waving the gun at him. “First thing’s first. And you’re next.”

His face drops. “AAWWWoooooooOOOOH! I HATE shots!”

________________________________________________

The little mouse droid beeps an encouragement as you exit the med bay and head down the hall, all of you following in slight formation. 

Hunter hangs back, cornering you the best way he can (you know, while walking out in the open). 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You blink at him sweetly. “Following orders.”

Oh, he’s not pleased with that answer. “I said to act like a regular squad, not flirt with every trooper you see.”

You drop the act, letting yourself speak plainly. “No, you said ‘find a way to get through it'. So I am. I WANT to be flirting with all of you, but I’ll make do with a few regs for now.” You look forward again. “Just trying to be good for you, Sergeant.”

“Hooo…” he shakes his head, almost chuckling in his frustration. “If you keep this up…”

You look at him again. “You’ll what? Punish me for following orders? You know what I say about ‘natural consequences', Hunter.” You make sure to meet his eyes. “Next time, Sergeant, be more specific. Or even better, lets talk about it and come up with something together. You know, like partners.”

He slows to a stop, letting you continue on. A quick glance behind shows he’s pensive - he’s heard you. You nod to yourself, satisfied as you move to catch up with your boys in time to enter the mess. 

The hall was busy, but not packed. Clones littered the tables in crews of 2 or 3, with a whole squad taking up a table here and there. You catch some of them glancing curiously at your crew before ducking in to whispers, but the air was far from hostile. 

Hm. That was a nice change.

“Alright, I’m starving!” Wrecker led the charge on the food line, the rest of you following. 

The fare is good (for ship life), and you take your favorites, finishing just before Tech. Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair have already claimed a table in the back, but you’re headed somewhere else today. You start to head towards a table just to the right of them.

“Where are you going?” Tech’s tone is curious more than anything.

You turn to him, your head indicating your destination. “To sit with some new faces.”

“That is out of the ordinary. As is much of your behavior today,” he observes thoughtfully, eyes searching your face. “What is your objective? Are you feeling alright?”

“Why, Tech,” you smile, batting your eyelashes. “I’m just following orders.”

You wink and spin on your heel, heading towards trouble, Crosshair’s glare burning into your shoulder blades.

You sidle up to the table. “Do you mind if I join you, boys?”

The table falls quiet.

The clone closest to you, sporting a GAR tattoo on his neck, blinks, glancing at his squad mates and then back to you “Uh…us? Really?”

The one across from him, shaved bald with an intricate pattern tattooed across his scalp, glances over at your squad and back to you. “What about the, uh… what about your squad?” You can hear a bit of a smirk in there. “Get into a fight?”

You glance behind you, feigning confusion. “What? Oh no, I see them all the time, sometimes I just need a change of company, you know? Hear some new stories, get 'the gos' circling around.”

“Really? Well, we’ve got some ‘good gos’ about- OW!” GAR tattoo glares across the table at bald tattoo, rubbing his calf underneath the table.

Bald tattoo keeps his eyes on you. “Sure… that makes sense. Guess not all natborns are used to keeping the same company.” He winces a bit. “Oh, uh, excuse me, ma’am-”

You sit down with a chuckle, leaning on one hand. “Trooper, I’m not some shiny. I know what a natborn is.”

He chuckles, and the entire table seems to relax. “Fair enough.” He reaches out his hand. “The names Dorn.”

You take it. “A pleasure, Dorn.” 

And you’re in.

_________________________________________________________

Hunter sits down amidst a squad in chaos.

Crosshair’s hiss is barely understandable through his clenched teeth. “What does she mean she’s following orders?”

Tech digs his fork into his food, thoughtful rather than perturbed. “I am not entirely sure. She did not elaborate before heading in that direction.”

Wrecker is so confused he hasn’t touched his food. “So we don’t even know what orders she’s following?”

Echo looks over at Hunter’s face, knowing eyes putting it together. “You know what she’s talking about.”

Hunter sighs as he picks up his carb, breaking it in half before looking over to where you’re laughing with the Commander’s boys. It all made sense now. Alright, he can acknowledge he had some growing to do. He got your point. Didn’t mean he liked the way you taught it to him.

“I got a com from Cody, said to be careful the way we act around the regs. Command was getting wind of our arrangement, was afraid they’d come asking questions.” He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he takes a bite of his bread. “I told her to take it easy today, act like a normal squad. She wasn’t happy, I told her to find a way through it, she asked if that was an order."

Echo smirks. “And you said yes.”

“Fell right into her trap,” Hunter acknowledged, shaking his head. “Just told me her way of getting through is flirting with the regs instead of us. She’s trying to teach me a lesson, but she’s probably using the chance to tease all of you at the same time.”

“Ah, yes,” Tech returns to eating, “and in a way that we are unable to react without causing suspicion. I am impressed.”

“I’m not.” Wrecker grumbles. “Just want to carry her off and mark her up. See if those regs flirt with her when they see she’s taken.”

Hunter’s intellect perks up; That’s right - HE couldn’t punish you for following orders, but Crosshair and the others could for causing trouble. He smirks to himself. Well, he could find loopholes, too.

“Crosshair.”

The Sniper side eyes him. 

“You warned her what happens when she’s a tease?”

Crosshair nods slightly.

“And would you boys all agree that she’s being a tease?”

Wrecker frowns. “OH yeah.”

Tech adjusts his goggles. “I believe I would agree with that, yes.”

“Then it looks like we’re in for an interesting night. Crosshair, you’re the lead on this. Got any ideas?”

Crosshair’s eyes slink back to you, a satisfied smirk slowly settling in. “Oh, do I.”

_______________________________________________

The Core boys are a good bunch. They have you genuinely laughing- and maaaaybe you amp it up a little bit, throw in some general, harmless flirting every now and then? You get a few blushes, but neither side is forward enough to risk any misunderstandings. All in all, just fun.

You glance over to the squad to see the havoc you’ve wrought: oh, bliss. Crosshair is glaring absolute DAGGERS at you, Hunter is shaking his head, and Echo is slowly starting to get it. The next time… they’re heads are together in a huddle, with Hunter’s listening-to-strategy face peering at you. 

Uh oh.

“...by the C-quad always catches it, so he couldn’t-”

You turn back to Tor, the republic tattoo. “The C-quad?”

Dorn laughs. “That's what we call Commander Core and Captain Case. Four Cs, C quad. Much easier.”

You grin. “I get it, clever.”

You’re pulled back into the conversation with your tablemates for several more minutes until a slight shadow falls over you- Echo has made his way over. You glance at where he was sat to see that the rest of the batch has left already.

“Excuse me, brothers, I’ve come to claim our medic.” He looks at you with an amused ‘alright, play time’s over’ look on his face. “Joining us, your majesty?”

You give a dramatic sigh. “If I must. Pardon me boys, my subjects need me.” You stand and gather your dishes with a smile. “It’s been a pleasure.”

They all say goodbye kindly enough- but you don’t miss the curious looks they shoot between you and Echo.

You deposit your plates and head out of the mess hall.

“Good meal?” you smile at him.

He chuckles, shifting his helmet under his arm. “Any meal that isn’t ration bars is a win to me.”

You love his laugh. Then you remember your ‘uh oh’ moment. “What were you all talking about?”

“Our upcoming mission.” He looks over at you, amused. “How about you? Had some fun?”

You feel the blush, refusing to feel guilty. “Of course. Always nice to make new friends.” You glance at him curiously. “You were…ok with that?”

“Hm.” He glances at you with another amused smirk before looking forward again. “We’ll talk about it when we get to the barracks.”

Hm… interesting…?

You arrive at an unimpressive door and Echo enters in the keycode. The door whisks open to your quarters for the evening, revealing a fairly large room, all things considered - about half the size of the squad’s room on Kamino. There are 6 beds, two on each of the three walls, one on top, the other below, with standard gray GAR bedding. A large table takes up the center of the room, Hunter sitting at the head, arms crossed, and Wrecker sitting on his right, grinning from ear to ear. You look over them both, not sure what to expect.

As you look around for the others, Echo gestures at your back.

“Pack?” 

Well, he can’t be THAT angry with you, then. “Thanks Echo.” You take off your pack and hand it over to him. Glancing back, Wrecker’s grin has only widened.

Hmph. Your hands perch on your hips.

“Alright, Wrecker, what are you boys up to?”

You feel, rather than hear, the whisper by your ear.

“We should be asking you the same question, princess.”

Crosshair’s arm encircles the both of yours, pulling them behind your back, his free hand sliding up to your throat. “You have some serious groveling to do.”

You feel your arousal overtaken with surprise. “Cross- what are you-” 

He lightly squeezes your neck, just enough to get your attention. “You were told what being a brat gets you. Teased and tormented, remember?”

The fire lit inside you is too good to regret. “I-I was just following orders,” you look to Hunter, “right Sergeant?”

Hunter chuckles under his breath. “Hmph. Sure, you were following mine. But they don’t see it that way, do they?”

Oh that bastard. Well played. You gulp against the hand over your throat.

“See princess, Hunter might not be able to punish you,” Crosshair hisses in your ear. “But the rest of us can. And I’ll be showing them how to punish you properly.”

Wait, is this… ALL of them are going to do this? Together? At ONCE?? You can’t help it - you whimper.

“Getting the picture?” Crosshair smirks. “And in case you feel like continuing to be a tease, Hunter is going to sit right there and make sure you take your punishment - or you’re sleeping on the Marauder. Alone.”

Hunter leans forward, making sure you’re keeping eye contact with him.

“You understand, trooper?”

Your voice is a squeak against Crosshair's grip. “Y-yes, sir.”

He finally allows a smug smirk, leaning back to watch. “Remember, your word is meiloorun.”

Kriffing sith hells, here it goes.

____________________________________________________________

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