#i figured it was darkly humorous. he was my precious little thing you know. still is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxekook · 3 years

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when fire meets frost | kth

as part of the christmas with bangtan: secret santa collab

❅ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❅ genre: second chance romance, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

❅ summary: just like a bad holiday song, you gave taehyung your heart last christmas. only in this scenario, he broke it eight months later. now you’re both back at that same damn holiday party where you first met one year ago and you’re just praying for you and your heart to leave in one piece.

❅ word count: 5.8k

❅ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive comments, drinking, DIY mistletoe, light violence, random ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ references, drunk tae (TM), break-up flashbacks, weird humor, hella tension, hella groveling, making out, smut [oral (m to f)], the fluffiest of fluff (borderline cheese...actually...full-on cheese)

❅ banner by: the almighty and powerful maggie @kimtaehyunq - who also is the collab host!

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 8:00PM

Taehyung is staring at you. Again. Though you're facing slightly away from him, you know that if you give even the slightest glance over, your suspicions will all but be confirmed. The heated gaze you feel skimming over your body continues as you take a much needed sip of your mulled wine and pray that you get out of his line of vision soon with your dignity still intact.

Seokjin, your best friend and current partner in conversation, notices your predicament and scoffs, “You really should just put that boy out of his misery, (y/n). Scrooge himself would be down to have a foursome with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future if he was around all this pent-up sexual tension.”

Your red-painted lips curl in a surely unattractive manner that resembles something between a grimace and a grin. You’ve heard variations of this argument about a dozen times from just as many sources, but Seokjin’s might just be the most absurd.

“I don’t know how or why your brain went right to a ghost-fucking analogy, but I’ve long since given up trying to understand your thought processes.”

Seokjin’s chest puffs up at your words like they incite something he should feel proud of. You sigh and shake your head at him, feeling a mix of exasperation and endearment - a constant haze of comfort you feel around your best friend.

“I’m just saying,” Seokjin continues, completely undeterred by your attempts to divert the conversation onto him, “He’s hot. You’re hot. He’s still into you. You’re still into him. I don’t see the problem.”

“I never said–!” You cut yourself off. He’s baiting you. “You son of a nutcracker. You know full well what the problem is. I’ve told you more times than Yoongi has yelled at someone for getting too close to his precious sound system.

At your words, you both look over to your left where Yoongi is currently chewing out a sheepish Namjoon with a death-grip on his expensive ass speakers.

“And I’ve told you that your reasons are shaky at best, (y/n),” Seokjin sighs, placing his chin in his palm and leaning over to you. He continues with a conspiring whisper, “Just because you’re scared you’ll get hurt again doesn’t mean you should never put yourself back out there.”

“Oh yeah,” You scowl, “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never been dumped by the boy you love because he ‘wants to explore other options’. And then have to keep being around said-boy because you’re in the same friend group. And then fast forward a few months to when that same boy shows up drunk at your doorstep asking for you to take him back because you’re ‘the only one for him’. Spoiler alert: that’s fucking bullshit. And then–”

Seokjin slaps a palm over your mouth, effectively cutting you off mid-rant. “Babe, you have to stop rehashing this. Taehyung clearly is still in love with you. He looks at you like he wants to fucking eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, Tae hasn’t even hooked up with anyone since he asked for another chance.”

“That we know of,” You mumble darkly behind Seokjin’s palm - your words only a barely audible jumble of syllables.

“Are you accosting my date, Jin?” The voice of your co-worker and close friend Felix meets your ears as you shove Seokjin’s hand off of you. When you invited Felix to come to Jimin’s annual holiday party, you briefed him on the situation - like any good friend would. You needed him there as an extra buffer. While you love Seokjin, he definitely can get swept up into petty drama - namely baseless arguments with Jungkook.

As your closest work friend, Felix knows all about you and Taehyung, and therefore he agreed to be your “date” in exchange for your help in getting him a date with Alicia, the new accountant in your office. You’ve spent countless hours sitting next to each other as desk neighbors and coworkers. Felix is quiet, cute and respectful - not to mention his voice is to die for.

Felix’s hand settles on the middle of your back in completely friendly territory, but you can’t help but feel the eyes on you have ramped up in intensity. You wonder if Felix can feel his hand burning from the heat and almost think he does when Felix drops his hand a second later.

It’s one thing to make you uncomfortable. You’ve learned to stomach that. But it’s another thing to make your friends uncomfortable. And for that you turn and level a glare at that beautiful asshole, sitting at a nearby table with Jimin and still looking at you with those goddamn eyes.

Taehyung shamelessly stares back at you as Jimin prattles on about something in his ear before noticing Tae’s mind is elsewhere. Following his gaze to you, Jimin groans and shoves Taehyung’s shoulder before strutting away towards the kitchen. You watch as Jimin saunters by and roll your eyes when he winks at you when your eyes meet. That one has always been trouble.

When you turn back around, Taehyung is still staring at you. No, this time he’s staring at your body - namely, your ass. You ignore the burst of heat that runs through you and make a face somewhere between a scowl and a glare. He looks up at you without the least bit of remorse.

Your eyes narrow. Your ass isn’t even out! Your green ugly Christmas sweater adorned with real ornaments basically falls to your knees. But then again, Taehyung has always had a vivid imagination - and an even better memory. His mind is like a goddamn vault.

You tug your attention away from your ex and back to the current conversation. But your thoughts wander. You still feel that pull towards Taehyung - that same damn pull that’s been there since you first met him. And that scares the shit out of you.

Flashback: The First Meeting, Last Christmas

You’re perched on the arm of Namjoon’s black pleather sofa (“It doesn’t stain! Can you believe that?” “Namjoon, it’s ripped in seven places.”). Surveying the flurry of friends scattered throughout the cozy apartment, you only see a few people that you don’t know. But something feels different tonight, and you just can’t figure out why.

Did Namjoon rearrange his plants? Did Jimin part his hair differently? Did Hoseok change his outfit - again?

“A-yo, (y/n)!” Seokjin yells over to you from clear across the room. You’re always baffled at how clueless that boy is to social cues. “Come meet Taehyung!” Your friend continues to yell, practically pinwheeling his arms to beckon you over to his side of the room. You can vaguely make out an unknown figure standing with their back to you, facing Seokjin in conversation.

You sigh. Might as well get this over with before Seokjin decides to start pretending to lasso you over to his side of the room. Or worse - get his actual lasso that he has for some unknown reason. A natural performer that boy is. Getting to your feet, you cross the room. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and you rub a hand over your heart absentmindedly.

What is wrong with you? Meeting new people always brings nerves, but you never usually feel this out of sorts. You step into Seokjin’s outstretched arm and into the embrace of your best friend. And then you look up at the newcomer.

Hooded dark eyes. Curly black hair. Perfect pink lips. Jawline chiseled by the gods.

Your breath catches in your throat. Words buzz in the air around you but you can't distinguish one from the next. You’re pretty sure Seokjin is making some sort of joke because his sides start to shake and the beautiful stranger looks exasperatedly amused. Yet, his eyes never stray from yours.

His lips part like his breath is caught in his throat.

“Taehyung-ie, don’t be rude! Say hi!” Seokjin shoves Taehyung, jolting you both out of your little staring contest.

“Hi,” Taehyung repeats. Your stomach flips at the depth of his voice. “I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. You can call me Tae. Or V. Or just Taehyung.”

Your smile widens at his ramblings and the rising color of his cheeks. “Hi, Tae,” You can't help but grin up at the adorable, beautiful boy. He really looks angelic under the kitchen lights. His halo of curls frames his face in such a way that makes you want to curl your finger around one and tug.

Vaguely, you can tell that Seokjin is shooting rapid looks between you and Taehyung, looking like some sort of bobblehead in 100mph winds. Suddenly, a Grinch-like grin takes over his face. “Why don’t you crazy kids get some more wine? I need to talk to Yoongi...” Seokjin slips away.

In hindsight, you should have immediately been tipped off that Seokjin was up to no good. Seokjin seeking out Yoongi? Nothing good ever comes from that.

And you were right. Not twenty minutes later, you and Taehyung are both stuttering messes underneath a hastily tapped up branch of mistletoe - at least that’s what Seokjin’s calling it. You think it looks like a clump of grass with a grape thrown in there.

Just as you start to tell Taehyung that he doesn’t have to feel pressured by your lame friends, he cups your face in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Fucking magic.

There aren’t fireworks or sparks. There’s a whole blazing inferno between the two of you.

Your hands slide up his back, tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. Taehyung lets out a small gasp as your fingers tug on his locks, and you slowly slide your tongue across his lower lip.

“Uh, okay… Hello? Hey, guys!”

Finally, Yoongi slams together two pans from the kitchen, jolting you both away from each other in fright.

“Break that shit up,” Yoongi shoots a glare at a grinning Seokjin. “I did not sign up for that level of PDA, Jin.”

“I can’t predict love, Yoongi-ah. I can only bring lovers together,” Jin sighs, clasping his hands over his heart dramatically. Yoongi pinches Seokjin in the side, immediately instigating a fight.

Taehyung reclaims your attention, shyly intertwining his pinky with yours. In the midst of all the chaos around you, he just looks at you like you are the only thing that matters.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 9:02PM

“I don’t know how you survive when he looks at you like that. I’m practically melting just being in proximity of the two of you.”

Your friend Ciana’s comment pulls your attention away from your demon of an ex as he strides by, leveling you with a calculated smolder.

It’s a look that says he’s going to fuck you up in the best way - the way that used to leave you weak in the knees and covered in hickies. Taehyung’s fuck me eyes are your kryptonite. He knows it. You know it. The whole party knows it. Hence, it makes sense how he’s shamelessly using them any fucking chance he can just to mess with you.

It’s practically a fulltime job pretending it doesn't affect you. And it's a job you are failing at miserably.

You sigh and take a big sip of your drink. “Oh, I'm not surviving,” You confess, “This is just a hologram image of me. I’m practically clear across the country by now.”

Ciana laughs, “Girl, I don't blame you, but I have to say… He looks like he would follow you anywhere.”

You scoff. There was a time where you would wholeheartedly agree. Since your first meeting, Tae made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

After talking all night at Seokjin’s party, you exchanged numbers and within a few days Tae asked you out.

Your first date was to an art gallery. The two of you spent hours there, studying art and exchanging soft murmured interpretations. You would often catch Taehyung staring at you instead of at the paintings decorating the walls, and it made you feel all warm and fuzzy.

The dates continued until Taehyung managed to gather up the courage to ask you to be exclusive - his words, not yours. You hadn’t believed that he could ever have doubted your answer. But in hindsight, you probably should have doubted him.

Things were great for a while. No - they were better than great. They were the best eight months of your fucking life. Until they weren’t.

“Why did y’all break up again?” Ciana asks, pulling your attention to her once more.

You let a bitter laugh escape. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

Flashback: The Break-Up, August

“I want to see other people.”

The words strike you like a serrated blade. The plate you’re washing falls into the sink with a clatter. Your heart stills in your chest.

“What?” For a second you believe that you must have misheard him. Only he crushes that hope into dust within seconds.

“I said I want to see other people.” Taehyung repeats, a bit louder.

“You mean like taking a break?” You refuse to turn around and face him. You refuse to believe that your relationship is crumbling down. Your mind tries to grasp at straws. “Or trying ethical non-monogamy?”

“No, (y/n),” Taehyung sighs, “I mean that I want to break up.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” The tears begin to sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to make sense of the blindside that Taehyung just threw at you. “What did I do? How can I fix this?”

“You can’t, okay?” The exasperation in his voice is palpable. “I’m bored here. I feel tied down. We’re both so young... How can we know we’re right for each other when there’s so many other people out there?”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” You seethe, finally whirling to face him. Taehyung flinches when he sees your tearstained face but you persevere and continue, “I bore you? That’s sure not what it seemed like two days ago when you were fucking me against the wall of that club bathroom.”

“Things change,” Taehyung scowls, “I need to explore other options, (y/n), and I think you should, too.”

Your heart is breaking, a fissure splitting it right down the middle. “You want to explore other options,” You repeat, in a deadpan voice. “Do you already have someone in mind?”

The split second pause Taehyung takes is all you need to know the answer to that.

“Get out.”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t the only reason!” Taehyung scrambles to explain. “We haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Oh, you’re a ‘we’ already? Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, I hope you’re happy with them. I hope they don’t bore you or tie you down. I hope you’re right for each other. I hope youre fucking happy with yourself and your decision.”

“Can’t we still be friends?”

You don’t deem that question worthy enough of an answer and slam your front door in the face of the person who ten minutes ago had been the love of your life.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:21PM

The amount of love in the room is making your stomach turn. You watch as your coupled up friends exchange presents and kisses. You’re so happy for each and every one of them, don’t get you wrong. You just can’t help but feel increasingly alone with each passing minute.

Felix notices the dip in your mood and nudges you, “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” You snuggle deeper into his side. Thank god for Felix. “Thanks for coming with me to this shindig. It would have been hard to be alone this year.”

“No worries, babe. Besides, how else am I gonna get Alicia to go out with me?”

You laugh at Felix’s words. The boy was oblivious to the fact that Alicia had already approached you to ask if he was single. Sometimes you enjoy your diabolical mind. “Oh, she’ll definitely go out with you,” You reply, pinching his cheek, “Who could resist this face?”

“You did. Three years ago,” Felix whines, shoving your hand away from him playfully.

“Sadly you’re not my type, pretty boy,” You sigh. It truly was sad. Felix is the nicest human you know - besides Seokjin. The fact that you're not interested just reinforces the idea that you have terrible taste in men.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know who you could possibly be referring to,” You sniff, turning away.

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the guy that hasn’t stopped circling you like a fucking shark in water since we got here?”

“He has not,” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“A-ha! So you do know exactly who I’m referring to, you little liar!”

“Goddamnit,” You laugh. “I need another drink to put up with you. You want a refill?” You gesture towards his cup.

“Nah, I’m good,” Felix shakes his head. You nod and head over to the kitchen, thankfully seeing no sign of ‘Shark Boy’.

But you spoke too soon, because just as you’re reaching up for a new mug you feel him.

“Is that little boy out there your boyfriend? I didn’t think you were dating anyone,” A rough voice growls from entirely too close to your ear.

You turn your head and shoot your best side-eye at the asshole who’s heated stare is aimed straight down at you. You internally curse at the unfortunate fact that Kim Taehyung somehow still can manage to look gorgeous in a bright red sweater with a whole-ass Santa beard stitched to its collar. You have never hated him more given that you look like a hot mess of a Christmas tree that no one wants to climb.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Kim,” You retort, turning around again and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You can feel his warmth surrounding you as he grabs the mug for you instead, his body pushed up against yours.

“Move,” You order, your voice shaking slightly. But instead of listening, Tae grabs your hips and turns you around, caging you in between his arms.

“See, you’re wrong, (y/n),” His eyes dart from your own to your lips, “Everything that concerns you is my business. It has since the moment I met you, and it hasn’t stopped since.”

The incredulous snort escapes you before you can attempt to rein it in, “Taehyung, you broke up with me! I’m pretty sure that means you consider me old news and - above all - none of your fucking business.”

“And I told you I made a mistake!” Taehyung leans closer, his jaw ticking.

“You were drunk!” You stab a finger into his admittedly toned chest that you can feel even through that abominable Santa beard, “And it took you two fucking months to say that, only to never bring it up again. So excuse me if I find your argument lacking.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses softly, running a hand through his mess of curls, “I miss that smart mouth.”

“Yeah?” Your response flies out too fast for your brain to check your words, “Well I miss being enough for you.”

Taehyung looks stricken. “Baby…” He reaches for you but you duck past him and beeline straight for Jimin’s bathroom. Locking yourself inside, you slide to the floor and contemplate your chances of sneaking out the tiny bathroom window just like you did that night some months ago.

Flashback: A Streetcar Named WTF, October

A harsh banging sound jolts you awake. “What the fuck,” You mumble, fumbling around blindly trying to find your phone amidst the blankets and pillows surrounding you.

Finally, your hand locates the small metal device and you switch your screen on. Your eyes immediately shut at the brightness and you muster up the will to peek at the time.

3:12AM.

Who the hell dares to pound on your door at this hour? What is this - A Streetcar Named Desire? Well, slap your ass and call you Blanche because this asshole is about to feel your wrath.

Stomping over to your door, you swing it open and say, “There’s no Stella here, Stanley. Fuck off.”

While you don’t find a drunk Marlon Brando on your doorstep, you do find a drunk Taehyung.

“Who the fuck’s Stanley?” Tae glares, trying to cross his arms but failing somehow.

“Good lord, Taehyung,” You groan, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside your apartment, “You smell like a whole goddamn brewery. How did you even end up here?”

“Walked,” He says proudly while smiling down at your hand on his arm like an idiot. “Who’s Stamplee? I mean, Stangfree.”

You pinch your nose with your free hand. This boy… Ignoring his idiocy completely, you question, “You walked?” You push him down onto your couch and head into your kitchen to grab him some water.

“Yup! All by myself! Are you proud of me? Sandflea could never!”

You jump. Somehow Tae still managed to sneak up behind you while drunk out of his mind.

“Kim Taehyung, sit your drunk ass down.” You jab a finger in the direction of the couch he just vacated.

“But you’re so far away when I sit all the way over there, baby,” He pouts, giving you puppy dog eyes. “And I’m not drunk!”

You don’t dignify his words with a response. Handing the glass of water to the problem currently sprawled out on your couch, you sigh. What are you going to do with him? He can’t stay here… But he’s in no shape to walk back to wherever the fuck he came from.

“Tell me, Kim, why did you think that walking to my apartment of all places was a good idea? I could have moved!” Disdain drips from every syllable, “Is anything going on in that brain of yours? If so, it’s clearly not making any sense.”

“I beg to differ,” Taehyung has the audacity to grin up at you as he continues, “My brain makes perfect sense, baby. You plus me equals three.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he swings his hands out, showering you with the glass of water you just handed him.

“Maybe I’ll call you a math tutor along with your Uber,” You mumble as you fight the urge to laugh at the mess of a boy staring up at you from your couch. Grabbing a kitchen towel, you dab the water off of you as best you can. Glancing back down at Tae, you notice his attention has fallen to your chest, where the water he practically threw at you has plastered your tanktop to your skin.

“Hey, eyes up here,” You slap his arm with the damp towel, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“One more minute,” He says, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

His attention gives you butterflies for a split second before you lock that shit down. You aren’t a fool; you’re fully aware that Taehyung’s the farthest thing from available, but he’s still hot as hell with his muscular stature, his wicked brown eyes, and his full pink lips. And that deep voice… it has shamefully been the fuel of your fantasies for the past few weeks. But that is neither here nor there.

So while his undivided attention always did make you feel fucking incredible, now he’s just a drunk boy who’s acting like he’s never seen nipples before.

“I’m calling you an Uber, okay?” You finally say, grabbing your phone and pulling up the app.

“Can’t I stay here?” Taehyung pouts, “Or will Surley get mad?”

“His name is Stanley,” You automatically reply and then curse as Taehyung lurches to his feet.

“I knew it! Where is he? Where is my replacement? I challenge him to a duel!”

“A duel?” You can’t help but laugh, “On what grounds?”

“For your hand, of course!” Taehyung rapidly glances around your apartment before his eyes land on the broom tucked in the corner of your kitchen. “There’s my sword!”

Before he can take a step towards his ‘sword’, you grab his arm and push him back down onto your couch.

“Wow, you’re strong!” Tae stares up at you adoringly, “And so-o cute. Wanna date?”

“You’re drunk, Tae. Don’t say things like that.” God, he’s going to give you a complex. You had just started getting over him and now he does this? Why is life deadset on fucking you over?

“But I do wanna date you!” Taehyung insists, “Don’t you miss me? Miss us? I still love you. I never stopped.”

“Tae, please stop.”

“I made a mistake, baby, and I wanna fix it. Can you give me a chance? Please?” His brown eyes blink up at you slowly. His lids practically fight to stay open as his words slur together.

The boy is falling asleep. Sighing, you close the Uber app. Looks like you’re housing your ex for the evening.

“I wanna marry you,” He mumbles, “Bought the ring last week. If you can just love me again I’ll be the luckiest…” His words get more and more inaudible. Mumbles about Stanley and revenge and kisses and altars filter through as you place a blanket over his form.

“Goodnight, Tae.” You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair. Your heart stutters as he practically leans into your touch like a cat, smiling contentedly.

“We’ll see if you remember this in the morning,” You mutter, setting another glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table for him when he wakes up.

After making sure Taehyung’s on his side with a bucket for potential incidents, you head back to bed.

When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:23PM

“(y/n)... baby, please let me in.”

The underlying meaning of those six words is not lost on you. Could you let him in again? Taehyung once held your heart and then he basically smashed it on concrete and backed over it with his car - twice.

“Go away.” Your words sound weak even to your own ears.

“No, I need to talk to you… Please.” His voice breaks on the last word and you cave. Standing you unlock the door and back up. You could have a logical and reasonable discussion with Tae and get some closure, leaving all feelings out of it. Maybe...

“Two minutes,” You declare, “Nothing more.”

“But–”

You cut him off, “1:55…” You tap your foot and smile as Taehyung shoots you a look.

“Fine,” He rubs the back of his neck, peeking up at you under his lashes. “I got scared, okay?”

Your disbelief must show all over your face because he continues.

“Yeah, I was scared - fucking terrified of how much I feel for you. How in love with you I am. How can it be that easy to find your soulmate? It didn’t make any sense to me. And then Pia began to show an interest in me and I convinced myself it was a good idea to distance myself from you. To see other people. To try to make sense of my feelings.”

You hold up a hand. “So, you’re saying that you broke up with me because you were ‘too in love with me?’ What the fuck kind of selfish bullshit is that, Taehyung? You broke my fucking heart for someone you didn’t even like because you were scared I was your soulmate? Don’t you see how that just makes me feel like shit?”

Taehyung sinks to his knees. “(Y/n), baby, please. I am so sorry. I fucked up in the worst, most selfish way possible. It kills me that I broke your heart.”

“Ugh, get up, you drama king.” You pull him to his feet, continuing, “Why did you leave after that night? You said all those things when you were drunk and then just left.”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t remember what I said or how I even ended up at your place.” A blush takes over his face, “It’s so embarrassing you had to see me like that and I kind of just wanted to forget it happened. And I really hoped that you forgot it did, too. I didn’t expect you to just keep acting like you forgot my existence altogether.”

“What does that mean? I see you all the time, Tae! We’re in the same friend group for god’s sakes. We’re around each other all the time… Maybe even too much.” You mumble the last few words, but he catches them.

“Too much? You avoid me at all costs! You don’t smile at me anymore. You don’t even look at me most times! It kills me that all I get from you now is ice, when I know you have so much fire.”

His words confuse you. So he does want you back? Your friends weren’t exaggerating? A small burst of hope swells inside you, but the memory of the break-up outweighs it. “You don’t even know me though, Taehyung. Not anymore.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Taehyung leans closer to you, and you take a step back. Your back bumps up against the sink, your plastic ornaments adorning your sweater clinking awkwardly.

Tae brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes begging you to listen, “I do know you. I know that you still take your coffee black with caramel. I know that you started doing yoga but are too proud to admit you hate it. I know that you came to my art show last month but left before I could talk to you alone. I know that you–”

“Stop,” Your voice trembles, “Please, I can’t. Taehyung, you hurt me so fucking much. Don’t you get that? I just started feeling whole again. So if I let you back in and you hurt me, I might shatter completely.”

His hands cup your face gently, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I won’t ever hurt you again, baby. Please give me one more chance. That’s all I need. I want to keep you forever, (y/n)... I bought you a ring, did I tell you that when I was drunk? I think I did. I still have it. It’s yours - just like my heart.”

“God, you’re still so fucking cheesy,” You can’t hold back your smile even though more tears are falling down your cheeks.

And then his lips are on yours.

Taehyung kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe. Like you might break in the palm of his hand if he’s not careful enough. And maybe you will. But for right now, you melt into him.

He tastes like home.

Taehyung’s touch is tentative at first. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer. You feel like you might burst, feeling so many emotions. Love. Fear. Confusion. Hope. You hook your leg around him, wanting him pressed against you everywhere.

Taehyung groans and one of his hands drops down to grab your thigh, wrapping it more securely around his waist. “Jump, baby,” He mumbles into your lips, and you listen automatically.

He perches you on the edge of the sink, kisses you deeply, and then sinks back down to his knees.

“Tae–” You protest, as he runs his hands slowly up your calves.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby,” His dark eyes burn into yours, “Please don’t let me go another minute without you on my tongue.”

Fuck. Well, you can’t argue with that. When Tae sees you open your legs a bit more, he grins up at you and places a quick kiss on the inside of your knee.

His touch becomes more frantic as he moves up, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher.

When he sees the lacy red panties you have on, he snaps, lunging forward and hitching your thigh over his shoulder. Pushing your underwear to the side, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You gasp as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue.

Your hand winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, baby. God, I love you.”

Taehyung places a soft kiss on your inner thigh before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His tongue sinks into you, making your hips buck against his face. His hand shoots up to steady you as his tongue continues to flick in and out of you.

The sight of the boy you never stopped loving tongue deep in your pussy almost pushes you over the edge already. “Ta-ae,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby, please.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, brushing your walls.

The first few strokes of his fingers are slow. Too slow for your liking, “Taehyung, fuck me with your fingers.”

A rumble moves up his chest as he obeys, pushing another finger deep inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” He curses and begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy, “You feel even better than I remember, so goddamn wet.”

His mouth finally returns to your clit, his tongue flicking over it every so often. You’re hurtling towards your orgasm as his long fingers continue to pound into you and his mouth continues to lick at your pussy.

You feel the heat building up and you come with a gasp. Taehyung continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm until you slump back against the mirror above the sink.

Taehyung grins up at you, licking up everything you gave him. Finally, you gently push him off you. Still licking his fingers clean, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle up at you, “Well? Wanna get married?”

“Oh my god,” You burst out laughing, hopping off the sink onto shaky legs. “Why don’t you start by wooing me? We’ll go from there.”

“Challenge accepted.”

You blink.

Taehyung smiles. His wild dark curls are sticking up in random places - courtesy of your hands. His eyes are full of their usual sinful promises, but this time they also hold excitement and a tiny spark of hope. “Prepare to be wooed, wifey.”

“Fuck off,” You laugh, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror before smoothing down your sweater dress.

Nodding at your semi-acceptable reflection, you swing the door open to reveal just about every person from the party collectively gathered just outside.

“I knew it!” Seokjin shrieks. “Where’s my mistletoe?”

“My poor bathroom!” Jimin cries, “Defiled! Desecrated!”

“Why am I friends with you all?” Yoongi asks no one in particular.

“Well,” Tae whispers in your ear, “At least we won’t have to tell them, right?”

You smile despite the embarrassing situation and nod. This Christmas might just be your best yet.

a/n: sorry that this is late and severely unedited LOL plz be kind, this is my first fic back and YA GIRL IS RUSTY

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #kpopuniverse #ksmutclub #kwritersworld #networkbangtan #kim taehyung #kth #taehyung x reader #tae x reader #kth x reader #bts fanfic #bts

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Note

I totally LOVE your writings about Jesse! They are a literal masterpiece to me. But since Jesse seems to be a more rational and logical thinker, what would he think, say or how would he act around an S/O that is very sweet and lovely to him but is part of a cultistic group. Since I love the Works of H.P Lovecraft I wondered what Jesse would think about an S/O that probably believes in cruel or maddening deities like the Lovecraftian Gods. Plus points would be, when you include some sort of cultistic sacrifices so that the S/O would be a kind of killer to.

Stay healthy and out of trouble!

That’s very sweet of you to say. I try my best to picture Jesse as realistic as possible, and likewise! Have an amazing day, Anon!

Also, I always picture that Jesse is the representation of the deadliest sin of them all, Pride.

Chromeskull x Reader- Sin with me

He was all seven deadly sins, sweetheart.

Jesse was never once a very religious man, not only because his family didn't go to church or prayed, but simply because he wasn't attracted to begging a 'divine' entity for forgiveness, health, and such things. Even in his teenage years, he was more of a realist, so when he hit adulthood, he got more into logical and strategical thinking, a very good plus when you start to run your own company and have to be as manipulative as the devil.

It was quite funny that Jesse didn't believe in God, probably because he saw himself as a God, always at the top, always crushing the competition and anyone who dared to go against his authority.

Jesse still remembers his former mother-in-law and he grimaced at the image of that nosy woman, always getting her nose into his business, always coming unannounced and dictating how he should be as a husband, not to mention the fact that she was religious and had a habit when Jesse was home to make him and his wife go to the church on Sunday.

What a way to destroy a nice day of spending some quality time with his wife.

Of course, that was two or three years ago and he didn't have to stand that old hag and her voice that was giving Jesse a headache. Then he meets you, a woman who at first was very reserved, but in time showed her true colors and he could agree that your affection and warm nature grew on him.

He kind of prepared himself when the subject of beliefs and religion came up, and to say the last, he was intrigued.

It was a rainy day in Florida, Jacksonville, and Jesse had a week free from business, both the killing and the facade company. You two were in the living room, catching over some expensive alcohol and cigarettes, plus you needed a break from writing your book since you had no inspiration.

"So, you tell me the so-called piggy tried to beg for her life with offering you a blowjob?" you asked, sipping on your whiskey as Jesse smirked, shrugging and nodding.

'Are you jealous?' he signed slowly, interested in what you had to say.

"Not at all. When you're put face to face with death, all morals and principles fly out the window in favor of surviving." you explained, all calm like you were a philosopher.

At your words, Jesse leaned forward, getting more curious about what that dark and twisted mind of yours was hiding. Since your first date, he knew you had a dark sense of humor, but he never guessed it would match his own sick fantasies.

'You speak as you killed before.' Jesse joked, but your serious face told him otherwise.

"Never said I didn't." you said with a small smile, making the man before you drop his smirk and his mouth gaped in shock, trying to process what you just said.

"You're not the only one with an unorthodox hobby." you stated, pouring yourself another glass of alcohol and taking a cigarette from your pack, lightening it up.

'You never told me.'

"You never asked."

'Cheeky.' Jesse smirked, his brown eye twinkling with a sadistic sparkle.

"I think the question that you want to ask me is why, no? Why do I kill?" you said, setting your drink on the glass table in front of you.

'Definitely want to know.'

"People are ignorant and if I do hate something in this world, then there are the hypocrites." you said with venom in your voice.

'Aren't we all?"

"No. What I mean is the people who act so perfect, yet they are the most rotten on the inside. Never try to force something upon someone, yet there they are the people who believe in God and all that is pure and try to show their beliefs inside people's mind like mine that simply won't accept it." you began to explain to Jesse, who leaned his chin against his fist and perked his ears at your voice.

'So, you kill, because....' he urged you on.

"Because they are already dead on the inside. They are just walking corpses with a smile on their face and a crucifix around their necks." you finished, blowing some smoke.

'I still cannot picture you like that. You look so...fragile.' he signed with a cheeky smile.

"A regal cobra is fragile-looking too compared to a horse that is enormous, but the deadliest is what's inside." you remarked back, making Jesse give a silent laugh.

'You are just too precious, doll. Now, I'm no Christian either, but you sound like a Priestess, so forgive me if I'm gonna worship you tonight, my Goddess.' he signed as he stepped towards you, sitting on his knees in front of you, his hand rubbing your knee.

"Well, aren't you just a sweet-talker?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, your hand coming up to rub against his bald head, touches so gentle and full of love, it was so hard to believe that this tiny hands of your took lives.

'Only to you.' Jesse signed, his hand moving to take yours in his larger one, kissing your knuckles, pulling your lips into a prideful smirk.

"You know...I think of all deadliest sins, you represent Pride the best." you spoke, making Jesse smirk smugly against your skin.

'What makes you say that, doll?' he asked, brown eye looking at you with curiosity.

"You see yourself as a God; always puffing your chest and walking like you own the world, bragging how you are the smartest, the master in playing a chess game, figuratively speaking." you answered him, making him grin.

'And you? Little sinner, what deadly sin are you?' he signed, then his hands were moving up and down your thighs.

"Greed. Nothing is enough for me and I want to own everything, even you." you said, stroking his scarred cheek, making Jesse chuckle silently.

'Well then, my greedy little bitch. I'm going to show you what the true sin of lust feels like.' he signed, picking you up into his arms, walking with you towards the dining table, setting you down on it.

"Leaving wrath for the hypocrites and piggies?" you asked with an arched eyebrow, hands running up and down under his turtleneck, his black dress jacket long forgotten on the marble floors.

Jesse grinned darkly at you, smashing his lips onto yours in a breath-taking kiss, devouring you, then pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.

'Oh, if only you would have told me sooner. The things I would have done to you.' he signed with shaky hands, feeling his restrain start to crack.

"Oh? Please indulge me, my Devil." you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck.

'Why tell, when I can show?' he signed, then his hands disappearing under your dress, playing with the edges of your stockings.

"I correct myself. You are definitely Lust." you whispered into his ear, his chest vibrating into a sinful growl, his hands leaving your skin to sign.

'I do prefer to stick with Pride, doll.'

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alirhi · 3 years

Text

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 26/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the realreason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. Notes: Taking a little creative license with the mythology. If Marvel can fuck around with it, I can, too XD

Whatever Loki had been expecting subconsciously as he prepared himself for this meeting, the Queen Mother far exceeded it. Skadi was beautiful, ageless, and she exuded a strength that was palpable even from across the cavernous room. Fighting to hide his awe of her but unable to fully suppress his somewhat giddy smile, he bowed slightly. He was relieved when, without being prompted, Bucky bowed much lower than he had.

"So, Loki Odinson of Asgard." His smile instantly faded at that title, and the disdain in her voice.

"Laufeyson, actually," he snapped. "Did you think I dipped myself in blue paint before I arrived?"

Once again, a hand resting softly on his shoulder made him glance at Bucky, who was shaking his head in warning. "Loki..."

He huffed, but collected himself and forced a cordial smile as he returned his attention to the other end of the room. His brothers stood to either side of their mother, all three looking darkly amused at his expense. Squashing down his ego for the sake of diplomacy, Loki ignored it and pushed on. "Forgive me. I'm not here to quibble about names. For some time, I was raised to believe I was a son of Odin, but as you can see, I've found my way past Odin's lies and have returned home."

"Home?" Helblindi snorted. "The dwarf thinks he can find a home here?"

"Isn't that precious?"

Though she, too, looked like she wanted to laugh, Skadi held up a hand to silence her sons' chortling and teasing. "This was never your home, Odinson. Don't think that just because you've made yourself pariah on Asgard, you can run here to hide. We have no use for a runt with an inflated ego; we already have a court jester."

"Okay, fuck diplomacy," Bucky growled, looking like he wanted to rip them all apart with his bare hands. "Show these arrogant blue bitches what you can do."

Though normally his lover's support would have made him smile, Loki was rather distracted by an unexpected stab of pain as his heart splintered. Somewhere deep down, he'd hoped that Odin's story had been a lie; that he'd been stolen from loving parents who would welcome him back with open arms. Faced now with the overwhelming evidence that he truly had been abandoned, he wasn't sure what to do. He'd already forgotten the true reason he was there in the first place.

"Mother-"

Now even Skadi was laughing. "Is that what you think?! That I would ever produce such a puny reject?" She leaned on Býleistr's shoulder for a moment, both of them openly laughing at the furious, confused Trickster. "This thing thinks I'm its mother! The arrogance!"

"But you're the wife of Laufey-"

"Yes." All traces of humor gone in an instant, she straightened and glared at him. "And you killed him. So tell me, Odinson, why should I not have you executed now and have done with it?"

Well, if Skadi wasn't his mother, at least he didn't have to give a damn what she thought of him. Fuck diplomacy, indeed. Adjusting his coat, Loki stood a bit straighter and took a step forward. "Because you are not the one in power." He nodded to Helblindi. "He is. And since you couldn't keep Laufey's interest, I'm afraid you've lost mine."

"You insolent little-"

"Mother." With a smirk that reminded Loki a little of himself, Helblindi put a hand on Skadi's shoulder to stop her from rushing at their uninvited guest. "Even if he's fallen out of favor for the moment, we risk war if we kill Odin's favorite pet." He nodded to Bucky and grinned. "Why not kill the human, instead? An eye for an eye, a husband for a husband."

"I mean, technically-"

Shaking his head at his lover's adorable fixation on unimportant details, Loki chuckled. "You don't want to do that."

"Why?" Skadi challenged, already reaching for her sword. "It sounds reasonable to me."

"What am I, a prop?"

Somehow until that moment, it had never occurred to him that his shapeshifting power meant he could change his size, as well as his shape. Growing to just a bit taller than the wide-eyed and startled Queen, he grinned. "Because I fight better when it's for someone I love."

With a wave of Loki's hand, a gun appeared in Bucky's. To his credit, his pretty soldier didn't even seem fazed; he calmly checked the mechanisms and readied the weapon to be fired.

"And if I were you, I wouldn't want to fight him."

He had nothing to prove to these people. The realization hit him out of nowhere, and with a soft sigh, he returned to his original height. He had no need to make himself as large as they were; he was more powerful than all of them. With the flick of his wrist, he could have them on their knees.

While Skadi and Býleistr watched Loki's every move with anger and suspicion, Helblindi chuckled and stepped forward. "Why have you come here, little brother? Surely it's nothing so childishly sentimental as looking for a family."

Right. Thanos. Still burning with curiosity about his birth mother, Loki pushed it aside the best he could and approached the King. "A war is coming that threatens to reduce all the Nine Realms to ash. We need to be able to stand together-"

"You're asking for an alliance?" Skadi's mocking, incredulous tone was truly grating on his nerves. "You have no power to speak for Asgard! You have no power at all."

"Tell me, Your Highness," he demanded, "which of Laufey's sons was born first?"

"If you think we'd ever put some half-breed reject on the throne-"

"I've never wanted a throne!" Loki snapped, glaring at her. A spike of ice surged up from the floor; he narrowly stopped it from impaling her. With a growl, he shattered it and explained as calmly as he could, "I was simply making a point. And I do not speak for Asgard. Odin's got his head so far up his ass I doubt he can tell what time it is, much less lead a charge."

Helblindi looked dubious, but intrigued. "Then whom are we to ally ourselves with?"

He deflated slightly, though he did his best not to show it. "...The Avengers. They're a group on Midgard-"

"I've heard of them."

"You have?" Bucky sounded as incredulous as Loki felt; it was rather nice to not have to be the one to voice it.

With an almost-genuine smile, the King nodded to his brother. "Býleistr, bring Farbauti to us, while I talk with her son."

Skadi was fuming. "I will not have that Asgardian whore in my house!"

"It's not your house anymore, Mother," Helblindi calmly reminded her as he gestured for Loki and Bucky to join him at a table set up on the far side of the room. "I can handle things from here."

Eyes wide, Loki watched the Queen Mother storm out of the room. At first, all that registered in his mind was that there was a chance someone was actually listening to him for a change. Then the words 'her son' and 'Asgardian' filtered through the din of his racing thoughts.

By the time Býleistr returned with a nervous looking Aesir woman in tow, all Loki had managed to come up with to say was a somewhat choked, "What?"

___________________________________________________

For those who don't know: in the mythology, Loki is only half Jotun. his mother is never specified as Aesir, but she is referred to as "a goddess" so I figured Asgardian/Aesir is probably a safe bet.

___________________________________________________ Masterlist

#fanfiction #loki #bucky barnes #winter's frost #mcu #avengers #thor #captain america #winter soldier #m/m #loki/bucky #sebastian stan #tom hiddleston

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athaeda · 5 years

Text

A Candle in Another Light

((This is told from the perspective of Helna, a succubus who is part of what Athaeda refers to as her “Unusual Little Family”)) Helna watched as the figure of the gentleman, if you could still call him that after what she’d heard, departed into the shadows of Duskwood. Her hooves, heavy as they were, made little sound against the soft darkened grass. The shimmer of fel magic dissipated and she was no longer cloaked in invisibility, unconcerned with remaining hidden now that the male had left.

“Sweetling?.. Little Aeda-bell...?” She mustered her sweetest tone which lingered low and heady; she was still a succubus. She frowned-disgusted at a puddle of recent sick by the door and waved a hand at the sharply dressed imp as he went about trying to clean it. Dropping to a half kneel and careful not to dirty herself; she spoke to her fellow fiend, flat-questioning and stern. “She is still inside? And whole?”

Gelkin, the imp in question, looked extremely displeased with his task and was made all the more-so by the interruption which would only slow him down.

“Yes, yes. The miss is fine. Very sad. Yes, very sad. But fine.” He retorted quick and sharp in his small and shrill voice. He made to re-busy himself with the cleaning, nodding curtly in a dismissal of the larger demoness.

That answer was satisfying enough for Helna that she felt confident walking into the shack. Its cozy fabric-lined walls, the smell of roses and sage, the cramped-closeness of everything inside the tiny one-room home made it feel more as a nest than a house. The elven woman was there. She was only a girl in the eyes of the towering demoness and a foolish girl at that, nearly a thousand years she’d spent defending this family. She’d watched, waited, and fought on their behalf. She’d obeyed commands from those lesser than her and it ripped through her with a bitterness she couldn’t express from within her old-summoned binds. She wore too many bells, Helna considered, as she often did. It made her all the more difficult to guard when she sounded like a wind-chime wandering among the trees. Quickly, as was her way in most things, she disregarded her own distaste for the girl’s decisions and set about her set task: The sworn and bound defense of this little damned thing. The girl sat in a pile of pillows, strewn across the floor, that had been tucked neatly into her basket-bed when Helna had left. What a weak and wretched thing she appeared to be; she’d wrapped herself in her blanket and lay curled on her side clinging tightly to a pillow as if the object had some comfort to offer her. Helna could only sigh, rolling her eyes with full knowledge that the girl would not look up and witness such scorn. “Athaeda-bell…” Helna spoke to the meek and whimpering creature who was her charge. Her voice was as kind as she could make it, in consequence, one who was listening might mistake it for a lover’s address. “You’ve made a mess, sweetling. Tell me, what happened?” It wasn’t a question that needed asking but Athaeda didn’t know that and Helna had been commanded to keep certain secrets. “Did the male upset you? Shall I go hunting for him?” She quite liked that thought as she spoke it. It had, after all, been so very long since that other poor boy had experienced her remorseless touch. She licked her lips at the thought and was unable to withhold her darkly-low chuckle as the elf gave her a look of concerned displeasure.

“Don’t, Helna. Please… Not now.” Athaeda answered rather than addressing the query, tucking herself further into her own arms.

The succubus refrained from rolling her eyes but the wave of lusting-fire that rippled through her core forced itself out in a huffed breath. “Athaeda… I’ve told you. I’ve told you every time you’ve brought a male home that they cannot be trusted. I’ve told you and your mother tried to tell you. Sweetling; foolish girl… When will you listen?” Her kind words remained but there was a razored warning-edge in them now.

“What did you tell him? Something to kill his desire for you, certainly?” Helna had precious few chances to exercise her spite and did so with little reservation. “Did you inform him that you’ve been tainted? That you are no sweet maid but a ruined thing? Is that what repulsed him so? Made himself sick at the thought of you? I must say I’m impressed. I did not think you so skilled in the art revulsion, my little Aeda-bell!” She let the venom roll gleefully from her tongue, growing in enthusiasm as she prodded at the little elf in her suffering.

Athaeda turned her gaze toward the succubus but kept her lying position in the space that had so recently been occupied by two rather than one.

“Helna, must you always?..” The elf’s void-touched eyes looked little more than weary though tears clung, unshed, to her water-lines. “It wasn’t me that made him sick… and it’s cruel of you to say so.”

Helna raised a naturally sculpted eyebrow at Athaeda and her red-painted pout twisted itself into a knowing-vicious smirk. Her tone shifted as well, lifting from it’s lover’s tenderness to one of mockery. “Well, I can hope, can’t I? That at least one of them will have some sense before I have to remove them? You surely won’t. Pleading-lonesome thing that you are, little sweetling. Do you think he saw it? The weakness in you? The reason I had to whisk you away, lest the lynx catch you and do all the worse for your attack on him?” There was blood in the water now, Helna knew. She’d struck a nerve and the elf would be in ruin for the rest of the night if she left it there.

It saddened her that she couldn’t do exactly that, bound to her charge as she was, she took a breath and softened. Old magic kept her from being anything more than simply mean for meanness sake but if she was honest she did not despise the girl so. Rather, she found her slight nature and tender bearing bothersome to her own task and wished to see it dispelled. It was her thinking the best way to go about that was to break her of it, it would have to work eventually.

Helna lowered herself down onto the dirt-packed floor and sat across from the teary eyed elf. Upward she brought her arms, gesturing for the girl to draw near. “You know I only say these things for fear of you. You are my responsibility, Aeda-bell. So, I ask again, must I hunt him? I could bring you whatever of him you wished to keep. Perhaps one of his eyes? You seemed very fond of them. Or.. Something else?” She tried very hard to refrain from laughing, it was a dark bit of humor and she enjoyed it thoroughly at Athaeda’s expense.

“That isn’t funny…” Athaeda shook her head and while she did sit up and begin piling pillows back into their rightful place, she did not go to the monstrous feminine creature who was family to her. She kept the old blanket over her shoulders and stared at the succubus.

Helna felt slightly proud of her for that. There had been a time when the woman would’ve come to her. Would have laid against her as surely as she laid against her own mother. She made no motion to comfort her then, she was growing. It was slow, painfully so for the demoness, but it was happening. Perhaps this one would hurt her in the right ways. The ways the first had not. It was an interesting musing in the mind of the succubus. Perhaps this pair would be more entertaining to watch. Still, if pressed, she would do her duty. She always had. They all had.

“Will you rest tonight, sweetling?” She spoke calmly. “Or shall I have Gelkin light the incense and begin brewing your restful blend?”

Athaeda shook her head and her response was only a whisper. “I do not know that I will sleep. I do not know that I would welcome the dreams. No, I’ll be on my own tonight. You do as you will.”

“Very well. Goodnight, Athaeda. If sleep finds you, may it be a better lover than your newly scorned friend.” She rose up onto her hooves and left the shack without hesitating for anything more.

#Hartfallen #Helna's View #Cursed things #Kept Secrets #Demons with names all their own #Won't you walk with me?

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youcanbreatheyoucanblink-blog · 7 years

Text

Satisfied

You and Negan have begun connecting on a whole different level and a steamy truck ride after a run satisfies the desires you both have been building.

Characters: Negan x Female/Reader

Word Count: 2,601

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Inspiration hit me like a damn train with this one. I sort of just slammed it out because I knew I’d lose it if I didn’t get it down right away so it’s not much more than straight smut. I didn’t use a beta for this so I’m super sorry for any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :) I mixed up a lot of my tag list so I just combined it all into one forever list, so please let me know if you would like off or like to be added! :) Oh! And please let me know what you thought of it, I really love feedback!

GIF Credit :)

“A good run is like a good woman--satisfying as fuck.”

Negan followed his words up with a metallic slap on the side of one of two supply trucks. The four men surrounding you joined in his hearty laughter. You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

Being one of the few women trusted to partake in all types of runs was something you were insanely proud of. You had busted your ass to get where you were, and hoped to someday climb even higher in the ranks, so it wasn’t a huge deal to put up with the testosterone constantly surrounding you in the meantime. Your strength, skill, and cunning character had gotten you your spot among the main run groups and your sharp tongue and dark sense of humor had solidified your place as an equal amongst the men in each group--especially your leader.

You and Negan went at each other relentlessly; each sarcastic spit at you was met with an equally fiery one of your own. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind around him like so many were, and nearly every aspect of your nature complimented his--from your mind to your physicality. The two of you had been on numerous runs together and could back each other up no matter the intensity of the situation. You were strong and nimble and jumped at the opportunity to take on any amount of biters--or humans for that matter--with your back was pressed to his and a weapon clutched in your palms--though you still had never been given the chance to swing his precious Lucille over your shoulder; that was something solely saved for Negan.

However, lately, the words you hit back-and-forth together had begun to change, as if a fire had been sparked within you both and the smoke coming up from your cores had filled your conversations with hot longing and sparking eroticism. Your usual jabs became desirous as you would consciously drop your voice and coo at him as he walked by, stopping him in his tracks so he could respond with an equally husky comment. His dirty digs became dirtier as he would whisper it in your ear and, often, he wouldn’t even say anything anymore, relying on his fingers on your arm or your waist to convey the sultry sarcasm he wanted you to feel.

Out on runs, you both kept things to a bearable temperature and made sure to include others in on wisecracks, in unconscious attempts to derail any rumors or uncomfortable situations. You would converse and joke with the others in the group, of course, but it wasn’t the same. As you helped load the last of the supplies into one of the trucks, you couldn’t wait to get back to the Sanctuary and give your leader the delicious, down-low dialogue he had missed over the past day.

You reached up and pulled the rear door of the truck closed with a loud, metal-on-metal scrape. Everyone was standing between the two trucks and you hopped down to the ground and strode over, wiping your dirty palms on your jeans.

Negan was assigning people to trucks as you joined the group. He sent two of the men to sit inside the back of the truck you had just closed up to make sure nothing broke, and the other two men were sent to drive and sit shotgun in the same truck. That left you without an assignment.

Negan looked at you, his lips pulling up one side of his devilish grin.

“Now, you, sweetheart,” he said, pointing at you with Lucille, his infamous bat, her barbed wire caked with biter blood. Cocking an eyebrow, you returned your gaze from Lucille to him. The other truck started up and peeled away, kicking up dirt and gravel.

He closed the space between you both slowly; an ache pulled deeper in your stomach with each small step he took.

“Are coming with me.” He spoke the words in your ear, putting emphasis exactly where he knew you would notice the most. You smiled, close-lipped. His scruff tickled your cheek and you closed your eyes at the tingle it left behind as he leaned back.

“Fine,” you said, opening your eyes. “I call shotgun.”

Negan snorted. “Well I wouldn’t make you sit in the fuckin’ back. Hold this.” He stuck his arm out, Lucille hanging from his fingers.

You raised your eyebrows and put an hand to your chest. “My liege, I’m honored,” you said, and smiled as you gently took the bat from him.

“Come on, smart ass,” he said, chuckling.

As you made your way to the passenger side of the truck, your heart hammered. Not only were you getting an extended amount of time alone with Negan, you were holding his most prized possession in your hands. Lucille was his goddamn pride and joy--everyone knew that. For him to trust you to handle her moved you--and made you terribly turned on.

You opened the truck door and swung yourself in, careful to set Lucille in between your knees as you sat, keeping her barbed-wired end propped on the floor between your feet. Negan hopped up and in as you were pulling the seatbelt across your torso.

As he started the truck up and pulled out onto the main road, you let your eyes slide over to him. His right hand was draped over the steering wheel, clad in a single leather glove. His wrist peeked out from the sleeves of his black leather jacket and you could see the way his tendons stretched and relaxed as he steered. His left hand was lightly rubbing his lips and that wrist was taped so you couldn’t see his flesh. You then noticed a few strands of hair hung in eyes that were hooded with exhaustion. It was an interesting change of scenery since he normally kept his hair slicked back. You decided that you liked it messy; it was exciting. As you were imagining running your hands from the scruff of his beard to the thick hair on his scalp, he glanced over at you and grinned.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said, from behind his fingers. His voice was wonderfully deep and throaty.

You smiled and said, “Oh, if I could get a picture of you it sure as hell wouldn’t be in this truck, or in any clothes for that matter.”

His grin broadened and you softly smiled back. Keeping eye contact, you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth enough to be noticeable. And, boy, did he notice. You bit your lip harder as he stared at your mouth. You then released it and traced over the indent your teeth made with the tip of your tongue.

The truck swerved and he snapped back forward to the road.

“Fuck! Fucking shit!” he spit as he pulled the truck back into a straight line. You chuckled darkly.

“You’re going to fucking kill us, pulling that shit,” Negan said, half-kidding. He ran his ungloved hand down his face.

You looked at him, eyebrows pulled together in mock concern. “Oh, sir, don’t blame me for that. Look who’s driving,” you said.

“Do that again,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Call me sir.”

You half-grinned and leaned forward, over the center console.

“I’m so very sorry I distracted you. What can I do to make it up to you, sir?” you purred.

Negan let out a sound that was half-moan, half-growl and suddenly slammed on the breaks. The truck squealed to a stop in the middle of the road. You shot him a quizzical glance.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled, ripping his seatbelt off and flinging his door open. As he slammed it behind him, you undid your own seatbelt and slowly hopped out of the cab, Lucille still in your hands. You saw his shadow at the back of the truck and went to him.

Truthfully, you were a bit nervous. He hadn’t ever been that blunt with you before and you were afraid you had somehow upset him. He was standing at the rear door of the truck and, once he saw you, he lifted the latch and the door sprung up and open.

“Hand her here,” he said, holding out his gloved hand, motioning for Lucile.

You looked at him in a moment of reflexive panic.

Negan sighed. “Baby, I’m not going to bash your brains in. I’m actually focused on a completely different end of you,” he said, motioning again with his hand.

You blinked, first in relief, then in surprise at what he was saying and automatically handed the bat to him. He motioned with her for you to get in the back of the truck.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you obliged and climbed into the back. This truck wasn’t nearly as full as the other one was: there were a few canisters of oil and a couple stacked cases of water.

You turned around as Negan climbed up behind you. He reached up and lowered the rear door to about a foot above the floor so just enough light to illuminate his figure came through. You clenched and unclenched your fists, unsure of what he was doing while simultaneously having a pretty good idea of what he wanted.

“I have spent weeks relishing in the words that your pretty little mouth could come up with,” he said, gently swinging Lucille back and forth. “That quickly led to imagining your pretty little mouth doing other things, too.” He chuckled.

The silence that hung between you after his laugh evaporated was thick with anticipation. You were barely breathing.

“I’m sure as shit sure that you’ve been thinking the same things I have been, darlin’, and I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of imagining.”

Negan was slowly making his way toward you, his metallic footsteps echoing in the confined space of the truck’s storage cab.

“We’ve been thinking the same things?” you breathlessly ask. “So you’ve also been imagining yourself on your knees as my very own sex slave?”

His deep chuckle wracked through every bone in your body. “I don’t know about sex slave. I prefer the term ‘fellow fuck fanatic.’”

You barely had time to respond with a laugh of your own before Negan was on you, his mouth finding yours in the semi-darkness. His kiss was desperate with a hunger that had been building for weeks. You responded with equal insistence that you demonstrated with the intensity of your grasp on his jacket.

Negan backed you up to the far side of the storage cab, knocking you into the metal wall hard enough to leave a dent. You moaned into his mouth and began to grind your pelvis against his. He gasped and smacked his hand against the wall next to your head, leaving the sound ringing in your ears. His hips bucked into you and you couldn’t stop the moan that came from your mouth.

Something animalistic sparked within you both. With a growl, Negan reach up with Lucille, caught the collar of your shirt with a protruding spike of her barbed wire, and yanked down. You broke out in gooseflesh as the cool air hit your exposed flesh; Lucille had torn your shirt open from collar to hem in a jagged slice. She had even gone straight through the front of your bra, causing it to fall open, exposing your sensitive nipples to the air. Negan dropped Lucille with a clatter and ripped the ragged fabric from your shoulders.

As he dropped the remnants of your former shirt and bra to the floor with Lucille, you desperately pulled his jacket from his shoulders and took the soft flesh just above his collarbone between your teeth. He hissed as you bit down, so you followed it with a kiss.

Negan’s hands slid down from your waist to your hips, leaving your jeans to pool around your ankles and it wasn’t until you felt the sting of cold metal against your ass as Negan slammed you against the wall again that you realized he had taken your panties down, too.

With one hand, Negan pulled his shirt over his head. He roughly nuzzled his face in your neck, trailing kisses and bites down, across your collarbone, and to your breasts. Through the growing haze in your brain, you heard him undoing his belt as he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

You tried to say his name but failed as a mouthy moan erupted from your chest instead. His tongue swirled around your nipple and he gently nipped it as he pulled back. You kicked your jeans from your feet and Negan slipped his hands behind your knees, lifting you with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, happily meeting his bare flesh. You could feel the warmth of his hard cock against the bottom of your ass so you slowly arched your back, pushing his entire length toward your front, loving the tingle it left behind as it deliciously trailed along your dripping cunt.

“Fucking Christ, Y/N,” he gasped, and, once more, slammed you into the wall with a throaty moan.

The motion drove your pelvis against his and the tip of his cock slid partially inside you. You cried out, throwing your head back. Negan pushed you harder against the wall and reached up with his still-gloved hand to grasp your chin and pull your face down to his.

“I want to see the look in your eyes as I fuck you, babydoll,” he said. His voice shook slightly but his dominance had never been more prominent.

You nodded, eyebrows pulled together. “Please,” you whimpered.

With a hard thrust of his hips, Negan filled you. You both gasped and, for a moment, stayed completely still. The feeling of his throbbing length filling every inch of you was intoxicating. He began to move, never breaking eye contact and keeping a grasp on your hips. Almost immediately, he hit your sweet spot and you moaned, scratching your nails up his back.

“Right there,” you breathed against his mouth. “You’ve. Got. Me. Right. There.” With each word you spoke, you bucked your hips.

As you fucked each other against the wall, you could feel the pressure building in your core and you tightened your legs around Negan’s waist. The honey-like pleasure started in your thighs and quickly overtook your cunt. You screamed out as the release spread throughout your body and left you quivering in Negan’s arms. With a final thrust, he found his own release and moaned loudly into the crook of your neck.

Nothing but a sweaty, panting mess, you both slid down to the floor. Negan hand his hands cupping your waist and your head was resting on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you lifted your head and brushed the strands of hair sticking to your damp forehead away.

Through the dim light of the storage cab, you could barely make out Negan’s face. You hadn’t ever seen such a look of relaxation on him before. Any tension that had built up on his shoulders was gone, along with any sort of anger or annoyance that always showed so plainly on his face; the only spark of emotion you could see was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes. He smiled a lazy grin and you couldn’t help but break out in your own toothy smile.

“Like I said earlier,” he said, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“A good run is like a good woman--satisfying as fuck."

Tag list: @audreychaz @fiftypercentmoreintoyou @neganisking @negans-network @mwesterfeld1985@theonethatgotaway213 @starbabysparkle @warriorqueen1991

#negan #negan twd #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #the walking dead #negan smut #negan x reader #negan x female #negans thirst squad #negans-network #satisfied

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