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atonalginger · 5 months

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Thinking Back and Looking Forward

Wordcount: 2,874 Sam Coe x oc (a starfarer but not a Dusty) Warnings: drug use mention (from Sam's past).

Sam sighed as he exited the GalBank. Of course Jacob saw this coming; that old bastard wouldn’t let Sam get anywhere without a fight. It meant grabbing Cora, which made Sam madder. He didn’t want to use his girl as bait but how else would be be able to keep Jacob distracted enough to search the house. At least it would be easier with Cora, unlike the shenanigans he used to get into with Jamie and Julien.

He slowly walked to the gazebo in Coe Plaza, giving the old statue a glare from under his brim. It’s where he told Cora to meet him when they were both finished. The gazebo was empty; unusual but understandable given the heist. Give it an hour and people would be back. He sat on his favorite bench, leaving room for near the corner for a person who no longer joined him. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back into the railing, he missed her dearly.

It was a stupid fight. Over trivial stuff upon reflection. But to twenty year old Sam, still riding an Aurora high from his last trip to Neon and half drunk, it was important. So much yelling. And the escalation when she demanded he leave until he sobered up. Twenty year old Sam was a damn fool. That was his heart and he threw it away, shouting needless insults to get the upper hand on a pointless mess he created.

Thoughts drifted to good times. The pair sitting on the bench, his arm around her hugging her close while Julien sat across from them, usually telling them about something he saw on his last patrol. The twins had moved the Akila City at eighteen to get away from their family homestead and their controlling parents. The trio were thick as thieves with their common bond of shit parents. Julien joined the Freestar Militia to build up credits and protect the FC systems. He was a top notch combat medic considered a prize by whichever captain got the Fox on their ship. Jamie landed a job working in the Rock up at the bar helping serve drinks and clean.

She never cared that he was a Coe, which he liked. More like she was wary of him in the beginning for being a Coe or so Fox had told him once. Everyone built the Solomon Coe up to be some mythic legend and she was worried he’d be some self important ass. But he wasn’t, he was just a guy suffocating under the weight of his family name. His mind continued to wander to the quiet moments they shared. When they’d sneak off to his dinky ship and fly into orbit for a few hours of privacy. The way her curves fit perfectly in his arms. She was such a welcome distraction from his boring job hauling cargo. And Jacob hated her. Damn that old man, he even ruined daydreaming.

“Dad! Dad!” Cora was barreling toward him with an arm full of new books and a smile to light up the plaza. He came back to reality and looked over as she skid to a stop on the uneven cobblestone, “I need to get on the ship, it’s important! I met the Professor Melody from that book series Barrett got me started on a few years back. You know the one that combined various survey research with old earth historical data?”

“I think I know the series,” Sam lied. She had so many book strewn across the ship he was sure one day one would knock him out during a jump, “Why does this mean you need back on the ship?”

“I told her I’d read her series, which she was surprised because its college level reading, and that I was a big fan of her work and she offered to sign any copies I had with me but all my books are on the ship! I can drop off my new books and grab the best two from her series and run back here. She agreed to meet here at the gazebo!”

He let out a quiet chuckle and slipped her the landing bay keycard, “lock the hatch behind you both in and out, understand?”

“Yes dad, safety first.”

“I’m serious,” he gently held her hand with the keycard between them, “Akila City is safer than more Freestar ports but it’s still rough.”

“I know.”

He let go and smiled at her, “when you get back we can talk about what’s next on the days agenda.”

“Are we going to see Gramps?” Cora’s eyes got big and a new smile bloomed.

“Looks like it.” He tried not to look disappointed. Part of him did love that she and his Dad got along but he didn’t trust the bastard to not manipulate her.

Cora bounced and then took off for the spaceport. He turned and watched her, the City guard hollering at her to be careful and watch where she went. Her father’s daughter indeed.

Sam pulled his notes slate out of his holster pocket and scrolled through the list of books and authors Cora talked about the most. Didn’t take long to find this Professor Melody. Notes included:

-FC native. Born in Akila City, raised deep in Ashta country on a livestock homestead. Gained a love for Earth history due to a gift of ancient books from her aunt. -Holds degrees from FC and UC universities. Gained UC citizenship through her work on her first published work on ancient animal husbandry practices and how to integrate them into modern practices. -a Ph.D in anthropology with a focus on ancient Earth histories. -Cora really likes this book on ancient music. I think she’s told me three times now about how people used to play wooden instruments that worked because they took dried cane and painstaking shaped it into something called a reed and this all sounds like a lot of work for something a computer could do. Suppose they didn’t have computers back then. -Cora wants to go to New Homestead because of something she read in that new book. Thanks Doc Melody, someday soon we’ll go freeze our cheeks off

He sighed at the last note. Forgotten in the sea of things to do and errand to run. He’d have to make time, see if she still wanted to go. He felt a presence near the archway of the gazebo. A familiar presence. He stowed the slate and slowly looked up to see Jamie standing surprised in the archway. Her hair was clipped short and her makeup was subdued but it was her. He’d never forget that face. He stood and took a step before he froze. Why would he have any right to approach her after everything he did and said.

“Sam,” she said softly, almost a question. She blinked away tears and a warm smile formed.

“Jamie,” he choked up for a moment, “I—I’m so sorry. For everything. You deserv—“

“I’m surprised you remembered,” she took a few steps forward, “I remember you being pretty out of it that night.”

“That's…an understatement I think. Also took a few years to piece together a clear memory.”

“You’re doing better?” She asked. She was standing toe to toe with him now, looking up with wet hazel eyes.

“Much better. Had a few more lows to hit before reaching bottom but I’ve been able to clean up my act. Even ran with the Rangers for a time before finally getting to do what I wanted.”

“You’re exploring?” She sounded so happy and it made a tear break from his eyes.

“Yup. Me and my little girl, Cora, explore the Starfield for Constellation.”

Her jaw dropped a moment and then a giggle, “Cora? The bright eyed girl with the bouncy brown hair?”

“That’s her,” he nodded, “must of heard her near Sinclairs? She’s running to grab some books for this professor she’s a fan of. She tears through books like nothing else but that series…I swear she rereads them every few months.”

“Oh?” Jamie looked amused, “she sounds likes like a sweet little bookworm.”

“Oh she is,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “don’t know where she gets it from, neither her mom or me are big readers.”

“Is her mom around?” Jamie looked around, stepping back once.

“No, she’s not. She's married to the Rangers.”

They stood there listening to the usual commotion of Akila City. Laughter at the Hitching Post and guards complaining about the recent rains and puddles. Arguing over who had to clean tables in the Chunks.

“I missed you,” she said, shattering the silence, “I always regretted leaving Akila City the way I did. I knew you weren’t yourself and once you came down we could talk but I was so in my feelings I just ran. It wasn’t fair to you or Fox.”

“After the things I said? The way I acted. I knew you didn’t approve of all the—“

“That weasel of a boss Jacob set you up with was the one that introduced you to that crap. Kept Neon on your route. Sure, you did chose to take it but I know you felt pressured.”

“Maybe I was but that doesn’t excuse what I did. What I said.”

She stepped forward again and placed a hand on his chest, above the turquoise tooth hanging around his neck, “I forgave you a long time ago. It wasn’t instant but the more I replayed those memories the more I knew we could have worked through it and I gave up on you. I’m sorry.”

Sam’s cheeks were now stained with tears. She was sorry? For protecting herself? He placed his hand over hers, “You have nothing to apologize for. Your forgiveness means a lot, even if I don’t think I’ve earned it.”

She leaned in and hugged him, her arms wrapping around him under his leather jacket. He held her close, burying his nose into the nook of her neck. His hat fell to the ground as they squeezed each other tight. They were so lost in the embrace they didn’t hear the pounding footfalls hopping to a stop in the archway.

“Uh, dad?” Cora said. Sam stood tall, both their grips loosening, and saw Cora squatting down to pick up his hat.

“Thanks, gumdrop.” Sam said sheepishly.

Cora stood there, her books in a bag slung over her shoulder and his hat in her hands, with a growing look of shock.

“Everything okay? Cora?” Sam wasn’t sure what to make of this, she wasn’t usually like this. Sure, she saw him hugging Jamie but he’s hugged people before and she’s never gotten weird before. Was it the intensity of the hug? The seeming randomness?

“Professor Melody?” Cora finally managed to say before looking up at Sam with a furrowed glare, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Dr. Melody?”

“I—“ he looked to Jamie, who had taken a few steps back and out of Cora’s line of fire and was now wearing an ornery grin. “Doctor Melody? I know you and Julien talked about changing your names but…”

“During my graduate studies my mentor introduced me to her daughter who was a talented cyber runner. Her daughter specialized in helping people escape bad families or abusive relationships by permanently altering their Colonies records. I was originally going to take on my mentor’s family name because they’d all but adopted me and it was her husband who came up with Melody. He worried my family might figure out my new name by looking into public uni records but Melody was original and unique. And everyone agreed it suited me. Jamie Melody does exactly roll off the tongue but people don’t usually address me like that anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

Sam smiled, “Clever. And it does suit you. Always had a song on your lips.”

“So you two do know each other!” Cora jabbed a finger at her dad.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, Cora,” Sam reached out and teasingly grabbed her finger. She scrunched her nose and held out his hat, which he promptly took and placed back on his head, “and as you just heard, I was not aware of the name change.”

“Alright, I suppose I can let it go,” Cora dramatically said before reaching into her bag, “So I brought my two favorite.”

“I can’t wait to see which ones you picked.” Jamie held out a hand to accept the books.

“It was hard to choose,” Cora handed them over along with a black fine point marker from Sam’s workstation.

“I’m proud of you for narrowing it down. Part of me wondered if you’d try hauling the whole set back,” Sam teased his little girl. As he spoke he watched Jamie look over the books awe.

“This is a first edition,” Jamie looked shocked as she studied one of the pair, “my publisher said they pulled them after we discovered a printing error.”

“Oh that was a gift from Gramps. He gave me that one and the corrected second edition along with a few comics and a book of Akila history. I love going through both editions looking for the differences. All I’ve found are a few diagrams printed sideways and like two missing pages of pictures.”

“Yeah the errors were minor but embarrassing for the publisher,” Jamie laughed. “Let me sit down and I can inscribe these.”

“Always knew you were destined for greatness,” Sam said as she sat down, “Always assumed I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t,” she said softly as she looked up at him, “if anything you helped me fly the coop. I don’t know if I’d ever left this rock without your help. Only wish I’d timed it better.”

He fought back more tears as he felt Cora studying his face. Jamie went to work writing messages in each book. She wrote with a very slow, deliberate hand, which amused him because he knew just how messy her handwriting could get.

“So what’s the plan?” Cora asked.

“The Plan? Sam asked.

“You said we needed to talk about plans for today with visiting Gramps. I figured it had to do with our Constellation business and we both know Gramps isn’t going to like that.”

“Yup,” Sam nodded. It was scary how smart she was.

“What sort of Constellation business would need you talking to…him?” Jamie hesitated, omitting what Sam knew was a more colorful reference to Jacob, “My understanding is Constellation studies star systems, running detailed surveys of planet and moon surfaces and finding scientifically significant discoveries.”

“We are. We’re looking into the story of the Empty Nest.” Cora smiled, “Dad said what we needed was in the bank vault but since we need to see Gramps that means it wasn’t anymore.”

“Is that so?” Jamie seemed to perk up. She leaned in towards both of them and handed back the books, “would this happened to have anything to do with gravitational anomalies?”

“How do you…” Sam started to say.

“Never mind that for now, may I come with for this visit with Ol’ Jacob?” She stood up and smoothed her pants, “in case tag team sweet grandchild frustrating son can’t crack the code?”

“You know gramps too?” Cora asked.

“I do,” Jamie smiled, “we aren’t on great terms but we have an understanding. Plus he owes me a favor. If he won’t listen to you two I can call it in.”

“Jacob Coe owes you a favor?” Sam was in disbelief.

“I found some antiques with Solomon Coe’s name engraved at a consignment shop a few years back. Seller could tell I was a knowledgeable buyer and confessed they figured the pieces were forgeries but even still they were worth a pretty credstick for their condition alone. I knew Jacob had legit equipment with engravings and that the museum was his pet project at the time so I reached out. Asked him to verify the validity of the engraving and if they were real I’d give them to him in exchange for a favor down the line. They were all real, worth FAR more than I paid, and he took the deal.”

“You did that for him?” Sam asked.

“I did it for the museum,” she motioned down the road, “and I did it because having someone like your dad on the hook for a favor is useful in my line of work. Sometimes you can’t grease the squeaky wheels alone.”

“Smart,” Cora nodded sagely, “Dad we should bring the Professor along.”

“Does he know you’re the author of these books?” Sam asked.

“He does,” Jamie nodded, “He’s known about my name change for a while. Once tipped me off to some family chatter one of his connections intercepted. Apparently he had people keeping ears to the ground for any search my parents attempted on me. He didn’t want them to find me anymore than I did.”

“What?” Sam felt a rush of shock and anger. Jacob never told him any of this.

“We can talk about all that later,” Jamie reached out and patted his chest, “for now let’s focus on finding an empty nest.”

#starfield fanfiction #Sam Coe #starfield Sam Coe #sam coe x spacefarer #because ican't take a day off anymore here's something I wrote back in like september or early october #This Bella's old friend

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years

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The Proposal- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: Din proposing to Reader like in the movie The Proposal 😆- @along-the-lines-of-space

A/n: Wait! This is such a cute idea. I kinda strayed from the movie plot and made my own, so hopefully, you like it! I love you, darling!!!

Summary: You and the Mandalorian have to play husband and wife to capture your next bounty. But major things start to show and come to light.

Warnings: some foul language. But that’s it. :)

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“Don’t you walk all menacingly like! I had no other option!” You storm after the broody Mandalorian, your hands waving in the air as they try to demonstrate your thoughts.

He just growls as he continues walking to the ship.

“Did you have a better idea?” You give him a minute to respond and when he says nothing, you lift your head a little higher. “No, just what I thought. All I care about is the fact that we are going to get this bounty thanks to me!”

He twirls around suddenly and stalks towards you. Instinctively, you want to shy away and you have to bite down a squeak. But you keep your ground and glare right into his visor, hoping his stupid eyes will feel your hatred.

The abyss of his visor stares hard and cold into your soul. And you stare back. Hard.

But he just sighs and turns away. For whatever reason, this just makes you even madder.

“No, you don’t get to walk away! Come back here!”

Then he speaks for the first time in the past hour.

“Get on your knee.”

Your face recoils in confusion, “What?”

He turns around and looks at you with a hidden smirk. “If you want to marry me, then ask. Get. On. Your. Knee.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock at the audacity of him.

“No.”

“Looks like we’re out two thousand credits then.”

Cursing, you hate that he’s right. You both need this money. Greef had said that if you wanted this high of a bounty then the two of you would have to somehow get to the bounty's wedding. In a sudden burst of creativity, you declared that the two of you would play a newlywed couple. You’ve never seen his helmet turn so quickly.

You seethe as you fall to your knee. “I hate you.”

“That’s not the right word, dear.” He stands smugly as he puts emphasis on the pet name. His arms cross over his chest and he leans his weight onto one leg.

You mentally stab him about five times before sighing. “Mando…”

He hums, amusement laced in his voice.

“Will you,” a smirk works its way onto your face, “the love of my life, my sweet sweet puppy. I will never be able to live without you.”

His weight shifts back to be centered.

“I cannot go another day without asking you this.” Your hands clutch over your heart as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Get on with it.” The amusement is no longer there.

“Will you make me the happiest person in the world and…” You intentionally stop, seeing just how long you can draw this out before he snaps.

“Ask the god damn question.”

Ah, not as long as you thought. But alas, the show must go on. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, now get up and walk faster. Maybe if you run you can keep up.”

***

All those couples you see smiling at each other make marriage look like a dream come true.

But these past few days have been hell. Literal hell.

Clinging to his arm and smiling as people talk to you. Having to hold his gloved hand that is way too large to be anatomically correct. Making up scenarios of how you both met, of your first kiss, of your own wedding day.

If the ground opened up and swallowed you, you’d probably say thank you.

As for now, you’re sitting next to him at the large table you’re all having the rehearsal dinner at. Surprisingly, the bounty seems to be a nice guy. You can tell he loves his soon-to-be husband, and that he loves him as well. You’d never think that he used to be an imperial spy.

“Oh, you two are so cute!” An older lady from across the table smiles at you.

You smile back and thank her, squeezing the Mandalorian’s arm. His visor turns to look at where you did, then rises up to meet your gaze. His hand moves over and squeezes your thigh.

Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand back above the table and offer the lady another smile.

She giggles and leans forward, “You have as much fun as you want, I won’t tell.”

It takes everything in you not to cringe as you slowly nod your head and turn back to the Mandalorian.

His shoulders slightly shake and you just know he’s softly laughing under that helmet.

“Don’t laugh.” You whisper at him.

“But honey, why don’t we go back and have some fun.”

You glare at him, but then you get his idea. “Shhh, don’t say it so loud.” You both rise from the table and slide outside the restaurant, but not without the older lady sending you another wink.

As soon as the fresh air nips at your skin, you lean over in loud laughter. “Oh my goodness, I can’t.”

His vocoder cracks as his own laughs filter through. It’s a strong handsome laugh, one that is contagious and makes you stare at him with awe. In all honesty, you weren’t sure he knew how to laugh.

***

A knock sounds on your door and you rise up immediately. Crap! Mando is on the floor, that won’t look good to anyone. Grabbing anything you can, you throw it at the sleeping warrior.

Thump!

The first pillow does nothing.

Thump!

The second heavier one makes a louder sound but still draws no response from him.

The knocks sound again.

“Coming, just one second!”

You grab whatever you can and…

Clank!

You cringe as the water bottle hits him directly on the helmet.

He instantly rises and then the knocks sound again. Catching onto the problem, he stands up and starts throwing everything back on the bed.

You mean to help, but those strong golden thighs distract you. What you would give to be able to run your hand over those muscles and feel them ripple beneath your touch.

What you would give?

Nothing! You hate him! He’s annoying and snores loudly.

Shaking your head, you make the bed presentable and pretend to have just woken up as he opens the door.

“Hi!” The bounty’s fiancé peaks his head in. “Just wanted to let you all know that my mom made cinnamon rolls, I would get down there before they are gone. He offers a smile to you before walking back out into the hall.

You have no idea why, but the fiancé has taken a liking to the two of you. It almost makes you sad to collect his husband.

The Mandalorian turns to you and starts to grab his clothes and armor, dressing himself.

Suddenly you realize that if you both go down he’ll be unable to eat the cinnamon rolls. You play with the end of your shirt, the edges fraying from many years of you sleeping in it. “You know…” his visor looks up to you, “I can go get a couple and bring them back. That way you can try one and I’ll take a shower.”

Why did you say that? He’s not going to care. He’ll probably just laugh at you. In fact, why do you care?

He slowly nods his head after a minute. “That’d be nice.”

***

The hot water pours down onto your back and yet you can’t help but to ponder about the man outside the door. He’s out there, with his helmet off.

You’ve never cared about this before, but you start to wonder what he looks like. Does he have a soft boyish face or one of a hardened warrior? Is his hair a dark black or a light blond? What about his skin, is it light and fair, or deep and brown?

Thoughts run through your mind as you wrap the fluffy towel around yourself. Then you catch your reflection in the mirror. Since when have you had a small smile on your face?

Shaking your head, you slide your clothes on and open the door. You’re met with the back of a head, brown hair curly and shaggy rested atop a strong golden neck. Before you can even process what you’re seeing, you slam the door shut and lock yourself in the bathroom.

A soft knock sounds on the door. You slowly open it and keep your eyes trained on the floor. “I-, I only saw the back of your head, sorry.” Your body deflates as your shoulders drop in shame.

“It’s okay, but I need to pee.”

“Oh.” You shuffle out of the room and as soon as the door shuts you fling yourself onto the bed. Grabbing a pillow you press it against your face and scream. Why do these things always happen to you?

Why does his hair have to look so perfect to run your fingers through? Why does his neck have to be that perfect golden brown that you want to kiss? Why does he have to be so handsome?

***

As the wedding approaches, you have started to see the fierce warrior in a new light. He offers to help old ladies up stairs and jokes with the other young men. When asked about you, he speaks with so much adoration you have started to forget that he doesn’t actually love you.

Maybe you’re just being hyperaware, but he seems to always be watching you. When you turn your head to him, he already has his visor trained on you. Even when you’re across the room conversing with others he always has an eye on you.

His voice has become softer, losing the gruff edge it once held. The underlying anger having melted into a warm glow that surprised you both. A small smile seems to have made its home on both your faces, only leaving when one another isn’t around.

As the two of you lay awake, you on the bed, and the Mandalorian on the floor, you break the silence.

“I can’t do it.”

The Mandalorian makes no response, so you continue.

“I can’t take him. You’ve seen how happy they are together. How big they smile for one another and how their eyes soften. Sure he may have once been a spy but he’s changed. I mean since then his record is nearly perfect. I don’t want to be the one who tears his happiness away.”

Again, your companion says nothing.

“I know we need the money, so I can pull some strings and we can work stuff out. You won’t have to do anything, but I can’t let either of us come between them. I know it may be cheesy but what they have is a pure and true love.”

You fade back to silence, staring up at the dark ceiling and contemplating everything you just said.

“Okay.”

***

The wedding is big and bright. Garlands of beautiful flowers hang everywhere, matching the candles and lights perfectly.

And as the two men say their vows, you can’t help but entangle your arm around the Mandalorians. A single tear falls from your eye as you notice the way they look at one another. With so much passion and devotion, it’s the kind of love people wish for.

You don’t know it, but the Mandalorian's eyes don’t watch the two lovers, they instead watch you.

It’s in this moment that he finally understands why his heart swells when you’re around. He understands why he always needs to make sure you’re safe and sound. He understands why everything in him screams to wipe away your tears and hold you close.

Because he loves you.

***

You sit in silence, the Mandalorian piloting the Crest and you to his right. As the Crest falls into autopilot he turns to look at you.

When you meet his visor, you offer him a smile. “That was beautiful. I mean did you see how amazing the decor team did.”

He only nods heart heavy with anxiety.

You continue talking about all the aspects you loved, from the color scheme to the cake. But you stop when his hand rests on your own.

Tension lays thick between the two of you, suffocating and intense. You don't miss the way his adam apple bobs as he clears his throat.

“I- last week I was so furious at you. I loathed you. But, as we had to pretend things started to change. But…” his hand squeezes your own as you look up at him with wide eyes, “I didn’t realize any of this until I saw you on the wedding day. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. And as you shed your tears I wanted nothing more than to be able to wipe them away and promise you comfort.”

He slides off the chair to rest on his knees before you.

“So, please… marry me. Because I want to be able to make you as happy as that bounty, I want to stand before you and say my vows with the pretty lights and amazing garlands. I want you.”

Your jaw hangs open as you draw on hand to cover it. Water wells up at the corner of your eyes as you replay his words over in your head.

Nodding your head frantically, you fall into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Yes… yes yes yes.”

One of his hands cups the back of your head while the other snakes around your waist. He chuckles as all his anxieties fade away.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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So yeah I hope you liked it!

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment. I love hearing what you all have to say.

Love, Lordy :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty @t3a-bag @all-along-the-resolute @impala1967666 @rosiefridayrogersunday @donnaa @over300books

If you want to be added/removed from my tag list- just give me a holler and I’ll happily do it!!! :)

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

care less, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, implied taehyung x reader

summary: There are countless partings in this world. People come in and out of your life, impacts large and small. But there is one where you could care less. You really could. And that’s Min Yoongi, your high school ex-boyfriend, the one who took something from you and promptly disappeared, only to come back with a furious declaration, on the night you’re supposed to teach Kim Taehyung how to eat pussy.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; mentions of slut shaming; reader is pansexual; rough angsty smut (fem reader, slight dom/sub themes, m-receiving oral, overstimulation, hair-pulling, cowgirl); regrets everywhere; non-idol!AU; exes-to-lovers; pianist, softsub!Yoongi

inspired by “I get mad when I see you, and even madder when I don't”, wet-haired Yoongi in Run BTS! 131, ONEWE’s song ‘소행성 (Parting)’, and you’re probably wondering how these things go together.

–

"How do you eat a girl out?"

"I... what?"

"How," Kim Taehyung repeated, slower this time, emphasizing each syllable with his impossibly deep voice. "Do you eat a girl out?"

"Why are you asking me?"

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. "Because you've hooked up with tons of girls. You must have eaten out at least one of them." You blinked at him as he continued. "I figure you have a unique perspective because you're a girl whose probably been eaten out and whose eaten out other girls."

You put down your spicy chicken. "Is this why you offered to buy me lunch?"

Taehyung's giant brown eyes shifted around uncomfortably. "Look," he said in a hushed tone. "I took this girl on a nice date and then it got to the spicy bit–"

"Leading her on, yes, yes, continue."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you but ignored your comment, barreling on. "And she asked me to eat her out, but I didn't know what I was doing."

"An absolute tragedy for sex god Kim Taehyung," you mocked. He growled and threw one of his chicken bones in your direction as you laughed.

"Oi, this is serious!"

You kept cracking up, taking a bite of spicy crispy meat. "Yes, seriously funny." He kept glaring at you, so you relented a little. "She didn't ask for the dick like everyone else?"

Taehyung pouted. "Well, she did, after I spent twenty minutes doing what she called, basically nothing," he scowled.

You shrugged. "Then you redeemed yourself, so what's the problem?"

Taehyung crouched over the table, stabbing your plastic tray. "The problem is, she's gonna tell other girls I can't eat pussy."

"Nah, she won't," you chewed, relishing the spiciness of the chicken. "She'll be too busy daydreaming about your giant dick."

Taehyung frowned, obviously not believing you. You casually are another piece of chicken, watching him contemplating. He was wearing cream slacks and a beige sweater, casually handsome with his dark brown hair, long enough to curl around his eyebrows. His fried chicken was already demolished into bones. He always got his not spicy.

You never understood that.

"Why didn't you ask me to eat you out?"

You shrugged. "We were only hooking up. I wanted to sit on your dick like everyone else."

"Teach me."

Your fingers were turning bright red with the crispy breading on the meat. You could feel the tingle of the spice on your puffy lips and throat, a measured fire burning. You didn’t bother to reach for your drink. Better to lull in the fire for a bit.

"Taehyung, it's just practice."

"Then let me practice on you."

You sucked out a bit of chicken from your teeth as you gave him a disbelieving look. "Thought your policy was to never fuck twice?"

He shrugged. "Not technically a fuck? Besides, you're the Sex Teacher," he added with a snicker.

You rolled your eyes. "Ugh, don't call me that. Some dudes started calling me that just because I took some guy's virginity."

"You've probably taken several virginities with your track record."

"Speak for yourself."

"Do you or do you not know how to eat a girl out?" Taehyung asked, brown eyes boring into you.

You picked up the toothpick the restaurant had provided you and stuck it between your teeth. Brushed the crumbs off your flannel dress and picked up your tray, standing up.

"'Course I do."

Thus, you were now in your apartment with Kim Taehyung, several days later, wondering why you agreed to this nonsense.

"Do I just whip off your pants or what?"

You rolled your eyes, keeping a firm grip on your gray sweatpants. He had arrived in a long black coat and brown turtleneck, black billowy slacks. Kicked his shoes off and presented you with said question.

"What do I get out of this?" you grumbled, turning around and heading into your apartment, shivering a little because of your loose white t-shirt that you had cut in half ages ago, turning it into a crop top. It had a stain at the bottom, so what better way to fix it than chop it off? Still, you should have opened the front door with your hoodie on, but it would warm up soon with the door now closed.

"What do you what? Money?"

"I'm not a prostitute, Taehyung," you muttered. "Even if you think I am."

"I don't," Taehyung said coolly. "But money happens to buy things, so maybe you want some to buy something for yourself."

You pursed your lips, grabbing your mint thermos of warm water. It was a bit weird, but you preferred warm water over most drinks, except soda. But you couldn't be binging on soda all day, unfortunately, so you tried not to buy it and stuck with the water. Kept you from getting diabetes. Damn you, weak human body!

"Nice nips."

You raised an eyebrow as you took a sip. You weren't wearing a bra. Your hard nipples were poking through the t-shirt thanks to the cold.

"Are they distracting your fragile mind?"

Taehyung smiled, dark curls around his teasing brown eyes. "No, I'm simply appreciating them. A lot."

You looked down. Taehyung opened his coat. You sucked in the side of your lip, seeing his bulge. Maybe he was too chill with you now. Ever since you two realized your sex partners overlapped, a strange friendship developed. You’d talk about it casually with him, as if you two were discussing Pokémon trading cards instead of one-night stands. He would advise you against so-and-so and you would warn him about who-the-fuck-ever. Of course, you two only figured that out after you sat on his dick, but, hey, it was a nice dick. Lived up to the hype.

Unlike Taehyung, you didn't really have any weird rules when it came to hooking up. You went with the flow, and if you were feeling it, then you did it. Didn't really matter who it was, what gender, if they wanted to be upside down on a park bench as you sucked their balls and they jacked off into their own face (happened once, was kind of interesting to be honest). Taehyung, however, had some kind of conquest thing going on, numbers and all that, and needed everyone to know he was good at it. Insanely good. Mind-blowingly good.

Taehyung closed his coat, tilting his head. "Whatchu want then? Not another fuck. Something else."

Your doorbell rang.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you muttered, slamming your thermos down and marching to the door. "What is this, a fucking zoo, I swear–"

You wrenched the door open.

"Fuck you."

Slightly slurred, husky, deep.

Okay, well, yeah, sure, after I teach Taehyung how to–

The black head of hair raised and your thought disintegrated into pure shock.

"I get mad when I see you," the man growled. "And even madder when I don't."

He was holding a half-full bottle of soju.

"I... what?" was your incredibly weak reply, because you were staring at the hunched form of Min Yoongi. Black hair longer than the last time you saw him, styled over a clean undercut, wearing a torn-up black bomber jacket and a green t-shirt, acid-wash jeans with giant holes, revealing his pink, slightly bruised knees. He was breathing hard, glaring at you.

Accusing you.

Suddenly the years without him felt like an eternity.

"Hyung?!"

Oh right. Taehyung existed.

But you couldn't react, couldn't breathe, starstruck, awestruck, dumbstruck at seeing Min Yoongi at your doorstep. Yoongi cocked at eyebrow, looking past you, and Taehyung's body was suddenly pressed against your back, reminding you, yes, he was real, actually there, why was he there again? What was life?

"Hyung, holy shit! I haven't seen you in ages, since..." Taehyung's voice suddenly died, baritone vanishing into nothing.

"Why the fuck is he here?" Yoongi grunted.

"I... was going to ask her to–"

"He was leaving," you interrupted, shoving Taehyung from behind you to in front of you. "Taking his coat and leaving."

"What?" Taehyung sputtered, brown eyes wide, confused, blinking rapidly. "Hyung, why do you have a bottle of soju–"

Yoongi clicked his tongue, very loudly.

"Forget this."

He turned, but Taehyung grabbed his arm.

Not you.

Taehyung stopped Yoongi.

The world was so cold. Your arm outstretched but touching nothing, because Taehyung was faster, Taehyung was closer, and you were so very far away from Min Yoongi. Yoongi turned his head slowly, venom in his gaze.

"Hyung."

Yoongi's eyes locked with yours, making you breathless.

"I don't understand," Taehyung said quietly. "What's going on? I thought you didn't care about her."

Those cat-like eyes narrowed, expression cold and emotionless. "Is that what you told them?"

It was airless and then the world burst into flames.

"You didn't tell me until the last day," you hissed, curling your hands into fists, voice rising. "You told all your friends, but you didn't tell me until the last day, not until the very last second before you flew to fucking Europe to go to university for that fucking music program!"

Taehyung's eyes widened. "Y-You said she didn't care..."

"Fuck you, Min Yoongi," you snarled, every muscle in your arms tensing, remembering all the moments, the gentleness that turned to coldness, the last night and what he took from you, turning into years and years of not caring about anything, fucking everything in sight, anyone who said yes, trying to forget his kiss and his memory before he got on a fucking plane and flew time zones away, never trying to contact you after.

"Fuck you for thinking you can be angry at me for any reason at all, fuck you for thinking I did anything, fucking anything, to deserve that shit, taking my fucking virginity and leaving me!"

"I didn't take your virginity," Yoongi spat back, spinning around, hair bristling. "You lost it to that–"

"Maybe you should have fucking asked me instead of believing stupid fucking rumors!"

The human body was useless, but also driven by emotion, and you didn't even feel cold anymore, years of anger piled up, rumors that you were a whore, so you became that whore, owning it, doing it all, because why did it fucking matter when everyone already thought that? Sex Teacher they called you and your first teacher was standing in front of you, completely clueless.

Fucking idiot.

Yoongi glared at you. You glared back.

Taehyung stood there, gawking.

Yoongi's eyes dropped. He shoved the half-empty bottle of soju into Taehyung's arms and pushed Taehyung aside, Taehyung flailing to prevent dropping the glass bottle, and closed the distance between you and him, and now you could see, older, more tired, still handsome, still the same dreamer from years ago who traced your fingers and placed them on the keys, slowly helping you play the notes even though you didn’t know jack shit, and you enthralled with his smile, his laugh, his dream of becoming a world-renowned pianist.

Yoongi grabbed your face and kissed you.

The first was the scent of alcohol, a subtle sweetness on his lips, but alcohol nonetheless. The second was the softness, the faint flush of his cheeks paired with his lips on yours, dainty despite the strength in grip on your cheeks. The third.

Heat.

The years-old iceberg of 'I-don't-give-a-shit' melting faster than the polar ice caps, sheets and sheets of ice crashing into the sea of emotions, youth and stubbornness combined, melted in his kiss, you grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him in your apartment, Taehyung calling after you both.

"Um, guys? Hello?"

"Go drinking Taehyung," Yoongi growled and slammed the door.

Taehyung held the half-bottle of soju.

What now?

What about his reputation?

He frowned.

Maybe he should call up Park Jimin.

Taehyung took a sip of the soju as he walked away. He made a disgusted face. Ugh. Why did hyung like such strong shit? The flavor was unique and rich, but his throat felt like a layer of skin was being sloughed off.

One would only drink something like this if they were depressed.

Oh.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"Fuck off."

"You became quite a woman."

"And you're still an insensitive shit."

You yanked his jacket off and dumped it on the floor, fists back in his green shirt, biting his lip, kissing him hard, him gasping in your mouth, his hands on your breasts, kneading them through the t-shirt, fingertips brushing over your hard nipples, sparks of pleasure crackling through you.

"I was trying to protect you," Yoongi snarled, just as angry as you, both frustrated at time lost, both knowing it was for the best, both realizing that his misunderstanding and your reaction was just shitty communication of stubborn youth and time past that couldn't reset.

But still.

Anger doesn't care about reason.

"Protect me, my ass," you scowled, dragging him into your kitchen, pinning him against the counter. "What do you think I am, emotional fragility queen?"

"You wouldn't have cared?" he shot back, gripping your shirt and flinging it up, sucking in a breath as he revealed your tits.

"Obviously! Why would I spend years being a slut to forget about your stupid hands?" you scowled, grabbing his wrists, planting said hands on your breasts, shuddering at the cold touch, chilled by night air, not exactly the same hands as back then, but better, rougher, strength of a man and not a high school boy, thumb and index finger rolling your hard nipples. Once again, fistfuls of his shirt, shaking him aggressively through heavy breaths. "You and your stupid mouth."

Kissing him, not the same, but better, stronger, more intense, stained with alcohol and regrets, devouring your tongue hungrily, intertwining.

"It would have ended the same," Yoongi murmured, the hurt creeping in his grating voice.

It would have.

And that was the shittest bit.

Knowing that even if he told you earlier that it would hurt no less, knowing that you would have gone and fucked other people anyway, because even if you tried to make it long distance, it wouldn't have worked. Some people could do it, but not young you and young Yoongi, too immature to know the meaning of wait.

"Still gives you no right to believe the words of others instead of asking me outright," you muttered, bending him backwards on the counter with your weight and he was letting you do it, hands still glued to your tits. "Why would believe that shit?"

"Because it was easier to leave you that way," Yoongi admitted, shame flitting in his dark eyes.

"Fucking shit, you're an idiot."

You already knew that. Guessed, after years of agonizing over it. Easier to be angry than understanding. Easier to feel pain than to acknowledge it. What could you do? Tell him not to go to Europe? Not when his parents, his family, his friends, his neighbors, fuck, the whole damn school was ecstatic and congratulatory for him, everyone except you, not because you didn’t want Yoongi to follow his dreams, but because you wanted him to stay.

With you.

Selfishly.

And so, it was so much easier to be mad, so much easier for the two of you to fight until he tumbled on top of you, kissing you, tearing off your clothes as you tore off his and the first time hurt, it hurt but not as much as you thought, maybe because there was so much adrenaline from the anger and because he was so careful and loving about it.

He really was.

And there was pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain you felt the next day and the day after, and the next month, years, numbing everything, agreeing to really stupid propositions like the thing with Taehyung, all because you knew and he knew, but you both chose to be mad over being reasonable.

You hauled Yoongi up onto your kitchen counter, him kicking the side of the cabinets to lift himself up, not speaking. One look in his eyes and you saw yourself reflected in them, so close to tears that you kept your mouth shut and he kept his shut, preferring the anger to the sadness.

Because deep down, you were so, so happy to see Yoongi again.

It didn’t discount any of the wrongs though.

You fumbled with the button of his jeans and his hands came to help, unzipping, fingertips tracing over yours, more agile than before, swifter than an amateur. You raised your head, locking your gaze with his.

Yoongi was panting, cheeks flushed, guilt consuming his features.

It stung.

You yanked his pants down unceremoniously, not caring right now about stupid young you and stupid young Yoongi, gripping his underwear and dragging them down, his hard cock springing up, bigger than you remembered, thicker, red tip twitching, still wanting it just as bad, not looking at his face and closing your mouth in on it, gripping his hips and pulling him closer for better leverage. His scent and moan encompassed you, your eyes shutting as your tongue circled around his hot length, swallowing it up, oh so good, so good, better than anyone else’s because it was the one you tried to forget, entranced by the way Yoongi’s cock slid down your throat and filled your mouth, hearing his ecstasy from your touch, gasps of pleasure as you began to bob your head up and down, tongue going from the bottom of the head, down the quivering veins, all the way to the base, nudging his balls with the tip of your tongue, a skill you learned from many, many blowjobs.

You opened your eyes and you knew your guilt was in them. Yoongi could see it with every mouthful of his cock disappearing into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated, empathizing.

“Yeah, so what if we’ve fucked other people?” he grunted, rolling his hips into your face and making you growl in your chest. “I could care less.”

Yeah, you could, and me too.

Faster and tighter, suffocating him with your mouth, hands flat on the counter, blowing him at the same spot you were eating a fucking salad two hours ago before Taehyung’s arrival and contemplating tongue techniques, back when your iceberg of uncaring was still intact but now it was part of the ocean of emotions once more, watching Yoongi unravel, rubbing his fists into the granite, crying out and arching his back, black hair fanning out with every harsh swallow and throat clench around the head, leaking pre-cum into your throat and throbbing into the roof of your mouth.

“F-Fuck me…”

He hissed out your name and snapped his chin to his chest, thrusting into your mouth, exploding, salty thickness coating your tongue and down your tight throat, you gulping it down with a choked gasp, his taste a part of you now after all this time, an edge of bitterness that you welcomed, who knew what the fuck he was eating before this, but you didn’t care, didn’t care, you had Yoongi’s cock in your mouth and every second was worth it.

Your tongue coated the head, collecting the dribbling cum and you swallowed that too, glaring at him. Lowering down once more, swallowing him to the base once again, him sucking in a pained breath at the sensitivity because your throat was unforgiving, constricting him as forcefully as you could, tongue sliding up, teasing right under the head, the thin skin that make Yoongi squirm and hiss under you, spreading the slit with the tip of your tongue. Yoongi slapped his palms onto the counter, clenching his jaw to avoid screaming.

But he didn’t stop you.

He simply watched you with pained eyes, letting you do whatever you wanted, thrashing under your merciless mouth, rutting the sensitive head against the roof of your mouth roughly, his body thrashing to try to get away, but still Yoongi said nothing, thin moans escaping his closed lips, even twisting his hips back and rocking them into your face to let you abuse him more, manhandling him to your heart’s content. You kept going, long agonizing minutes, strongly sucking the head, shoving it all the way to the back of your throat, teasing it with your tongue, swirling around and around, pressure, roughness, tightness, aggravating the sensitive skin until you saw Yoongi on the verge of tears.

He still didn’t stop you.

You retreated, your lips now only around the head, tongue ghosting over the pulsating, inflamed tip, drenching it with saliva.

“You deserved that,” you muttered.

“I deserve a lot of things,” Yoongi grunted, finally relaxing his shoulders and laying flat against the counter, panting hard, cheeks still flushed, staring at the ceiling.

Neither of you were saying sorry.

You gave him one last painful suck and he swore under his breath, but didn’t say anything else, biting his lip hard as you popped your mouth off his cock. For a few moments, there was nothing but oppressive, irate panting. Yoongi’s dick was still hard and sticking straight up, he himself spread out on your kitchen counter like a fucking buffet, still wearing his shirt and half-wearing his jeans. You were shirtless, tits out, gray sweatpants slung low on your hips.

“When are you going back?”

Yoongi was still staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t know.”

“Liar.”

Dark eyes flickered down.

“If you asked me five minutes ago, the answer would have been in two weeks.”

Your eyes narrowed, boring into his. “How many blowjobs have you gotten overseas, huh? One hundred? Five hundred?” Frustration, grief, vehemence, all rolled into one, turning your voice into ice, sheets of frozen water churning and reforming, snapping together one by one with each word, your hands coming up and digging your nails into his thighs, racking them down, bright red scratches in your wake. “How many people have you fucked? Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Yoongi?”

He gritted his teeth, screwing his eyes shut, fingers curling onto fists at the pain.

“I really thought you didn’t care,” was his distressed hiss.

You stopped; nails sunk into his pale skin, creating dark crescents with how hard you were pressing.

“I thought you would hate me forever.”

Your hands left his thighs, glaring scarlet lines of your pain on his skin now.

“And I thought it would get better, but it didn’t.”

His fingers uncoiled, one by one. Long, deft digits, practiced, trained, beautiful, crescents of pink from his own nails in his palm. Eyes opening, lash by lash, lifting, dark, pained, regretful, drifting down to you and his exposed, still-hard cock, just there, ignored, surrounded by scratch marks.

“I was mad that you didn’t try to contact me,” Yoongi mumbled. “And madder at myself for not trying to contact you.”

Ice cracking, melting off, crashing back down into the vast ocean of emotion.

You reached into your pocket.

Your name, tumbling from his lips, his eyes shifting to you.

“In between countless partings, the one I always remembered was you.”

You climbed onto the counter, sweatpants and underwear on the floor. Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock, so stunned that he couldn’t stop staring at you, knees, thighs, crotch – clean, you were always clean-shaven, but he didn’t know that, a habit you developed without him and now you felt weird with hair down there – and so he could see everything, wet lips glistening. Up to your waist, a pattern of small moles above your bellybutton that high-school Yoongi had danced his fingers over.

Saying, “My Milky Way, my galaxy.”

This was after you called him an insensitive bastard and he accused you of losing your virginity to some athletic jock kid, as if high-school you would ever have a chance with someone like that.

Up your tits, your collarbones, your face.

Determined.

Yoongi jumped, realizing you had wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped it a few times before rolling down the condom, angling your pussy above the purple-red head. He made eye contact with you.

“I can’t go back if you do this,” he whispered.

“Boo-fucking-hoo, shut your trap.”

You sank down and he clamped his jaw shut, veins on his neck popping out in strain as Yoongi tried not to cry, your previous ministrations amplifying the sudden hot, wet pleasure that overwhelmed him, you sighing in bliss as he filled you, nicer than before, better because you knew what to do now, relaxing your muscles before pulsing around him, his eyelids fluttering, whines in his throat, palms flat on the granite, such beautiful hands that you reached down and put them on your thighs, wanting him to touch you.

Dark brown eyes shaking, pupils dilated, fingernails digging into your skin.

“Isn’t that what you do? Use your hands all day?” you taunted.

He gripped your thighs tight, apology flashing across his features.

“You better not cum before I do,” you snapped, rocking your hips a little.

Yoongi sucked in a breath. “I’ll try.”

You leaned forward, one hand on the counter, the other closing in on his black hair. Twisting the black locks in your fingers, gripping so hard your knuckles were white, but you weren’t pulling on his hair, only holding it, but your eyes told him everything.

“You fucking owe me.”

Him staring into your blazing eyes.

“I owe you for the rest of my life.”

You rolled your hips into his crotch, hard, smacking your ass down on his balls and he whimpered, jerking his head to the side and pulling his own hair, whimper turning into a wounded gasp.

“Shut the fuck up. We both know you deserved that scholarship, you talented asshole.”

You began your pace, bruising and intense from the start, unforgiving, but you had already forgiven him, years ago, by yourself with no one else to know, now your hand in his hair with Yoongi writhing under you, causing his own pain flaring across his scalp because your grip was so tight, his hands on your thighs, his length sliding out and then shoved back in. You could feel him getting harder, swelling more, the sensation unbearable so he kept igniting the pain to prevent himself from orgasm. You made sure to let the maximum amount of your skin to hit him – clit on his crotch, pussy enveloped around his cock, the tip hitting your deepest, most pleasurable spot, ass smacking against his balls – so that even you moaned, shivers of ecstasy layering on top of each other, climbing notes of a song from long ago.

Now continuing.

From that night at your parents’ house that bedroom of painful and lovely memories, his hands on your wrists, telling you that he could go slow until you felt better, how could he not know? Yoongi just assumed it was because you weren’t aroused since you were so angry at him, and you never accused him of having any experience before you, and to be honest you didn’t give a shit; if that was society’s fault or your feelings for him, you didn’t know. It all seemed so foolish back then, stupid, why were you so attached to a high-school boy when there were thousands of other men and women out there, and you tried, you fucked them, but in the end.

In the end, it wasn’t the roars of pleasure or multiple orgasms or big dicks or sweet pussy that made you feel the same as you felt when you looked down at Yoongi, eyes rolling back, biting his lip so hard the skin was white, black hair bunched around your fingers, his fucking green t-shirt still on but you could tell every muscle was tensed and he was barely breathing, anything to prevent himself from orgasm, knuckles white on your thighs, clutching them so hard they would surely leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

Yoongi was a genius. He could play the piano like no one else.

Someone could be technically better, someone could be more experienced, someone could be more nuanced, but no one felt music like Yoongi felt music, no one loved piano like how Yoongi loved piano.

He deserved every cent, every experience, every year he spent overseas.

He seemed to feel your gaze on him and his eyes found yours, black pupils nearly overtaking the irises, sweating so bad that his t-shirt was soaking down the front.

“Hold on,” you breathed. “Hold on for me, Yoongi.”

He whined pathetically.

Did he love you as much as he loved piano or was it the soju talking?

Who are you kidding?

Yoongi would never love you as much as the piano.

You set your jaw and leaned down a little more, bending his cock the tiniest bit, more leverage to go harder, rougher, rolling your spine down, smack! Onto his crotch, Yoongi’s mouth flying open and crying out your name in shock, your knees screaming on the harsh granite but you didn’t care, fucking Yoongi for all you were worth, using every muscle and every technique you knew to apply as much pressure as you could, choking his dick. Yoongi’s hands jolted off your thighs, hitting your open thermos on the counter, both of your forgetting it was there this whole time, the double-walled, stainless steel, mint thermos.

It toppled and spewed warm water all over your thighs, your joined crotches, part of his shirt, probably leaking down his ass and onto the counter.

You yelped at the sudden unexpected wet warmth. Yoongi’s hips jerked up, wild moan escaping his lips and your pussy spasmed, orgasm plummeting into you, a sudden avalanche that made your eyes roll back and a guttural groan vibrate your chest, both hands inadvertently clasping and yanking on Yoongi’s hair, and he lost it, whining your name as he came, hard cock lurching and convulsing against your walls, shooting his load into the condom, his cries extending to wanton, pained moans. It took everything in you to at least loosen your fingers, spreading them on his scalp and holding his head as gently as you could, whole body shuddering, even your jaw, not able to say his name properly because your teeth were clattering uncomfortably against each other.

You closed your eyes.

Listening to Yoongi’s strained breathing. Hearing pain, sadness, his raspy voice from long ago, words in the seconds before you feel asleep in his arms from being worn out from anger and losing your virginity. All this time, wanting to believe it was silence, wanting to believe he said nothing, letting yourself believe in your lie to fuel your rage.

“I am sorry.”

You opened your eyes, lowering your chin. Yoongi’s dark orbs, glassy and spent, trying to focus on your face. His hand came up, still wet with the spilled water, and you realized you had pitched forward a little from the force of your orgasm.

His fingers danced on the small mole pattern above your bellybutton.

“My Milky Way. My galaxy,” he whispered softly.

Lovingly.

Guilt all over his face.

“I have to go back. I have performances, opportunities.”

You leaned down. “Stop lying, Yoongi.” Eyes locked with his and a smile. “You want to go back. Because you are an ambitious, talented asshole.”

You knew you were right. You could see it in his eyes, the quickness as he looked away, not wanting to face you. You slumped down, knees giving out, Yoongi’s cock half-buried in you, slowly softening, but it didn’t matter. You put your full weight on him, fitting your chin on his shoulder, not quite looking at his face, nose far too close to your fucking kitchen counter. Yoongi grunted uncomfortably, but didn’t tell you to get off. There was water everywhere and the mint thermos was on the tile floor and somehow neither of you had noticed. It must have made a very loud sound.

“I hate my job anyway. Might as well run away to a different continent for some stupid boy.”

“I can’t ask you to come with me.”

“I’m not asking.”

He chuckled.

“You really have changed.”

“Sucks for you.”

You felt his arms wrap around your waist.

“Guess so.”

“Why was Taehyung here anyway?”

“I was supposed to show him how to eat pussy.”

Yoongi blinked at you, holding a damp rag. Both of you were kneeling on the floor, naked, attempting to sop up the mess. “How?”

“He was going to practice on me.”

“I can give a live demonstration instead,” Yoongi growled, an edge possessive.

“Yeah, no, I think my night is booked. Emergency appointment.”

You picked up your kitchen towels and wrung them out in your sink, looking down at him, raising your eyebrow. Yoongi’s hair was messy and curled, wet from sweat and water. He gazed up at you. You saw him shiver. You kept your expression neutral despite your heartbeat racing.

“Have some catching up to do.”

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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the-slasher-files · 3 years

Text

Temper, temper - pt 3

INCLUDES BO SINCLAIR ONESHOT

TW: nsfw, rough sex, dirty talk, angst

WORDS: 2069

“BO” You yelled in the living room barely obstructing the sound of breaking glass in the kitchen “BO, STOP”

Again, he was lost, lost somewhere in his uncontrolled rage. Usually your voice would snap him out of the anger, but not tonight. It was a long, long night. Undenounced drifters found the town of Ambrose this afternoon, not knowing their fate by the end of the evening. You were at work in the next town over when you got the text from Bo “Travelers, don’t come home until I text you” That was all you needed to know, he would be killing tonight.

Following his instructions, you waited and waited. Stopping in at a local shitty bar trying to calm your nerves with whiskey and rum, constantly staring at your phone on the counter. The drifters came in around 1 pm and it was now pushing 2 am. No text, no call, no nothing. Worry, guilt and anxiety all formed a pit in your stomach. Usually they were done by now. Was he hurt? or dead? you thought, zoning out on your black phone screen, swirling the brown liquid in your glass.

“You ok lady? Do you want me to call someone for you?” The bartender spoke making you jump. Shaking your head you placed the cash on the bar, gulping the last of the alcohol grimacing at the burn in your throat. Grabbing your phone and purse you hopped into your jeep, checking the messages one last time before pulling away.

Tears were trying to force their way from your eyes as you sped down the pitch black highway. You were so consumed in your thoughts that your body just automatically drove you home.

At the washed out road Lester’s truck was sitting there, as if he was waiting for you. Both you and Lester jumped out of your vehicles, running up to each other. “Lester where is he? I need to know?” your voice breaking

“Now, now you don’t wan’ to go up there,” Lester reckoned, holding your shoulders trying to force you back to your vehicle.

“L-Les please, let me see him” You didn’t care if he was beaten or just raging, you needed to know if he was fine.

“Look, if you go up there... It ain’t pretty, the kills were not clean.. There was a lot of struggle, Bo-” he was cut off from his explanation.

“Bo is what?” you asked quietly trying to control yourself.

“Bo is a mess right now, ragin’ madly.. He is madder than a bull righ’ now... I haven’t seen him like this in a long while” Lester warned you, but could see in your eyes how badly you needed to see him. Bo’s brothers had seen you tame his temper before, so maybe tonight you were the sight for sore eyes he needed.

Lester let you go, running up the dirt path to the hidden town and up to the house. Bo’s truck was sitting outside, the front hood was dented and covered in blood. One of the house windows was newly broken, letting the yelling and clashing out into the cool night air.

So there you were, yelling his name trying to get his attention without getting too close. “BO ENOUGH!” you shouted, finally grabbing his attention. Whipping around with a wild look in his eyes, they were no longer baby blue, they were dark and hardened, this wasn’t the same man that you left this morning.

Bo was covered in a combination of sweat and blood, a few open wounds surrounded his body. His dark hair was dishevelled and formed curls from his dampness. This was a man he had only let you see a handful of times, and yet it was still jarring. Crazed, wild, not man nor beast.

“Baby,” You sweetly spoke to him trying to release him from his anger. Relieved to see him walking around and ok, you could breathe again. Bo’s temper always controlled him and it was something you knew how to handle or at least get him to come down from, but tonight might be different. “Babe,”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He bit back at you, kind of hurting your feelings, you knew it was in rage but it just stung. “I didn’ call you or text you, why’d you come home?”

“I needed you.. I needed to make sure you’re fine-” He cut you off from your easing voice.

“FINE?! Fine? You don’ think I can handle myself?” Bo questioned turning around to knock whatever was on the counter off it with loud smashes and clangs. Anytime he thought you questioned his abilities, especially to protect or take care of himself he lost it.

“Bo that’s not what I meant, you know that... I- I just couldn’t stop thinking about the worst... Like if you were injured or even killed.” It went quiet for a second as he gripped the sides of the sink huffing and puffing. “Bo... baby” Softly talking to him walking to the kitchen, seeing the broken glass all over the floor. Stopping at the doorway, you waited. Waited for him to do something. “look at me Bo, please”

Shooting back his gaze meeting yours, his eyes were still dark and wild. You could tell his mind was working in overdrive, a war between good and evil fought inside his head. One of his biggest fears was hurting or even killing you out of anger. Bo was suddenly hovering over you in the doorway, looking at you like a wolf about to hunt an injured lamb. “Bo” you tried to get him to snap out of himself for a minute.

Reaching his bloody hand up looking like he was going to caress you for a minute, he grabbed your throat instead, pushing you against the doorway almost lifting you. “Christ.. Bo” Clawing at the deep scar tissue on his wrist, trying to not go too hard for fear it will set him off into rage more, remembering his childhood.

With his other arm he grabbed your waist making your legs wrap around his, he growled when you adjusted yourself, grinding against him. “You need to learn how to listen to me... I did not text you... I did not want you here yet,” Bo heaved, pressing himself against you, forcing the doorway uncomfortably into your shoulder blades. “Comin’ home early you get to see this.... this fucking monster” He spoke about himself with a hint of sadness in his voice, trying to break himself of his own anger.

The sentence broke your heart, but before you could dwell on it his large hand came off your throat and carried you to the pool table in the middle of the living room. Trying to recover your breathing from his hand, Bo placed you on your back with your head lazily hanging off the wooden edge, knowing what was coming you just prayed Vincent and Lester would not walk into the house, or hear your impending screams of pleasure and Bo’s dirty talk.

Quickly Bo undid his belt and opened his blood covered mechanic pants letting his half hard cock free and immediately roughly forced it into your mouth, moaning as he did it. “Fuuuck.. what a good girl” Bo snatched your hands that were trying to grip onto something, letting you clench his forearm and numb wrist as he thrusted in and out of your mouth. His other hand trailed down to your jeans, unbuttoning them and rubbing your increasing wetness.

“All wet for me already... you little slut... getting off on my rage” He growled picking up pace, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. So incased in lust he didn’t notice the fact your skull was being banged on the solid wood, or the fact that you were making choking noises around his now fully erect member.

Bo looked down seeing the stream of tears coming from your eyes, and the spit that was creating strings along your face. He loved this sight, he could stare at it all day. “You are such a good cock whore” Smirking at the names he called you. Bo always loved to say things that would make a sailor blush, it was just him in this state, all day he would call you angel or baby girl but in this world right now, you were his little fuck toy.

With his hand still teasing you over your underwear, making you a needy mess, Bo suddenly pulled the fabric aside pushing 2 thick fingers inside making you moan loudly on his cock. Precum coated your tongue and his member twitched in warning that he was about to reach his climax. Bo pulled out of your mouth leaving you gasping and coughing.

Your eyes blurred with tears, as you tried to wipe them away you noticed Bo was gone, not standing above you anymore. Once you were ready to ask where he was, he grabbed your ankles from the other side of the pool table making you squeak. Bo pulled you to the middle of the table ripping off your clothes until you were completely bare, so vulnerable, like prey.

Climbing on top of you, his smell was overwhelming, cigarettes, sweat, and iron. His body was heaving and shaking possibly from the sex or still from his anger. Bo’s eyes were still dark and his body was tense, elbows on either side of your head and he straddled your body, caging you, looking at you like a feast. Kind of making you uncomfortable.

Without warning he thrusted into you letting your back arch so you were chest to chest. “Fuck your cunt is tight... so perfect” Bo sharply inhaled as all of him filled you, touching every place you needed. “You need to be fucked more”

His speed was growing and growing with each thrust, pulling out of you almost fully before ramming back into you, leaving you whimpering and writhing in pleasure under him. “Bo” you cried as his elbows were now digging into your shoulders having his thrusts moved you up, pushing the bones into your muscles. “Ah fuck, Bo”

“Louder” he hoarsely demanded, not in the state of mind to care about what his brothers heard. “I said louder”

“Bo.. BO, please BO” you were so close to your end, the heat coil burning in your stomach

“Let it go you slut... let the whole fuckin’ town hear you” growling against your neck now biting it

“BO” you screamed clenching your walls around his cock making him lose it as well, coating your insides with his seed. You went lifeless on the table. The night had too many emotions and feelings that your body had just given out, as did Bo’s. He rolled next to you, heavy panting filled the room.

Turning your head towards him, observing him, seeing what he was going to want next, but he looked dead tired, he looked almost broken. Bo turned his head meeting your eyes, his baby blues were back and the tension had released throughout his whole body as it shuttered. Your man was back, and he looked sorry.

You reached your small hand over his jaw, wiping away any sweat, blood or dirt from the eventful evening. “Bo.. baby... You are not a monster” recalling back to what he had said in the kitchen 15 minutes before. He just closed his eyes and kissed your hand as it came to his lips.

“You don’t deserve what they did to you.” your free hand gently caressing his closest wrist, rubbing the hard scars of the past. It was hard for him to feel anything there from the damage of the nerves and the tough skin, but he knew what your hand was doing. Your touch and words almost made him tear up, no one was like you, you were his world. The only one that could calm him and save him from himself. Bo left his eyes closed not wanting you to see the salty water trying to escape.

He groaned as he pried himself off the table, his injuries beginning to sting and become sore. Grabbing the blanket off the couch he wrapped you in it and lifted you to bed, placing kisses on your forehead. Pulling you close in bed once he undressed and showered.

“I’m sorry” He quietly spoke “You’re my everything angel”

#FUUUCK #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #my writing #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #horror #dirty talk

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Risk - [Hotch x Reader]

Summary: Things on a case go badly because reader took a risk. The entire team is mad at her...but no one more so than her unit chief.

Pairing: Hotch x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content Warnings: Rough sex, mild brat taming, pussy slapping, choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, Dom!Hotch.

Rating: Explicit

Request prompt: Could you please write a smut (hotch x fem!reader) where reader doesn’t listen to hotch’s orders in a case and she almost gets killed and on the jet on the way home there’s a big ass argument including everyone and it's whole BAU against reader and when they land back home reader is super mad and hotch tells her hes going to take her home and then they have angry sex

A/n: I didn't edit this as thoroughly as I usually do. All mistakes are mine. Hopefully the smut makes up for it. 😌 And I hope the anon that requested this likes it!

-- Risk --

The paramedics had ignored me the multiple times I insisted that I was fine. Luckily, they seemed to agree that I didn’t need to go to the hospital. It was still early enough in the day that the team might be able to fly back home if the local police didn’t need our help wrapping everything up.

I wasn't looking forward to the ass-chewing I knew I was about to get, but I couldn't regret my actions. I'd do it all again, even if that meant feeling a bullet burn across my upper arm.

Once I was released, I made my way over to the SUVs, seeing only Prentiss and JJ standing by them.

“Where is everybody?” I asked once I was close enough.

Both women stiffened at the sound of my voice. Prentiss turned away like I hadn’t spoken. JJ shifted her weight from foot to foot awkwardly.

“They’re wrapping things up with the local police,” the blonde woman answered. “Do you not have to go to the hospital?”

“Just a graze.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly, her lips pressing into a tight line.

“I’ll get the others; maybe we can get the fuck out of here,” Prentiss muttered, walking away without so much as looking at me.

I probably deserved that.

The entire ride to the airstrip was filled with tense silence. Even Rossi wasn’t looking at me. Despite the awkwardness, I still couldn’t bring myself to regret my decision. A 12-year-old girl was going home safe tonight because of me; that was all that mattered.

Everyone else could just scratch their mad spot, as my grandma would say.

I was the last one to board the jet, already dreading the 2-hour flight home from Atlanta. JJ and Reid were on the couch, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss were in the 4 chairs around the small table.

All that suited me just fine, as I really just wanted to go home. I took my seat at the back of the plane, near the section that led to the bathroom. I was prepared to put on my headphones and keep my eyes closed for the entire flight home.

The plane had been in the air for about 20 minutes when one of them finally snapped. I wasn’t surprised that it was Morgan.

“What the fuck were you thinking, y/l/n?” He demanded, his voice low and harsh.

I didn’t bother turning my gaze away from the window. “I was thinking I needed to save Annabelle Richards, who is home safe now. Job done.”

Prentiss scoffed then muttered something under her breath.

“Kiddo,” Rossi began gently. “Yeah, you did the job. But you almost died. You ran in there like a hot head and almost got yourself killed.”

I couldn’t not look at Rossi. He sounded genuinely upset, and the older man had always been unfailingly kind to me in the months since I’d joined the team.

"I know," I conceded, meeting his gaze head-on. "But I couldn't see another way."

“So, you were just going to give up your life? We had no reason to believe they’d release her.” Morgan fumed, back in the game.

“It was our best shot.”

“No, it fucking wasn’t! If you hadn’t been so stupid you would have seen that!”

"Oh, very mature, Morgan. I didn't know we'd resorted to name-calling."

“He’s right,” JJ said, her eyes shifting from Morgan to me. “You were stupid and reckless. You almost died. If Hotch hadn’t taken that shot in time, you would have.”

I licked my lips, my eyes closing briefly. “I understand why you’re upset-“

“No.”

All the air in the room seemed to still at that one word. The voice we had all been waiting for had finally tagged into the match, The Entire BAU vs. Y/n Y/l/n.

I wasn’t prepared for Hotch to fucking stand up and start walking towards the back of the plane, his eyes boring into me. “No, you don’t understand why we’re upset.” His hand gripped the top of the seat in front of me, his knuckles were white with the force of his hold.

“Hotch-“

“Shut UP!” He pointed his index finger at me. “You don’t get to talk. You behaved like a spoiled child. I don’t know how they do things in Richmond, but you’re in fucking Quantico now. You’re a member of my team, and I cannot have rogue agents on my team.”

“What the fuck did you want me to do, Hotch?”

His eyes hardened even more. “I expect all of my agents to stick to the fucking hostage protocol!’

I was on my feet before I even realized I was moving. “She was 12-years-old, and she was screaming!’

“Because she was scared, y/n! She was a child trapped in a building with a mad man and she was scared! We had the profile! We all knew he wasn’t going to hurt her! She was his endgame!”

My fists were balled up at my side. “I couldn’t risk that.”

“Then maybe I can’t risk having you on this team. Sit down, I’ll deal with you when we land.” I opened my mouth to speak, but he snapped again. “That’s a fucking order!”

As you would expect, the remaining hour of the flight home was completely calm and filled with no tension whatsoever.

Not.

Spencer and I were the last ones to get off the plane; he was the only one who hadn’t spoken to me. “Are you mad at me too?”

He licked his lips, considering his words. “I’m not mad like the rest of them. I understand why you felt like you had to do it. I’ve broken protocol like that too. But I am mad because you’re my friend. And because of how you acted, I almost lost my friend.”

Out of all the words hurled at me tonight, Spencer’s actually cut me.

“Reid,” I mumbled out.

“Give them time,” he said, shrugging his bag up on his shoulder before walking away.

Time was not given to me, however. I was standing in front of the elevators when someone called my name from the bullpen.

I turned, giving my unit chief a blank stare. “Yeah?”

“Are you leaving?”

I blinked, then pointed to the elevator.

He wasn’t amused. “Are you going to take the train home?”

“That’s the plan,” I informed him, turning back to face the elevator, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m taking you home.”

My head jerked back. “No, you’re not.”

He took a step towards me, his face was set in a scowl that sent criminal running, and he towered over me. “You disobeyed a direct order twice today; I’m still debating on whether or not to put this bullshit in your file and you were shot.”

I mean…he’s not wrong.

“You’re not going to ride a train for 45 minutes when I can get you home in 20.”

I sighed, too tired to fight. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

The longer I sat in the front seat of Hotch’s car, the madder I got. How dare he yell at me in front of the entire time for doing my job? Where the fuck did he get off intimidating me into getting into a car with him? Threatening to put shit in my file when all I did was save a little girl’s life.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that he picked up on my mood shifting. “I thought members of the team didn’t profile each other.”

“You’re not acting like a member of this team, so why should I treat you like one?”

I had to bite down on my tongue to hold the string of curses inside my mouth. This smug mother fucker had absolutely no right to talk to me like that.

What had started out as cold anger now roared to life in my veins; I could feel my hands starting to shake.

Thankfully, he was true to his word and got me home in 20 minutes. The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop before I was undoing my seat belt and grabbing my bag. I shoved the door open, turning around to face him while he still sat in the car, his eyes fixed on me.

“Thanks for the ride, Boss,” I spat out. “Since I’m clearly not compatible with your team, you’ll have my transfer request on your desk first thing in the morning.”

He opened his mouth to say something; probably something that would have made me even more mad. But I cut him off, I couldn’t stop myself. I was fucking seething.

"Fuck you, and your perfect team," I said, slamming the door behind me.

I didn’t want to hear another word from that man, so I darted into my building, taking the three flights of stairs rather than waiting for the elevator. I was still so fucking mad. And what’s more, I actually think I was a little hurt.

I expected the bullet wound to hurt, but I never expected the entire team’s reaction to hurt worse.

Reaching my door, I fished my keys out of my bag, more than ready to get this day over with.

I was so fucking distracted I didn’t realize anyone was behind me until my door was open. A large hand grabbed me by my hair and shoved me inside. I tried to struggle, but his other hand clapped over my mouth while he kicked the door shut behind him.

My pure fucking terror only lasted for a few moments. The man turned me, slamming my back against my front door.

“Hotch! What the fuck! You scared the shit out of me!”

His eyes were the darkest I’d ever seen them; my normally composed supervisor was shaking with fury.

“Good, then you know how it fucking felt to watch you run into that house today,” he sneered, his body pressing me against my door.

Adrenaline was pumping through my blood, my breath coming in fast pants. Hotch’s body was flush against mine, his eyes wild and his breathing just as fast.

“Is that why you’re here, Aaron?” I taunted.

His eyes flashed at the sound of his first name leaving my mouth. Those large hands that were on me a moment ago had been resting on the door, but he brought his left hand down so quickly. He placed it on my throat, his thumb resting against my jaw.

“You know why I’m here.”

“I know why you’re pretending to be here. Your excuse for being here is that I fucked up today. But that’s not why you’re here.” I lined forward, dropping my voice into a mock whisper. “I can feel why you’re really here, Aaron.”

And I could. I didn’t have to be a profiler to see how blown his pupils were, to see how his eyes kept straying down to my lips. I especially didn’t need to be a profiler to feel what was pressed against my body.

His thumb dropped down to the other side of my throat before it squeezed, cutting off just a bit of my blood flow. His right hand came down from the door to squeeze in between our bodies, going right for the button of my pants. I was stunned when I felt it pop open and the zipper lower right before his fingers ghosted over the skin right above the top of my panties.

“What am I going to find when I slip my hand into your panties, y/n?” His breath skimmed over my face; his lips so close to mine. “Do you expect me to believe your little cunt isn’t positively soaked for me?”

“It’s not,” I bit out, stubborn to the end.

Aaron just smirked at me, his fingers moving inside of my panties, down, down, down, until I felt one blunt finger run across my slit, not even spreading me open.

His nose brushed against mine. “You feel pretty wet to me, princess.”

I felt my core throb at his words, but I couldn’t let him win. “I’m not your fucking princess.”

“No,” he mused. “You’re nothing but a little fucking brat.” He removed his hand from my panties, bringing it around to hook under the back of my thigh. “And since you want to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like a brat.”

That was all the warning I got before his lips crashed against mine, his hand leaving my throat to grab my other thigh. He lifted my feet off the floor, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist.

Aaron Hotchner’s kiss was as intense as every other part of him. He ate at my mouth, biting my bottom lip before running his tongue over it. He ground his hardness against my pussy, smirking against my mouth when I moaned.

“Such a needy fucking girl,” was what he said before he lifted me totally in his arm, stepping away from the door. He walked through the living room.

“First door the left,” I mumbled.

He chuckled while he pushed my bedroom door open. “So, you’re enough of a brat to fight me, but enough of a slut to direct me to your room?”

“Fuck you,” I bit out.

Aaron tossed me on the bed, his hands gripping the waist of both my pants and panties before he yanked them down my legs. He was on top of me a moment later, his hands tearing at my shirt, ripping the buttons off.

“You’re going to regret that.”

A tiny shiver of terror went down my body at his tone, because I believed him.

He yanked the cups of my bra down, his scalding hot mouth wrapping around my nipple at the same time that two of his fingers sunk into me.

"Fuck!" I shouted my back arching, pushing me into him.

I felt his teeth graze over my nipple while his fingers continue to move inside me. His middle and ring finger were pumping into my pussy, the heel of his hand grinding against my clit.

“Aaron,” I whined, my hips squirming. His mouth lifted from my breast, kissing up my chest until he got to my neck.

“What do you want, baby? Do you want me to make you cum?”

I nodded my head frantically, my hips trying to rock against him.

“Why should I let you cum?” His fingers curled inside of me brushing over my g-spot, pulling a loud moan from me.

I felt my orgasm rushing towards me, threatening to consume me right when his fingers pulled out of me.

“Oh my god,” I whined out, my hand moving down to try and rub my clit. I was right there.

His hand was like a vice on my wrist, stilling my movements. “Ah-ah, no. Bratty little girls don’t get to cum.”

“But I’m so close,” I pleaded, my voice a pathetic whimper.

His lips brushed against mine, softly, teasing. “If you want me to let you cum, then you need to prove you can be a good girl.”

Hearing Aaron Hotchner say the words “good girl” was almost enough to send me over the edge.

“Can you be a good girl, y/n?”

“Yes,” I answered, trying to press my lips more firmly against his.

Without warning his hand moved quickly, slapping against my pussy.

“Fuck!” I shrieked, unprepared for the sensation but so desperate for more.

“Yes, what?”

"Yes sir!" I corrected tears of frustration in my eyes.

He moved off of me then, unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders. “Finish taking your clothes off,” he instructed.

I moved to comply quickly, wincing slightly when I pulled my arm out of my sleeve. My bicep was wrapped in thick gauze, the skin around it looking bruised.

Aaron watched me while he took his pants off. “It’s so hard for me to look at you. Because I see you hurting like that and all I want to do is lay you on this bed and treat you like a princess.” He was naked now, and I tried not to stare at him. I’d seen him in workout clothes, I knew he was well muscled. But I did not know he was so toned and well defined.

His cock was hard, the head wet with precum, and it was bigger than I had expected.

I scooted up the bed when he climbed on, stalking towards me. “I just want to eat your pretty pussy until you cum all over me. Then I want to slide inside you and make you feel so good.”

Aaron’s body was over mine, his arms caging me in. “But I can’t do any of that can I?”

He moved away before I could answer. “No, I can’t. So, you’re going to prove to me that you can follow orders. I’m going to lay on this bed, and you’re going to put that bratty little mouth all over my cock. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I said, scrambling to my knees.

“Such a needy little thing,” he repeated, lying on his back.

One hand braced on the bed, the other reached out to wrap around him. If things were different, I would have teased him, but this fucking need in my body was burning too hot.

I wrapped my lips around the tip of his dick, hollowing out my cheeks, relishing in the guttural moan he let out. I slowly started to bob my head, taking more of him each time I went back down.

“I should have known you’d be good at this,” Aaron groaned out, one hand coming up to grip my hair, guiding my motions. “That smart fucking mouth of yours. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

I moaned against him, rubbing my thighs together at his words.

“You’ve thought about that too, haven’t you dirty girl?” He was lifting his hips now, making shallow thrust into my mouth. “Come on, baby. Take it all the way down. I know you can do it.”

I tried to relax my throat, fighting my gag reflex as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “Come on, sweet girl. Try for me. Be my good girl so I can finally fuck that wet fucking pussy of yours.”

His words spurred me on, I squeezed my thumb in my fist, moving my head all the way down. I felt him hit the back of my throat; I started to gag, but I swallowed reflexively around him.

“Oh, my fucking god,” he groaned, pumping into my mouth a few more times before pulling me off of him. “There’s my good girl,” he praised, pulling my face up to his. Aaron pressed kisses to the sides of my mouth before his lips slid against mine.

He moved quickly, rolling me onto my back, shoving my thighs apart so he could settle between them. One of my hands fisted in my bedsheets, the other braced on his arm. My eyes were fixed on where our bodies were about to join. Aaron gripped his cock, moving it up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” he murmured, urging my legs higher up his abdomen.

I groaned when I felt the head of his cock slip inside me.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight, y/n.”

“Aaron,” I whined, shifting my hips underneath him. I was still so close.

“I’ve got you, needy girl.” He shifted his weight and then slammed inside of me, pulling a scream from my throat.

It didn’t hurt, just the opposite. I had never felt so fucking overwhelmed before.

“Please, please, please,” I pleaded.

One of his hands wrapped around my throat while the other gripped my headboard. He started a brutal pace while his hand squeezed against me. “Reach down and rub your clit, Princess,” he ordered his hips slapping against mine. “Come on. Make your pretty pussy cum all over me.”

He wasn’t even finished speaking before my fingers found my clit, circling it furiously. His grip on my throat loosened slightly, his thrusts becoming a bit sharper.

“I want to hear you fucking scream my name, you bratty little thing.”

“Aaron, Aaron, don’t stop. Please!”

With one more hard thrust, my orgasm crested, tearing through my body. I felt my pussy clamp down on his cock, pulling him over the edge too. He pumped inside of me a few more times, pulling every ounce of pleasure he could from me.

I finally came down from my high only to feel Aaron drop on top of me for a moment before he promptly rolled onto his side, so as not to crush me.

His arm wrapped around me, bringing me flush against his side, my head on his chest.

“I’m still mad at you,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

“I’m a little less mad now.”

I smiled. “I figured.”

Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01

@spncersreid

#Criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds smut #Aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotchner imagine #Aaron Hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner x y/n #Hotch x reader #Hotch x y/n #Hotch x you #Aaron Hotchner smut #Hotch smut #SSA Aaron hotchner

532 notes · View notes

ac3id · 4 years

Text

Impius

pairings: yandere!demon!namjoon x student!reader

summary: you are a rebel in your school. your teachers, parents, and even friends are fed up of you tactics. but your mysterious English teacher has taken an unusual interest you and promises to you show you a new world. a world better than the one you live in. how can you say no?

warnings: gender neutral reader, oral sex(m receiving),reader is also a virgin, age-gap kinda cus like namjoon is a demon whos 83756834758 years old n reader is a senior in highschool lmaooo

word count: 2.7k

masterlist

Like any other demon, Kim Namjoon needed to feed on human souls to exist. He hit the jackpot when he started as a teacher in Borealis Convent private boarding school. An endless supply of pure, untainted souls awaited him.

In a school that taught faith and hope, a demon lurked and controlled it from its shadow. He charmed everyone he met, his attractiveness added to his strengths, he was invincible. He had everyone in the school bent to his will, he was the ruler and no one questioned him.

Students often went missing which caused worries among school but as the principal magnificently covered up the disappearance, no one ever asked. The principal was a greedy pig. He had formed a contract with Namjoon- money exchange of his soul--How ironic.

They all blindly followed him not knowing he is the vicious monster they feared so much.

He lived peacefully- everything he needed was presented to him, he had no fear of losing anything. Everything fit perfectly under his fist and honestly, it bored him. But just then, you came along.

You were different from the others and, you knew it. Even though you knew that your parents and peers despised you for you being yourself, living life the way you wanted, you never gave into their greedy demands. You chose to stay true to yourself, fighting for your way, refusing to turn into another mindless robot who lived to satisfy the monstrous society. You felt bad for the others who could not see the world in your perspective- you, really did but the others didn't even try to give sympathy to you, they labeled you as a disgrace, a disappointment, anything vile so it could break your spirit and turn you into a follower whose only purpose is to serve money-hungry demons.

That was the reason he took a liking you. You shined like a diamond. No matter how hard they pushed you into the ground you never broke. You always got right back up, walking past the others- you were amazing. He couldn't wait to devour your soul.

Your soul was pure, unstained with the hunger of ambition he thought you would be his best meal but soon that hunger grew into something darker. Soon, he found himself obsessed with you- he wanted you all to himself, away from the rest of the world where no one could hurt you.

You and Namjoon grew close, he understood you like no one else. He was kind, gentle, caring, and oh so hot. You often found yourself thinking about him before you drifted off to sleep and it didn't take long for you to realize you were harboring a crush on your English teacher.The thought of Namjoon dominating you tantalizing and appealing in all the ways it made your insides twist with pleasure.

The thought that he would never be yours often sent you into a frenzy, some so many people suited him better than you did and it drove you mad. You wanted to be with him but you knew it would never be possible. So, you concealed your feelings deep in your heart for no one else other than yourself to bear with the pain of one-sided love.

You sat on the concrete floor skipping through the pages of your novel humming to yourself. Absorbed in the world of fiction, you did not hear the swift angry clicking of heels behind you until you felt your book being grabbed out of your hands by force.

You turned around to see who had interrupted you from your peaceful endeavor. Turning around, you immediately regretted it. Looking down at you was Mrs.Lee, her face scrunched as radiated murderous rage. She pulled you up from your elbow steadying you straight as she glared at you,

"What are you doing here, L/N?" she snarled at you her teeth clenched and arms crossed. You internally rolled your eyes, "I was reading a book." sarcasm settled heavily on your tongue as you mocked her and it drove even madder.

"During my class?"

"Yes."

There was silence followed by Mrs.Lee skimming through the pages if your novel. "This book is banned from the campus, how did you get it?" she asked with repressed anger in her voice, you shrugged your shoulders and answered, " I don't know" Mrs.Lee pulled your hand and started dragging you towards the exit, she murmured how it was 'over for you' but as both of you were about to exit a familiar face appeared in front of you.

"Mrs.Lee," Namjoon greeted, you sighed internally feeling relieved since you knew he would save you from three months of detention.

"Mr.Kim! How nice to see you and would you look at this, L/N is skipping classes again." She pushed you in front of him, you looked down at the floor avoiding eye contact with the tall man as you tried not to burst in a fit of laughter. Namjoon smirked at the down at you as he saw you struggle. He sighed and turned back to Mrs.Lee, with faux disappointment in his eyes he spoke, "I see, L/N is troubling you again. They are indeed the problem child aren't they?"

"They are always skipping class and causing trouble and look at what they were reading here!" She handed the scandalous novel to him. He looked over the hard copy, immediately recognizing the genre.

"Erotica on school grounds? Seriously L/N?" He questioned, his voice sent shivers down your spine as he spoke with a grimace in his tone.

You don't look up from the floor as you feel his gaze linger on you. The urge to laugh which floated your mind minutes ago dies down when you recognize his disappointment in you.

"Mrs.Lee, please don't waste your time on them. You head back to your class, I'll deal with L/N."

Mrs.Lee hesitates for a second but obliges when she feels Namjoon's demonic stare burn her soul. She leaves you alone with Namjoon and takes her exit.

You still look down on the floor, unable to look up at the dark-haired man in front of you.

"Y/N," he starts. A hand comes down on your shoulder and you finally look up at. He's smirking down at you, the book next to his face, "Do you, actually understand this book?" He asks. You feel your face flush at his implications as you stare off into the distance, "Yes, I do." you answer sheepishly.

You hear him laugh, his finger falls beneath your chin as he pulls your face up forcing you to look at him. "Are you a virgin, Y/N?" He asks his eyes staring deep into your soul, searching for something. You flush harder, your mouth agape, you blurt out a response, "That's inappropriate!!" Namjoon's smirk returns slowly casting into a sinister grin.

"What's inappropriate, Y/N? I simply asked you a question."

The longer you stared into his beautiful brown eyes, the more you felt yourself get riled up.

"So will you answer my question?" He asks- no demands.

"Yes." You meekly whisper. "Follow me."

You feel your heart hammer against your chest as he leads you to his office. He sits you down on the sofa while taking a seat opposite to you.

"Where did you find this book, Y/N," He begins, he sits with his leg spread as he leans forward moving closer to you his elbows rests on his knees. The book was placed on the small coffee table between the two sofas.

"My senior lend it to me," you look down at the book to avoid meeting at Namjoon's gaze. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your spine, it was dangerous and alluring.

"I see. Tell me, Y/N, when you read this book who do you think of?"

"W-What?" you shutter, you feel the room get hotter as it became harder to breathe, Namjoon sat in front of you his brow quirked he repeated the question. "When you read this book, who do you think of? There must be someone you want to do these things with?" His voice is like silk, you could just listen to him speak for hours on end.

"I don't- why are you asking me this!?" You squeal your face flushed red you recall all the nights you had spent awake thinking about the contexts of the book but instead of the main characters- it was you and him.

"Hey c'mon, why are you getting so angsty? If you tell me you want, I'll tell you who I want." Namjoon shifts in his seat, he leans back on the sofa his arms crossed over his chest. The smirk still played on his lips and the look in his eyes was coy. You clear your throat and answer,

"Jimin, I like him." You lie.

You did like Jimin but, it was nowhere close to how you felt about Namjoon.

your hands fidget , and He observes with a raised eyebrow.

"Jimin?" He questions, he is aware that you're lying but he decides to play along.

His eyebrows knit together and he sighs, "Well that's a shame. You want to know who I want?" you nod.

"You."

His lips curl as he looks down at you. Your eyes are wide open as you try to process his words. You try to come ready with a response but he beats you to it. "You know you're a bad liar? I know you want me too. Come here."

"Sir,- We're not supposed to," you being but he simply smirks, arms crossed on his chest. "Well, who's going to stop us?"

holding your hips down to keep you positioned securely on his lap

your body jolts against his, a pleased smile spreads across his face, his breath fanned across your neck as he pulled you closer.

"Sir, I-.." you begin, but your voice betraying you and leaving you speechless as his lips continue to trail over your neck, kissing along your jawline and to your chest and collarbones, placing wet kisses on every inch. Your head automatically tilt backs, your body reacting to his sinful touch and allowing him better access. His lips were so warm, You melted into his touch and felt your heart start to beat faster. A soft moan escapes your lips, his ministrations making you slightly dizzy and lightheaded.

"Tell me Y/N, what do you want?" the words almost tickle against your skin, a mix of fear and excitement dances in your eyes, your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. He can't help the small dimpled smile tugging on the corners of his lips. His lips move to the crook of your neck, the eagerness growing as his lips suck and nibble on your skin to leave a mark behind, letting his tongue lick the sore areas afterward.

You let your hands run along his chest, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his chest. His shirt clings to his skin, grabbing around it, and while pulling his shirt over his head, your palms pressed against his broad pectorals, completely lost in the curves of his body.

You felt dirty, but you'd be lying if you didn't crave more.

His hot breaths blew across your neck, making him shiver, his presence clouding your senses. Your lips hovering over his.

"Sir, please kiss me," you whine. He looks down at you which his hand strokes your thigh. "Sir? It's Namjoon baby. Ask again." His hot breath falls on your lips and you beg again.

"Please, Namjoon, kiss me."

He complies and crashes his lips onto yours when you feel his warm lips on yours, your entire mind fogs up. Everything's a blur as you move your lips against each other, his hand slides slowly along your thigh and tracing the patterns of your leggings with his fingers.

The kiss is intimate and rough, filled with passion. Your lips parted as his tongue slipped into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your body melting against him as his tongue tempted and teased yours, dominating your mouth. Your hands move to his hair, tugging at his hair making him moan into your mouth.

His hands rest on either side of your hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on them, you could feel him growing hard under you, the feeling of his hardening bulge poking you was overwhelming. You held onto his shoulders and ground yourself against him, your hips moving against his. He was grinding with you at the same pace, lips still on yours as he let out low groans of satisfaction

he pulls away from you, your lips chasing after his.

"I want you on your knees, baby." He demands. Smirking down at you as you get down on your knees. He runs his tongue over his teeth, unzipping his pants and pushing them down to free his cock.

his dick lays against his stomach. He strokes himself, eyes boring into you as you crouch below him, eyes fixated on his length marveling at the sight

"I'll show you a new world, Y/N. Come here" he orders, motioning toward his bulge. "(c’mon baby, shoe me wat doze handz do lmao )"

Riding on the confidence from before, you reached out and gently gripped him at the base, pressing your thumb along the vein on the underside and relishing in the noises it draws out. You angle your wrist slightly so you can continue stroking the spot, while mentally making a note to yourself to remember it for future reference. You feet his hand in your hair, stroking, gripping ever so carefully.

His hand moved to cover yours, and he assists you in stroking your hand steadily pumping along his length.

"Like this, start slow." Your eyes widen in fascination, finding it impossible to form proper words, mouth watering the sight in front of you. Eyes trailing at the pre-cum leaking from the tip and licking it eagerly. Namjoon's strangled moan was all the encouragement you needed. You run your mouth around his dick while gazing up at his face-

"Fuck," swears escapes his plum lips, sending shivers down your spine. Gently letting go of your wrists as his eyes flutter close.

Namjoon's chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you as your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking up from the base towards the tip getting his dick wet. You take him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him, tongue lapping around whatever it could reach. He starts thrusting forward, right down your throat, You immediately start to gag and place your hands on thighs to keep you steady. A thin glistening layer of sweat forms against his forehead. His breath was heavy and ragged, his chest huffing

you moaned around his cock, jaw aching, knees in agonizing pain, his hand gripping harder at your hair. "Fuck yeah baby, your mouth feels so fucking good," he pants.

You take him further and further into your mouth, his groans get louder and more frequent. Your grip tightens around his strong thigh, nails digging into his muscle enjoying watching the pleasure wash over his face.

"Fuck," Namjoon growls through gritted teeth, and rolls his hips up into your throat, thrusting his hips with horny, reckless abandon.— which makes his thigh muscles tense.

Namjoon pulls out deliberately. His heavy pants accompanied a silent cry as he cums hard onto your face, stifled breaths cut short with a deep moan calling out your name. Gripping your jaw still in one strong hand his cock twitching before thick strings of cum spurting out and splashing across your face. Dripping over your swollen lips and dribbling down your neck, decorating the blossoming bruises painted on the expanse of your chest.

"you look so fucking sexy with my cum on your face, baby,"

"Such a dirty little rebel," He says in a breathy voice that sent shivers down your spine.

you fell back on your heels, feeling exhausted. You went to wipe your face, but he stopped you. Namjoon dragged his thumb through the mess on your cheek, collecting his release and bringing it to your lips, you eagerly sucked and swallowed at the cum-slicked fingers, moaning for more.

"You want more? Such a greedy little thing," He teases,

your quivering hand reaches out to gently push a strand of damp hair away from his forehead. His half-lidded eyes study your entire face before slowly dipping down to connect his lips with yours in a kiss.

Namjoon kisses your lips a little softer this time. You sighed into the kiss, relaxing a bit. His thumb drew small circles against your cheek as a way of comforting you and telling you that you've done a good job.

bonus-

[a/n: listening to blood,sweat and tears and house of cards while writig do be hittin different]

let us know if u want more bangtan content here

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thesolitarystripe · 3 years

Text

Tindyl’s Departure

There was a a really rocky start of Shadowlands for Tindyl and I. We left the guild that we created for an assortment of reasons that I won’t get into but, this entry was something I wrote to both vent my feelings and to document Tindyl’s journey. All of these posts are out of order, I know. Someday, all these tidbits will add up to a big beautiful story that flows really well. Today is not that day. As always, I do not own any rights to Blizzard Entertainment’s world, characters or original stories. I do however, claim rights to Tindyl, all related side characters and her story.

An oddly unwelcoming breeze sifted through the wide corridors of Oribos on this day; the day Archdruid Tindyl found herself sitting alone within the Ring of Transference. This new city with its tall steepled ceilings, high arching pillars, and cold stone floors never held the same homey feeling Boralus had come to bear but especially now, it felt empty, frigid. Tindyl had rested her back against one of the solid walls, knees drawn up toward her chest as heroes and champions bustled by, eager to trade with the nearest dealer. She had stopped briefly with the local alchemist and busied herself with dealings there, but it hardly held her interest once she acquired her vials. Those small crystalline containers rested in the warm palms of her hands, icy against her purple skin. What was their purpose now anyway? Dark eyes glanced downward, Tindyl’s chin dipping after them until her silver hair fell over her brow. Why had she bought so many if—

“There she is my little sapling.”

Tindyl’s brows knitted together at the unwelcomed intimacy with which she was being addressed but her head snapped upward in hearing the tone that dripped with familiarity; so much so, that her heart skipped in her chest. Deep blue, nearly black, met those chestnut eyes she had left back near the seas that soaked Boralus.

“How!” The night elf shot upright, her vials clinking against the ground as they fell from her hands. Before she could say anymore, two large arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her down and into the warm chest of the human she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. While public displays of affection were not customary in her home, it had been so long since she had been held so tenderly, she felt the staunch composure of her people melt away with eagerness. Tindyl’s arms clasped around the warrior, fingers clenching at his tunic as he pulled her against his chest. Tears bit at the corners of her eyes, but her fangs struck harder at her lower lip, fighting to keep them at bay. “Dalah,” she breathed into his chest.

“What’s a pretty moon child like you doing sitting here all alone on the floor?” He whispered into the tendrils of her hair, lips tickling the hard ridge of her ear. Their embrace didn’t loosen. The energy between them simmered violently, a desperate need to keep the physical contact emanating from the archdruid who, despite her height, practically hung against the human male’s body. “Come, I feel we have much to talk about.” His lips found the crown of her head, pressing a single kiss there before he took her by the arms and reluctantly pushed her from him. Their eyes met and lingered, as if they were two souls meeting again in the afterlife.

The warrior took one of Tindyl’s hands and placed it upon his bicep—escorting her out of the main hub and outside where the clouds swirled pleasantly and the wind constantly blew. They walked around the outer path of the ring until a quiet place, undisturbed by others, was found. The two of them sat near the edge and let their feet dangle downward into the ethers.

“I know you didn’t miss me that much,” he finally broke the silence, leaning over from where he sat to wipe a rebellious tear from Tindyl’s cheek. “What has you so distraught my love? Why are you hunkered down in Oribos all alone? I half expected to see you and Kagurah haggling with the vendors over the price of your precious herbs.”

“You have a lot of questions for a man that said he wasn’t ready for the next mission.” Tindyl clasped her hands together in her lap, looking sternly at her lover who questioned her so adamantly.

“I know,” he chuckled in that way men do when they know they’ve got explaining to do. “I wasn’t ready Tindyl. After all we had seen, the fight with N’Zoth—” His words trailed off as his mind wandered to those darker times. “It was true that I wasn’t ready to embark on this quest so quickly but, I suppose you could say that being away from you drove me madder than those insidious whispers still plaguing my mind.” He flashed one of those charming smiles that he knew had a strong chance of getting him out of trouble. Tindyl rolled her eyes, outwardly miffed still but reached across the distance between them and grabbed her lover’s hand.

“Still fluent in your tawdry flirtations,” she mused firmly, a smile threatening to show itself.

“Cheesy as ever but, you’ve learned to love it,” he winked at her, fingers giving hers a few small squeezes.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said finally, her voice tight as that persistent lump found its way into her throat again.

“What’s going on?”

“Where do I even begin…” Tindyl looked out into the horizon, watching as the pinks and blues of the sky mingled and shaded it a soft purple hue.

“Start from the moment I last saw you,” he cooed, leaning back onto his elbow and pressing her hand into the middle of his chest. And so she told the story of her travel to Oribos—of her journey through the Shadowlands and entreating all the Covenants. The warrior interrupted her, “Ah yes, let me guess, you sided with the Night Fae, I knew it the moment I landed there.” Tindyl pushed him in the chest, glaring at him but smiling just the same.

“Did you want to hear the story or not, Beans.”

“Always,” he pried her hand from his chest and kissed the tips of her fingers.

When her tale was finished—she had recounted all she had done for the Night Fae and people of Ardenweald. There was no easy way to discuss the more personal goings on and she faltered many times to continue. Sensing her hesitance, the warrior kneaded the back of Tindyl’s hand with his thumb, looking up at her and providing an encouraging smile.

“I left the guild.”

“What?” Beans sat upright quickly, “but you love—”

“I had to leave.” It was here her stony countenance failed her. She wept freely, silently as he held her hand. “I couldn’t manage anymore, Beans.” Tindyl looked to her lover for the reassurance that she had made the right choice. She had spent most of her time since coming to the Shadowlands doubting herself and her ability to lead.

“What do you mean? You’re a wonderful leader, strong, firm, resilient—”

“I am certainly none of those things, even you said yourself, I’m but a sapling.”

Silence fell between them. Tindyl’s gaze rested still on the clouds that ebbed and flowed, twisting around each other and nuzzling into the full pillowy edges of one another. Beans released the night elf’s hand and took up her chin instead; he turned her eyes toward his and regarded her sharply.

“Young as you may be for your kind, you are more powerful than you know. I have served in the Alliance forces for many years, more than I care to recount, and never—of all the generals I’ve seen, have I seen troops rally behind someone like they do around you.”

A sharp breath burst forth from Tindyl, her sorrow desperate to be set free. The gust brought a harsh sob out from her lungs as she pressed her chin down into Beans’ hand until his palm slid up to hold her cheek. Her shoulders shook with the weight of her cries that feel from her with ease as her lover’s comforting presence allowed her the space to feel. She no longer had to uphold the unbothered façade of the guild leader any longer.

“Oh, my little moon beam.” The warrior pushed himself back from the edge of the ring, grabbed the back of Tindyl’s neck and pulled her toward him until his other arm could wrap around her torso and bring her into his body. Despite their size difference, their bodies fit together with ease, his legs set wide so that Tindyl could lay between them with her head cradled in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he sighed regretfully. “I should have been.” Tindyl’s soft cries were all that echoed around them now, the wind lifting them high into the air and carrying their burden away from her. Beans held his beloved until her body stilled and her breath evened; his fingers played in her hair, stroking the length of it and admiring the leaves that adorned her head. As far as they were from Azeroth, she still smelled of the forest, earthy and clean. Beans hugged her tightly and breathed in her scent before letting a long breath flow from his lungs.

“What now,” she finally whispered, voice raspy from her tears.

Beans looked out at the horizon, his hand cradling Tindyl’s head while his other arm held her in close.

“We do what we’ve always done,” he tilted the night elf’s head back so that he might capture her gaze once more. “We save the world together, just us—if that’s how you wish it to be.” Beans kissed her forehead, lingering for several moments before releasing her. “We conquer the Shadowlands together and I’ll work on my personal side mission.”

“Side mission?” Tindyl sat up, drying her eyes with the edge of her tabard, still displaying Teldrassil in all its ivory glory.

“To make sure you realize your worth and how important you are to this realm. You may think your guild doesn’t need you—but many others do, including me.”

Tindyl looked upon the face of her lover incredulously. Sometimes it baffled her that he was a human when in so many ways he seemed much farther along in maturity than she. How was it that she had such tremendous luck that day they bumped into one another in Boralus. Beans stared at her then, smiling in that inviting way that always managed to draw her in, even when she wanted to be cross with him.

“I love you,” he cooed sweetly. He was so endearingly human with how frequently and openly he was able to express his natural feelings.

“Kene’thil surfas, my beloved.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk Darnassian to me!” Beans leaned in and peppered Tindyl’s face and neck with kisses, leaving the night elf shrieking in delight as she pushed him away.

“Stop it! You’re such a child,” she huffed playfully.

“I mean you’re the one who is technically, what, in her twenties by human standards?”

“I’m 305 years old! You’d better watch your tongue, young babe.”

The two dissolved into laughter, quieting only when a resident of Oribos happened to walk by. They then fell into easy chatter about their future, denying then the moment to linger on heavier topics; while their time discussing guild matters was far from over, it was clear the young Kaldorei needed the reprieve in the safety of someone she loved and the warrior was more than happy to allow her that time.

#World of Warcraft #creative writing #writing #wow oc #OC #writing prompt #Author

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hungryflowers · 3 years

Text

Sensing Lamentation

Title: Sensing Lamentation

Rating: General Audience

Fandom/Continuity: Balan Wonderworld

Character Relationship(s): Leo Craig/Balan

Character(s): Leo, Balan, Past Character (Unnamed), Lance (Only Mentioned)

A/N: I’ve been in a funk for quite awhile, so I decided to do this to hopefully make me feel better. 2020 was a rough year and these last few days have torn out my soul. I want to write this as a small means of healing myself. Also, I’m a slight out of practice with my writing craft, so if any errors, I apologize.

Other: This isn’t a ship! Regardless of what the ‘Character Relationship’ part says, keep in mind that Leo is fifteen years old and Balan is potentially eldritch aged. He’s seen all sides of humanity, so he gets it. He’s not attracted to the boy, nor will I write him to be. Just putting that out there before y’all get to thinking that he a ‘cradle robber’ who lures in heartbroken kids.

He was more than content with sitting in the whist, luminescent room. Parchment on one end, tar-like ink on the other, the Maestro had made a day for himself to just... create. A tune swirled in his mind, the musings of the melody playing on repeat as he etched time out of his day to put it to paper. The endeavor was not a failed one, yet it hardly yielded the desired results. Feather to temple, Balan stretched his elongated back. Sunlight had eluded him in the short time he sat. Eyes glanced for the nearest time telling device in the room; eight forty-five. He had been at the same table, staying finicky over the same paper for the same tune for nearly four hours. Not a new reaction, yet he was normally more productive. Sighing, he adjusted his wide-brimmed top hat as he moved around to restock, stock, or keep tabs on anything necessary for anymore acts.

The little tims peeped and scuttle along, following the maestro as if he’d been a pied piper. Playful eyes shimmered with glee as he picked up the few that straddled his lanky legs. Placing them on a crate, he kept at his inventory. They still peeped and chimed, more frequent and annoyed.

“None of that...” A quiescent quip from the maestro had them calmed. It seemed that have to find another opportunity to have Balan’s attention.

In the after math of busying himself with caring for little things, the maestro had failed to notice, or hear the subtle steps of a child passing by. The shock of hearing another breathing individual was enough to make him pause. Standing to his full height Balan went around looking for the soul whom had trespassed without him acknowledgement. He was quite forthcoming with introductions or having someone speaking to him before departing. It was in good manner to appear respectful to those around you.

The steps he had neglected to hear before ventured up the stairs to the next floor. Which was quite odd, as only guests that Balan himself invited, or staff that convened there, were allowed upstairs. He had to rectify this immediately. Snooping was not tolerated under the maestro’s gaze. He kept his eyes on a sleeping chamber that was lit behind the sturdy mahogany door as he crept up the spiral staircase. On a normal day, he’d just float up and push open the door, however he still had enough respect to announce his presence before coming in.

Standing in front of the door, his hand went to jiggle the handle, only to stop at the softest sounds of what he knew as sorrow. Eyes widened, his hand came off the knob as if he had been burned by it. There was a little one... softly sobbing in the chambers. He fought against an unusual impulse to shove himself inside, yet the longer he listened, the harder it became to ignore. He reminded himself to adhere to the rules and guidelines he had made for himself and Lance: do not interfere unless the justification is absolute. For some unspoken reason he felt the need to disregard his rule this only time. And with that impactful instinct hammering into him, he gave in.

He knocked loud enough for the little soul to hear yet did not speak, waiting for someone to answer or reply. There was one solid minute without noise, the little one seeming to buck up after hearing the knock. When Balan knocked again, he earned a response, “Who is it? What do you want?”

Balan recognized the young man’s voice instantly. A shadow of sadness glazing his stare as he leant on the door a bit. What was making Leo so upset? Who could have caused such an unrest in the boy’s spirit?

“Leo... It’s Balan. May I come in?” He slid to his knees, in case the boy would open for him. After a moment, the heavy door slowly crept open, for Balan to view the young visitor’s face; that now appears wet from tears.

Instead of asking too many questions, Balan just slid a bit closer to Leo, arms stretched enough to reach but not touch. A simple gesture to show he’d be there for him.

Leo glanced at the gesture, measuring it to see what he’d want to do. His shoeless feet pawed the hardwood as he contemplated what he would do. He thought it would be best for the maestro to disregard the idea of comforting him. He’d remain a soldier fighting a battle on his own. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want that. And that juggle of care and carelessness caused more tears to well in his eyes before he opened his mouth. He barely caught a sniffle before he felt his feet leaving the floor. Blue eyes scanned his surroundings before he gauged that he was in Balan’s arms, embrace pulling him softly to his chest. Agony gripped the young boy as he sobbed into the maestro’s shoulder, tiny hands gripping him as if he’d disappear.

Balan remained on his knees as the boy broke down, sun-yellow eyes closing as he allowed him the ability to let go. To let it hurt... if only for a while. The boy continued to sob as he motioned to stand, going into the chambers as his hands patted Leo’s back, slowing going into his hair to bring him closer. That hymn, the song Balan could not put to sheet, or find the right words to, came back. Only this time, the humming bled into words,

“When there is light, a shadow appears the cause and effect, when life interferes the same rule applies to goodness and grief; for in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means,”

His little visitor opened his eyes in an attempt to look at Balan as he sang aloud. While he could see his smile, the wide brim of his hat obscured the rest of his face. He wanted to look at the maestro fully as he hummed the rest of the tune, rocking and hugging him as a mother would do for a babe.

The maestro himself continued to hum the melody while pressing in as close as allowed. Softening his grip, he brought the little one to look at him. And became overwhelmed with the glowing vision of the boy staring back at him. Trusting him in this way. Words were not required to be exchanged while the maestro strode slowly to the large bed to lay him down. While Leo calmed down, Balan brought a chair over to sit near the bed’s end.

“Leo, what troubles you little one? You can tell me. This place,” he moved his arms around the chambers, “is completely safe. Nothing leaves here. Your sacred words are for my ears only. Words that I will keep close to me. I promise.” He placed his immense hand on Leo’s shoulder as the boy relaxed into it. Taking a breath, he soothed over his raked nerves while he thought of the right thing to say. His chest appeared tighter than normal, fingers lacing together and fidgeting. In spite of his bravery to show his emotions to Balan, he still felt like a wounded, stubborn soldier; unable to admit that his wounds were draining him. His eyes strewn about the room instead of interacting with the tall, lanky figure.

Balan did nothing to prompt the boy to say anything quickly. No means to force him to confess to what was ailing him in this way without volition. So he waited. Patient and understanding. He’d talk when it is time. He watched him take a few short breaths then they locked eyes once more. The fragility was nearly enough to break the maestro’s heart.

“I...I was just really upset about someone I used to know. We were real close. I loved them... they were like a sibling to me,” Leo sniffled as he pulled his hair back, “But then I said something wrong... and so did they. And then we never saw each other again. I didn’t... mean what I said, but I-I was just so-”

“Angry,” Balan stated, “You lashed out at them and now you’re feeling extreme guilt for it.”

“I guess I’m madder at myself because I left without giving them a reason, but what could I say?,” The young teen looked at the bed sheets as he rubbed his nose, “Have you ever been in my situation before?” Leo inquired after a second of thought.

Balan blinked rapidly, the small smile he kept fading in surprise. It was an emboldened inquiry. Aureate eyes slid closed, reminiscing to the time he and Lance fell out. Harshly. Only, it was not Balan who attacked with scathing words. Nothing more could be said between as the maestro departed from the other with bolide of tears streaking the cosmos in his wake. Lance never created the courage to apologize for those words, no matter how many times Balan imagined that he would. It came as an acceptance of bad pride on both ends that kept the healing away from the two of them. Even if Balan was no longer in need of the healing. The words were said, there could be nothing in Wonderworld or in the actual world to change that.

“Yes... but it was at a time I no longer remember.” Balan did not meet Leo’s eyes this time. His words were satisfying enough for Leo but he knew there was more to the story.

“All I want to do is say sorry. But it’s too late.” The young boy put his head in his hands, a miserable whimper coming forth.

��Maybe... maybe not. Leo, I may not be able to give the proper answer about how you can ask for your friend’s forgiveness. However, I do know how you can forgive yourself. And that is to accept that friends can genuinely drift apart. Something in the relationship fissures and causes both of you to turn away from each other. You can accept the blame, Leo. That’s okay. But you shouldn’t be hurting yourself with that blame.” Balan’s gloved hand pressed to Leo’s cheek, making the teen look at him. The way that Balan smiled made Leo’s lip curl in sweet smile as well.

“Thank you... so much. I really needed to hear that. I just felt like it was all my fault.” He pressed himself into the gloved hand, warmth radiating off the limb.

“You’re most welcome, little one. And know that I’m here for you. With any insecurity, I’ll help you in the best way I can,” His head pressed to Leo’s, well not quite. The large hat obscuring leant on the boy’s forehead, which felt annoying for the point he was attempting to make. He half sighed and laughed before standing out of the chair.

“One thing. Remember when I said that sacred secrets do not leave this space?”Balan’s tone hinted at something yet Leo couldn’t find what about it, so instead he stiffly nodded, “Okay good. Because I have a very sacred secret to show you. Only you.” He cooed as his hands went to his hat, the article of fabric coming off his face and head with a slow tug. With a shake, jade colored dreads fell free, his gloved hands fluffing them as he pushed a threaded dread away from his forehead.

“There we go,” He stated mutely as he put the hat on a vanity in the corner, moving to sit back down in front of the awestruck child, “Yes I know. I’m so funny looking.” He grinned cheerily before setting his hands atop the bedsheets.

“No you’re not...”, Leo scooted closer to Balan, the maestro still grinning happily as he did, “You look so beautiful.” The teen breathed whimsically, as if entranced by the sight of him.

The grin was pulled off Balan’s face so quick, Leo felt as if he had offended him. Golden eyes flickering like candlelight in the lucent, yet dark room. For a fraction of a second, the world spun. He could see stars on the brim of his vision. After a great upheaval of air from his lungs, Balan came back.

“Beautiful...? No one’s ever called me that before.” He chuckled sheepishly as he smoothed over his dreads.

“But can I call you beautiful?” Leo became a bit shy, the poor boy looked as if he did something wrong.

“If that helps, then yes. You are more than welcome to call me ‘beautiful’, little one.” The maestro bowed in the chair gracefully. He smiled genuinely while he pulled little Leo in for a hug, the teen leaning into him as he pressed into his shoulder. As they parted, Balan found his moment to press his forehead against Leo’s. Their contact was electric, stunning but completely welcomed as Balan breathed him in softly. Leo reciprocated the gesture, his small hands wrapping around the maestro’s neck affectionately. Oceanic, hope-filled orbs blended with the sunset gold ones in perfection. They stayed like such for a while, neither coming up with any words to justify this moment between them had. When they had to pull apart, Balan was the one who leant forward, as if not wanting the contact to come to an end.

He gets up, still holding the teen, to lay him down on the large bed. Leo relaxes in the maestro’s embrace as he buries his face into his neck. Balan didn’t stop the sweet, light-hearted laugh that bubbled forth as he encompasses the boy, swaddling him in the warmth of his body. They exchange a final look before Leo yawns softly. His eyes, previously stricken with tears of grief, now sparkle with ebullience and peace.

The remainder of the night was of Balan holding the little one as if he were the only thing in the world, his world, to think of at that moment. Surrounded by a jubilant contentment, he lain himself bare in front of this particular visitor for the first time in ages. So long as it was with Leo, he’d do it again.

Over and over again.

#balan wonderworld #balan

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Lucky Charm ~ Yoongi X Reader

A/N: I hope you guys are all staying safe and healthy!! Always here if you need to talk and my requests are open since the whole of the UK is kind of under house arrest from now on. I will be doing a lot of writing

Word count: 3,260

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a hospital

Genre: FLUFF and a little bit of angst but mostly fluff

Summart

You were dating the star Baseball player of your home town, Min Yoongi. He was the best of the best, without him the team would lose without a doubt but Yoongi liked to say it was because of you that they won all their matches, you'd been dating since college and had gone to every single match, not missing a single one not even if you had a big fight that day you would still go and support your team but of course Yoongi saw this as you being the only reason they were winning and not because of his baseball talents. "We have a match in three days Yoongi, how's your batting arm?" One of his team mates, Hoseok, asked as he came over to your table at the pub. You'd all gone out to celebrate your acceptance to your dream job and everyone wanted to buy you drinks, you got along with each member of the team each of them being like an older brother to you including Jungkook their youngest who was around the same age as you, he still treated you like a little sister. "He's been resting it, told him he's not allowed to lift anything heavy while I'm moving in." You joked sipping on your own drink as you spoke about moving in with Yoongi, he'd asked you last month to move into his apartment with him and it was finally happening, now you had your own dream job you decided it was time to move out of your house share and move into Yoongi's apartment, both of you spent time picking out colours for the walls and packing up all your stuff. "How's that going by the way?" Namjoon asked sitting down beside you and sipping on his own drink, you nodded at his question. "Really well, we finally have the living room finished and now it's just all my bits that are left to move in...Then we're living together." Jin poked Yoongi in the sides making a joke about how he was no longer a free man but Yoongi wrapped his arm around your shoulder dragging you closer to him and kissing you on the side of the temple. "The only women I love is right here, the only one I need." You poked his side and he laughed, "I'm sure if your mother heard you say that Yoongi you'd get a slap." You joked getting up from the table and walking over to the bar to buy another round of drinks for everyone since they were almost all out, Yoongi followed behind, standing behind you at the bar and grinding against you, you giggled into your hands and turned your head over your shoulder to see him, he peeked your lips. "You're cute." You whispered turning back to the bartender and ordered everyone a drink, using your money to buy it even though Yoongi was trying to use his card. "Just take the drinks back." You laughed pushing him away with the small drinks tray and waiting behind for your change. "Thanks." You said taking it from the barkeeper who then stared at you, you looked behind you and then back to him he was still staring at you. "What?" You questioned looking down at your purse to try and get him to sway his gaze but he was still staring at you, you looked over your shoulder to see if Yoongi could help but he was lost in his own conversation. "Nothing, you're just so damn beautiful. You should wait for me to finish work so I can take you to work." You shook your head, trying to put him down as nicely as possible. "I'm actually dating someone, but thanks." You whispered, leaving the bar and going to sit back down next to Yoongi, you kissed him on the cheek to prove a point and Yoongi chuckled turning his attention away from his conversation and cupping your face in his hands, kissing you and then going back to his conversation. You felt at ease now that the bartender walked away and took his eyes off you, you relaxed against the seat and dove back into the conversation with everyone else.

The barkeeper came over to clear everyone's glasses up while you were getting ready to leave, he looked you up and down and slid you a napkin, you stared at it and he winked at you walking away with all the empty glasses. "Someones got an admirer." Namjoon joked getting everyone's attention, Yoongi stared down at the napkin and then took it, reading it over. "Call me when that douche bag leaves you tonight baby," Then reading out the phone number, his team mates all started wolf-whistling and laughing but you could tell Yoongi didn't find it funny, you were all walking out of the door going to catch a cab home, once all the boys were gone Yoongi took hold of your arm and pulled you back away from the cabs and towards a wall. "What's this?" He was still holding the napkin, you stared at him and then back up to him he was clearly upset over it. "Yoongi he was flirting with me at the bar, I told him I was dating you. You know I would never hurt you." You whispered trying to get onto his good side where you belonged, you didn't do anything wrong he had no reason to be mad at you. "No, he called you baby...So clearly you know him." He seethed at you, you stared him he was red in the face and was shaking slightly, you couldn't decide if it was because it was cold out or not. "It's cold Yoongi, let's go home and talk." You said wanting to go back to your apartment and pretend that it never happened but Yoongi was shaking his head. "No, we'll talk about it here." He barked at you, you nodded not wanting to make him madder than he was. "I have no idea who he is, he flirted with me, I shut him down." He shook his head, pushing the napkin into your chest. "I don't believe you." You stared at him, taking the napkin and throwing it onto the floor so you could prove that it meant nothing to you, something else was clearly bothering Yoongi and it wasn't the fact that some random guy was leaving you his number, it was much different when girls gave him their number at matches or flashed him in the stands when he hit a home run. "You don't trust me?" You questioned feeling hurt at the thought of him not trusting you. "I don't." You nodded slowly biting down on your lip and looking down at the ground, not wanting him to see you cry, you folded your arms across your chest. "If you don't trust me, then why are we even moving in together?" You spat at him, he stayed silent which meant he didn't know why you rubbed your head. "I'll go back to my house share." You said going over to a cab and opening the door, "Wait," Yoongi said trying to get you to stay with him, you stared into the cafe not wanting to look at him, you knew if you looked at him right then you would start crying. "Forget it, you're a fucking asshole." You hissed back at him, getting inside of the car and slamming the door behind you, telling the driver to speed off back to your old address, hoping your old room mate would let you have your room back for the night until Yoongi calmed down.

It had been two days and Yoongi still couldn't get through to you, you were ignoring his calls and whenever he came to the apartment no one would answer the door. He knew the fight was bad but he didn't think it was bad enough for you to ignore him for this long, normally after a fight, you would talk it through the next day or make up that night but you just drove away. He didn't blame you, he was being a huge dick towards you, he was just worried about you moving in with him and being around one another all the time, but he wanted that, he wanted that more than anything else in the world but he was just nervous about it. Now you were gone and ignoring him and he was worried sick that he would never get you back into his life. "It's Yoongi again, call me when you get this...I'm worried about you, I didn't mean what I said, of course, I trust you." The phone beeped, signalling that your voice mail was full which meant you hadn't been listening to any of the messages he'd been leaving for you, he groaned throwing the phone against his bedroom wall and looking at all your unpacked boxes, going over to them to find one of your shirts, he missed you, he missed your scent and all he wanted to do was hug you but you weren't here. "Please come back baby," He whispered to himself laying down in his bed and texting the guys that he wouldn't be coming to practise because he was looking for you. The rest of the boys had been trying to get in contact with you but they just assumed you needed time to cool off after your fight and you would call back or go to Yoongi when you finished being mad at him.

Yoongi stared up into the stands before the match looking for you, remembering no matter how mad you were at him you would show up no matter what but you weren't in your usual spot and he couldn't see you anywhere else, the usual group of girls that came to support him all standing there and watching him, they began looking around knowing he was looking for you but they couldn't see you either, Yoongi sighed turning to look at Jungkook who was trying to ring you but your phone was going right to answer phone but no room to leave a message, Yoongi was starting to get troubled about it, you never missed a match ever, no matter what he did or what you did. You even cancelled work to go and see him usual, he sighed going over to Namjoon and nodding, telling the leader he was ready to start the match.

They lost dramatically and now Yoongi was drunk at your doorstep, banging on the door trying to get you or one of your room mates to come down and answer the door, you couldn't ignore him forever and if it took him sitting there all night and day he would, he wanted you back in his arms, back at the apartment where you could cuddle together and forget about your problems or talk them out, he needed you. "Yoongi?" Your room mate, Serria, asked as she opened the door to see him sitting there, he looked up at her and stumbled to his feet. "Where is she? Is she inside, I have to talk to her." He was slurring on his words but she understood him perfectly, "She's not here, she moved in with you remember..." He stared at your room mate if you weren't at your old place and you weren't at the new place where were you. "Come inside and sober up and I'll find her." He walked into the house share and it was true, nothing that belonged to you was there, no shoes, no coat. Only your old keys were hanging in the kitchen but that was it, Serria slid him a cup of coffee while she dialled your number, groaning as it went right to voice mail. she called up your new job who said you hadn't even shown up for your first day and that they'd been trying to get a hold of you for the last four days. "She's not gone to work, I'll call hospitals to see if anyone has found her." Yoongi was sober now, grabbing his own phone and helping Serria calls hospitals in the area to find you.

"Are you Min Yoongi?" The doctor asked as Yoongi walked through the double doors towards your hospital room, he nodded at the doctor and he pulled him aside walking over to a small office and telling him about why you were in the hospital. "She was bought in as a Jane Doe, we couldn't find any identification apart from a phone, you were the emergency contact but it died before we could get the number." Yoongi nodded urging the doctor to continue to talk, "She was involved in a minor car accident and we placed under a medically induced coma because of the injuries she had to the brain, nothing major she will be fine when she wakes up." The doctor continued to rant on about where they found you and who bought you in before he finally let Yoongi come and see you when he entered the small dimly lit room he sighed looking at you. There were different wires coming from your body, one to monitor your heart rate, another one carrying fluids into your system and an oxygen tube in your nose. "Hey, Yoongi we came as soon as we heard from Serria," Jungkook said as he and Hoseok walked into your hospital room, Yoongi was close to tears but stopped himself when he saw his team mates. "Doctor said she'll be fine, it's a medically induced coma, she'll be awake in about two weeks." They nodded along and Yoongi walked further into the room touching your hands and wanting to just hold you, your hands were ice cold to touch and he knew how much you hated being cold, he wrapped his hands around yours and a nurse came into the room. "Visiting hours are over, you can come again tomorrow at 10 am." All three nodded and agreed to leave, "I'll be back tomorrow for my good luck charm," Yoongi whispered, bending down and kissing your forehead. He was going to go back tomorrow with new clothes, some gloves, a couple of blankets and some bits for when you woke up again, but for now, he had to go home without you. "We have a match tomorrow at 9 am, we can call it off if you want to," Hoseok said as they got down to his car, Yoongi shook his head he knew how much the game meant to his friends plus if you knew he was calling off a game for you, you would be pissed. "No, she'd kill me if she knew I cancelled for her." He said to them, looking out of the window at the hospital as they drove away from you.

"You sure you're okay to do this?" Namjoon questioned as they sat on the benches before the match, Yoongi nodded sipping on the bottle of water he had and looking over at the stands, half expecting you to be sat there with a giant smile across your face but you weren't, and the usual group of girls were gone too, he sighed and got up on his feet. "It's now or never." Everyone cheered and Namjoon got them into a huddle for a team talk before they went on for the match.

"Go Yoongi go!" The group of girls all screamed in unison as he hit a home run for the first time in that match, everyone cheered as the boys ran across their plates and were getting ready to set up for another round, Namjoon swinging first. Yoongi felt a little at ease that he didn't need you at every single match to do good but he felt bad for doing great when you weren't there, the match was almost over though. They had to score one more home run to win or get a triple to tie with the other team to keep them in the run for the final competition.

The game was over and they'd won, he was shocked at first that he'd won without you there, he'd hit the home run they desperately needed, he turned to cheer with his friend and then turned to where you would normally be running towards him but you weren't there, he sighed and then walked over to Namjoon to congratulate him on the game when he heard his name being screamed, "YOONGI!" The same group of girls screamed he turned behind him to see them cheering and holding a banner with something written on the front but he couldn't see it properly, he smiled at them nicely and then faced the front again only to do a double-take when he saw you sitting in the middle of the group of girls with a giant smile on your face, your right arm in a sling and a cast around your left leg, he patted Namjoon on the back to get him to look, to make sure he wasn't seeing things but the leader was taking too long to turn around so Yoongi started sprinting towards the chain link fence and stopped at it when he realised it was you and you were really sitting there. "How did you-When did you-" He couldn't finish any of the questions he wanted to ask you, he kept cutting cut off in his own mind, the group of girls helped you down from the stands and helped you out from behind the fence so you could see Yoongi. "I woke up last night, and the doctor said I could go home today...The girls came by to see me when they heard about me being in the hospital and they brought me here." You said as you stood in front of him, he stared down at the bright pink cast on your leg which was covered in different doodles and names, including his shirt number and name written across the knee of the cast. "You needed your good luck charm, I heard you tanked at the last game." You joked trying to get him to laugh but he just threw his arms around your waist, picking you up and pulling you as close as possible, he didn't want to ever have to let go. "You scared the shit out of me." He mumbled into your neck as he carried you over to the benches, sitting you down and looking down at you, you smiled up at him and he pushed some hair behind your ear. "Don't you ever, do that to me again." You nodded and he bent down to kiss you, your lips brushing against one another until Jungkook came over and ruined the moment by pouring water on top of Yoongi's head, but Yoongi didn't get mad like he normally would have done, he just pulled away from you and stared into your eyes, scared that if he looked away you might vanish again. "I'm not going anywhere...well home I need a shower and a long cuddle with you, but I'm not going anywhere Yoongi." You promised him, looking as he smirked at you, even though you'd just gotten out a medically induced coma and were wearing a cast and sling you still just wanted to go home to your shared apartment and cuddle him. "Our home?" He questioned, just making sure that you did still want to move in with him after he was being such an ass to you. "Yes, Yoongi, our home."

Tagline:

@lovies-kpop-fan-fiction @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl

@lynnthevirgo @yourguessisasgoodasminemate

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nothesc · 4 years

Text

We need to talk. A Damira + Cris fic.

Well, here I am again with my take on the much needed conversation between Dani and Cris after yesterday’s events.

You can also read it on Ao3

Thanks for reading!!!

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Dani throws the sports bad in the hall and takes his shoes off. He knows that if his mom sees him leaving all the things there he’ll be in trouble. But he also knows that his mom is in an afternoon shift so he can rest for a bit and pick up his things later. He enters the living room and sees Cris on the sofa with her laptop. She has her legs stretched not leaving any place for him to sit but that’s not a problem for Dani because in a quick move he sits next to her and places her feet on his lap. His sister immediately moves and flexes her knees to put some distance between them. She sighs but doesn’t say anything. Dani knows that lately Cris hasn’t been in a good mood. He suspects that it has something to do with Joana but he’s waiting for the right moment to say something. He’s waiting for the right moment to say too many things.

“Uff, man, I’m so tired. I don’t know who had the brilliant idea of having practice at 4 pm.” Dani says and, when his sister doesn’t answer he tries to get her attention “Hey, Earth to Cris, are you listening to me?”

Cris only sighs again, not looking up from her laptop.

“Cris, I’m talking to you.”

Suddenly she closes her laptop with such strength that for a second she fears she might’ve broken it but she’s so mad that she doesn’t really care so she leaves it on the table and stands up.

“Oh, so now you want to talk? Wow, well, now I’m the one that doesn’t want to listen, alright?”

Cris didn’t mean to speak, she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, but as always she spoke before thinking so, before Dani can get the chance to say something she picks up the lighter that’s on the table and leaves to go to the rooftop to try to relax.

Dani stays there in the sofa, trying to process what just happened. He’s aware that his sisters is more short-tempered than usually but this is going too far. Suddenly something hits him and he realizes the reason that might be behind her attitude so he takes out his phone from his pocket. He doesn’t have to look for too long to find the chat he’s looking for because since Saturday, they’ve been talking pretty much all the time. For a moment he forgets what happened with Cris and can’t help but smiling when he sees the good morning texts from today. When he comes back to himself he begins to type.

“Ami, have you talked to Cris?”

“Yup”

“And?”

Amira sends a thumbs down emoji and Dani has his theory confirmed.

“Fuck, that’s what I thought”

“She looks so mad”

“She thinks we’re going to overwhelmed each other”

“Hey”

“Don’t fucking listen to her, alright? I’ll talk to her”

“I don’t know if it’ll work…but thanks”

He sends a kissing emoji and puts his phone back in his pocket. He knows the chat with his sister can’t wait any longer. Grabbing the keys so he won’t be left outside, he goes to the only place he can picture Cris went to.

When he arrives to the roof top he finds her smoking and for a moment his mind travels back to last year when, after finding out about Joana, he decided to let her know that she could count on him. That image though is not sweet anymore, now is bittersweet. He just doesn’t understand how after all the times him and Amira have been there for her, his sister is behaving like this.

“Cris, can we talk?”

Again, she doesn’t answer. Dani tries to stay calm, he really doesn’t want to fight with her, but she’s not going easy on him.

“Sis, really, I know you’re mad but let’s talk about it please”

“What? Your girlfriend already told you, right? Wow, you don’t have problems to talk to each other”

She finishes her cigarette. She considers lighting up another one immediately but the last thing she needs right now is Dani seeing how much this is all affecting her.

“Cris, I’m sorry, alright? I’m really sorry, we should’ve told you sooner but…fuck, we’ve been dating for three days and before that we didn’t even know what was going on”

Taking a few steps forward he stands in front of Cris who’s leaning against the wall, her back to the city.

“As if you knew what you’re doing now. Excuse me if I laugh.”

Dani’s patience is reaching its limit with his sister’s behavior. He knows that sometimes with Cris he just needs to be straightforward.

“Look Cris, I understand that you’re surprised, I understand that you’re mad because we didn’t tell you first, but you’re acting like a fucking brat right now”

Cris laughs sarcastically and shakes her head, but she doesn’t say anything, which makes Dani ever madder.

“And, what the fuck did you tell Amira? Something about us overwhelming each other”

“I told her the truth, just that.”

“I see, and what’s the truth according to you?” Dani crosses his arms on his chest willing to listen to everything his sister has to say.

“You love going out at night, you love drinking and smoking, and if you feel the need to hook up with a girl you go ahead and do it. But Amira is not like that, Dani. She’s different and she’s going to ask you to do so much stuff, you’re going to get scared and run away”

Dani shakes his head not really believing what he’s hearing.

“Listen to me, what the fuck do you know about my relationship with Amira? Huh?”

“I know Dani, I know. Because I know you and I know Amira and you’re going to end up so fucked up”

“Great, just fucking great. Really Cris, you get an A in understanding and supporting. Thank you so much”

“What do you want me to support Dani?” Cris pushes herself off the wall and gets closer to her brother. A part of her doesn’t want to have this conversation but another part knows it’s necessary. “You have no fucking idea what you’re getting yourself into with dating Amira”

“Of course I know, fuck, I’m not stupid” Dani puts his hands on his hips, then he crosses his arms again and finally he combs his hair with his fingers not really knowing what to do with himself. “Look, whatever I talked about with Amira is none of your business but just so you know, we’ve talked about this, alright? I know exactly how Amira is, what she wants and what she needs. And, you know what? I’ve accepted it. Fuck, I’ve accepted it because I want to be with her, face everything that comes and fight together for this relationship. Look, I don’t want to change Amira, alright? On the contrary, I want to learn from her”

“So what? Now you want to be a muslim, or what?”

The way Cris laughs when she speaks makes Dani get angrier even though he thought that wasn’t possible.

“Maybe, yes! Or not. Or I don’t know Cris. Yeah, I think so.” This is not how Dani wanted to have this conversation with his sister but she didn’t give him any other choice. When he sees Cris looking at him with such a horrified look on her face he tries to calm down a bit and explain it to her. “Look Cris, all I know right now is that Amira is not only the type of person I want to be with, she’s also the type of person I want to be.”

All Cris can to is look at him and shake her head, not believing what she’s hearing. This ends Dani’s calm. His sister should be supporting them and not making him justify his feelings.

“Look, I know you’re mad, but you’re being fucking selfish. And you’re surprised we didn’t tell you sooner? The only thing Amira needed from you was support. And instead of that you behave like shit.”

Again, Cris is not even trying to talk and Dani decides to ask her the question that needs to be asked.

“Fuck Cris, I don’t get why you’re so mad at us being together.”

Cris sighs and looks at the floor, she’s getting tired of this conversation.

“Dani, leave me alone, for real”

She walks by her brother trying to reach the door to leave but Dani tries to stop her by repeating the question.

“No, fuck, Cris, don’t go. You always do this. Answer me. Why are you so mad at us?”

“Because I love you two too much, alright?!-Cris is yelling now and she turns around to look at her brother who’s looking back at her, confusion on his face. Cris can see the moment he starts to understand everything.

“Cris…” Dani says almost whispering and approaches his sister hesitantly. She takes a step back.

“No. Just no. I love you two so much Dani and I don’t want to see you destroying each other. Relationships are so fucking hard, alright? More than you think. And I don’t want to be there when in six months you get tired of this and cheat on my best friend. Or when in a year Amira realizes you’re not what she wants and she breaks my brother’s heart. Can’t you understand that I cannot deal with that?”

“But Cris…” Dani tries to approach her again and this time Cris doesn’t move, she only looks at the floor ashamed. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know that.” Righ now is Cris the one whispering.

“Alright, fine, I don’t know that. But neither do you. No one knows what’s going to happen next month or next year or five years from now. All I can tell you is that I know what I’m feeling right now, I know what I’m getting myself into and I swear I regret nothing. Fuck Cris, for example yesterday…” Dani stops before he can finish that sentence, he’s not sure he want to tell his sister that. “Forget it”

“What?” Cris frowns when she notices her brother blushing.

“Forget it” He can’t even look at his sister so he just stares at the floor hoping she just drops it.

“Come on, Dani, what’s wrong?”

“You’re going to laugh at me because I’m too cheesy” Dani mumbles biting his lip.

“Fuck, Dani, come on”

“Fine”. He takes a deep breath and looks at his sister who’s changed her expression, now she looks like she’s willing to listen and not judge him. “Yesterday I was with Amira and…there was a moment when she touched my hand for a couple of seconds. Just a couple of seconds, Cris, that’s it. And it may sound stupid to you but I swear that what I felt in those two seconds is something I’ve never felt before. No kiss with some random girl can make me feel that. That’s how sure I am about my feelings for Amira.”

“Well, alright, it is a little bit cheesy.” Cris tries to stop herself from laughing but she can’t.

“Fuck, Cris” Dani doesn’t know where to hide right now, thought, if he’s being completely honest, he’s kind of proud of what he just said.

“Hey” Cris takes a step closer to him and places her hand on his shoulder so he looks at her. “But it’s also very beautiful and it’s…well it’s how I feel about Joana”.

“Can we talk about that? The real reason you’re acting like this” Now is Dani the one that tries to get her sister to look at him since she’s clearly avoiding him

“I don’t know what you mean” Cris crosses her arms on her chest and looks away.

“Really? Are you sure? ‘Relationships are so fucking hard, you have no idea’ You do have an idea about that, don’t you?”

Cris is not stupid, she knows what Dani means and she also knows that they were bound to have this conversation. For a moment she thinks about leaving, ignoring him and go back to her inside world but, when she looks up at Dani, she knows he’s going to support her, even if she didn’t.

“I’m a mess, Dani. I love Joana, so fucking much, but sometimes everything is so difficult that I don’t even know if it’s worth fighting for. What if we end up hurting each other? What if I overwhelm her? What if she realizes she’s happier without me?” She feels like she’s about to choke, she really can’t get more words out.

“What if it works out just fine?” Dani takes her hands and continues. “Look Cris, I don’t know what’s going to happen with me and Amira. And I don’t know what’s going to happen with you and Joana. But I know you love each other, I know you’ve never been this happy and that has to mean something, right? I think that as long as you’re willing to fight, you’ll still have a chance.”

“Since when are you this wise?” Cris is not trying to hide the tears that are welling up in her eyes. She really feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Dani laughs and places his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

“I’ve always been wise.”

“Nah, I think it’s because you’re in love.” Cris says laughing for real for the first time in a long time. She becomes more serious when she looks up at her brother. “You are in love, aren’t you?”

“Very” Dani says nodding, and he realizes he truly means it.

“I guess that then I should support you. If you want to be together I won’t be an obstacle, you’ll get plenty of that already.”

“Thank you, sis.” Now Dani is the one that’s about to cry and unlike what one would think he’s not trying to hide it. He hugs his sister tighter and says. “And you know that I’m here whenever you want to talk.”

“I know…And I’m sorry, for everything.” Cris is not mad anymore, just embarrassed, she knows she’s acted like a brat, but she also knows that her brother and her best friend will be there for her.

“I don’t think I’m the only one you should be apologizing to, am I right?” Dani raises his eyebrows at Cris, there’s no need to explain further.

“I know, I’ll apologize to Amira tomorrow.” Cris knows it’s not going to be easy, she’ll have to swallow her pride, but she also knows it’ll be worth it.

“Good”

Cris can’t help but laugh at the situation but Dani doesn’t understand quite well what she’s laughing about so he frowns at her.

“Look at you, defending your girlfriend.” Cris says with a smug smile while Dani rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you have a girlfriend.”

Now Dani is the one laughing and he realizes that he does in fact have a girlfriend and he couldn’t be happier about it.

“And so do you. Look we can team up. You tell mom about Joana and I’ll tell her about Amira. That way she’ll be so overwhelmed she won’t know who she should disown first.”

“Asshole” Cris says pretending to be mad and pushing her brother away.

“Hey, it’s a good plan!” Dani follows Cris who’s again trying to reach the door to leave, but now she’s not angry. Still, he stops her so he can tell her one last thing. “Really Cris, whenever you’re ready to tell mom about Joana, I’ll be ther for you, if you want me there”

“Thank you, Dani” Cris gives him another hug and they start going downstairs to their house. “And since we’re being honest with each other…If you hurt Amira, I’ll cut your balls”

Dani laughs and starts running down the stairs, leaving his sister behind.

“I’m being serious Dani, I’ll cut your balls!”

#skam españa #damira #amiris

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thecozywhaleshark · 4 years

Text

Jack of All Trades (pt. 4)

Word Count: 4465

Warnings: SMUT. Swearing. Almost oral (f. receiving). Fingering. Escort!Tae. Virgin!Reader

Summary: The chapter where you allow the most annoyingly hot escort customer to take your virginity

The amount of times you had folded that business card... crumpled it, ripped it, thrown it in the trash... and taken it back out again made you madder than you ever thought you could be.

You didn't want to contemplate losing your virginity to the most arrogant hot head that came into your bar.

And yet...

No. Shut up. Don't even think about it.

Make a list. Pros and cons.

Pros: You get to claim that you lost your v-card to someone hot.

Cons: You will forever live with the knowledge that to lose your v-card you had to hire an escort.

You wince. That would be a blow to your ego.

But on the other hand... he did offer. So would it technically be hiring an escort if he offered to do it for free?

Still kinda insulting though.

You huff a breath, blowing some hair out of your face that had fallen out of your messy bun.

You mull it over as you get ready for work, tucking your polo into your favorite pair of high waisted jeans.

You're totally not wearing those because they make your butt look good. They are just a pair of jeans, which you grabbed from a pile. Not wearing them for someone to stare at. Would never do that.

Grabbing your apron, you leave your apartment and head to work. There is no way you're letting him into your pants tonight.

Arriving at work, you prayed for a miracle, something that wouldn’t make him come in tonight, but as you walked in it looked like God wasn’t going to grant you any favors tonight.

Tae was already sitting at his stool, smiling brightly as you took your place on the opposite side of the counter.

“Jagiya! My favorite girl. Can I get another?” He holds up his drink, clinking the ice inside it.

“Jesus Tae, give a girl a minute to clock in first.”

He checks his watch. “60. 59. 58. 57...”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a bottle of rum from behind you and placing it on the counter. “God you’re annoying.”

He grins. “But you love me.”

“You wish.”

“Aw, jagi. Don’t be that way.”

You lean forward on the counter, topping his rum and lowering your voice. “I will act any way I want towards the man who keeps trying to claim my virginity.”

His grin widens. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

You shoot him a look while you spin the cap back on the Bacardi. “Then I won’t.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought that I might as well just bite the bullet.”

“Ouch.” He places a hand over his heart. “Is the thought of being with me really that painful?” “Yes.”

Tae whistles. “Damn. She cold.” He studies you as you busy yourself with other customers before making your way back to his side fo the bar.

“So what you in for tonight jagiya? More fingers? Perhaps some tongue?”

You send him a glare over your glassware.

“Anal?”

You slam down the shot glass you were cleaning so hard it almost cracks.

“Anal is not virginity day stuff!” You hiss, leaning close to make sure he can hear you properly.

Tae’s grin splits his face and he lifts his drink up to his lips. “So you’re officially accepting my offer then.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You grumble, furiously putting away the glass and doing your very best to avoid his gaze.

Tae watches you the rest of the night, his gaze getting heavier as you go about your shift. At one point he stops drinking, holding up his hand when you lift the bottle to refill as usual.

“I’m okay.” He smiles, waving you off.

“What, already?” You set down the bottle, shocked.

“I need to be sober enough to do my job.” He replies. “So I’ll just have virgin coke and rums from now on.” He winks.

“Glad you’re taking it seriously,” you grumble, squatting down behind the counter to pull out a fresh can of coke as you try to ignore the flush painting your cheeks.

“For you jagiya? Always.”

You quickly open up the can, not caring that it bubbles over onto your counter as you shove it his way. “Flirt.”

He grins, picking up the coke and pouring it into his cup. “That’s me.”

It’s 20 minutes to the end of your shift when Tae can’t sit still any longer, fidgiting in his seat before finally hoping the counter and striding over to you.

“What are you doing? You can’t be back here-” you whip around, putting your hands on your hips. “Get back on your side of the bar.”

“I don’t want to.” Tae reaches out, grabbing your waist and pulling your chest to his. “The bar is empty. And I promised you a good time.”

“That’s nice, but my shift isn’t over.” You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“It’s close enough.”

“Still.”

“But jagiya-” He leans forward, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I want to be close to you.”

You hold up a finger to his lips, pushing his head back. “Not your jagiya. And you can be close to me in 20 minutes when my shift is over.”

He pulls back with a frown. “You’re stalling.”

“No, I’m doing my job.” You pull out of his grip and whip him with your towel. “Now get.”

“Fine.” He hops over the bar again and sits back down, checking his watch. “18 minutes.”

It’s two minutes to the end of your shift when he follows you into the back storage room and rests his hands on your hips.

You jump, your heart beating out of your chest. “For the love of God- really Tae?”

“I’ve been patient,” he says pressing a hot kiss to the back of your neck.

You turn in his arms. “You couldn’t wait two minutes? Is taking my virginity really something you want to hurry up?”

“No, but making you feel good for the longest amount of time possible is one of my top priorities.”

“WoW,” you roll your eyes. “What a line. I’m sure all of your clients love that one.”

He grins, happily looping his arms around your middle. “They do in fact. But,” his eyes darken as he lowers his head until his lips are a breath away from yours. “With you I mean it.”

He kisses you then, hot and hungry, his fingers slipping into the hair at the back of your neck to get a better grip and slot your mouth deeper against his as he gives you a taste of what you’re in for tonight.

And against your better judgement, you find yourself leaning into it. He feels just as good as last time, and when his hands start to roam, you don’t stop him. Your hands are gripping him close, your focus on the way his tongue feels against yours when suddenly Tae pulls back, his hands on your ass.

“What the-” He reaches into your back pocket and pulls out exactly what you know he’s going to find.

He looks at you incredulously. “Is this a taser?”

You shrug, trying to catch your breath. “I work at a bar.”

“But a taser?”

“A girls gotta be protected.”

Tae chuckles and slides it back into your pocket. “But darling, that’s why you have me.”

You roll your eyes, smoothing down the creases in his shirt where you had held onto him. “You have a bat behind the counter that I bought specifically for you.”

He grins and drums his hands on your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “Aw, that’s so sweet that you thought of me when you bought something. See? We’re bonding already.”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

He does without a question, only pulling away to whisper “Bonding” once more as he slowly lowers himself to his knees and reaches for the button of your jeans.

“Oh - nope. No.” You tug him back up gently by his hair. “I am not letting you eat me out in the storage room of a bar.”

“So letting me finger you in an alley is fine but you draw the line at oral in a back room?” He looks up at you with a smirk.

You nod. “Standards.”

“Well then,” He stands up and brushes the dust off his knees. “I guess we better get to that hotel. And quickly.”

He keeps his hand on your lower back as you clock out and you find it hard to concentrate on logging the right time when he slips his pinky finger under the edge of your shirt.

“Hey-” you warn, shoving his hand off you, “Keep it PG.”

He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You weren’t acting very PG in the storage room.”

You blush, grabbing your keys. “Let’s get going.”

He follows, nodding at the new bar tender thats taking your place and even holding the door for you as you walk out to your car. “Ma’lady.”

“Shut up.”

You drive to the hotel in relative silence, the only sounds being those of irritation as you shove Tae’s hand continuously off your leg as he tries to walk his fingers up your thigh. It was too much of a distraction.

Tae manages to keep his hands off you while you check into the hotel, but the minute you are in the elevator he’s crowding you into the corner, wrapping his arms back around your waist.

“How do you always smell so good even though we both spend our nights in a bar?” He murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair as you try to remember to breathe.

“I think it’s called Shampoo.” You answer, making Tae chuckle as the bell dings at your floor.

“Come on,” he grabs your hand and starts heading down the hallway.

You barely make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against it and cupping your face in his hands, kissing you hard.

You’re caught off guard but quickly oblige, sliding one of your hands into his hair to bring him closer still.

He slips his tongue out to touch the seam of your lips and you don’t hesitate to open them for him, letting his tongue slip against your own.

“I know you’re a great kisser jagiya, but I think we can do better than this,” he breathes, pulling away from your mouth to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

Your head hits the back of the door as you tilt your head to give him more access, letting it dawn on you that you’re really doing this - really about to give your virginity to the annoying as fuck escort who teased you at your job.

But god he was hot and what he was doing with his mouth as he sucked on your neck pooled heat in the place where you were starting to need him most.

You moan his name as he nips at your collarbones, pushing his hands underneath your shirt and pressing his palms against your bare sides.

“Your skin is so soft,” he groans, pulling back from your neck and tugging at the sides of your polo. “I want more.”

You lift your arms, letting him pull it off and toss it to the ground. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he stares at your exposed décolletage, his gaze heating.

“Fuck jagi,” he swears softly, running his hands up your sides. You shiver underneath his touch. To be honest, the room is chilly, but his gaze heats you as he looks you over. “I didn’t know you were hiding all this under that polo.”

“Right,” you drawl, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. “Because a polo hides everything. Secret bra, secret boobs...secret.”

“No it’s not - fuck.” He stares at your chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his hands slide up your sides, stopping just underneath your breasts.

“A speechless Tae? This is new.”

“You’ll be the speechless one soon jagi,” he chuckles darkly before dipping his head and popping one of your nipples into his mouth.

You groan at the sensation, arching your back into his mouth as your fingers slide into his hair, desperate to keep him there.

He obliges for a little while, one of his hands cupping your other breast to give it some attention while he works his tongue over your pebbled bud. Eventually he pops off, kissing across your chest as he spins you around, backing you up towards the bed.

You claw at his shirt as he sits you down, his mouth catching on yours before he parts from you to pull his shirt over his head.

It’s your turn to bite your lip as you unabashedly check him out, reaching out to trail your fingers down his chest in exploration.

“Like what you see jagi?”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” he smirks, gesturing down to his pants and the obvious bulge that was growing there.

You roll your eyes, shutting him up by reaching up to pull his mouth back to yours. As he kisses you back you suddenly feel his hands at the button of your jeans, swiftly undoing them and sliding part of his hands between them and your underwear.

The first brush of his fingers over your covered mound has you gasping, your mind flashing back to that day in the alley.

“Tae,” you moan, and he presses down harder, rubbing softly over your core as he pulls away from your mouth.

“Trust me,” he whispers, locking eyes with you as he slowly pushes your back flat on the bed and gets down on his knees before you, pulling your jeans from your legs.

You’re trembling with nerves, keeping an eye on his face as he runs his hands soothingly over the tops of your thighs.

“It’s okay jagi, I’m just going to make you feel good. But if you don’t want it, I have other ways...”

He looks at you intently and you give a shallow nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as he presses his mouth to the side of your knee and begins to move slowly up the inside of your thigh.

It doesn’t take long before you start to relax, your trembling easing as you decide to trust him as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed heat, tasting you on the fabric.

He groans low in his throat, kissing it again before reaching up to your panties, tugging gently at the sides.

“Can I?”

You bite your lip, nodding as he slowly pulls them down your legs and over each foot before placing his hands back on your knees.

While he had disposed of your undergarments you had automatically closed your legs, your relaxed feeling gone now that you were deprived of your last piece of modesty.

“Jagiya... why’d you block the view?” Tae asks softly, massaging his thumbs into your thighs.

“I...I don’t know.” You bury your face in your hands. You feel Tae shift away from your knees, the warmth of his body spreading over yours and you feel his fingers trying to gently pry yours away from your face.

“Jagiya, look at me.”

You huff out a breath, running your fingers back into your hair as you look up at him. His brow is creased in concern as he looks down at you, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

He shushes you softly. “Don’t be.”

“I just... don’t think I'm ready for that yet.”

“It’s okay, I have other methods, remember?” He gives you a comforting smile. “That is, if you still want to continue?”

You think about it for a second before smirking back up at him. “Kiss me again and we’ll find out.”

His mouth is back on yours in an instant and the comforting rhythm of his lips over yours has you calmed down and horny within a minute. You find yourself unconsciously wrapping your legs around his waist and he groans, pushing you back into the mattress as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

You moan into his mouth at the feeling, and when his hand finds itself back at your heat and rubbing your clit in slow circles, you’re bucking into his hand, the coil tight in your stomach aching for release.

“Tae,” you whine, reaching down your body to grip his wrist when he slides two fingers deep inside you. “Fuck, Tae...”

“We’ll get to that jagi, patience.” He shakes his hair out of his eyes before wrapping his other arm around your waist and bringing you into a half-sitting position, giving him a deeper angle to pump his fingers into you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grabbing a handful of his hair as he brings you closer to orgasm. Everything about him is lighting you up inside, from the way his fingers move inside you, to the heat of his chest against yours, his mouth hot and sloppy against your own - and before you’re ready you find yourself coming over his fingers, a cry of his name on your lips.

“That’s it jagiya, that’s it,” he pants, working you through your orgasm. “Cum all over my fucking fingers...fuck.”

“Tae,” you whimper, pushing at his hand. “Tae more.”

Taehyung tsks, “I just gave you an orgasm and you already want more?”

“Yeah, want to get this over with.”

“Ouch.” He grins, pulling his hand out of your heat and bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking on the taste. You can’t deny the way it sends a fresh wave of heat to your core, but you mentally file it into the back of your head. Another time.

He pulls them out, his eyes impossibly darker. “Fuck baby, you taste so good.” He shakes his head as he trails his fingers over your inner thigh, chuckling when you shudder involuntarily underneath him. “But I already got you all ready for me.”

He pulls away from your body only to discard his pants before he’s back on top of you. He rocks his hips against yours, beginning to coat his length in your juices as you keen and wiggle beneath him, trying to adjust to the feeling.

“I love how sensitive you are,” he whispers, reaching over to the night stand where he had placed his wallet and retrieving a condom.

You watch him roll it on, your mouth open and panting. He’s so much bigger than you thought he would be. You didn’t know how he was going to fit.

He sees your brow crease in worry and reaches up, softly stroking your cheek. “Hey,” he whispers gently. “We’ll take this nice and slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

You nod, biting your lip. You trusted that he knew what to do. He was a professional escort after all, right?

He rocks himself against your core and continues to kiss you until once again you are moaning in his mouth. Then slowly, he reaches down and lines up at your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling, new, but not unpleasant as he slowly pushes in another inch and pauses.

“Okay?” He asks, eyes earnestly searching your face for any sign of pain.

You nod, clutching his shoulders. “Okay.”

He slowly pushes in an inch at a time, checking in with you to make sure this is really what you want. He groans when he bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck for a minute while he tries to even out his breathing.

“Still okay?” He asks, a little strangled, and you hug him to you tightly. It feels weird, to have your body so on display like this, so to be so close to another person - to have another person inside you. It’s silly, but you can’t stop your grin as your body adjusts to him and you realize you had finally done it - finally taken matters into your own hands and decided to lose your virginity. And it hadn’t hurt much. That was the part that surprised you most of all.

Your cunt pulsed around him and you experimentally clenched, just to see what would happen.

Tae let out a strangled sound and pulled himself away from your neck, glaring at you. “Stop that.”

You giggled, loving seeing the great sex-god Tae whining at your notions.

He moves out of you slowly, stopping your laughing when he slides back in. “Still okay?”

It’s a whole new feeling, and your body feels like it’s on fire as he slowly moves in and out of you, whispering questions as he does.

You whimper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as he picks up the pace, groaning with restraint.

“It’s okay Tae, you can go faster? If you want? I think I'm okay.” You’re actually aching for more, your breath hitching every time he moves against you and you’re starting to think that this might be paradise.

“Are you sure?” He pants, his skin gleaming with sweat, jaw clenched in concentration.

“Yeah-”

“Thank god.” He kisses you harshly, moving his hips faster against yours. “I’m so fucking sorry but I don’t think I can hold out much longer jagiya I’m-”

You moan, locking yourself around his body as he fucks into you hard, chasing his release. You realize while he had been slow for you, and careful to make sure you got off and were ready for him, he had been denying his own release and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

You pulled his mouth back down to yours, claiming his kiss as you felt his pace slow and his body shudder above you.

Slowly you ran your hands up and down his back as he caught his breath, pulling out of you slowly. You didn’t mean too, but you winced as he did, catching Tae’s attention.

“Oh god, did I hurt you?” He began pressing kisses to the mark along your neck and checking you over.

“No! No. It’s okay. You’re fine. It’s fine.” You cupped his face in your hands, making him look directly into your eyes. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

You pulled him down, kissing him softly in thanks. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist and settling in at your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Rest a bit.”

You lay there for a moment in comfortable silence before Tae speaks again. “I should probably get going.”

He gets off the bed, collecting his items of clothing from around the bed as you sit up, tucking the sheet around your breasts to preserve your modesty.

Not that it matters, as he’s already seen you naked, but whatever.

You watch him for a moment before pulling your hair into a messy ponytail, securing it with the band on your wrist. “So, what do I owe you?”

Tae stills, turning around to study you while he finishes buckling his belt.

“What?” You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and suddenly find yourself shy. “Stop staring would you? It’s getting weird.”

He cocks his head, a slow smile playing over his face. “I was just calculating your payment. Deciding what it was going to be.”

“Well, get on with it. What is it?” You pull the sheet around you tighter and point to your discarded uniform. “Grab me that.”

He smiles, reaching for your polo and throwing it at you. “Breakfast.”

You give him a weird look. “Breakfast?”

He shrugs. “What? I’m hungry.”

You look over at the clock on the bedside table. “Tae, it’s 6am.”

“Okay, but think about it: pancakes.” He pushes his arms on the end of the bed, bouncing you a little. “Pancakes jagi. Pancakes.”

“Okay okay, I get it. Pancakes.” You pull your shirt over your head and sit in the bed, hands folded in your lap.

“Why are you still in bed? Don’t you want food?” Tae pouts at you from the other side of the room, putting his hands on his hips.

“I will get out when you turn around and toss me my pants.”

Tae chuckles as he looks around for your pants, finding them near the foot of the bed. “You don’t have to be so modest jagi, you were happily pants-less for me just moments ago.”

You scowl at him as he hands you your pants, batting him away with your hand as he tries to kiss your cheek. “Turn around.”

“Do I have to?”

You send him a withering glare and make a circle with your finger. “Around.”

He laughs but does as he’s told, disappearing into the bathroom while you pull on your discarded underwear and jeans. You’re trying to do the clasp of your bra behind you without fully taking off your shirt when Tae reappears, his hair now pushed back in the hotels curtesy, face-washing headband.

Somehow he pulls it off. You hate it.

“Aw, you’re putting it back on? After all that effort I went through to take it off.” He sighs heavily as he approaches you, giving you a wink as he takes the clasp nimbly from your fingers and clasps it together. “Did you want it on the first, second, or third row?”

“Um, first.”

As soon as he secures the clasp, you yank your shirt down over your stomach and walk briskly to where your purse lays, pulling it over your shoulder. “So breakfast then?”

The hazy look clears from his eyes and he smiles brightly, stepping quickly into his shoes - folding down the backs of them with his heels much to your horror- and throwing open the door. “BREAKFAST!”

Minutes later you’re sat inside a Perkins, watching as Tae flips through the menu, eagerly looking at all the items.

“Are you ready to order?” A tired waitress comes over, holding up her pen and clicking it.

“Yeah, I think so.” You look at Tae and he nods before looking back at his menu. “I’ll just have the hash browns and scrambled eggs. With a hot chocolate, please?”

The waitress smiles at you and takes your menu, tucking it under her arm as she turns to Tae. “And you sir?”

He looks up at her, wide-eyed. “Can I have the bear pancakes?”

The waitress blinks. “The ones with the bananas? From the kids menu?”

Tae nods his head vigorously, his hair bouncing over the headband. “Yeah!”

“Sure thing.”

He gives her a blinding smile, and you feel your heart stupidly skip a beat.

Shit.

94 notes · View notes

queenborhapreaderships · 4 years

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Promise - Geralt/Reader

Hey guys! I did a thing! And I’m gonna post it here because I reaaaallly don’t wanna make another side blog for anoooother fandom, so feel free to completely ignore this if you followed me for Queen and Queen only. Anyway! Here it be.

“Goddamnit, Geralt. We’re a fucking team, why would you do something so stupid? This was a two-person job and you know it.” You huff and turn your back, exasperated.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but we fight together, strategically, or not at all. I haven��t known you to be so stupid, that was entirely unnecessary.” The more you think about it, the madder you get, spinning around to face him again. He won’t meet your eyes. Quite frankly, he looks awful. There’s a long, angry gash down his right cheek and his hair is muddy and sticking every which way.

You sigh and step towards him, placing your hand on his shoulder. You feel him let out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. Sure, he can be an idiot, but you don’t like seeing him hurt, especially when it could’ve been easily prevented. If he would’ve let you help.

You’d been traveling with Geralt for decades by now, he knows you’re a powerful enough witch to hold your own, so why he had suddenly diverged from your established battle routine was beyond you.

He finally looks up to you and the look on his face is indiscernible. You can usually read him, having been so close for so long, but this is different. He looks… different. Something’s wrong. And knowing him, it’ll take the force of an entire cavalry to get it out. Or the patience of an elder, but that has never really been your style and Geralt is more than aware of that fact.

You decide to drop it for now and instead focus on the seeping wound that’s a little too close to his eye for comfort. You lead him to a tree and softly usher him down, he sits and leans against it without any resistance and you crouch in front of him. He knows the drill.

He’s been hurt before, quite often actually considering his line of work, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get used to it. He’s a gentle soul, despite the, well, everything about him. It hurts your heart to see him in pain, no matter how good he is at concealing it. You know if he were alone we would simply rub a sub-par balm on it and go about his day, but luckily you were trained in several facets of magic, healing being one. It comes in handy. A lot.

You reach out and gingerly place your hand on his unharmed cheek, keeping his head still and bracing yourself for the magic that was soon to be flowing out of your other one. The second you feel his rough skin under your palm, his eyes flutter closed and your heart surges in your chest. You swallow the feeling you’d been ignoring for so long because this was more important. Taking care of him is more important than any childlike fantasies that you do your best to keep under lock and key.

You feel your thumb stroke the apple of his cheek and see him bite his lip. You weren’t even aware that you were going to do it until you had and you smile softly at his reaction. He seemingly subconsciously leans into your touch and you can’t help yourself, you lean forward and plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. His eyes open and you raise your other hand, pausing for a moment before he gives you a small nod indicating that he’s ready.

You take a deep breath as you feel the energy collecting near your chest and your eyes narrow as you focus it in towards his cut, hovering your hand above it. Instead of closing his eyes to prepare for the process, he keeps his eyes glued to you, silently observing the intensity of your power. It would be easy to get distracted, to get lost in those beautiful fucking eyes of his, but you know you’ve gotta keep your attention on the task at hand.

A yellow glow surrounds the wound as it slowly stitches itself back together, leaving nothing but a thin line where his skin was once torn. You gently remove your other hand from the side of his face and pull up your sleeve to wipe the remaining blood off.

“There. As good as new. Almost.” You say, the twinge of sarcasm not lost on Geralt. He reaches his hand to feel the small indent left and looks to you once again with that strange expression you still can’t pin.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” He says, softer than usual. “I’d apologize for what I did out there, but I’m not sorry. My first priority is and always will be keeping you safe.” He starts to get up, but you forcefully shove him back down, your hand pushing the center of his chest and keeping him up against the tree.

“No. That’s bullshit, Geralt, and you know it.” You spit out, feeling the anger bubbling back up again. “I would almost get it if I were in any immediate danger, but I wasn’t. What you did was reckless and you’re lucky you didn’t come out looking any worse, otherwise, I would’ve left your sorry ass on the ground where it fell”

You turn to storm off but you hear him grumble under his breath.

“No, you wouldn’t have” you look up in frustration and just stare at the colors painting the sky for a minute, taking a deep breath to ponder. You know he’s right. Of course he’s right, but what he did was just so senseless and you can’t have him thinking risking his life like that is in any way acceptable. You can’t wrap your head around why.

“Like I said. We’re a team. We’ve always been a team. Don’t insult me by second-guessing my abilities.”

“Y/N, that’s the last thing I’m doing. I just…” He trails off and grunts.

“Geralt, for fuck’s sake, what? Then what exactly are you doing? Why couldn’t you have let me take him on when he came for me. I could’ve done it. I could’ve protected you. I could’ve prevented this.” Your anger dies out as you look to the blood still somewhat smearing his face.

“It shouldn’t have to be your fucking job to protect me. I can protect myself.” He stands up and barrels towards you, voice as cold as ice. You stand your ground, not intimidated by whatever hissy fit he’s decided to throw today.

“Oh really? Can you? Then what have these past seventy-odd years been? Because the way I see it, I’ve been protecting you and you’ve been protecting me. It’s a two-way street, man. What changed?”

You’re face to face now and his demeanor practically crumples at your statement, knowing the truth it gleans. He swallows his pride, for the first time in ages and decides, hey. What the hell?

“I can’t,” he chokes on his words, “I just can’t lose you.” His forehead falls forward and he rests it against yours. “And if I do, and there’s something I could’ve done to save you, I don’t think I can live with myself.” Your heart shatters at his words, not underestimating how significant this moment of vulnerability is to him. To you. To the both of you.

“Oh, Geralt,” you say and move your hands up to his cheeks, keeping him close but moving his head away to get a good look at him. If he went for it, you might as well too. “You think the same thing doesn’t paralyze me with fear as well? You’re all I have in this world and you mean everything to me. But I trust you to take care of yourself. All I ask is that you trust me with the same. I would never do anything to get myself fatally injured, to get myself taken away from you. Okay?” He doesn’t move a muscle, only his shaking breaths can be heard over the pounding of your two hearts.

You can’t take it anymore. You can’t deny it any longer. You love him. You love him so fucking much, damn the consequences. You never believed the gossip that Witchers don’t feel and you can place it now, that look in his eye. It’s admiration, fear, wonder, and love all wrapped up into one. At this moment, Geralt is more human than anyone you had ever encountered.

You move in closer as his face nears yours. You feel a grin begin to form as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in tight, foreheads touching once again. You can feel his breath ghosting your lips. It’s you who takes the final leap, closing the gap. Your lips meet his in your final moment of bravery. It’s soft at first, trepidation pumping through your veins, but when you feel him kissing you back eagerly, all your inhibitions are gone.

When you finally break apart, remembering to breathe, you see the most beautiful look upon his face. A smile to rival the gods. You let out a laugh and he kisses you again, just for a second before pulling away and taking your hands in his.

“Promise?”

“Promise”

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 10)

He could never find her, no matter how hard he tried. No one could find her and no one ever did. Not until she wanted them too.

“It’s just a dumb game Azula!” Zuko would always declared. “Who cares if you always win.” He did and she knew it. They all cared and they were all jealous.

She always had the best hiding spots and she owed it partially to her teeny build; she could scramble into places that none of her friends, save for Toph, could fit in. To some extent, she still can, but not as many as she could as a child.

That day she had tucked herself into a particularly tight wedge nestled in the cove. During their play, nothing was off limits, every crevice and orifice was fair game. Though they mostly avoided the cave in the cove because it was too dark and too wet.

Azula had always been more adventurous, more darling, and, in childhood, more reckless and less careful. She shambled up a large rock, it was slick and wet and she was almost certain that she would fall and give away her hiding spot with a large splash. Luck was on her side, she managed to cling on and reach the top. From there she climbed her way into the wedge and waited, listening to the waves lapping against the sandstone and the steady drip drop of the moisture leaking from the cave ceiling. She could feel slimy seaweed sloughing down her arm and she stuck her tongue out in disgust. But she would endure it for the sake of her victory streak.

A few minutes turn into ten and then ten into fifteen before she heard Sokka and Zuko declare they gave up. Their voices were distant. It took another five before Katara made her declaration.

Azula’s smugness turned to pure dread in an instant. It is the instant that she tried to pull herself out of the wedge. It was an all encompassing terror when she found that the hole in the wall was too small for even she afterall. She remembers how her stomach had sank. How another ten minutes went by and then another. A feeling of suffocation and helplessness as she tried fruitlessly to back out of the crevice. An effort that only became more worthless as the panic had set in more.

Soon it had been an hour and then two before it finally occurred to her that she should cry or, at least, scream. She intended to only scream once, but that had opened the floodgates to all out bawling.

That was all she had needed to do. “I found you!” Sokka declared smugly. She had never been more relieved to lose a game.

Hakoda’s voice was the next that she’d heard, a soothing and soft one instructing her to stop crying for a moment and to relax her body as much as possible and then to suck in her belly and duck her head as close to the floor as she could.

Strong hands wrapped around her ankles and pulled. She’d heard Ursa whimpering softly. She was given a few bone jerking tugs before her body had come free. Her knees were skinned and her cheeks and elbows scrapped. Ozai had passed her to Ursa who’d held her nearly as tightly as the cave had and caressed her hair.

She hadn’t gotten in trouble that night, they were too relieved for that, but she had earned a reputation for constant childhood accidents and mishaps.

.oOo.

She doesn’t want to go home, she wants to go anywhere but home. But the longer she delays, the madder he is going to get. Katara knows this. She usually doesn’t like to be touched, but this time she lets Katara rub her back while she sits with her elbows digging into her thighs and her face buried in her hands.

Hakoda is just as aware as Katara. “If you need to stay here until he sobers up, you can take Sokka’s bed. I know that he won’t mind.”

Azula nods despite her apprehension. She hasn’t been in his room since he’d disappeared. She isn’t sure that she can take it, not tonight. Not when her mental state is already in the beginning stages of immense turmoil.

“You don’t mind the sofa, do you, Zuko?” The man asks.

“Couch is fine.” She hears his reply from down the hall.

She puts her hand on the doorknob but can’t bring herself to turn it. She gives a slight jolt at the sound of footsteps. “It was hard for me at first, too.” Katara confesses. “But it isn’t so bad after that.”

Azula takes a deep breath and twists the knob. The door falls open and she is greeted by a familiar ambiance. His walls are painted deep blue, he hasn’t bothered to take down the ocean life wall stickers that he’d put up as a kid. In fact he still has a few stuffed sharks and jellyfish strewn about in the corner. But he has also acquired several surfboards to hang on the wall--strictly decorative. And from the ceiling hang a collection of shark teeth and a few fishbones.

The floor has as much clutter as she remembers; a stack of knocked over reggaeton and reggae albums lies at the foot of his bed near a collection of sport-themed DVD’s. Clothes, mostly socks and aloha shirts, are cast randomly about the floor and drape over a chair by a desk.

The desk teems with other trinkets; a few bobble heads, 3D photo crystals depicting jelly fish, some unopened snack bars, and a few poorly done drawings along with pencils among other things. She then finds the pictures. There is one of just he and Katara holding fishing poles. Next to that is one of their family at the grand opening of their food joint. And next to that… Her stomach flutters and her eyes prickle. He has his arm around her, flashing the camera a goofy grin. He wears the most ridiculous pineapple shaped sunglasses and a straw hat. She remembers him forcing her to wear an even more ridiculous clownfish hat and a cheap rainbow lei.

Her tear finally escapes when she sees the next photo. She doesn’t remember it having been taken. Which is probably because she is asleep in the photo. Asleep and clutching a stuffed stingray. The same one she’d had since she was a child and her parents took she and Zuko to the aquarium. She is certain that Zuko still has his stuffed turtle.

She wishes that Sokka were home, if only to kick his ass for sneaking that picture. “He really liked that one.” Katara nods to that picture.

“Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “I’m sure he did.”

“I’ll leave you alone?”

Azula nods.

“I’ll send Zuko to get you when dinner is ready.”

She nods once more.

She waits until Katara leaves to make her way to Sokka’s bed. Her lower lip trembles as she climbs into it and bunches herself into a ball. It smells like him. In some way, being tangled in his blankets is like being swaddled in his arms. But it lacks the warmth that he had. In the privacy of the room she cries more openly. For the loss of Sokka. For the loss of her mother. For the loss of her father as he used to be.

She cries for her failed attempt. For her inability to even search for Sokka. For the abuse she’d taken and for the abuse she was about to take as soon as she inevitably faced her father. He was going to reek of alcohol and testosterone.

Her eyes are dry again and she has managed to catch an hour or so of sleep when she hears the knock. “The food is ready. It smells wonderful too.” Zuko calls.

“You can meet me at the table, Zuzu.” Groggily, Azula pulls herself up. She runs her hands over her face. She knows that her makeup is smeared and her hair is tousled. It doesn’t really matter, she has no one to impress right now.

She makes her way to the kitchen and pulls out a chair. Kya offers her a loving smile and her belly flutters again. That smile reminds her too much of her mothers for her to not have to bite the inside of her lip to keep tears at bay. She is being much too sentimental tonight.

“I’m sorry that you’re having such a rough night, sweetheart.” Kya cups her hand over Azula’s.

She doesn’t seem to take much offense at Azula’s lack of an answer. She eats in silence, listening to the other four make mundane conversation mostly about shows and how the restaurant repairs are coming along. She picks at her food, not really tasting it at all. It isn’t that the food isn’t rich and scrumptious, more so that her taste buds have dulled and her appetite has fled to make room for a feeling of sorrow.

There comes a knock, a heavy knock. Azula’s stomach plummets and the rest of her appetite is sapped away.

“I think that it is better if you return home.” Hakoda fills the doorway.

“I need to talk to her.” Ozai insists. She listens for a slur.

“We are in the middle of dinner.”

“I can wait.” She doesn’t need to see him to know that he his crossing his arms.

“After dinner we have other plans.”

“The discussion will not be long.” She hears no slur and she isn’t sure if this is more or less worrisome. She wonders if she should just get it over with. With a deep breath she stands.

“Azula…” Zuko starts. She pulls her wrist out of his grasp and makes her way to the door. Her eyes are dim and as impassive as she can will them to be.

Hakoda seems to go tense.

“Father.” She greets as dimly as her eyes.

The man looks her over and rubs his hand over his face again. “I didn’t come to the beach to fight with you.”

“But you still did it.” She mumbles, absently massaging her bruised wrists. His eyes follow her hand and find the purple-yellow. She thinks that he might have winced. She slips that hand into her pocket. “What do you want.”

He holds out an ice pack, “just to talk with you.”

“We can talk when you’re sober.” She replies with as much coldness as the pack he holds out. She retreats back into the house.

They are three of Sokka’s favorite romantic comedies in, and she still can’t get Ozai out of her mind. She wishes that Sokka could be there to watch the movies with them.

.oOo.

Being back in the lighthouse is dreadful. She knew that Hakoda and Kya couldn’t let them stay forever. Though they offered to take them back if Ozai laid a hand on either of them. Her father isn’t home yet, but this is much worse than him having waited by the door. The anxiety of waiting for him to finally arrive is getting to she and Zuko both.

Zuko spends the better portion of the day pacing around the lighthouse. She is more subdued, taking up the demeanor of a death row inmate, with a silent resignation of her fate.

The door falls open and Zuko jolts. Azula grips the edge of her chair as Ozai’s footfalls echo. “Both of you!” He calls. Zuko freezes where he stands, his body locks. Azula can feel her mind ebbing away. It has been a long time since her mind has gone distant and impassive, but it is her only defense. “Come down and have a seat.”

Zuko catches her hand as she numbly lets her feet take over. “Azula, don’t.” She shakes her head. “Better to get it over with.”

Zuko follows her down the spiral staircase. Ozai sits at the table, waiting. Feeling slightly wobbly, she takes her own seat. Zuko remains standing and a distance away from the table. When it comes to father, he might just be smarter than she.

Their father takes a deep breath, sets a stack of papers onto the table, and pushes them towards her. She quietly scans them over.

“What are those for?” Zuko asks.

She meets Ozai’s stare and he nods. “They’re...AA forms, Zuzu.”

“Khozen wouldn’t pour me another glass until I went.” He grumbles.

“How long have you been attending?” Zuko asks.

“Just a few days now.”

“Is that where you were on Monday?” Azula asks, suddenly feeling as though she had been the aggressor on the beach that day.

He pinches the bridge of his nose before confessing, “no, I was at the bar.”

“So much for, Khozen not pouring you another glass…” Zuko grumbles.

“I went to AA and he poured me a glass as he said he would.” Ozai shrugs.

“Have fun sharing that story at your next meeting.” Zuko crosses his arms. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Not quite.” Ozai replies. “I want you to take that boat that the two of you bough and return it…”

“I’m going to find Sokka.” Azula hisses. “I…”

“What you are going to do, Azula, is return that boat.” He pauses. “That money was your college fund, was it not?”

Azula flushes.

“And Zuko’s...and a good portion of our lighthouse fund.”

Her lower lip quivers.

“You are going to return that boat. Khozen’s will do us just fine and it will cost us much less.”

Azula looks up from the table. “Khonzen’s boat?”

“He used to be a pirate. He and I struck a deal. If I...succeed with this,” he gestures to the packets, “he will lend me the boat free of charge and we can go and search for answers together.” He pauses. “I lost your mother, I’m not about to let the two of you sail away without me. Understood.”

Tears well in her eyes again, but this time they are born of a different emotion. Hope, she realizes. She nods, “yes, father.”

“Does that sound fair to you?”

Frankly, she thinks that, for once, her father might be getting the short end of the deal. But then, getting clean isn’t such a terrible fate. “It does.”

“Does that sound fair to both of you?”

Zuko shifts his weight, never uncrossing his arms. “I guess.” Azula can’t blame him for his skepticism.

“Can you wait a little longer?” He asks. “Maybe help Katara and her family with La-bsters and have you surf tournaments with Chan? And then we can go out to sea.”

“Can I bring Katara?” Zuko asks.

“That is up to Hakoda and Kya.”

Azula doesn’t particularly want to delay, but the offer on the table shows more promise than spending her college fund and taking an impulsive, grief-driven expedition. “I can wait a little longer.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Ozai #Sokkla #Sokka #Katara #Fanfiction

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jae-sch-writes · 4 years

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Make It Up To You

Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (platonic), Scott McCall x Reader (romantic; not main pairing), Melissa McCall

Word Count: 1,908 (My TEEN WOLF fics ten to be longer than others, don’t they?)

Genre: flangst (my specialty)

Summary: Stiles has been ignoring the Reader, and she thinks she must have done something to warrant it. Will she find a way to make it up to Stiles, or will the friendship be lost?

Warnings: avoidance and being ignored (I’m pretty sure that’s it for this one)

A/N: I found this in my Google Drive and realized I had never posted it, so here we are. Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are my own and no one is to blame for them but me, myself, and I.

“Hey Scott, can I talk to you for a second?” you say as you approach your boyfriend in the hallway after school.

“Yeah, of course,” Scott says as he grabs some books from his locker and puts them in his book bag.

“Do you know why Stiles has been avoiding me?”

“I don’t think he’s avoiding you. Maybe he’s just been really busy,” Scott said as he grabbed your hand and the two of you began to walk toward the locker room.

“No, he’s definitely been avoiding me. If I go somewhere he is, as soon as I walk in the door, he seems to be done with whatever he’s doing there and leaves. The only place he hasn’t done that was in history today, and I have a feeling he would have left if he could have.”

“Y/N, maybe it’s just coincidence. Stiles is a busy person who usually has issues with staying still, in a good way, obviously, you know that.”

“I know, but still. I can’t shake this feeling that he’s definitely avoiding me and it kinda hurts. I just thought since your his best friend and the pack leader, you would maybe know something.”

“Sorry, I wish I could help more, but I have to get to practice.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you say. “Hey, do you think I could stay and watch your practice? I wanna be able to catch Stiles after.”

“Of course it’s okay. I’ll try to make sure he stays so you can talk to him. Then I’ll give you a ride home after, okay?”

“Thanks, Scott.”

“Dude, what’s going on with you and Y/N?” Scott asked in the locker room before practice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about man,” Stiles said as he pulled on his practice jersey.

“She says you’ve been avoiding her.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say ‘avoiding’. More like ‘staying as far away from her as possible’.”

“Stiles…” Scott began, “you need to talk to her. She’s really hurt that you haven’t talked to her.”

“Scott, I can’t do it, okay? You don’t wanna know why either. Just trust me on this, okay?”

“Stiles, I do trust you, but my girlfriend, one of your best friends, is hurt. You can’t keep this up forever.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said, “but I can try.”

“Y/N wants to talk to you after practice. At least come and listen to her,” Scott said as the two went out to the field.

“Yeah, fine. I’ll listen to her.”

“Thanks, man.”

After lacrosse practice was done, Scott met you in the parking lot with Stiles.

“Here ya go, Y/N. Stiles is here to listen to you, and you will, won’t you Stiles?” Scott asked Stiles and he just nodded.

“Okay, Stiles, I don’t know why you aren’t talking to me or why whenever I walk into a room you walk out. I don’t doubt that you have a good reason for ignoring me because you always have a good explanation to back your actions. I just want to know what that explanation is. So please, Stiles, I’m begging you, tell me why you’re ignoring me. Just tell me, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Siles just stood there in silence, staring at the ground. He couldn’t even look at you, that’s how much he knew he had hurt you.

“Fine, I see how it is. Whatever the hell I did, it seems to be so bad that you won’t even tell me what I did. So, whenever you decide to talk to me again, please do.”

You started to walk away with tears in your eyes. You had no idea as to what you did to deserve the cold shoulder from Stiles, and now you were even farther from finding out how you could make it up to him.

“Wait, Y/N!” Scott called. “I said I would give you a ride home, remember?”

“It’s fine Scott. I think I’ll just walk home now. Thanks though.”

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Scott said with both anger and confusion as soon as you were out of sight.

“What? I said I would listen to her. I never said anything about actually talking to her.”

“If you won’t tell her, then you gotta tell me, Stiles. I need to know why you won’t talk to her. I won’t tell her, I promise, but after what I just saw, I need to know, Stiles.”

“Y/N, honey what’s wrong?” Melissa asked when you walked through the door with tears streaming down your face and without Scott.

You said nothing as you wrapped your arms around Melissa’s neck and held on tightly. She didn’t say anything, she just held you in the way she knew you needed to be held.

You could have gone home to your own parents, but you preferred Melissa. She seemed to understand you better. It probably had something to do with the supernatural issues that she knew about since you and your own parents never had the whole “my boyfriend’s a werewolf” conversation.

“Okay, for me to help you, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s going on,” Melissa said as she looked into your bloodshot eyes.

“Stiles won’t talk to me and I don’t know what I did wrong!” you cried.

“Okay, come on,” Melissa whispered as she pulled you to the couch. You curled up in a ball and lay your head on her lap.

“Do your parents know you’re here?”

“Yeah, I gave them a call on the walk over,” you say quietly as Melissa began to run her fingers through your hair. Before you know it, the reigns of sleep pulled you into darkness.

About an hour later, Scott and Stiles walked in the door and Stiles was holders a container with your favorite ice cream.

“You two better have a good explanation as to why I was the one to comfort your friend,” Melissa said as she pointed a finger at Stiles, “and your girlfriend,” she pointed to Scott. “She came here crying her eyes out and now she’s passed out on the couch. You two. Explain. Now.”

“Mom, I swear, we can explain. Stiles was telling me why he hasn’t been talking to Y/N,” Scott started.

“Yeah, and then we were coming up with ideas for me to make it up to her,” Stiles continued.

“Fine. Scott, get Y/N upstairs and into bed. Stiles, you’re gonna stay right here. I have a few things to say to you.”

Scott carefully picked you up and carried you upstairs to his room and Stiles stayed with Melissa, slightly terrified of what was to come.

Once Scott was upstairs, Melissa turned to Stiles.

“Okay, spill. What the hell happened between you and Y/N?”

You were asleep in Scott’s arms on the bed when Stiles came upstairs.

“Dude, your mom is not happy with me,” Stiles said when he entered the room.

“Well, yeah. It’s my mom we’re talking about, and the topic is Y/N. What else did you expect?”

“Nothing I guess. Dude, let’s just wait to talk to her tomorrow. She’s asleep and I really rather not wake her. Then she’ll be even madder at me.”

Scott fell asleep on the bed with you and Stiles lied on the floor at the foot of the bed. He felt so bad about the situation that he didn’t even let Scott make something for him to sleep on. Stiles was awake all night trying to come up with even more ways to make up for what he had done.

When you woke up the next morning, your first thought was “coffee”. However, Stiles stopped you before you could get out of Scott’s room.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you,” Stiles said as he blocked your access to caffeine.

“Funny, considering you didn’t even want to utter a word to me yesterday,” you gritted through your teeth as you tried to get past Stiles.

“Please, Y/N. Just let me explain. I want to make it up to you, okay? I really do. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. Please, please, please. Just let me tell you what happened.”

“Fine, but first, you have to go get me coffee.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Stiles rushed out of the room and came back about ten minutes later with a cup of coffee in his hand. You were sat on the desk and after you received your drink, you stared at Stiles, waiting for him to tell his tale.

“Okay, so back when I was being possessed by the nogitsune, I hurt you. I didn’t want to, I hope you know that, but I still did. That… that thing had my thoughts. It wanted to hurt as many people as it possibly could, so it chose you to be the victim. If it hurt you, it knew that it would hurt the rest of the pack, especially Scott, since you’re his girlfriend. It would hurt Melissa, too, because everyone knows she sees you as a daughter, and me because I consider you to be one of my best friends. Y/N, I am so sorry for treating you the way that I did. I just knew I wouldn’t be able to face you after what I did, so I avoided you. I am so, so sorry.”

“Stiles,” you said quietly,” it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything. It was the nogitsune’s fault, not yours. Yeah, sure, it might’ve been your body, but it wasn’t your consciousness. I know you wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. Sure, maybe you didn’t handle the situation in the best way after it happened, but now that I know why you did what you did, I’m not as upset about it.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Just be my friend again. That’s more than enough for me.”

“Deal,” Stiles said as he pulled you into a hug. “We did bring ice cream home last night; want some?”

You nodded your head and Stiles went to get the ice cream. You sat by each other and watched a movie on Netflix as you waited for Scott to wake up.

When Scott finally stirred awake, he saw the two of you sitting next to each other, laughing at whatever joke was just said in the film.

“Good, you guys made up. Now, Stiles, what are you gonna do to say you’re sorry.”

“I’m just gonna be her friend again, man. She told me that was enough.”

“Are you telling me that we came up with a whole list of things you could do, and you’re not going to do any of them?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Stiles said with a smirk.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Aw, Scott,” you said as you walked over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek, “you could still complete that list. You know I wouldn’t mind.”

“And you know that I love to spoil you.” Scott wrapped his arms around you and pressed little kisses all over your face.

“Come on you two. I thought this was gonna be about me finally talking to Y/N again,” Stiles whined.

“You’re right. I’ve missed you, Stiles,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too,” Stiles said before wrapping both you and Scott in a hug.

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