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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

Hi! I know you only just posted it but would it be possible to request 33&36 from the prompts with Ransom please?❤️

A/N: Thank you for your patience on this one, i really hope when you read it that it was worth the wait. Also thank you for requesting in the first place, it means a lot that people ask me to write fics for them.

Prompt #33: "Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic"

Prompt #36: "You'd better watch your fucking mouth"

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut! Unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, swearing, daddy kink, implied alcohol consumption and use of the word slut/degradation. 18+ everyone....

Word Count: 2,191

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @twerkforambrose go check them out 💕

Your Filthy Addiction

Five more minutes, you’re going to give that arrogant son of a bitch five more minutes before you toss the food you’d made earlier. You’ve spent all dam day slaving away in that kitchen of yours to make sure Ransom had a decent home cooked meal to come back to after a long day working with Harlan, and what does he do? He doesn’t even show up.

You might love him but if you didn’t get annoyed at least once a day with him then life wouldn’t be right. He’s always doing something to mess you around.

And today is testament to that, it’s testament to the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t help but let you down. Maybe now you’ve had enough of sitting idly by and letting him walk all over you.

So when he eventually stumbles into the house, his tipsy state as clear as day, your cage is well and truly rattled.

“Where the hell have you been?” you snap, standing in front of him with your hands placed firmly on your hips as you take in his flustered cheeks. He’s very drunk indeed, probably due to the bottomless Jameson supply at the bar across town.

You’ve tried your hardest for years ever since the night you first met Ransom to help him with his obvious drinking problem but to no avail. And now you see why your solutions to his problems never worked, it was because despite his constant complaining about said problems, he loves having just a tiny bit of conflict in his life. Mostly with his good for nothing family who only treat him like dirt. But he gives as good as he gets, always has and always will.

“I was just out with Harvey” the way his shoulders move up as he shrugs only seems to bother you all the more. His lack of care for his actions have always created issues for your relationship but this takes the cake.

To some, your pouty and bratty behaviour may seem pathetic and unnecessary, but to you it’s more than him missing dinner. It’s about the fact that he always seems to let you down, over and over.

“Oh so you prefer his company over mine then? Because i made us a lovely meal so that we could eat together after a week of not being able to and this is the thanks i get? For my so called boyfriend to be swanning off with the master of one night stands” your voice is low, your stare dark and angry, your stance even more so and he can definitely see how badly he’s fucked up.

However, if you know Ransom well enough, then you can certainly see his change in attitude coming a mile off.

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth” he barks, his finger pointed directly in your face as he stalks closer to you. You find yourself stepping back, intimidation controlling you.

“Or what? You gonna make me? Judging by the way you’ve been acting you don’t have a leg to stand on” you say matter of factly as you shake your head in disgust at his nerve. How dare he boss you around when he’s the one who’s been out of line all this time.

“Maybe i will” he pokes his chin out as he stands tall, hands by his sides. He looks awfully confident as he inches closer. His index finger slips underneath your chin as he forces you to look directly into his menacing eyes.

You feel your breath catch in this moment. The knowledge of him doing whatever he wants to do to you just because he can is causing your entire body to shiver with anticipation. Despite how he makes you feel sometimes, you’re a sucker for him and everything he does.

He says jump, you say how high.

“What?” you murmur, wanting him to use his words just like he always makes you do.

“I said, maybe i will make you. Bet you’d love that, slut” you wince at the horrid nickname. It’s moments like these when you always try your hardest to avoid thinking about how his degradation of you makes you feel, your mind is objecting but your body is giving him the green light.

How is that?

How does he always manage to do that?

Must be some kind of mind control as you absentmindedly follow him through to the kitchen, his hand barely holding onto your own.

Before you can even make sense of things, he pushes you over the kitchen counter forcefully.

His hands splay across your ass cheeks as he lifts your dress up, bunching it at your waist before yanking your ruined panties down your bare legs. Next thing you know his fingers are toying at your dripping wet hole.

“Would ya look at this...you can try all you like to act up sweetheart, but you and i both know why this cunt of yours is soaked”

There he goes again, spewing filth to get you to give up the jig. You know you have to remain strong and stable but it’s so hard to do that when he....wait! Is he inserting his fingers? Fuck, they are so thick inside of you and two already? He must be a mind reader to know how this makes you feel, he must know what gets you keening because now here you are pushing back on them like a needy little brat.

“Pushing back on my fingers already? How pathetic” he tuts, his tone mocking as he chuckles a little. Still, his fingers remain as they twist and turn inside of you, scissoring you open before he adds a third.

Fuck, this is delicious torture. The man you’re supposed to be mad at but you can’t bring yourself to be when he makes your body feel so good.

The undeniable and powerful pleasure that he provides is just too good to quit. You could never let him go even if you actively tried to which by the way, you’ve attempted it a hundred times at least.

But every time you try he just lures you back in with his sexual prowess, his high libido and those dashing good looks. His sweet talk isn’t too bad either.

When will you ever learn to strengthen yourself up and walk away? Because he’s never going to change but oh shit, the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out rapidly is enough to cause the coil in your stomach to tighten one last time.

You move to meet his fingers, hips gyrating in circular motions slowly as you reach your hand between your legs.

Of course he pushes you hand away, insisting on using his own. His thumb presses down on your pulsating clit and the breathy groans that are escaping him let you know that he can sense your impending orgasm.

“Come on, baby. Cum for daddy” he urges, rubbing firm circles on you clit as his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against that spongy spot deep within. The one that will have you seeing stars in, 3...2...1.

“FUCK RANSOM” you scream out, hands gripping the kitchen counter so hard that it turns your knuckles white, his fingers continue to drive into you over and over as he rides you through your intense high.

“That’s my girl, just like that. Let go, baby” you can hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness he feels knowing that yet again he’s prevented you from walking away.

He’s convinced you to stay just by pleasuring you with his filthy touch, his sinful thick digits.

You may be weak, but with a man this good, a man capable of making your pretty little pussy cum over and over, why would you want to be anything else?

As soon as you come down from the high, you stand up, straightening your posture as you turn around to face him. The proud look covering his face lets you know that it’s all a game to him.

You pull your dress back down so that it’s covering up your modesty before pulling your panties up.

“What’s wrong, sad eyes?” he pokes, his hands resting either side of the counter, caging you in.

“You know what. You can’t just keep using sex to keep me around, Ransom” you huff in defeat, bothered by your lack of strong will.

“Sure i can, and what’s more, you’re gonna enjoy it too” he raises his eyebrows as he spins you back around, keeping your back arched by yanking your head backwards.

Every inch of your skin turns to gooseflesh as he trails his finger down the curve of your back before reaching your tail bone and pushing your dress up. He undoes the belt around his slacks before popping open the button and slipping them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection from its tight confines.

He slips your arousal covered panties to the side before smothering his eager red tip in your mouth watering pussy juices. Once he catches on your entrance he slams inside of you, but before you can jerk forward he hooks his arm into both of yours as he holds them behind you firmly.

You can never leave him, even if you truly wanted to, you’re stuck in an ongoing loop of orgasms and rough sex.

A frantic whimper slips off your tongue as his pace now renders on animalistic, hard and fast, just the way you both like it.

Of course the real pleasure comes from the slow and hard thrusts, the ones where he gently pokes at your g spot as he lays on top of you. Your legs wrapped around him, his face in the crook of your neck. But now is not the time for gentle and slow, now is the time for rushed and needy.

He’s desperate to achieve that orgasm just as much as he is to provide one for you. To feel your legs shaking as your head lulls back to rest on his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head, it’s something he can never and will never get enough of. The way your walls are clamping down on him right now should be illegal as he can feel his balls tighten with the impending release.

“Fuck. Keep tightening those walls baby, let yourself go. Just. One. Last. Time” his voice desperate as his breathing turns ragged, matching yours. Your chest starts to rise and fall before your head falls back to rest on his chest just like he loves. He can feel your entire body tremble in his hold as he loosens his grip and pushes you over the counter.

“Gonna fucking cum, deep inside of this pussy. Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby” he growls, his voice deeper than before. He’s so painfully close, as are you.

And as you flutter around him one last time, he spills his load inside of you, causing you to stand up onto your tip toes with your head pressed into the marble counter.

He paints your walls with thick white ropes before twitching as he slows down his thrusts, then he stills his hips.

All that can be heard in this kitchen is heavy panting before the sound of your pussy squelching as he pulls out distracts you. He pulls his slacks back up, making quick work of his zip, button and belt whilst you toss your panties into the hamper by the laundry room and pull your dress back down before heading up to your bedroom.

New panties are a must.

“Now do you get it?” he asks, leaning on the open doorway to your room and causing you to turn and face him once your fresh panties are on.

“Get what?”

“Your mine and you always will be, until i say otherwise” he states, shocking you.

“I’m not your property, Ransom”

“Oh but you are, those soaked panties in that hamper prove it. So get used to it, because you’re never leaving me, especially not now”

You’re well and truly fucked... held captive by his intoxicating smell, intimidating demeanour and his undeniable skills in the bedroom.

Guess you should have known from the day you first met Hugh Ransom Drysdale that you’d never make it out alive if you were to run.

But the real question is, do you even want to leave him? He’s everything you detest but still you stay and continue to crave more of him.

And the answer to that question would be no, no you wouldn't want to leave.

He may be a prick, an arrogant asshole and a cocky son of a bitch but he is an addiction...your filthy addiction, and you wouldn’t have it or him any other way.

-------------------------

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328 notes · View notes

korijime · 3 years

Note

Could you do a fic based on what Zhongli would do with a reader when it’s a rainy day? I was originally going to ask it to be based on the word petrichor but I decided that might be a bit hard so you can just do something with a rainy day.

—petrichor

(n.) the smell of the earth after rain

zhongli, genshin impact

fluff, rainy days, zhongli being peepaw, some stuff i made up for the sake of the story

wc ; one thousand seven hundred and thirty two

riyuu says ; MANN, i love rainy days so much. like i actually love them so much they make my entire day. i wanted to write something more modernish to fit my own headcanons but the thought of canon zhongli being all sweet with you on a rainy day,,,,aaaaahhhh, it’s a nice thing to think about.

thank you for the request!! i’m super sorry that this was posted so late, i was completely dead mentally for the past few weeks or so.

also it’s not,,proofread because again, i kinda died lmao

“and what have we here?”

he turned at the sound of your airy voice, nearly a gasp, as a small smile graced his lips when he saw your figure approaching the kitchen.

“what’s this?” you spoke, your widened eyes adding onto the comically surprised looking on your face.

zhongli chuckled lowly, your reaction to him getting a day off was always a delight. he approached you with slow steps, watching as your expression morphed into one of confused happiness. he leaned in, your breath hitching at how close he suddenly was, until he softly kissed your cheek while he took hold of the bags you carried.

“welcome home, my love. dinner’s almost ready.”

he carried the bags to the counter, getting to work once again. “i’ve prepared a bath for you, please get into it quickly, the risks of you falling ill are quite high.” it was true, it had been pouring all day, the main reason as to why hu tao had laid off all the employees of the parlour.

“ah, okay, alright, be careful.” was all you said before heading towards the bedroom, zhongli turned his head to watch you leave, making sure there weren’t any signs of dizziness or the kind.

you had expressed great interest in the soup he usually makes, so he had a pot stirring up his specialty, a slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup.

zhongli moved about in the kitchen, the muffled sound of your bathing calming him whenever he thought he would panic, and also providing background noise to the rather silent home.

while zhongli was supposedly finishing up his work in the kitchen, you stepped out of the bath, heart swelling at the sight of your most comfortable outfits laid out on the bed. no doubt, he planned all this.

you changed quickly, the aroma of the mist downright delicious food you could ever lay your eyes on, tempting you to hurry up and get to the dining area. once you did, you saw zhongli standing by an empty counter, untying his apron.

“need some help, grandfather?”

what escaped him were hearty chuckles that made your heart throb, you couldn’t help but laugh along, taking a seat at the table while zhongli walked over.

“you’re in a good mood, is there any particular reason to that?” he questioned, taking in another spoonful of soup.

you looked at him, and then towards the window. a deep, content sigh left your lips as you stretched lightly, the events of the day catching up to you.

“today was..a good day.”

you didn’t notice the way his eyes genuinely lit up once you uttered those words, a gentle smile caressing his lips as he watched your form.

“do share, i love to hear you speak of your experiences.”

you nodded, immediately going off into a tangent as you recalled your entire day as though it were an old memory. zhongli simply watched your actions, watched your lips move and watched your eyes light up when something particularly good happened, the way you used your hands to speak as much as you used your voice.

your voice, one he would liken to the song of the glaze lilies, soft in moments like these, soft when it needs to be, harsh and quick when the situation calls for it. he loved it all the same, since it was a part of you, a defining feature of yours, he would say. far and few beings are blessed with a unique voice, you being one of them.

“and they both agreed! i mean, xiangling is one thing yanfei!? honestly, she’s just like hu tao but in private, i bet.”

he could only laugh as you went into the intricacies of how you thought yanfei and hu tao were similar, “they probably come up with schemes when no one’s looking!”

you moved on to how the exorcist and his friend had once again caused a scene at wanmin, zhongli urging you to continue as he put away the dishes. you had stopped here and there, joining him in his chores, not to help him with said chores, but to distract him.

you ran your had sup his spine, and he only responded with an amused look. you continued telling him about how you had bumped into xinyan as you tried to take away his attention by kissing his cheeks in the middle of your words.

zhongli only responded with amused smiles, as he always did. it had become a game of sorts, you trying to break his stoicism, to catch him off guard. it had never worked, but you still tried nonetheless.

“hey, zhongli?”

“hm?”

you shuffled in his arms, turning so that your chest was against his, placing your chin in your arms crossed against his chest. you looked up at him tired eyes. his golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom, watching your every move intently. you had more often than not commented on how intense his state was, how it seemed to see right through you.

“tell me a story.”

he tilted his head at your request, closing his eyes and humming. you fell silent, resting your head against his chest, feeling as though you were being lulled to sleep by his firm heartbeat.

a strike of lightning resounded throughout the area, effectively startling you. not so much as to scare you, per se, but enough to make you keep your eyes open.

you stared outside the open window of your bedroom, the silk curtains pulled aside to provide a magnificent view of liyue during the monsoon.

rain pounded on the rooftops; from the height at which your home was situated, you could see people running for shelter, some even playing in the rain. you could barely make out a pink-looking figure amongst the rain, a smile forming on your lips as you watched a tiny yanfei dance in the rain.

“it is said that storms, rainstorms, specifically, symbolise rebirth, and renewal. in ancient times, people believed harsh rainstorms to symbolise the rebirth of an ancient deity, one of the divine who had faded away with the passage of time. they would rejoice, knowing that a lost divine walked this land again, no matter form they may be assuming.”

your eyes had been trained on zhongli as soon as he started speaking, watching as he rest his head against the headboard, eyes closed as if recalling an old memory, voice coming out as the words of a wise man, one who has experienced firsthand the tales he relays to others.

“is that so? did those ever beliefs change?”

he lifted his head, looking down at you with glittering eyes. a small smile pulled on his lips, you figured he was thinking of how to phrase his next words.

“it is said that once, the beloved of a powerful deity met their untimely demise, at which the god had mourned, had shook the foundations of this very land due to his grief. he had cried out, cursing the heavens above for stripping him of his loved one.”

“his..partner?”

“a dear friend, some assume they had a closer relationship, but evidence suggests they were nothing more than companions.”

“did something happen after their death?”

“a miracle, or so people say. a few years after their death, the land faced a storm they couldn’t foresee. a storm that threatened to wash away their homes, their lives, along with the very land they laid their lives upon.

a rainstorm that, after threatening to decimate an entire civilisation, bore the delicious fruits of spring that outshined any that came before. the flowers bloomed as though they were shining, the animals danced through the woods and were more open to revealing themselves to humans, the land flourished and the people rejoiced. the incident further solidified the belief that a rainstorm signifies rebirth, with changes, as well.

a storm that brings destruction and gloom signifies the rebirth of a deity long forgotten, staking thee revenge on the world who dared to forget them. a storm that brings prosperity, however, signifies the rebirth of one loved by the gods, whose love for the gods and their land allowed their reincarnation to bring prosperity to the land.”

“hmm, is that right? there haven’t been any recent occurrences, have there?”

“well, no. which is a good thing, yes? no deity being forgotten, no loved ones leaving their immortal companions, it’s a nice thought.”

“do you think anything like that will happen anytime soon?”

“..perhaps, it’s a possibility.”

“elaborate?” you said as you tilted your head, looking up at him with a grin. he returned your smile, lost in thought for a few moments before speaking again.

“i’d say, a few years after either you become one with the old souls of this world, it will see true calamity. and then, in the aftermath, liyue shall receive the most decimating rain it has ever received in several millennia, which will leads to the most prosperity the land will ever experience.”

“haa, why is that? why after my death?”

he pulled you up, so that your face was close to his. he ran a finger along your jaw, his forehead resting on yours.

“if you die at the hands of another, i will make sure their suffering shall be equivalent, one they’ll remember in every reincarnation.

to take the life of a god no easy feat, and even then, they shall return, sooner or later. to take the life of one loved by a god is a sin, one that condemns the land into an age of dread and fear.

trust me, my love, the thought of you dying pains me more than the death of rex lapis pained the nation of liyue.

but worry not, we gods don’t take kindly to being separated from those we love.”

he smiled, as he spoke, his confidence never once wavering and every word he spoke resounding with your very soul.

“shall you die, the ones responsible shall wish for death in every reincarnation.”

was the last thing he said before capturing your lips with his, showing you he truly meant what he said.

gods don’t take kindly to being stripped of the things they love, the petrichor may be calming yet the cause of such a calming atmosphere will be one that mortals will speak of for eternity.

tagged ; @t-amajiki @tokyoghoose @lcaita @tartagliaxx

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #zhongli genshin impact

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peachpitfics · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Summary: Every year Rossi holds a Christmas Eve dinner, the Team and their little families attend. This is your first one, and coincidentally, you get caught under the mistletoe.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: SpencerReid x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: ~none~

A/N: Hiiii, this is super fluffy and sweet. Hopefully the first of a few Christmas themed fics. I hope you like it!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You never had anywhere to go for the holidays. You had no real family, moved to a new state, and joined a new force only a few weeks ago. The new team you worked with was a tight knit family. They had been together for years and while they were welcoming and did their best not to exclude you, it was hard to bear the inside jokes and recalling of memories you were not a part of. What shocked and surprised you most about their bond, was the family Christmas held at Rossi’s huge house. Everyone, and their families would come, eat a glorious Christmas dinner, and spend it together.

You rang the doorbell and stood, rugged up on the doorstep, huge wooden and glass double doors in front of you. Dave answered the door, arms wide open as he took you in a loving embrace. “Thanks for inviting me” You shuffled into the house awkwardly, passing Rossi two bottles of wine as he showed you where you could shed your winter coverings. Rossi’s house was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. You were sure it had to have been professionally done. “Thank you y/n, this is great. I’m so glad you could make it out here tonight” Dave beamed at you, “And you look beautiful”. You hadn’t put too much effort in tonight but dressed nicely for dinner at least. What he said made you blush; you hid your face as he led you into the dining room. “Hey! Looks who’s here” Morgan smiled across the table. Garcia, sitting next to him, waving overly excitedly. You waved back, clearly not having had any eggnog. As you sat down, in between Hotch and JJ, Hotch poured eggnog into your glass and clinked glasses with you. “We’re just waiting on the kid, he said he was on the phone with his Mom. But he should be almost here” Rossi shared with them.

They all sat around the table, laughing at Garcia who was intoxicated, conversing over Christmas memories from their childhood. Not all of them were overly happy memories, just thoughts of a simpler time. “What about you, y/n? Favourite Christmas memory from when you were a child?” Hotch asked. Emily looked worriedly at you, she had been the one you spoke to and got to know out of everybody. “Well... um” Clearing your throat, you paused as Spencer walked in and slipped into his seat beside Garcia and across from you. “Yeah, okay. I think I was about 8... I was in my second group home and there were about 15 kids of all different ages. The church choir stopped by to sing carols to us in the evening; and, uh, we had a roast chicken, a lot of us had never experienced Christmas before so it was pretty wonderful. The church also brought us a box of second-hand toys, which was lovely. I think that’s probably the best one” Everyone stared at you in awe. The type of awe you were dreading. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat as they started to notice that the staring was out of control. “I didn’t know you were a foster kid” Morgan said somberly, having grown up in an area with a lot of foster kids himself. “Yeah, I was. It wasn’t so bad” You smiled softly, begging someone to take the attention off of you. “Sorry I’m late, you guys, my Mother was reminiscing about Christmas in 1969” Spencer chuckled awkwardly. And that was the end of it, their focus was changed, and Spencer was explaining his Mother’s story, which in turn was quite boring.

Within 30 minutes, Rossi and several servers emerged from the kitchen, bringing platters and large bowls and more wine. It was the most extravagant thing you’d seen in your whole life. I’ve never even been a restaurant this nice, you thought to yourself, watching as they served. Rossi held in his hands an exceptionally large knife, whilst standing over the bird, gathering everyone’s attention. “For me, Christmas means being with family. Sharing it with you, makes it the most precious and special time of the year” Rossi paused, “To family”. Everyone raised their glasses and repeated the toast back to him. He carved the meat, and you all passed the fixings round the table. It was the most delicious food you’d ever had. You began to wonder if everyone with a family had a lovely Christmas like this every year.

Before long, the kids were playing hide and seek throughout the house as all the adults made their way into the awesomely large sitting room. Everyone gathered around, sitting in the settee’s or on the rug by the fireplace. “Anyone care for brandy and a cigar?” Rossi asked. “Am I in a game of Clue?” Garcia looked around the room, “Where the hell is Miss Scarlet, I want to ask her some questions”. People snickered at her comments, she got more sarcastically funny as she got further intoxicated. “No seriously, would anyone like a drink?” Rossi stood by his sideboard bar, crystal decanters lined up with matching glasses. “Scotch, for me Dave, thank you” Hotch nodded. “I’ll take one of those as well” Emily smiled. “Not for me, I’m driving” Will grinned at JJ, hoping she would have another drink and let her hair down a little. You noticed this and nudged JJ in the side, “I brought more wine” You raised your eyebrows cheekily at her.

She looked long and hard into your eyes, really thinking over how hectic the headache was going to be in the morning. “Screw it” She mumbled, caving in to your devilish look, “Go get the wine” She lightly tapped your arm. “Oh no, come on y/n, I’ll go” Rossi offered. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way back or anything” You giggled, jumping up from the floor and heading towards the big arch way through to the foyer. “Hey, y/n!” Spencer stopped you in the doorway, “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” He asked in a soft tone. You nodded happily; it was an easy request.

“Hold on...” Hotch said quickly. They all stared at you again. “You can’t move” Hotch smiled gently, “You’re under the mistletoe”. Everyone laughed and gaped as Hotch caught you out under the mistletoe. “What do you mean I can’t move?” You laughed, as if this were a silly game. “In the Rossi house, if you pause under mistletoe and get caught out, you have to wait there until someone kisses you” Dave explained. Obviously Hotch had been caught before and was now pointing out Rossi’s next victim. “Who’s gonna do it?” Garcia looked intrigued, waiting for the war between them to begin while you stood there, knees shaking at the thought of having to kiss someone on the team. “Well, I’m out” Rossi said, having reconnected with an old lover recently. Will and JJ snuggled closer together, that was an obvious no. Hotch uncomfortably sat back into the settee, smiling cheekily into his glass.

A few faces turned to Morgan. “Hey now, that’s usually my style, but I’m seein’ somebody at the moment” Morgan shrugged, hoping Penelope wouldn’t pull him apart over the comment he made. Which inevitably, she did. “Can’t I just go to the kitchen, come on, this is silly” You spoke over them, they were discussing among them who should be the one to kiss you and set you free from the nasty grip of the mistletoe. “It’s gotta be Reid” Emily’s voice rang out over all of the incoherent babbling.

Spencer had been laughing and watching this unfold around him, blending into the leather settee like a chameleon. Now that the faces turned to him, he flushed red and he eyes grew wider. “Ha ha, you guys” Spencer tried to redirect, blushing madly “Emily, it’s you! You know it’s you” He laughed awkwardly. “It could be me; I just don’t really think that’s y/n’s speed... whereas you...” She let the rest of the team join in on the end. “Yeah I don’t think she swings that way” JJ looked back at Emily, shaking their heads together negatively. “Which leaves you Spencer, everyone else is attached at the moment” Hotch's voice seemed confident and firm, but had a hint of a giggle in it.

This started to seem like a set up to you, everyone was grimacing, smirking up at you. No one else tonight had been caught under mistletoe and there was no shortage of it in this house. You crossed your arms in front of you and lovingly glared back at each of them. “Come on Spence” JJ grabbed his knee and shook it, as if this provided some sort of moral support. “Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!” Penelope started a chant and within seconds, they had all joined in. “Okay! Okay, okay, you can stop doing that now. The peer pressure has worked” Spencer’s face couldn’t not smile. His cheeks tugged tightly at his lips, and though his face was red, he looked pleasantly excited. Reid stepped over JJ and slowly approached the door frame. He got closer to you, looked into your eyes, and pursed his lips, eyes widening as if to say, “This is weird”. He rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands awkwardly in his pockets. You remained still, one eyebrow raised in shock, arms still folded in front of you. “Come on pretty boy, we haven’t got all night” Morgan teased, Garcia gripping onto him, her eyes as wide as possible so she didn’t miss anything.

In an instant, he lunged forward, a hand landing on your cheek and one at the small of your back. Spencer planted his lips onto yours, you could almost feel him smiling into it. Your arms softened and untangled as they found their way onto his chest in front of you. As you parted, the embarrassing hail of whoops and clapping arose. Spencer stepped back giggling, hiding his face from his colleagues. You pursed your lips together and held your fingers to your lips briefly, surprised at how good that felt. “I’m gonna go grab that wine now” You blushed, laughing along with the hyenas in the sitting room. Pausing slowly at the fridge, your head hitting the metal, you exhaled from deep in your lungs. Never in your life did you think you would be in such a position. But you were happy and almost grateful for your embarrassing workmates.

You returned with the wine, rose coloring still in your cheeks. Spencer was now playing with the kids under one of the many Christmas trees and you retook your position on the rug with JJ and Will, pouring them both a glass of white wine. No one teased anymore, no one laughed. There were just separate pods of conversation. Eventually, after picking up sleepy children off the couches in the lounge room, JJ and Will were thanking Rossi for such a lovely evening. Hotch not far behind with Jack. Those that were left were Morgan and Penelope, desperately arguing over whether or not ‘Die Hard’ was a Christmas film. Rossi and Emily, who were debating finer Scotches and Whiskeys. You watched on, amused by their friendships, and longing to be one of them. Until you noticed that Spencer had gone. You got up from the rug and wondered through the house, finding him on the balcony off the dining room.

You unlatched the door, alerting him to your presence. “Hey” He smiled softly at you. “Hey” You sounded unsure, “I’m sorry if that was super weird for you in there”. He chuckled under his breath slightly as you approached and stood next to him in the cold night air. “You know, I thought it would be... But it was... nice” He nodded, tucking his smile into his scarf. You tried to look away, hiding the permanent smile plastered on your face. “It was nice” You said gently. Spencer turned towards you, and unintentionally looked you up and down, “You must be so cold” He said, shedding his coat and draping it across your shoulders. You looked at the soft brown tweed and curled your nose, “But now, you’ll be cold”. “Doesn’t matter” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Spencer I-” He interrupted quickly, “Can I have a do over?”. “Sorry, what?” You shook off whatever you were going to say and clarified you heard him correctly. “I just- I would have kissed you differently, had they not set me up and cheered like an audience” He closed his eyes, “ I would have kissed you differently”.

Without saying anything, you slid your icy cold hand into his. Warmth radiated from his large hands as his fingers slid between yours. You pulled his hand and turned him to face you. “You can kiss me again” You mumbled. His eyes were so dark and deep, he held eye contact with you, bringing his face slightly down to meet you in the middle. His soft lips, tripping over yours hungrily. His breath warm on your face. His tender hands, not so gingerly on respectful places on your body like before. One hand slid up to your neck, lightly holding on, but eventually wrapping around to grasp the back of your neck. His other hand placed further south of the small of your back, pulling your whole body into him as his tongue delved into your mouth. You tried to move your hands, you tried to do anything, but your brain was completely overwhelmed and stunned by the warmth and pleasure washing over you.

He pulled away, kissing your cold nose, along your jawline. Pressing on last kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Your body sunk into him. Even without his jacket, he was still so warm, and it was so inviting. You wrapped your arms around his back and held onto him as tightly as he held onto you. “This is a better Christmas story than the one I told before” You muttered at a giggle into his woolen jumper. Spencer smiled into the nape of your neck. “God, I hope so” He laughed, and you felt his whole body move against yours. After a while, you parted and just stood snuggled together on the balcony. “They really set us up, big time” You pondered. “I can’t believe Emily blabbed” Spencer shook his head. You looked sharply up at him. “Blabbed?” You asked confusedly. “Yeah... I kind of told her I had a crush on you” He tried to hide his face but you wouldn’t let him, you grabbed his hand and held it in your own. “Oh my god” That same old shocked expression was strewn back across your face. “I know, it’s super embarrassing and I’m sorry I didn’t -“ You interrupted him this time, “No, Spencer, I told Emily I had a crush on you” You said quickly, without thinking.

Both of you, stunned, really thought about how devious Emily was. Why did we do that? You asked yourself; the answer quite simply was, she was a very open person and people often told her their secrets. “I guess, I’m glad I told her” Spencer smiled, “Because otherwise I never would have got to kiss you”. You leaned up to his lips and kissed him again. “Now, you can kiss me anytime you want” You whispered to him, that gorgeous smile still fighting its way onto his face.

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Inside, Emily and Rossi stood in the doorway of the dining room, peering out onto the Balcony like a pair of sneaky teenagers. They had been watching for several minutes, and though they couldn’t hear the conversation, they knew they were busted for setting the whole thing up. “Thanks again, Dave” Em raised his glass of scotch to Dave’s brandy, both of them grinning like school girls. “Absolutely anytime, my dear” They clinked glasses and walked steadily back into the sitting room, arms around each other.

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kth1 · 4 years

Text

Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally.

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top.

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles.

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers.

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.”

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam.

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest.

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day.

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster.

Another day, another play.

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards.

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts.

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight.

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.”

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand.

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you.

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.”

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms.

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.”

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture.

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!”

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner.

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.”

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.”

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them.

“Not everything is about being physical.”

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off.

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual.

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!”

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!”

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck.

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him.

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl.

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.”

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?”

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind.

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig.

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view.

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash.

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit.

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.”

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile.

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.”

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying.

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell.

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples.

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you.

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things.

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up.

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself.

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended.

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside.

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him.

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.”

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night.

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party.

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face.

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute.

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.”

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.”

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.”

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops.

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him.

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words.

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.”

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling.

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution.

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips.

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural.

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok.

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.”

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck.

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning.

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team.

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level.

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on.

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch.

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.”

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water.

“Titty-twisters.”

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him.

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...”

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!”

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.”

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming.

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild.

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around.

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually.

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck.

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice.

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass.

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown.

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus.

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!”

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest.

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.”

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi.

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.”

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile.

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face.

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.”

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.”

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.”

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss.

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.”

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.”

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length.

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers.

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home.

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night.

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth.

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind.

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat.

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state.

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks.

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system.

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear.

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?”

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.”

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools.

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.”

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.”

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!”

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter.

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin.

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work.

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making.

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most.

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better.

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares.

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you.

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?”

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.”

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end.

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter.

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper.

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him.

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well.

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game.

And it was working.

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it.

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?”

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands.

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area.

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net.

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court.

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered.

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead.

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage.

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies.

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable.

#houseofddaeng #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #suganetwork #armysource #bangtanarmynet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #one shot #kimtaehyunq #cut shot

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random-tinies · 3 years

Text

Crowza - 2

Hey, I’m on AO3 too! It’ll be the first thing updated when I finish a chapter from now on, but only by like, a few hours. :P I’ll be updating this fic on the first of every month so you guys know when to expect it next. This was sitting in my Docs almost done for weeks and I finally sat down and went “I’m writing the rest of this.” and did it, so here’s chapter two!

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AO3 Link

Sunlight filters through the branches and leaves of the old oak. Phil lifts a wing over his face, grumbling about how the sun is always at the perfect angle to blind him every morning. Of course, he does this song and dance every spring. He’s not exactly an early bird, which is why he never blocks it. It helps him get up in the morning.

The tiny bird hybrid resigns to his fate and sits up, blinking blearily at his old home. A torn picture of his boys hangs on the far end of the hollow. He grins, happy to be greeted by their faces. The photo had been yoinked last year when it fell out of Tommy’s jacket during one of his more daring excursions. Always so chaotic, that one, Philza chuckles to himself as the thought crosses his mind. Good memories.

He walks to his stash of nuts and jerky and various other bits of food he collected and preserved the autumn before migration. He crafts a quick granola bar, thanking his lucky stars that chocolate is so easily preserved, and enjoys a sweet homemade breakfast. Pleased chirps escape him as he basks in the perfect simplicity of it all.

Today is full of plans. A lot can happen in a few months and Phil needs to make sure there’s no new predators in the area that might get the jump on him, so he’s going to patrol the area. His territory needs to be safe. He’s always very careful about going about this. It’s rare, but if humans decide to start building near him, he’d need to know.

That and he needs somewhere to get coffee. He’d think that centuries of drinking the stuff would convince him to invent a tiny coffee machine, but why create something that will break eventually when he can just sneak into a human’s house and borrow enough to last him a month of two? Of course, he won’t be borrowing that much today, but the next time all three boys leave the house, he’s certainly going to stock up. Today, he just needs a little pick-me-up.

Phil walks to the edge of his home and ducks under the branches protecting it from outsiders, then hops up them like a staircase to get the best vantage point to take off flying. A low mist hovers over the pine forest, the sun’s rays burning away at it and painting the morning in brilliant hues of gold. Phil launches himself into the air, powerful flaps disturbing the mist and sending him high above the trees. The sky above is void of clouds as he spreads his wings and coasts. The air he breathes chills his lungs but the morning sun provides a warm contrast to the feeling. Appreciation for the peace fills his chest as if it were something physical.

Spring truly is his favorite season. The crisp scent of pines and melting snow permeates the air. A few shy birds send their song up, declaring their presence to the world. This is home, this is where he loves to be, where he longs to be every winter when he has to migrate south. Occasionally, a crow joins him in the air, lazily flapping in the soft breeze.

Phil casts his eyes towards the ground, watching for any stray movements. He’d heard of mountain lions moving into the area from Kristin. They’re fleeing the forest fires west of them, she’d said. She thought maybe they were the cause of the odd feeling she has and Phil was inclined to agree, but you can never be too careful. Eventually, after finding nothing, he flies to the humble house his boys call home.

When the birdman reaches the cabin that houses his boys and nothing is amiss, he decides to land in a nearby tree and rest. The sun had climbed to about midday and he has yet to find anything that would tip him off. He fluffs his feathers as a chill sets in, the branches and needles of the tree warding off the sunlight, and takes out some squirrel jerky he packed for lunch. Perhaps it simply isn’t time to find this ominous omen Kristin gave him and he’s jumping the gun.

The door to the home opens and two people step out. It’s the blonde and brunette from the previous day. Philza watches them as they talk about something with low voices. It’s a bit odd to hear the youngest one talking so softly. Tommy’s usually boisterous and loud, throwing banter back and forth with Wilbur and giving the occasional sibling shove.

Philza hums as he takes another bite of jerky. When he goes on his coffee run inside the house, perhaps he’ll look for any clues. The thought that something could be wrong with them twists a knot of worry in his stomach. A chill goes down his spine as he realizes he hasn’t seen Techno out and about these last few days. He forgets any plans to raid the house later and throws all caution to the wind. Oh Ender, please let him be okay and not deathly ill or something.

Tommy and Wilbur climb into the red pickup next to their house and drive away. Phil immediately swoops down out of his tree and soars the short distance to the old cabin, flapping to slow himself so he can land quietly. It was his saving grace that they like to decorate the windows so he doesn’t crash into them all the time. He flap-hops around the house until he finds a window cracked open and slowly opens it further so he can crawl inside. It’s harder to find open windows further into the season since so many bugs come out.

He listens hard and looks around for any movement, staying stock still.

Nothing, the house is silent, save for the crackle of the fireplace.

He carefully steps in further, wings poised to take off at any given moment. The inside is just as cozy as the outside. The walls are decorated with photos of the trio, of a family Philza has watched grow up over the years. It’s surprisingly clean, the hand-knitted rainbow blanket folded over the back of the old leather couch. It smells like pine smoke and coffee, and bacon. Phil would find it funny if he wasn’t so worried for Techno at that moment. He hops about the living room, making his way towards the kitchen. If he can’t find anything here, he may as well get some coffee.

There’s nothing amiss on the coffee table. Phil’s claws leave tiny indentations on the softwood as he walks across it. The lamp next to him offers a little bit of light but he can see fine with the natural light coming through the windows. There’s an ad for an animal shelter in the newspaper, a comic making fun of teenagers with phones, news of the new president, and an article about a pipeline being built sometime next year. The birdman frowns at that, making a mental note. He’ll need to put an end to that before it ruins his home. He shakes his head. Right now is not the time! He needs to see if there’s anything wrong! His gaze gets caught by the fashion magazine open to a page on robes and turns a few pages, admiring the modern clothes that differ so much from his own- Oh right! Techno!

He flaps into the kitchen and trots across the counter towards the calendar hanging on the fridge. Today is circled in red with the word “ADOPTION” in messy, bold lettering. Adoption? Techno and Wilbur aren’t married, right? They can’t adopt children, right? Confusion replaces the worry in his mind but he shrugs. As far as Phil can tell by all the clues, Techno isn’t in any danger and it’s safe to get some coffee from the pot on the counter opposite of him. He hops over and crouches on the edge, dipping his rabbit-skin waterskin in and filling it full of the delicious drug.

There’s a cough from upstairs in the attic and Philza nearly jumps out of his skin. His feet slip on the edge of the pot and his wings flare out to make up for the sudden loss of balance. The mug next to him falls off the counter and shatters on the linoleum flooring with a loud crash. Oh god, oh fuck. There’s no way Techno didn’t hear that. The bird hybrid quickly reaches into the pot and retrieves his waterskin and swiftly flies back to the window, heart pounding.

He knows he’s leaving a few feathers behind, but it doesn’t matter as long as he himself doesn’t get caught. He can hear the telltale creaks of a ladder as he takes off into the open air again, inhaling deeply and landing back in his tree. What was he thinking?! Going to check on one of the beans?! He put himself in unnecessary danger just for some person he got way too attached to!

From the safety of his branch, Phil watches Techno shut the window he’d made his escape from. The piglin hybrid seems fine, no hint of any severe illnesses. The cough didn’t even sound that bad, like he was just clearing his throat. That was too close. He can’t let it happen again. Phil takes a swig of his coffee and flies off to keep scouting out his territory. I’m going to give myself a nice preen tonight, he thinks as he coasts over the trees. That nearly gave me a heart attack.

He goes back to doing his routine check-ups and patrolling around his territory, promising himself he would do better to keep himself safe. Surely he’s not losing his edge, right? Surely not…

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berriusagi · 3 years

Text

Stomach Bug Ch3

Future Plans

Thank you everyone who’s reading this fic and enjoying it. It really means a lot that you guys like this fic so much.

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Everything settled down once Alfred stepped in the announce dinner, Jason was forced to relinquish Marinette so she could regain her footing and settle her stomach. Damian helped steady her as she took a few slow deep breaths to calm her stomach. Dick still much too animated, was herding the two youngest into the dining room where the table was filled with a large array of food plates set out and silverware pristine.

Damian helped her to a seat beside himself making sure she was comfortable before taking his seat much to the amusement of his family. “What?” he glared, catching his family all staring at him with a mix of glee and surprise.

“Oh nothing, just didn’t take you for a helicopter boyfriend.” Jason chuckled taking his seat and started to pile his plate full of Alfred’s amazing cooking.

“She’s pregnant, she should be careful.” Damian glared filling his and Marinette’s plate with all the vegetarian options he could find.

Marinette sighed softly watching Damian’s antics, a small smile on her face as he set her plate down in front of her, “Thank you Dami.” She whispered trying hard to ignore the three brothers across from her making exaggerated cooing and gagging noises at them

Bruce shook his head a fond smile on his face as everyone got their food and settled in to eat a comfortable silence falling over them as everyone enjoyed the meal. Of course, this is the Wayne household so silence never lasted long and it was Bruce to break it this time.

“So, Marinette why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself and you’re planning now that you’re pregnant, what do you plan to do for school?” Bruce asked sipping on some wine as he watched the two youngest.

“Schooling won’t be a problem. I was already doing online classes, so it won’t be a problem keeping up with my classes. As for the future I just want to do what is best for the baby and my future.” She smiled sipping on some water.

“And we’ll be there to help her out every step of the way,” Harley grinned, reaching over to ruffle Marinette’s hair.

“Of course, however, we should discuss her living arrangements.” Bruce nodded, setting his glass down pointedly ignoring his three eldest dramatically rolling their eyes and their comments of, ‘oh Christ’ and ‘he has to stop at some point.’

Harley just looked him in the eye and crossed her arms, “She will be living with her mothers, we can provide for her just fine Bruce. She should remain somewhere she is familiar with and comfortable so she doesn’t stress herself out.”

“I understand that, however, I’d very much like to get to know my son’s girlfriend and would like to know that she always has someone with her.” Bruce said eyeing both women at his table, “I don’t mean to sound rude but you two are well-known guests at Arkham.”

“Ivy and I haven’t gotten thrown into Arkham since we got Marigold,” Harley glared, getting to her feet, “And I don’t like your tone you are not just going to swoop in and take my daughter just because she’s carrying your grandchild Bruce. She is staying at home with us where we can help her and make sure she is happy and comfortable.”

“I don’t mean to insult Harley.” Bruce said, raising his hands in a calming manner, “I want what is best for her as much as you. We can get her a private doctor who won’t go to the press if they find out whose child she is carrying. We can watch over her in the event of you two having to handle up on other matters of less legal means.”

Tension filled the room as the kids watched Harley and Bruce go back and forth with their arguments and reasoning for why it would be best for Marinette to live with them as opposed to the other. Jason seemed greatly entertained enjoying the show while Dick seemed to want to play mediator trying to cut in but failing each time as they just grew louder. It wasn’t long until the room was filled with Bruce’s stern voice and Harley’s animated accented speech.

“Maman,” Marinette shouted, effectively shutting down the argument as Harley turned to look at Marinette, “Maybe we can compromise?” she asked a bit quietly.

Harley sighed, sitting down, and waved her hand signaling for Marinette to continue as she grabbed a roll biting into it as she waited for Marinette to say her piece.

Marinette took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts before turning to look at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, do you want me to live here?” she asked, getting his nod of confirmation, “Maman, and Mum you still want me to stay at home?” she added looking over at Harley and Ivy getting their nods as well.

She nodded, taking another moment, “How about we have a sort of… custody agreement?” she asked, trying to think of the proper words, “All my schoolwork and projects are at home and I don’t want to completely relocate this late in the year. I can still stay with my moms’ during the week and on the weekend I can stay here. On holidays all of us can come over and spend the break here.” She said looking between the adults, “That way I’m still with my moms and you all can still get to know me and you can keep your eyes on me since no one thinks I can function now that I’m pregnant.”

The adults fell into silence thinking the proposal over. Harley let out a sigh letting her head fall back in her seat, “I suppose it’ll do but if anything happens to you while you’re here we are locking you in your room away from Bruce.” She quickly threw in.

“And if either of you end up in Arkham then she’s being moved to the manor immediately.” Bruce tacked on staring the two women down.

“So… doesn’t everyone agree to the terms?” Marinette asked, looking between the two a bit warily as they continued to stare each other down.

“It’s a good compromise.” Ivy said putting a hand on Harley’s arm, “Right Bruce?”

“Yes it is,” Bruce nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from Harley to look at Marinette, “I’ll have Alfred prepare a room for you.”

Marinette nodded a soft smile on her face as the tension began to leave the room as everyone went back to quietly eating. Until Jason decided to cut in, “You met Demon Spawn through a pen pal assignment, right? How’d that go?”

Marinette giggled softly as Damian got this slightly pained look on his face at the mention of how they met. “I used to go to school in Paris, we had a pen pal assignment. We would send letters back and forth at first it was only for the assignment. I’ll admit I wasn’t aware he was from a well-known wealthy family and since it was just for school we didn’t share many personal details at the beginning.” She admitted.

“What was it that caused the snowball?” Damian asked, leaning back trying to remember.

“You mentioned in your letter that you were in the middle of a feud with your brothers because one of them threatened to eat Batcow and another hid Jerry the Turkey around Thanksgiving.” Marinette said giggling at the memory, “I was so confused that you had farm animals, and then the next letter you sent pictures of your animals. I still have them in an old photo album somewhere.”

“From there we just started talking more when the assignment was due to end she sent me her email and we continued to talk through that later it turned into video calls then we swapped numbers when she came to Gotham.” Damian finished pointedly ignoring his brothers looking at him as if he was a clone.

“Why did you move to Gotham?” Dick asked looking at Marinette a bit curious, “Not many people pick Gotham when they’re looking for new places to live.”

“I came to Gotham because that’s where my moms live. They adopted me a little over a year ago and I was flown out here once the adoption was all finished.” She said her formerly bright and happy smile fading away to a more somber one.

“You mentioned projects.” Jason quickly cut in drawing Marinette’s attention, “are they school projects or hobbies?”

“Oh, they’re commissions for an online store I have. I like to keep them in one spot part of why I don’t want to leave home just yet it’ll take a while to properly pack everything up so nothing is ruined.” She smiled a bit of her shine coming back, “I run a small online boutique and make clothing. The sweater and jeans I’m wearing I actually made. I don’t often buy premade clothing unless it’s to customize.”

Once the sudden round of questioning came to an end other conversations began to flow smoothly after that everyone taking turns to ask a question or to throw out an answer. The tension from the previous custody argument seemingly forgotten as the Wayne boys took turns trying to learn as much about Marinette as possible. However, Marinette made it a tad difficult for them to get any real personal information on her as she seemed to masterfully skirt around certain questions while making it seem like she wasn’t dodging the question.

If anyone noticed her doing so they didn’t comment on it. Soon the plates were cleared away and Alfred was coming out with a plate stacked with macarons of multiple colors and flavors. Alfred walked around and set down a few macarons on everyone’s plate before disappearing back into the kitchen with a few leftovers for him to enjoy. Everyone kindly thanked Marinette for bringing the dessert even though she didn’t have to as they each picked up their cookie to take a bite.

Soft chatter began to fill as the boys began complimenting Marinette on the macarons as they all enjoyed the sweet cookies. “These are delicious Marinette where did you learn to make them?” Dick asked his cheeks ballooned out like a chipmunk as he chewed.

Marinette giggled happiness filling her as everyone enjoying her dessert, “I grew up in a bakery most of my life so baking is just second nature at this point.” she smiled, “I usually make bread for the week on sundays so it’s one less thing we have to worry about getting at the store.” she added.

The Wayne boys nodded as they enjoyed the cookies and continued with their previous attempt of questioning Marinette though didn’t get very far once again. Marinette seemed to know how to handle questioning quite well to answer a question by not giving an answer at all and it didn’t even bother them.

All too soon dinner came to an end and the Isley-Quinzels had to leave so that Marinette could get to sleep for her classes in the morning. They all stood at the front door saying their good-byes and planning when best to drop Marinette off on the upcoming Friday. “We’ve also already found her an OB-GYN we’ll send over the information and when we have appointments settled we’ll be sure to notify you if we keep this doctor,” Ivy said as she pulled on her coat.

“You trust this doctor?” he asked looking at her as the boys were busy trying to say their good-byes to Marinette.

“We won’t know for sure until we’re in her office. Marinette is a good judge of character if she doesn’t trust the doctor then we won’t continue to go to them.” Ivy said as Marinette kissed Damian on the cheek before coming over to join them, “We’ll keep you informed on how everything goes but we won’t be able to set up an appointment until sometime next week.”

He nodded and opened the door for them, “You three have a safe night and I’ll see you on Friday Marinette.” Bruce smiled gently patting her back as she nodded following her mother’s out.

“Have a nice evening Mr. Wayne.” She smiled softly up at him as they all left heading down the stairs as Bruce closed the door and turned to face his sons. He let out a tired sigh watching as they all seemed to be ganging up on Damian trying to interrogate him about Marinette to learn as much as they could before Friday rolled around.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @killer-frost-ladybug @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #Stomach Bug

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ginger-and-mint · 3 years

Note

Hey, I'm wondering if you have any advice on writing kink stuff? Basically, it feels like I'm writing the same story repeatedly. Coming up with stuffing scenarios that both make sense, and aren't just retreads, is really hard. It probably doesn't help that a) I don't have much writing experience, b) my interests are really narrow, and c) I have no imagination, lol. How do you keep stuff fun and interesting? (Jsyk, I sent this to Tiny as well, I love both your blogs 😊)

Hey, anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoy my and Tiny’s content and I’m flattered to be asked for advice! ♡ I have a lot of thoughts about this, so I’ll do my best to boil them down into something useful.  ^^

Since you mentioned being pretty new to writing, I broke up my advice into a few different ��stages,” starting with things that are easy to implement and moving to things that might feel more manageable as you get more comfortable with writing. Under a cut because Real Heckin Long. 

Stage One — Don’t Sweat It

This might sound corny and unhelpful, but I genuinely think that especially when you’re first starting out, it’s best not to put pressure on yourself to write the world’s most original stories. Write to please your inner fiend and nobody else! If repeated versions of the same story continue to light your fire, there’s no shame in embracing that.

Doing this will honestly help you with originality in the long-term anyway, because you’re giving yourself the freedom to learn more about what specifics you really enjoy in kink writing. Later on, you can use that knowledge to put new twists on those specifics and invent new scenarios.

Stage Two — Stuffing Scenario Cheat Sheet

I completely agree that believable stuffing scenarios are really difficult to invent. What’s realistic is a matter of opinion of course, but for me, this is a quick breakdown of logical reasons for a character to overeat. If you’re getting tired of using the same justification in your fics, try picking something new from this list:

Accidental stuffing:

Character is distracted by something during the meal

Character eats so fast they don’t realize when they’re full

Character has been hungry for awhile and overdoes it when they finally get to eat

Reluctant intentional stuffing (motivated by external circumstances):

Character feels social pressure to keep eating **

The food will go to waste otherwise **

Eating contests / challenges **

The character is trying to bulk up

Enthusiastic intentional stuffing (because the character wants to):

Character just enjoys the feeling of being full

Character and/or their partner(s) have a stuffing kink

Character has temporary access to good food and is indulging while they can

Fantasy Shenanigans:

Side effects of being a magical creature (e.g. a werewolf eating too much for their human form to handle, a vampire needing to feed all at once, etc.)

Magic that causes a character to overeat (e.g. enchanted food, curses, potions, etc.)

Magic that requires a full stomach and/or extra energy to work (e.g. my di-mage spell mechanics, the antidote in this fic of Tiny’s, etc.)

[free space because fantasy lets you set the boundaries of what’s realistic, so your imagination is really the limit!]

** If you’re aiming for realism, I would be careful of these scenarios. In my opinion, they can be done believably, but often are not. Some things I would look out for:

Most foods can easily be stored for later, so if you want to use the “avoiding waste” trope, make sure that you’re either in a setting without access to refrigeration or that the food is something that genuinely wouldn’t keep until the next day (or at least would be way less tasty after a night in the fridge.)

Social pressure works best in scenarios with people that the to-be-stuffed character 1) doesn’t know very well and 2) wants to impress or keep face around (e.g. formal events, business dinners, first dates that involve food, meeting their partner’s family, etc.)

Loving friends, family, and partners don’t pressure or guilt people into overeating! Characters stuffing themselves because their loved ones are really insistent that they have to taste-test everything or act so disappointed because they went to all this work on some extravagant feast always ring at best false and at worst abusive to me. What kind of loving relationship is it if you don’t feel safe to say “no thanks, I’m full?” That’s not to say social pressure with loved ones can’t be done well, but it usually indicates some kind of character flaw (i.e. an inability to say no and/or a steamroller-y personality) that in my opinion, has to be acknowledged by the fic’s end if you want the tone to stay light and fluffy.

Again, this may just be my opinion, but eating contests only come across as realistic with certain character personalities and in certain contexts. Like yeah, I can believe that a himbo with YouTuber Energy would take on a hot wing eating challenge in front of all his bros, but not so much that an otherwise self-respecting character would drop everything to eat themselves sick because a friend randomly challenged them.

Stage Three — Change Up Other Elements When Using Similar Tropes 

Especially if you have narrow interests, it’s probably inevitable you’ll write same basic story structure over and over. I know I sure do! However, I would say that changing other elements of the narrative can give your writing an entirely different feel, turning it into a whole new story that will not feel like a simple retread to a reader.

One thing you can change up is setting. A lot of times kink writers will just plonk characters in the comfort of their own homes, which is valid — but setting hugely influences the atmosphere of a story, so the same Kink Plot will read really differently if it happens, say, at a campground or on a boat. Providing a rich setting can even become a feature of the kink itself. For example, setting your story at a lavish buffet could introduce an element of indulgence that hits you and/or readers differently than a story that involves casual takeout in the living room, even if the rest of the story is similar. Try bold settings! They’re fun!

Another element to vary is context. For example, the basic trope of “stress eating” would play out really differently if a character is about to go on an important mission vs. if they’re recovering from an emotionally difficult day; a story about about a character intentionally stuffing themselves will have a completely different flavor if they’ve been going hungry for awhile vs. they’ve been overeating all week; and so on. 

Finally, consider changing up the focus. An easy way to do this is to switch up whether you’re writing from the POV of the stuffed character or a caretaker. You can also focus on different details of the stuffing — for example, lingering on how delicious the food looks and tastes vs. how the character feels as their stomach fills vs. physical details like whether they’re getting bloated or grumbly.

Stage Four — Connect to Character or Plot

The most surefire way to make kink stories distinct is to give the story an additional purpose besides just being kinky. This doesn’t have to be some big, extravagant plot (although it certainly can be) — it can be a simple as writing a kink story the way you usually would, and just finding something within it that you can use to reveal an aspect of your character.

Start with an ordinary kink scenario and try to dive a little deeper. For example:

Say you want to write a story about stress eating. Okay — what is the character stressed about?

Maybe you come up with something relatively simple and generic, like school. Okay, what about this character makes them so likely to be stressed out by school? Are they a perfectionist? Are they facing a lot of pressure from their family? Do they have a goal that requires excellent grades? Have they struggled with this subject in the past?

Let’s say you decide to go with perfectionism. Now, what scenes can you use to show this struggle? And optionally, can you give the character some kind of resolution by the story’s end?

And there you go! Your fic now not only has kink, but also shows how your character reacts in a certain situation.

Character especially is a treasure trove of uniqueness, in my opinion, because well-developed characters react differently to the same scenario. Stories feel more original because even if a reader has read this exact same plot before, they will not have seen how this particular person handles it. So one of the best ways to make fics distinct is to spend time developing your characters!

If the goal is to simply write solid distinct kinky stories, trying to create detailed plot is more work with lower return than investing in your characters, if you ask me. You have to enjoy the process of creating plots itself for it to be worth it. If that’s something you’re interested in, I have a whole load more thoughts about that -- but since this is already incredibly long, I’ll save that for a separate ramble if anyone is specifically interested.

---

I hope something in this huge infodump is helpful to you! Some of it may sound intimidating if you’re just starting out with kink writing, but it’s absolutely all something that can be worked up to. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions if stuff I’ve written doesn’t make sense. Good luck with your writing, anon, and thanks for giving me an excuse to just go off. ^^’ ♡

#happy nice things #asks

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knivesareout · 3 years

Note

hello ‘tis i again, the humble anon. with another request but feel no pressure, i am still absolutely floored by the gorgeousness you delivered last night.

i would love another steve drabble but with the prompt: “If i have to pull over, you wont be able to walk for the next week.”

also if you’re not feeling it, feel free to tell me buzz off.

hi humble anon. i’m glad i could provide in a steve murphy fic void, honestly. there needs to be more and i’m happy to contribute what little (not so great) fic that i can.

i hope this is okay!!

pairing: steve murphy x afab!reader warnings: 18+!!!! female masturbation, general steve filth

It wasn’t often you and Steve got to have a night out to yourselves. More often than not, he was working late and by the time he got home, you were tucked in bed because you had an early shift the next day. So it’d been surprising when Steve had come home two nights ago, declaring that you were going out Saturday night to a restaurant someone at the embassy had recommended.

Dinner was good, great even. The food delicious and the atmosphere reminding you why you loved living in Colombia despite everything going on. Lately, it had started to feel like you and Steve were roommates more than husband and wife with how your schedules never seemed to align but the night out was a nice change, his hand in yours as you made your way back out to the jeep parked a block from the restaurant.

“How did you manage to get the time off for tonight?” you ask, leaning into Steve’s side as a cool breeze blew through you.

Steve pauses to think for a second before he answers, “Just kinda hit me that we haven’t seen much of each other. I had to beg Javi to switch weekends with me so now I have to bring his ass coffee every morning next week but, I think it was worth it.”

You agree quickly with a nod, leaning up a little to kiss under his jaw once you reach the truck and hop in, Steve opening the door for you. The restaurant was further than you realize once you start the drive home, watching the streetlights pass you by whirl Steve winds through the narrow roads.

Your gaze wanders over to him as he drives, his large hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. It was always attractive to you, watching Steve drive. Maybe it was the way the veins on his hand stood out against the back of his hand, or his long fingers wrapped around the plastic of the wheel, or his face set in concentration as he navigated. Whatever it was, it had your thighs pressing together in search of some sort of relief from the feeling taking over your body.

A wicked grin settles across your face as an idea comes to mind, thankful that you chose to wear a dress for your date and you turn your body across the bench seat of the truck, one leg straight out and you nudge Steve with the tip of your shoe, while the other dangles off the side. The touch causes Steve’s attention to turn towards you and he almost slams the breaks as he takes you in, your dress hiked high up your thighs and exposing the view of your unclothed pussy.

Steve rolls the truck to red light and he turns towards you, eyes wild. “What the hell are you doing?”

You shrug, hand trailing across your breasts through your dress and down to lay along the inside of your thigh. You can feel the heat radiating between your legs and your finger moves just enough to trail along the seam of your cunt. “Miss you is all. Just kinda hit me,” you taunt, dipping your finger in to press against your clit and moaning, your heard tilting back against the car window.

The light turns green and you nudge him with your toe again, titling your head to the left. “Better go before they start honking.”

Steve grunts and hits the gas hard, the truck jumping and speeding off. With the speed you’re going and the look on Steve’s face, you feel more turned on than you can remember lately and you can’t help but slide two fingers into your pussy, the wet noises filling the cab as you get yourself off.

“Fuck Steve, wish these were your fingers. You always fill me so good,” you cry out, your thumb brushing against your clit as you slowly starting to bring yourself to climax.

“If I have to pull over, you wont be able to walk for the next week.” His voice is rough and strained, his gaze locked in front of him as he continues to drive.

It’s hard not to take that as a challenge and you double your efforts. Two fingers buried to the hilt inside of you while your other hand works against your clit. It’s never as good as when Steve does it, his fingers reaching places that make you see stars but, this was alright enough and you knew he was going to punish you good for it when you finally got home.

With an exaggerated moan, you feel yourself tighten against your fingers and you cum loudly, your legs stuff and chest arched out. Your pants fill the car and you sigh softly, giggling to yourself once you slide your fingers out from between your legs and shuffle back into your seat, just a little closer to Steve.

Your head tilts as he takes the hand that was between your legs up to his mouth and you stifle the gasp that slips past your lips as he licks them clean, continuing to drive with his other hand.

“Don’t even think about pulling a fucking stunt like that again baby, I won’t be as nice next time.”

#steve murphy #boyd holbrook #narcos #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #narcos fanfic #Anonymous #my writing #headcanon

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duchesschameleon · 3 years

Text

what if - chapter 7

summary: a long lost letter leads to an adventure in Italy for three people who find love and healing along the way. a letters to juliet au

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader words: 3142 a/n: okay, the last three chapters are big ones, so buckle up! the whole fic is written, I’m just working through editing and cleaning it up. there’s no warnings for this one (I think, please let me know if I need to add any!) so enjoy! please throw a comment or a reblog my way if you like it!! and as always, thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo for being the best beta

what if masterlist

You wake up the next morning feeling both refreshed and almost hungover. Your throat is dry and eyes are scratchy from the crying but you also feel well rested and definitely a bit lighter. You get ready slowly, taking your time to make sure any traces of your crying are gone.

It’s later than normal when you join Aaron and Dave for breakfast. They’re sitting at the normal table, but Aaron looks tense. He can’t stay still, fidgeting in his seat. When you’re close to the table, he stands and pulls out your chair for you. You blink at him as you sit down, surprised by the gesture.

“Aaron, don’t you have something you want to say?” Dave asks once Aaron’s sat back down in his chair.

He shoots a dark look at Dave before clearing his throat. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday -”

“In the eyes Aaron,” Dave interrupts. Aaron sighs and shifts in his chair so he’s facing you.

“I want to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line,” he says, brown eyes locked on yours. “I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t mean it, and I’m truly sorry.”

You nod and take a sip of coffee before responding. “Thank you, Aaron.”

It’s really all you can say, now that the truth is out there. Aaron knows about your partner, you know about Haley. You both know loss and you know that both of you don’t want to put Dave through it again.

Conversation is stilted for a few more minutes, even with Dave’s best efforts to get something rolling between you and Aaron. Things finally settle into something comfortable when you bring up your search for Carolyn. There aren’t many left on your list, so you and Aaron choose a few near each other for the day.

It winds up being a short day of searching and not a successful one. Lunch might be the most interesting part of the day, at a restaurant that you would never expect to find nor to like so much. It’s a family owned restaurant just off the main road connecting some of the small towns near Siena. You probably would have driven past it, Aaron too, but Dave has an eye for these things. For the small things that turn out to be magical, with delicious food and great wine.

“The gift of old age, of slowing down,” Dave jokes when you bring it up. You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at inadvertently calling Dave old but he tuts at you. “None of that, it’s all about the experience of life. You’re young, focused on going places and doing big things. You’ll learn to appreciate these small things, spontaneous things, in time. I’m just here to help you find them now.” He winks at you, raising his wine glass in a toast that you reciprocate.

“To the finer things,” you say, clinking glasses with Dave.

“To appreciating life, la vita bella,” Dave adds, pulling back from Aaron’s glass.

“La vita bella,” Aaron whispers as he shifts to clink his glass with yours. You take a sip, holding Aaron’s gaze. He looks away after a few moments, when the air feels too thick between you two. It’s a stark difference from that morning, and a testament to how far your tenuous friendship with Aaron has come.

A week ago, you wouldn’t have imagined being so comfortable in his presence but now, you find that you don’t mind being around him. You actually like spending time with him, and you know that you’ve already forgiven him in your head for his words yesterday.

It’s a thought that sticks in the back of your head for the rest of the day, how you have forgiven him. Even if you aren’t fully certain why. You know that you hadn’t told him your full story, even when the perfect opportunity presented itself as you explored Siena two days earlier, so it wasn’t his fault for not knowing you had experienced the same loss he has. He was scared for his friend, his mentor, and you can understand that. But there’s something more to it, you just can’t put a finger on it. Instead, you shove it all to the back of your mind and focus on the remaining Carolyn’s for the day.

It doesn’t take long to rule them both out and you find yourselves back in Siena by mid-afternoon. You head to your room, eager to work more on the story and see what you have so far. Aaron and Dave spend some time poolside and try to convince you to join them, but you stick to your plan.

You sit back in the desk chair, looking over what you have. You know it’s solid, that you’re building a compelling narrative. But you’re missing an ending.

You know there are still Carolyn’s left on your list. You also know that there’s a chance Dave’s Carolyn did leave this area. There’s a chance you won’t find her on this trip, or ever. You hope that isn’t the case, you want Dave to find her and have his happily ever after, but you know that the chances of that happening are dwindling.

There’s a knock on your door, pulling you from your downward spiral. You shake the thoughts from your head as you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Uh, hi.” Aaron says, hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his feet. “I-we just wanted to see if you were joining us for dinner.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance at your watch. Well, shoot. You’d been up here for longer than planned and sure enough, it’s well into the evening and time for dinner.

“Give me five minutes to change, I can meet you downstairs,” you say, closing the door as you turn back into your room. You hear Aaron huff out a laugh and roll your eyes, knowing that means he’ll be right on the other side of the door waiting for you.

And sure enough, when you pull back the door Aaron is there looking at his watch. “Five minutes on the dot, I’m impressed.”

You roll your eyes in response as you lock the door and turn towards the elevators. The two of you walk in silence to the hotel’s restaurant where you find Dave waiting at a table. There’s already a bottle of wine on the table, from the local vineyard that supplies the hotel with all it’s wine, and three glasses poured.

“I would like to propose a toast,” Dave says, once you both sit down. He faces you, raising a glass in your direction. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for a complete stranger. It has been the most incredible adventure to be here again in Italy and to have met you.”

You smile at Dave, heart warmed by his words. “Thank you for letting me tag along, it’s been the greatest week.”

Dave smirks at you over his glass. “I think you’ve done a little more than tag along,” he notes, eyes flicking over to Aaron before winking at you.

After that, the conversation flows easily between all three of you as you share stories about your loved ones, reliving adventures with them. It’s a night filled with laughter, with memories, and a few tears. But it’s enjoyable. Things feel more relaxed, you’re comfortable with Dave and Aaron. Which is shocking given that a week ago you barely knew them and argued with Aaron constantly. Crazy what a week in a car searching for a woman can do.

Later that night, you’re out stargazing aimlessly. On the outskirts of the city, you can see more stars than you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s gorgeous and given the fact you aren’t tired yet, you find there’s no harm walking around the hotel grounds.

On a grass covered hill, you find Aaron laying on the ground. As you get closer, you see that he’s looking up at the stars, silent and pensive. He looks almost peaceful, tranquil. It’s a different look from the relaxed smile you’re used to seeing as he drives around Tuscany.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, standing over Aaron.

He starts and leans up on his elbows, nodding. “No, not at all.” You lay down beside him, staring straight at the sky. You can feel the warmth from Aaron’s body, see his eyes flicker over to you in your peripheral vision.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so many stars in my life,” you whisper. Your eyes sweep over the constellations, taking in the sheer number of stars in the sky.

“It’s incredible,” Aaron replies and you turn your head to look at him. “I only see stars like this when I take Jack camping. It’s not often unfortunately, but we always spend at least one night stargazing way past bedtime.”

You smile and turn your head back to the stars. It’s incredible to see the night sky so full of light and dimension. You’re used to the flat black of New York, the buildings providing all the light and color. This is something completely different and makes you feel so small.

Aaron clears his throat, and you can tell he’s getting ready to say something so you turn your head back to him. He says your name, almost whispers it, and pauses. “I - I wanted to apologize, again, for yesterday. I really am sorry. I was out of line, and I want you to know how sorry I am,” he says, brown eyes full of remorse.

You suck in a breath, trying to find the right words. “Apology accepted, Aaron. Truly. You didn’t know. I could have, probably should have, told you before but,” you take another breath, forcing yourself to slow down, “I was scared. Telling you felt big, it felt scary. It felt like, almost like it was more real than it has been,” you admit. Aaron had been a person who didn’t know - who didn’t give you the look of pity and sadness whenever he saw you. And when he told you about Haley, you knew he probably would never be that person. Telling him then, became an even more daunting task. As if he would truly know you, truly understand just what you were feeling. The pain, the grief, the way it feels never-ending and like an ocean you cannot cross.

“I know what you mean,” Aaron whispers. “When you tell people, you have to face it all over again. It’s like picking at a scab.” You huff out a soft laugh at his choice of analogy but nod before turning back to look at the stars. You’re both silent, just looking at the night sky. It’s a comfortable silence, finally. You feel yourself relaxing into the grass and just enjoying the moment, enjoying Aaron’s company.

“Do you think she’s out there? Carolyn?” Aaron’s question cuts through the silence, makes you think.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “She’s out there somewhere, I have to believe that.”

“Am I wrong to want Dave to stop, to call this off?”

“No,” you say slowly, “he can’t go on forever. No one can. You have to stop at some point.”

Aaron lets out a sigh. “Then why do I feel like Jack on Sunday?” he mumbles. “It’s nearly time for school and I don’t want to go.”

When you turn your head to respond, you meet Aaron’s eyes. They’re warm and open, filled with wonder. You hold his gaze for a moment before his eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

And then you’re both slowly moving in, and your lips are touching. You’re kissing Aaron. His lips are soft and gentle as they move over yours. One of his hands holds your chin in place, keeping you still as he deepens the kiss. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips and you open them. You lose track of time, kissing Aaron, reaching out an arm to wrap around his back and pull him close to you. He shifts, the hand on your jaw moving to wrap around your shoulders, his other down your back and rolling you so you settle on top of him. Your lips move together, exploring each other, until you pull back for a much needed breath.

You’re still holding Aaron, still resting on top of him, when it hits you. You were kissing Aaron. You roll off of him, laying on your back again. The tension that had been so present your first few days with Aaron is back, the air tense between you. You stay still, mind racing as you process what just happened and what to do next. Aaron’s just as still and silent beside you, neither one of you daring to speak first.

After a minute of silence, you make your decision. You sit up, take a breath, and then stand to walk away, leaving Aaron on the hill without saying a word.

You don’t look back, focused on making it to your room. You miss the way Aaron sits up, watching you walk away. You miss the way his jaw drops as he processes what just happened, the kiss, the situation, the fact that he kissed you a day after finding out you’d lost your partner only months before. You miss the figure in a window overlooking the hill moving his hand to let the curtains fall back into place as he smiles and shakes his head.

Sleep comes to you in fits that night, the kiss replaying over and over again in your head as you toss and turn.

Logic had made you walk away without a word - you’d recently lost your partner, you live in New York, Aaron lives in DC. Someone would have to give something up for the two of you to be together. And what would everyone say about you finding someone so soon? It’s been four months, that has to be too soon.

But in your heart, you know it’s not. You know that you can’t put a timer on recovery, on grief. And you certainly can’t predict when you’ll meet someone you fall for.

Finally, sleep overtakes your brain and pushes all thoughts of Aaron, of kisses, of relationships out of your head. You’re leaving tomorrow, heading back to Verona and that’s that.

---

“Good morning,” Aaron says, taking your suitcase from you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright,” you respond.

“Good.”

You stand at the trunk of the car, unsure what to say next when thankfully Dave comes outside. Aaron walks past you to help Dave with his suitcase, giving you a moment to take a breath and push down all the thoughts of last night.

You walk away from the trunk and give Dave a hug. “Good morning,” you say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He returns the favor and gives you a little squeeze, helping ground you. “You know, the stars looked amazing out of my window last night, did you get to see them?”

“Yeah, they looked incredible,” you say, pulling open the back door of the car. Dave says your name, stopping you from sliding into your seat.

“Do you mind sitting up front today? I want to stretch my legs a little.”

So you walk around to the passenger seat and settle in, quickly glancing at Aaron as he climbs in. Your heart clenches, knowing what you want but also knowing it’ll be impossible to take.

For someone who wants to stretch his legs, Dave spends a lot of time leaning forward between the front seats, snapping along to the radio and singing in Italian. You have your arm propped up on the door and keep looking at the window, at the scenery passing by. It’s bittersweet to be leaving Tuscany, going back to Verona and then New York in a few days, but as you told Aaron last night, you can’t keep searching forever.

Aaron’s driving on the winding road to the highway when Dave all of a sudden sits up and starts tapping on Aaron’s seat. “Look, it’s the vineyard that the hotel stocks! C’mon, let's go see it. It’s our favorite wine.” Aaron slows the car and turns into the vineyard, looking around to see if there’s any signs about tours or visitation.

The road in is lined with trees and bushes and you can see people in the field working. Aaron’s driving slow, still uncertain if you can even be here, when Dave starts again.

“Stop the car Aaron, stop the car,” he says, moving to unbuckle himself. He’s opening the door as Aaron’s coming to a full stop and looking at one of the women working in the vineyard. You and Aaron climb out the car, following Dave and wondering what is going on.

“It’s Carolyn,” Dave says. He’s looking at the young woman working the field, a woman who could not have been alive in the 60s.

You and Aaron share a skeptical look before turning back to Dave. “Alright, let’s get you in the shade,” Aaron says, trying to steer Dave towards the trees. It hits you then, what might actually be happening here and you approach the woman.

“Uhm, tu sai dove Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, stumbling over the Italian for ‘do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

“I am Carolyn Bartolini,” the woman responds.

Aaron rushes over to you, saying your name as it falls into place for him. “This is - it’s her granddaughter,” he says, as another woman approaches you.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Aaron says, turning to the new woman, “do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

The woman nods, “I am Carolyn Bartolini.”

“Do you also have a mother named Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, a smile breaking out on your face.

“Si, she left to go riding a little while ago. Can we help you?”

Aaron introduces the two of you and explains that you’ve been looking for her mother, that Dave knew her long ago.

“Aaron, let’s go,” Dave says, calling the two of you back towards the car. “Let’s go, this was -”

“Dave, Carolyn’s here!” Aaron interrupts. “She’s out riding, but she’s here.”

“Then let's go before she gets back.” For the first time, Dave looks apprehensive, scared almost.

“Dave, we’ve come all this way and she’s here! Come on,” Aaron protests.

“I’ve been ridiculous Aaron, you’ve been saying it all along. I knew Carolyn when I was a boy, I was barely 16. I’m not the same person anymore, so let’s go before she gets back.”

“Dave,” Aaron starts.

But then you hear horseshoes. You see Dave turn his head a little, a wondrous look in his eyes. You turn to see what’s going on behind you and you see her.

Carolyn Bartolini.

taglist: @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner @kelstark @hurricanejjareau @oreogutz @whentheautumnleavesfall

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #letters to juliet #letters to juliet au #romcom au #my writing #what if tag #fic stuff #charlie rambles

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

Walk Me Through The Dark (1/1) Alpha/Omega one-shot

Summary: There are no guarantees that life will be easy or happy, but Emma had finally found all that and more in the form of Killian Jones, her best friend, her alpha and mate. She’d forgotten what it was to fear, to run, to have the hope knocked from her body, but she’s about to remember, and so is he.

Rating: Explicit, read through A/N for trigger warnings, or skip to after the cut for spoiler-free

A big thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for beta reading and supporting this story!

AO3 or FF

Author’s Note: This is a hurt/comfort omegaverse based fic for CS. It is rated E for a reason. Tags/Trigger Warnings are as follows: Attempted rape/non-con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Heavy Angst, Sexual Assault Recovery

-Walk Me Through The Dark-

Emma hung onto the rail above her as the subway lurched into motion, her long curls falling around her face and giving some sense of privacy in the crowded car. She stared down at the screen on her phone, a soft smile on her face. Tapping a quick reply to Mary Margaret with one finger, she swiped back to the previous screen, selecting Killian's name and letting go of her hold on the rail so she could send him a message. The train swayed and she widened her stance, regaining her balance. Her stomach churned slightly at the motion and she frowned. She shouldn't have eaten the curry from the food truck for lunch, it never sat well.

She tapped send and reached for the support of the rail again.

E: What are you doing for dinner, babe?

Her eyes traveled the length of the car as she waited for his response. He'd mentioned earlier that his latest overhaul may keep him at the ship yard for some late nights, but the picture Mary Margaret had sent – something simmering in red sauce with a crispy layer of cheese – left her wondering what her mate would be doing to feed himself that evening.

Her cell vibrated in her hand.

K: If I'm lucky, there will be some takeaway left in the work fridge, though I'd much rather be enjoying the evening with you, love.

Heat rushed into her cheeks as she read his words, the echo of his voice in her head. He loved his work at the ship yard, and though it had taken her a long time to realize the sincerity of his words, she knew now just how much truth was in them. Despite having a job that he'd long dreamed about, his favorite place to be was always at her side. The way he made her feel, loved and wanted, was a far cry from how she'd felt her entire childhood into her adult life.

E: I miss you too. Don't forget there's leftover alfredo at home, if you end up not staying too late.

E: Looks like MM is making lasagna.

Their apartment wasn't too far from his office, and she hoped the idea of fresh food would lure him away from whatever dried out leavings had been abandoned by his coworkers.

K: Both of those sound very tempting at the moment. Give MM and David my love.

Emma smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket, settling in for the rest of the ride out to the Nolan's. Friday night dinners had become something of a tradition between the four friends, but things had been so overwhelming at the ship yard lately that Killian missed them more often than he liked. Luckily, his latest overhaul was coming to an end soon, and they were both hoping things would be a bit more manageable.

The car rocked again and Emma swallowed, a sudden wave of nausea creeping up her throat as they moved, something about the steady creaking of the wheels and the sway of the train making her feel sick. Honestly, that was the last time she went with spicy food, it always made her feel off, despite how delicious it was. She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers, sweat beginning to dampen her palm, more tightly around the rail, wishing she were anywhere else as the nausea worsened, her stomach churning and cramping. A tingling warmth worked its way up through her body, spreading along her arms and legs. Another cramp twisted deep in her abdomen, and that's when it hit her.

Her heat was coming on early.

Panic surged beneath the burning heat and nausea as she sucked in a deep breath. It was too early, by a week and a half at least. She would have never dared take public transit if she thought there was even a chance...and now she was stuck on the T with a crammed car. Her eyes darted to the digital map above the door, the light that indicated their position creeping along slowly to North Quincy station. They were only a quarter of the way along, and she cursed her luck.

The doctor had warned her more than once that she could end up suffering from unmanageable heats down the road due to her early use of suppressants, but so far she'd escaped having to deal with any of that. She'd thought she was in the clear.

She could feel the instincts that became heightened during her heats start to spike, the panic only making them sharper. She needed to get off this train, the locked doors and windows and the sheer press of people triggering an instinctual need to run, to get to a place that was warm and safe, a place that was familiar – their bed at home with the blankets piled high and smelling of her mate.

She needed Killian.

She needed her Alpha, but he was already too far, and she was stuck on a train heading in the opposite direction.

Another sharp cramp twisted her insides and she bit back a whimper, adrenaline pumping through her veins and sweat beading on her skin as she shifted, stealing a glance at the people surrounding her. Almost everyone seemed unaware of her predicament, which made sense. Her heat was only just at the beginning of its climb, and it was unlikely that betas would notice much difference in the pheromones her body was producing – not this early on. Only alphas and omegas possessed the hyper-sensitive ability to pick out those scents from the air at such an early stage.

Then her eyes fell on the far corner of the car, and she saw him.

He leaned casually into the corner, but his eyes were narrowed and hard, his lips touched by the start of a smile as he realized that she knew he knew. Flexing his shoulders, he lifted his nose to the air and drew in a deep breath, his mouth twisting into a feral grin.

Emma's eyes widened with fear and she snapped her head back down, breathing heavily as a shiver washed over her body, the hair on her neck prickling. That had been a mistake, she realized, looking away – too submissive and sure to goad the strange alpha into action. She should have stared him down, and normally she would have, but somehow, being stuck in a confined space so far from her mate, her heat bearing down on her in a way that was faster and worse than normal – she was utterly terrified.

The man staring her down – she could feel it, even if she refused to look back in his direction – seemed to be a typical alpha from what she'd briefly seen. He wielded his large, bulky frame with the ease of someone used to getting their way and being obeyed, looming over the people beside him with an air of authority. He'd made a show of scenting the air when she'd laid eyes on him, and the fact that he was so blatantly displaying his interest had the taste of bile stinging sharply in the back of her throat.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

She wanted it to be yesterday, before her body betrayed her and she was stuck in this nightmare.

Another cramp twisted in her gut, longer and sharper, her teeth digging into her lip as she tried to hold back the whine she could feel building in her throat – a call that was always answered by the reassuring rumble of her mate, except he wasn't here.

He was too far, and despite the flush of heat consuming her, she was so cold, her body insisting that she needed the warmth and security only he could provide.

She wanted to call him, the urge to do so almost irrepressible, but she knew he'd be a frantic mess, worrying for no reason. As long as the alpha in the corner kept his distance, she'd be fine – and it's not like he was crazy. Her claim mark would have been clearly visible when she turned toward him, and she knew that her scent gland was in overdrive, producing copious amounts of not only her own signals for heat, but the potent scent of her mate as well, broadcasting to any other alphas in the area that she wasn't a free omega. The guy had to know, so she felt reassured that he'd leave her alone.

She had to believe it, because the alternative was too frightening to consider.

No, there was no reason to call her mate and worry him over nothing. She had time. She'd jump out at North Quincy and grab a car straight back home. Then she would call Killian and let him know that he'd need to cut his work night short. If she was lucky, he'd already be there, drawn in by the promise of chicken alfredo.

Sweat slid from her cold grasp on the rail down the inside of her wrist in into her jacket.

She had to believe that everything would be fine, and for a few minutes it felt that way. It was the movement in her peripheral vision that betrayed that hope. The stray alpha was leaving his place at the other end of the car, people parting around him as he made his way closer. His body was tensed as he took another deep whiff of the air around him, a look of impatience on his face.

“Sorry,” Emma stammered, apologizing to the woman she'd accidentally pushed against in her futile effort to put more distance between herself and the threat the man posed.

Another shiver racked her body, adrenaline amplifying every normal inconvenience that her heat brought out – the cramps, the chills, the clawing need for her mate, and with that, the steady rush of slick that was just starting to slip from between her thighs. She wrangled with her own body, fighting for control and losing, her attention so caught up in maintaining some sort of normalcy that she didn't realize the alpha had moved closer until she felt his hot breath against the back of her neck, the air around her thickening with a sour, deep musk that was simply wrong.

She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out, instead she fell forward, nearly on top of someone in the seat. She'd just managed to pull her feet back beneath her when she felt a firm hand wrap itself around her bicep, hauling her backward.

“Now, now, Omega,” the man chuckled close in her ear, the heat radiating from his body making her want to vomit. “Seems like you need some help.”

“No,” she ground out, almost unable to hear her own words, the hammering of her pulse in her ears drowning them out. “No. I'm claimed.”

She tore herself out of the man's grip and moved quickly toward the small circle of space near the door, uncaring of the people she elbowed or pushed aside to get there. The map above her was starting the blink, the little bulb beneath N. Quincy Station finally lighting up.

Thank god.

With any luck the man had taken the hint and wouldn't risk making a scene. At this point, there had to be at least one or two others on the car aware of what was happening, and there was no way any sane alpha would risk the trouble he could get into for pushing himself on a claimed omega. She hoped – but her heat always gave her tunnel vision, and the only thing she could think of was Killian, of how badly she needed him and how she'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment.

The train finally slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. She'd never moved more quickly in her life, shoving aside the few people that tried to cut her off as she bolted from the train, never even hearing the muttered curses a few commuters send her way.

Her vision blurred in time with her heart, pinching and expanding as her heat slipped into the next gear. She stumbled forward and leaned heavily against a concrete support not far from the train as another cramp jolted through her core, leaving her nerves tingling in pain. She chanced a look back through the thinning crowd as the doors slid shut, but she didn't see him in the station.

Fearing what she might not see, she looked into the window of the car, but she couldn't make out his bulk there either. He wasn't on the train, but she hadn't seen him in the station either. She would have noticed.

The wave of nausea and cramps passed and she pulled out her cell, punching in Killian's number, her breathing echoing in her ears as she waited for the call to connect. He was at work, and she hardly ever called him there, so of course he picked up immediately, concern tainting the voice she'd needed so desperately to hear.

“Emma, is everything alright, love?”

Hearing his actual voice broke something in her, the wall she'd been holding up out of sheer determination, needing to believe that everything would be fine, that the alpha on the train was just going to forget her – but there was a small, niggling part of her brain warning that she would have seen him in the car if he'd stayed, if he hadn't followed her out.

“Killian,” she whimpered, every bit of that fear communicated through the tremor in her voice, in the way her breath fell in short pants as she moved farther out of the station, her eyes darting to the dark corners around her as she hurried toward the back parking lot.

“Emma,” he rushed, his voice laced with dread. “Emma, where are you? What's wrong?”

“My heat, it's early,” she muttered. “I was on the train when it hit. It's bad...”

“I'm coming to get you. What station?”

She nearly dropped the phone as another cramp rocked her, more slick cooling her thighs and dampening her jeans, her breath cut short as she struggled upright again.

“Emma!” Killian snapped just as she brought the phone back to her ear. “What station, Emma?”

“North Quincy. Killian...there was an alpha on the train.”

She could hear the sharp intake of his breath, something in the background dropping to the ground.

“Emma, I'm coming. Can you stay where there are people?”

“I don't know if he followed me,” she admitted, finally saying the thing she hadn't wanted to confront aloud. She hadn't seen him as the station emptied out around her, but there was no denying the odor of his musk that still drifted toward her occasionally. She wanted to believe it was lingering from where he'd wrapped his sweating hand around her arm, but she couldn't be sure. “There's no one here,” she whispered, blanching when she finally realized how far she'd walked in her daze. “I'm in the parking lot. I was gonna grab an Uber home.”

“Are there any cabs? Any cars, love?”

“No, it's so empty, Killian. There's no one here...”

“Stay on the line with me, Emma. I'm coming – right now. I'm on my way.”

Her mate's voice was wrecked, cracking with fear that she knew he was trying to keep at bay. In her gut she knew he was probably more frightened than she was, because she at least had the luxury of her heat muting everything it didn't deem important, but he didn't even have that. Entwining with hers, his fear only made her desire to burrow into their bed that much stronger, everything other than her need for him and a safe place dimming slightly. She wanted home, nestled in warmth with his weight on top of her. She'd be so full and sated, content with him curled around her back...

“Emma.”

Killian's voice broke through the fog, strained but firm, and she found herself humming in response, his voice sending a pleasing vibration through her body.

“Omega!” he snapped, and her purr turned into a whine at the sharp tone of displeasure, but his attempt to pull her back to reality worked, and some semblance of clarity came back to her as she hurried further into the parking lot.

“I'm here – I just...it's bad, Killian. It's coming fast and hard.”

“Just stay with me, love. Look around, do you see the alpha from the train? Did he follow you?”

She turned in place, trying to focus on her surroundings, the sidewalks and the slight glow of the lobby in the empty station, the parked cars and streetlights that cast wide circles of light across the pavement. She didn't see him, but there was this feeling, this warning in her gut that she'd learned to trust.

“I don't see him, but I think...oh, god, I think maybe he did. I don't know. I'm scared, Killian.” She stumbled backwards over the concrete lip of a planted median and grabbed onto the mirror of a car to steady herself. She needed to get farther from the building, someplace dark and hidden and safe – someplace he wouldn't see her. “I have to get out of sight. Maybe he'll just give up...”

“Can you get somewhere with people?”

“Not without going back through the station to the front...there's no one here,” she whispered, the tiny, logical part of her brain still working thinking how insane it was that the parking lot was this empty, like all of her bad luck had saved itself up for one day. “He could be inside still, if I try to go back.”

Just as she was threading her way between two vehicles, her eyes still locked on the station, she saw the silhouette of someone large approaching the doors she'd left mere minutes before, and she knew it was him. Before he could spot her, she dropped to the ground in a crouch, ignoring the sharp cramp that twisted in her gut with every ounce of determination she had left, gritting her teeth and moving farther through the parking lot.

“He's here,” she whispered, sliding her back against the front wheel of a car, her already soaked jeans pressed against the damp pavement. “He's here.”

Everything slowed, her heart beating like a dying drum against her chest, her breath shallow and drawn out on a tremble. She tightened her grip as her phone nearly tumbled from her sweat-slicked hand, her mouth dry with the taste of bile and metal.

He was going to find her. He would find her, and there would be nothing she could do.

The pain in her stomach had doubled, her body caught between fear and desperation, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand, let alone run.

“I'm coming. I'm almost there, I promise. I'm not going to let him hurt you, okay? Just stay quiet, love. Please, just stay with me, Emma.”

He was too far, so far.

“I'm here,” she breathed. “Killian...I'm so scared.”

For a moment there was nothing more than the sound of his wrecked breathing and her quiet pants. Her hearing was sharpened, but she didn't hear any footsteps, didn't know if she even would over the rapid flutter of her pulse in her ears. There was a chance, if she had any luck left, that he'd glanced out the door and hadn't seen her. Maybe he was gone.

She exhaled and the air around her finally shifted, a gust of wind sweeping over the lot and cooling her heated skin. She almost sighed, the relief it brought making her forget for a second that she was drenched with slick, feverish and freezing at the same time – but then she smelled him, the alpha from the train.

He was close, the scent strong and just starting to deepen with notes of an alpha in rut, but nothing about it was heady and intoxicating like her own mate's. It was all wrong, and something feral in her snarled, wanting nothing to do with the male following her.

“Killian,” she broke, her whispered words nearly a cry, tears mixing with sweat as she realized her time was up, her vision blurring.

If she could smell the alpha, then he could smell her.

He would find her.

“Emma, I'm so close. I'll find you, I promise.”

“Killian, I love –”

Her phone clattered to the pavement at her feet, her words stolen as a strong hand grabbed her arm, ripping her up from where she'd been hiding. A pained yelp flew from her mouth as her shoulder twisted painfully, the world spinning as she was pinned against the hood of the car, a heavy body covering her back.

Her attacker's face pushed roughly into the crook of her neck, scenting her with a groan. She shuddered, squirming beneath him, her cries muffled as the suffocating weight of his arm pressed into her face. She sucked in meager, burning gulps of air, vomit rising in the back of her mouth as his tongue swept over the claim mark on her neck.

“You really gave me a chase,” the alpha groaned, his hips rutting against her backside, thrusting her own sore and cramping body into the wheel well. “I like a good chase though, and I've never smelled anything like you before.”

Twisting as much as she was able, she latched her teeth into an exposed section of his hand, her stomach lurching as the taste of blood filled her mouth, his angered snarl cutting across the dark parking lot. For a brief second the pressure eased and Emma hoped she might have a chance, but before she could even draw in a full breath he was back on her, changing his hold and wrapping his bloody fingers around the back of her neck instead. Cold air whipped between their lower bodies and she screamed as his other hand moved to her jeans, her knees banging against metal as she struggled.

“You don't know your place, Omega,” he growled, enjoying her whimper of pain as he pushed her more forcefully against the car, the sound of his zipper making her freeze. “I'll teach you. You'll thank me too. By the end you'll be begging for my knot.”

He kept talking, but his words were slipping away, everything moving farther away – even the piercing noise that Emma thought might have been her own screams, but she didn't know. She couldn't breathe, let alone scream. His fingers were tugging at her zipper, the wet, stubborn material of her jeans scrunching slowly down her hips.

She fought, struggled through the heavy fog settling around her. She didn't want this. It was all wrong. Not her mate, not Killian.

Then the world collapsed around her, lights and sounds finally folding into nothingness like a house of cards as her attacker grew more impatient, her body rocking against the car with each jerk as he struggled to lower the soaked material down her body, her position making it near impossible for him to get the jeans low enough with one hand.

Everything felt so distant, her breath on the hood of the car spreading like smoke and then fading away.

Then in a sudden rush the world snapped back to her, the hot weight against her back and fumbling hands torn away – the sound of something crashing into metal. The sound of a struggle as something was dragged across the pavement, grunts and curses and the sound of a fist hitting something over and over. There were voices now, shouts that come to her like a light through the fog. The sound of her jacket dragging against metal as she slumped to the ground. The sound of her sneakers pushing back gravel, and then the sound of her own voice as her knees hit the pavement.

“Killian,” she rasped, smelling him before she saw him, movement and light and clarity returning to her just as he rushed to her side, his blue eyes shining with tears and his hand, bloodied and swollen, moving to cup her face as he pulled her from the ground, as if she weighed nothing.

To him she never had.

She wanted to cry, finally enveloped by the heat and the scent and the person she needed, her hands twisting in his shirt as she strove to somehow get closer. Sensing her need, Killian shifted her carefully, juggling her in his arms as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her and shielding her in safety and comfort. His sweat and musk were soaked into the material, his scent flooding her, calming her frayed nerves and the part of her that still wanted to jump and kick at every noise reaching her ears.

His body was shaking with adrenaline, the tremors vibrating through her. She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek and neck along his skin in the way she knew would stir her own scent gland, easing his worry and calming him. She felt him settle around her, but then he started to move, growling out something unintelligible – it was then that she realized there must be people standing nearby. He paused and she clung to him tightly, his arms responding in kind. Fear crawled along her spine at the thought someone might be trying to separate them. From a gap in his jacket she could see the flicker of lights, red and blue against the metallic sheen of the cars. She knew he must be talking with a cop, that help had come, but she couldn't focus on the words.

Now that she was where she should be, the reality of her heat was falling back over her like a familiar weight.

The gentle swagger of his body resumed and there was the sound of a car door opening – a brief moment of terror when he let her go, her response immediate and frantic, but then he was back at her side, scooping her from the seat and back into his lap as he barked their address at whoever was driving.

The car pulled away, the fog of fear lessening and eventually falling away from her entirely as she basked in the comfort that was her mate, his arms wrapped solidly around her as he whispered her name over and over into her hair, his fingers caressing her sweat-soaked skin and soothing the writhing need inside of her, wordless promises that she wouldn't feel aching and empty for long, that he would take care of her.

~ * ~ * ~

She isn't sure how long the trip back home takes, but every moment she slides further away from the trauma she'd been put through and into the instinctual need that feels like it just may rip her apart. She's bathed in the scent of her mate – the deep, spicy musk heavy on his skin, laced with notes of sea salt and sweetness and something unique only to him. It's everything she's ever needed. Adrenaline and fear had triggered his rut in the same way they'd worsened her heat, and the familiar intoxicating tang that it edged his scent with was driving her wild with need, slick pooling once more between her legs as she core throbbed violently.

Her attack seems so distant, and far less important than finally getting into the privacy of their own home, to the place where her mate can soothe her and give them what they both desperately need. She wriggles in his lap, unable to hold back the needy plea that she presses into his skin, delighting in the low growl vibrating through his chest as he tightens his grip. Words are snapped at the driver and then Killian is tipping them both to the side as he digs into his pocket. A moment later the car slows to a stop and he's tossing something onto the front seat before easing them outside, her body still caged tightly within his arms.

His jacket is still draped over her, his arms holding it in place, but the collar had settled around her neck and she looks up into his stormy eyes, his pupils blown-wide, just as surely as her own are. There's an unquenchable need there, but below it she sees the fear, the regret and guilt, the anger. Her fingers drift up and cradle the tense line of his jaw, stroking until his muscles unclench, hoping he understands that everything is alright, everything will be alright.

They're together, and she's never felt more safe than she does right now.

He doesn't put her down, not once, despite the struggle it gives him in getting into the apartment, but she doesn't want him to, doesn't think she could stand to be separated for even an instant. She knows there are a lot of things to be said, to be asked, to be cried over, but right now she can't think past tearing off all of the layers that are keeping them apart.

They don't make it farther than the entryway, the door slamming shut behind them as he fingers the offending material of her jacket, the stench of the other alpha still wafting from the wool into the air. When he peels it carefully from her body, clearly resisting the urge to tear it from her, she sighs in relief, shrugging off the weight of it as he tosses it violently across the room.

Killian normally loves taking his time with his mate, using his fingers and mouth to bring her to completion before finally giving in to the crushing need to fill her and knot her, but her need is too great right now, too desperate, and his sudden rut is making it near impossible for him to walk her to the bedroom, let alone take care of her in the way he wants – to sit her down and ask what he can do, what she needs – he knows that she needs this, and he'll give it to her, to them both.

“Alpha...” she begs, suddenly falling to the floor at his feet, her chest pressed against his legs as she rubs her cheek against his crotch, her fingers trembling as she struggles to undo the button of his pants “...need you, Alpha.”

The air between them is thick with the mix of their scents, his blood pounding in his ears, need and fear and desire rolling together like some wild thing, the sweet scent of her slick so strong he can taste it on his tongue, wants to taste it on her soaked flesh.

“Omega,” he rasps, his vision sharpening to see her and only her, his cock hard and throbbing and every instinct in his body telling him that his omega needs him, that only he can give her what she craves. His hands settle tightly on her shoulders, turning her gently on the entryway carpet. “Present for your Alpha.”

Small, expectant whimpers tremble from her throat as she drops to her belly and slides her knees up behind her, her fingers hastily grabbing her rumpled jeans and pushing the sodden material over her ass and down her thighs, wriggling her legs to get them to her knees as an overpowering wave of her scent plows into him.

The sight of her sex, swollen and exposed, presented so wantonly in the air for him has his knot swelling at the base of his cock, his pulse racing as he shoves his jeans down his own legs and kneels behind her, holding the beast in him at bay so he can snatch one last human moment before he's lost completely, burying his mouth in her folds and greedily lapping her juices up, his tongue sweeping every inch he can reach before he pulls back with a growl, images flashing through his head – another alpha's hands on her, another male scenting her, imagining what she would feel like.

Somewhere in the back of his brain he knows that this isn't about that, but gods he needs to feel her to know that she's really there, that they're both here and he made it to her in time, that he didn't let her down completely when she needed him most, that she needs him in this way just as urgently as he needs her.

“Emma,” he whispers, her excited pants driving him on as he pulls back and hovers behind her, the swollen head of his cock throbbing against her scorching folds as his hands settle on her hips, “my Omega...”

“God, yes, yours, Alpha, always yours...”

“Mine.”

And then he's burying himself inside of her, her walls seizing around him the instant he does, her cries of his title and name muffled in the carpet as she gyrates her hips, trying to impale herself further. He wants to savor that first, heavenly wave of pleasure that sinking into her always brings, but the beast inside of him is unrelenting, needing to remind the both of them that she is his, and he is hers. Everything other than the ecstasy of their joining and her delicious noises falls away from him, lost beneath the haze of instincts he can't escape – his hips pistoning as he drags his cock from her grasping channel and thrusts back in, slick running freely from his omega and soaking the floor beneath them as she begs and pleads for all of him.

“Is that what you want, Omega,” he pants, the wet sounds of him pulling out and driving back into her filling the air, her firm ass bouncing as he rams into her again and again. “You need your Alpha's knot?”

“Please, Alpha, please, need it so bad,” she mumbles, her words running one over the next as she lets out a moan and shudders around him, so close to falling apart, but needing the fullness of his knot stretching her. “Just yours, just yours, Alpha...”

She tries to struggle upward, unable to shake the urge to feel her alpha covering her completely, his chest pressed against her back as he thrusts into her, claiming her entirely and leaving no inch of her body unmarked by his firm hold and powerful scent. She's shaking, her limbs barely able to support her own weight as he continues to plow into her, his knot fully swollen and catching the edges of her opening with each push deeper, but he senses what she needs, that the separation between them is too much, and he pauses for a second to move his hands from her hips, grabbing her arms and yanking her upper half closer, their two bodies bent together as he pulls her tightly against his chest, swallowing her small frame entirely as he holds her up, his rut bringing with it a strength that doesn't answer to weariness, but only to need.

His grunts are hot and rhythmic against her neck as he moves within her, his teeth sharper and gently razing the swollen gland that already bears his claim mark, sweat running from both of their bodies and sliding between them. Still riled by the threat to his omega, the beast inside of him is wild and frenzied, driving him to mark her again, to claim her once more – the only thing that will sate him. Beneath him her whimpers spiral into something keening and primal, her legs trembling despite the fact that he's holding both of them suspended as he thrusts, and he knows she's almost there, can feel her swollen walls spasming around him.

He slides one hand down her stomach, changing their angle and forcing himself deeper, his knot brushing further within her swollen walls as they begin to pulse around him.

“Mine, Omega...” he growls, completely lost to the beast as she keens beneath him in answer.

She is his, always his.

“Need it, need it, Alpha, please,” she cries, her walls pulling at the throbbing edge of his knot with each teasing thrust. “Need to feel you fill me up, make me yours, please...”

“Open up for me,” he pants against her skin, his teeth gliding down to clamp around the swell of her shoulder. He moves his hand lower and rubs against her clit, his calloused fingers pinching roughly, his words like liquid sin rolling over her, his cock thick and hard and stretching her in all the right ways, everything flowing and surging together in a brutal wave that crashes over her all at once, her vision fading and slipping into darkness as she shakes beneath him – the familiar sting of his teeth marking her shoulder a vibrant shock of blinding light beneath her lids, drawing every last pulsing moment of rapture from her body.

He thrusts into her one final time, his own peace finding him as he forces the swell of his knot into her tight sheath, the coil in his gut snapping and exploding outward as pleasure rocks his body, her walls milking every last drop of his seed – the beast inside of him quelled.

They come down together, Emma collapsing as he releases her shoulder and cushions her fall with his arms, stifling a groan at the pull between them where he's tightly joined with her still. He carefully maneuvers them to their sides on the damp carpet, Emma's breath leaving her in a gasp as the movement shifts him within her slightly, her walls shivering around him and drawing a last spasm from his still hard member.

“Killian,” she whispers, her voice tired yet serene, her head rolling against his chest so their lips can find one another. “Alpha...”

There are a few blissful minutes where their bodies breath as one, sighs traded between their lips and fingers tracing heated skin, but then the fog of need disperses and the weight of the evening falls back onto them, her body shaking in his embrace.

“Oh, love,” he murmurs, wishing he could pull her more comfortably into the safety of his arms, or that he’d spared a thought to getting them to the bedroom before they’d joined.

She reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressing small kisses into his skin, her tears running along her cheeks and into his palm as she weeps. He tries to hold and comfort her as best he can, his own tears darkening her hair as he presses her closer, whispering soft noises between them. He wants to tell her how sorry he is that he wasn’t by her side, that he hadn’t been able to prevent that monster from ever laying a hand on her, but he knows saying the words won’t make them true, and the last thing he wants to do is burden her with his own failings. With no words strong enough to soothe the hurt that’s been done to her, he simply offers what he can with his presence. As soon as their bodies slip apart, she’s turning into him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest and sighing into his embrace, neither of them sure of the next steps to take, or where those steps might take them.

~ * ~ * ~

It was never going to be easy – taking broken things and making them resemble what they once did never is, but its almost impossible when a new, jagged memory sits among the rest, waiting to find its place.

It wasn't easy the first week that swung violently between frantic couplings and emotional upheaval, a man and woman in uniform sitting opposite their couch as Emma recounted what happened, her hands gripping Killian's like a lifeline. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his body slanted between her and the police. Still mid-rut, his instincts to protect and shield her were at war with the man who understood she needed to tell her story, to do what she could to put the monster who had assaulted her behind bars.

It didn't get any easier the next week when her body finally gasped and released its need, her heat dissipating and leaving her an empty, broken shell that every happiness seemed to run straight through, spilling on the floor.

And none of the hours, or days, or weeks that came after were better. She'd wake at night with the memory of hands on her arm, pressing against her neck – the wrong hands – but there was never more than a second of panic before she was wrapped in the rightness that was her mate, her fears soothed if only for a few moments.

It wasn't easy when she sat on the couch with her therapist, sometimes talking, and sometimes saying nothing at all, but always wondering if those pieces she'd been broken into would ever amount to the strong, capable woman she used to be, or if that one dark piece meant they'd stay forever on the floor, waiting for the next blow that would crush them into an even finer dust.

It wasn't easy for Killian either, not the first week when he bent to the instincts they were both driven by, man warring with pure, primal need, unable to do anything but give in, but fearful that it was too much too soon – both the man and the beast left rabid with fury when the police informed them that while they suspected her attacker had a similar history in other cities, without corroboration or a record, he'd most likely be able to bargain down to a slap on the wrist.

It didn't get any easier after their rut and heat ended, reality slipping through their doorway as they searched for a new normal that didn't disturb the broken pieces that littered the floor and met them each day in the mirror. Killian confided that he'd decided to walk home for dinner when she mentioned the leftovers, that if he hadn't, if he'd decided to stay at the office, he was terrified to think of how much longer it would have taken him to get to her – how one little decision had meant so much. What other decision could he make that would be the wrong one?

None of the hours, day, or weeks that followed were better, waking from his own nightmares to comfort his mate, images he'd never forget still etched behind his closed eyes as Emma shuddered in his arms – the police holding him back from a scene he didn't want to see, Emma bloodied and broken on the ground because he'd taken too long to reach her, because she was a fighter, because he'd failed her.

He'd finally agreed to see someone, to try to find a way just as Emma was, but even then the weight of fixing things felt like a burden he'd crumble beneath, one infinitesimal crack away from shattering. How could he take the guilt, the anger, the resentment, the fear and wrap them up neatly into something that wouldn't drag him down with each step he took? How could he be there for Emma if he couldn't hold himself up? How could he forgive himself?

It wasn't easy, and it took more days and months than they could count, some of them passing in moments of brightness and others lingering like a sickness they couldn't shake, but they had each other. They had help, and gradually, like seasons shifting, the minutes between dark moments grew a little longer, the days between nightmares stretched.

It was months before they took anything but a car to get around Boston, and even then never alone. Emma still hated confined spaces, leaving the doors open to every room she was in, even at work or home, and neither of them were as comfortable with long absences than they once were. When Killian mentioned a transfer to a small ship yard in New York, Emma could see through his reassurances that he would be happy there. She knew his heart, and she also knew hers, so she knew it wasn't right for them.

This was their home, and she wasn't going to let that monster take it away from her, from Killian, from the future they'd always envisioned here.

So they fought for it, through the days that were easy and the ones that weren't, which a year later were few and far between, and on the day that Emma told Killian they would need to move his office out of the spare room, it had never been easier to forget that brief moment of darkness in the face of so much light and promise.

And on the day they painted it a beautiful sea-blue that peeked through the slats of the crib Killian had put together himself, they barely ever thought of all those broken pieces – the few that still lingered were familiar and softened by time, as ingrained into the foundation of who they were now as anything whole – instead, they chose to look ahead to where there was a happy beginning to a new story – and above all else, there was Hope.

#Captain Swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #omegaverse

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lorirwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

More Than Queen And Mother

Author's note: This fic wasn't on my schedule, but I kinda like its outcome. [All characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios] Book: The Crown & The Flame Pairing: Raydan Lykel x Kenna Rys Rating: M Word count: 1473 Summary: Kenna is having a hard time to adjust to her new role Based on the prompt: CFWC Female Characters Week: Day 4 - Motherhood

Warning: This piece contains adult material (mentions of anxiety, pregnancy complications, blood) that may be disturbing/offensive for some people. Reader discretion is advised.

As the sun set on the horizon, the light blended in the blue sky, creating a perfect hue of yellow, orange, pink, and purple. From the balcony of the royal chambers, Queen Kenna watched nature's spectacle unamused as her fingers idly ran on the rim of her goblet. From a very young age, Kenna learned one of her many life missions and accomplishments as queen would be to provide heirs to the throne. According to her mother and all her tutors, a royal baby would bring as much stability to the Kingdom and to her family's dynasty as winning wars.

However, her current condition felt nothing like any wars she has been in before. Ever since the royal physician advised her to abstain from all activities that could cause her any distress, Raydan began to handle all royal duties on his own. She had no doubts her husband would do a great job. But her initial relief to step away from her duties to bear her first child became a succession of boring days.

"Oh, Your Majesty!"

A gasp interrupted the queen's thought. Kenna heaved a sigh and straightened up her posture. "Yes, Clover?"

"By the gods, your Majesty!" Azura's former handmaiden rushed to the balcony. "Don't bend yourself like this! Or lean against the railing!"

"I'm fine, Clover," Kenna replied.

"But what if you felt dizzy and fell off? We can't have that! Allow me to help you get back to bed." The young girl took the queen's hand and guided her towards the royal bedchambers.

Knowing the handmaiden would cause a bigger fuss than the situation was, the queen simply followed the woman and returned to bed once again.

In a few minutes, servants walked in and out the queen's chambers, offering her food, wine, gifts from nobles, and entertainment. She forced a smile and politely thanked everyone, but she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

Kenna stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her body visibly changed. Her belly was growing faster than she expected, her rings no longer fit her fingers, she was hungry and get tired too easily. Even her face looked different. If this is the natural course of life, why didn't she feel ready? Would her mind ever adapt and follow?

A soft knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie.

"I don't wish any more entertainment, Clover! Thank you!" Kenna shouted.

"So I've heard…" Annelyse answered, poking her head through the partly open door.

"Annelyse!" Kenna beamed and turned around, meeting her loyal friend halfway as the other walked into the room and rushed to the queen. "It's so good to see you!"

The two queens hugged.

"It's good to see you too," Annelyse pulled away to look at her friend. "You're already showing…You look stunning."

"Thank you…" Kenna smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh no. Is something wrong?" Annelyse held her friend's hand in worry.

"Yes…" Kenna's brows knitted together. "Or not… I'm not sure."

"We should talk about while having these delicious treats brought to you then." Annelyse gestured for Kenna to sit back in the bed while she pulled up a chair closer to the warrior queen and reached for the tray with sweets.

"How are you feeling?" Annelyse asked as she poured wine for both of them.

"Bloated, bored, uneasy…" Kenna twisted her lips in a scowl.

"It happens to the best of us, Kenna. I understand if this situation is underwhelming for you. You got used to practicing sword fighting for hours every day. Now you're only allowed to take walks for a few minutes."

"Did I mention my walks are supervised?"

"The last time I heard, you were training recruits with Val when you began to lose blood."

The warrior queen frowned, averting her gaze. "I didn't mean for it to happen…"

"We all know that, Kenna," Annelyse replied then took a sip of her wine.

After eating a few loukoumades¹ and talking about different subjects, Kenna decided to talk about an important matter. "Annelyse, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How was your childhood like?"

Annelyse looked at the tray filled with sweets covered in honey and reached for one. "It was just the childhood of any other heiresses. Many tutors, nannies, handmaidens, classes to learn dancing, entertaining guests, the art of negotiations, politics…"

"And very little proximity to your parents…"

"I loved my parents dearly and my mother tried to stay as close as she could, but yes." Annelyse nodded.

"How so?"

"Sometimes, she'd take some time to teach me a few things herself. I learned everything I know about taking care of my beauty and etiquette with her. Besides, I was a really polite young girl, so she always took me to tea parties and meetings with her." The Aurelian queen smiled fondly.

"I never really cared for those things when I was a child. I always wanted to run across meadows, play with the other kids and learn how to fight." Kenna looked down at her belly and placed a hand on it. "Maybe I should have paid more attention to those moments with my mother. They were rare..."

"Don't dwell on this, my friend." Annelyse placed her hand atop Kenna's. "You were just a child. And it's a good thing that you knew your true calling since then."

"But do you think a queen can be a loving mother without becoming just a consort?"

"Perhaps… I don't have proof it happened before, but I know how much our mothers tried. It wouldn't hurt to follow their footsteps sometimes."

And just then, hope bloomed inside Kenna's mind.

Kenna was still half asleep when strong arms encircled her waist and soft lips brushed on her shoulder. Her lips curled upwards in a soft smile before her eyes fluttered open. Even if she felt tired, she couldn't help it. He always knew how to make her smile. "My love…" she whispered.

"Good evening, my queen," Raydan murmured, nuzzling her neck. "Forgive me for disturbing your sleep, but I couldn't wait to see you tomorrow. I miss you."

"It's alright…" She replied. "If you didn't wake me up, I'd go to your bedchambers in the middle of the night anyway."

His low chuckle rumbled in her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

"How are you feeling tonight?"

Kenna shifted on her side to look at him. "Bored…"

"I can imagine. You only forget your royal duties when I do this..." Lifting her chin up, Raydan pressed his lips on hers, his tongue running along her bottom lip before invading her mouth to deepen the kiss. After minutes of long heated kisses, the king finally pulled away.

"You're right. I hardly remember where I am when you kiss me."

"That's the idea."

They smiled at each other, but then her face grew serious.

"Raydan, I need to tell you something."

"I'm listening."

"After our child is born, I'll return to my duties as queen regnant."

"Yes. I only agreed to rule the Five Kingdoms on my own because you need to rest. I never wanted to rule without you," he said brushing a few locks of hair away from her face. “You’re not less of a queen because you’re not in the throne room every day. We still talk about politics and your ideas help the kingdom more than you know.”

“Don’t you think I won’t be a mediocre mother if I dedicate my time to serve the kingdoms?”

“No. I am sure our children will be happy and proud to have you as a mother. But I need you to remember you’re more than just a queen and a mother. The woman I fell in love with is a fierce warrior, smart woman, and natural leader. You can be all of those things at once. Your current delicate condition doesn’t erase the fact that you are legendary Kenna Rys. Don’t ever forget that.”

Kenna bit down her lip to stop it from quivering and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiled then kissed the tip of her nose.

Just then, Kenna shifted on the bed again, facing away from him to brush away a few tears.

“My queen?”

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…”

Craning his neck to see her face, his brows furrowed. “Are you crying?”

“No…” She sniffed.

His arms wrapped around her tightly.

“I don’t know why…” She sobbed, placing a hand over his arm. “You know me. I don’t cry so easily.”

“I heard it’s common for pregnant women to get emotional.”

“I heard about it too. But I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

A brief moment of blissful silence passed by when Kenna spoke again. “You’re not leaving me because I said I’m fine, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” he answered, kissing her shoulder again.

¹ Sweet fried dough popular in the regions nowadays knows as Greece and Turkey since the sixteenth century.

#choices fanfic #the crown & the flame #the crown and the flame fanfic #kenna rys #raydan lykel #kenna x raydan #annelyse adair #choices fic writers creations #cfwc female characters #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates #tw anxiety #tw pregnancy complications #tw blood

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amethyst-crystalfly · 3 years

Text

The stars in your eyes

Pairing| Akaashi Keiji x f! reader

Themes| fluff, tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, just lots of fluff okay?

Warning| nope none except for Akaashi being adorable

Authour’s note| Hi guys I absolutely enjoyed myself writing this pic as Akaashi Keiji occupies my whole heart. I just really think that Akaashi is the kind of guy who would take you on a classy candle lit dinner as a first date considering the kind of personality he radiates. He would absolutely plan for it days in advance and make sure everything is perfect. He is also the guy your mom would approve of and is basically the ideal guy who also secretly happens to be a hopeless romantic at heart. So here I offer you exactly that through this fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Thank you for reading! I love youu!

w/c| 2293

The night was clear and the soft late winter wind gently flowed in through your open windows. You had been anticipating for this day. You smiled at your reflection as you finished brushing your hair, satisfied with your outfit, you thought back to the day, just a week ago, when your long-time crush Akaashi finally asked you out on a date. "Wow this was really happening" you longingly wondered. “Y/n! Akaashi is here to pick you, honey” you heard your mom call. You took a deep breath, checked your reflection for one last time, grabbed your purse and phone and rushed out to meet him. As you stepped in the hallway, you saw your mom talking with him. He had a soft smile on his face as he was telling your mom about college. As he sensed you approaching, he looked up and as your eyes met, he seemed to freeze. You held your breath as he stood up, you offered him a warm smile and at that a blush tinted the tip of his ears and his cheeks. Your mom smiled at the two of you and wished you two a fun date as she decided to head to the other room, giving the two of you some privacy.

You greeted him with a soft yet enthusiastic “hi!”

“Hello, you- “he inhaled as his eyes swept over you once again “you look beautiful y/n”

“You are one to talk Akaashi” you chuckled softly

That earned you a laugh from him, “I am humbled” he said making a casually bowing gesture. “shall we?” he offered his arm with a warm smile.

You happily nodded and looped your arm through his as you both walked out of the door together. You were dressed in a wine-red gown with a thigh high slit on one side and paired it with black heels. You accessorized this outfit with a pair of simple crystal studded ear rings and a matching crystal pendant. Your open hair complemented your outfit perfectly. Beside you, Akaashi was dressed in a white shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up till his fore arms, giving you a peek at those sculpted arms. His pair of black casual trousers and his silver analog watch tied off his look perfectly. It was so simple yet elegant and classy. His style spoke of his personality perfectly. You both got in the car and headed towards the restaurant Akaashi had already planned on in advance, but of course he had finalized it only after discussing with you, he needed to make sure if you would like it too. However, if you were being honest, you would happily go anywhere this man goes, it didn’t matter where. But for obvious reasons you haven’t told him that, yet. The drive to the restaurant was about 30 mins and you both fully enjoyed those 30 minutes blissfully enjoying each other’s company and taking turns playing your favorite songs for the other. As you got off the car, you looked around admiringly to the tasteful decoration. Akaashi offered you his arm once again and you both made your way towards the reception. He had reserved a seat for the two of you in advance, the waiter led the way to your seats. It was situated beside the window? Wall? You couldn’t decide what to call it since the entire wall was made of glass. It was exquisite! it offered a wonderful view of the city considering that this hotel was situated atop a hill. The place was lit with warm yellow lights and candles, creating a perfect balance of shadows and soft lights. The tables were arranged spaciously providing each group/couple with privacy. The entire place smelled faintly of French vanilla thanks to the scented candles. The entire place appealed to you aesthetically, you really liked it. Akaashi pulled out your chair for you and helped you in. You found that small gesture extremely touching, “damn chivalry ain’t ded” you thought to yourself and suppressed a giggle at your own lame inside joke.

“You are really sweet Akaashi” you told him letting that giggle out

A waitress brought your orders to the table along with a bottle of red wine. She filled both your glasses with the crimson liquid. You both thanked her politely and she smiled and left. The delicious smell of the platter wafted to your nose and it made you realize just how eager you were to dig in but you hesitated, you did not want to do anything awkward it was your first date with Akaashi after all.

It made him blush. It wasn’t just your words that got to him but he was spell bounded by the way the candle light looked on you. The light bounced off your crystal ear rings occasionally when you moved your head. In his eyes you were the most beautiful woman out there. The way a slight blush tinted your features warmed his heart and made a soft smile bloom on his lips. As you looked at him, you were mesmerized by the way the candle light shimmered in his eyes, he looked as if he was sculpted out of alabaster by the renowned ancient Greek artists themselves. He looked so gorgeous that it made you want to be all cheesy, if he kept acting so cute heck you might end up throwing some cheesy ass pick up lines at him.

“Are you shy, Y/n?” Akaashi softly chucked teasing you

“huh-what? No! absolutely not, why would I be shy” you quickly spoke, an embarrassed blush spreading across your face.

He laughed some more, taking a small bite from his plate he casually teased, “Then why aren’t you eating, you must be shy”

You puffed your cheeks, “I am not shy” and you finally picked up a piece of the delicious food with your fork and nibbled on it.

Akaashi let out another soft laugh at your cute expression. He couldn’t resist himself as he extended his left arm adoringly and gently pulled your cheek “You are so adorable, y/n”

“Hmph but I am not shy” you grumbled out, even though your heart was practically doing cartwheels at his words of adoration.

He laughed again pulling away and getting back to his own food. You had never seen Akaashi laughing so much and be so much at ease. He was usually more composed and careful with his words this was a peek at another side of Akaashi. You could just watch him laugh and joke like this all day and be satisfied. You both took little sips of the red wine as you continued eating and talking about various topics. Conversation with Akaashi was easy and fluid, none of you had to put any effort in it, it flowed swiftly from one topic to another. All your reservations were just falling apart watching him be himself with you so easily. It made your heart soar. You both had had two servings of wine each, by the time you finished your dinner. It gave you a slightly heady feeling. As you waited for the bill you both looked out at the massive glass windows. The glistening city lights looked like little fairy orbs scattered all over the city. It was surprising that you hadn’t noticed it earlier in the evening. Maybe you were far too absorbed in Akaashi to notice.

“The city looks beautiful at night doesn’t it?” Akaashi said noticing your awed expression

“Yes, it does, it is as if someone dropped the stars from the heaven” you giggled

He looked at you with slightly dazed eyes and a soft smile illuminating his handsome face, “then you will definitely like the next place I will take you to”

“next place?” you asked turning your face towards him

“Yes, you thought I am gonna let you go so easily? He laughed

“I like the idea of that” you said

“of what?” he enquired

You said it out almost instinctively, “of you not letting me go easily” your face heated as you realized what you just said. And you cleared your throat, “we…umm-we should go”

He looked at you sidelong with an amused smile as you both stood up and prepared to leave. You dared not meet his gaze. You cursed yourself internally, “damnit y/n what are you doing? Now he is gonna think I am a complete weirdo”

As you both existed the lavish hotel the late winter breeze greeted you. The temperature had dropped comparatively. Akaashi moved closer to you and placed a hand around your waist. You did not know this but a smile still lingered on his face from your words. It had made his heart skip and he wanted to kiss you right there and tell you that he did not plan on letting go of you at all. But he resisted himself from doing that since you were in public. As you both reached the car, he opened the door and pulled out his coat from the backseat of the car and swiftly draped it around you.

“I thought we might need this” he smiled “come let me show you to the place I promised” he led you by your hand.

Your heart was basically hammering in your chest when he draped the coat around you from how close he was. Desire burned through you to just reach up and kiss him. But you shut it out focusing instead on Akaashi’s words. He was telling you how he had come here a few days back to make reservation in person and that’s when he spotted this place. He led you through a path behind the hotel. It was a winding path and was lit with beautiful tall lamp posts, illuminating the road in it’s golden light. It was a ten-minute walk and you found yourself standing at the top of the little hill. The edges were guarded off with railings and. There were trees skirting the edge of the hill and they continued down the hill in rows. As you approached the railings you were spell bounded by the view it offered. The top of the hill was dimly lit compared to the path which led you here. And that was to ensure a clear view of the night sky. The stars twinkled above you just like the city lights glowed beneath. It was absolutely beautiful. The air was filled with the scent of the trees around, a dewy forest like smell. Little fireflies twinkled in the distance among the trees. It was captivating you turned to look at Akaashi and realized he was already staring at you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth he looked away smiling at being caught. That made your smile spread wider.

You shuffled closer to his side and said “This place is beautiful Akaashi! Thank you for bringing me here”

He looked down at you and said with a smile, “Thank you for agreeing to come with me y/n, I haven’t felt so happy and at ease in a long time”

The closeness with Akaashi already made it so hard to resist yourself and he was just making this harder by being so sweet. You were feeling bold suddenly, was it the wine? Or was it just Akaashi working his charm without even being aware? Either ways you turned to face him fully and looped your arms around his neck and pulled your body closer, the coat falling off your shoulders, but you didn’t care, not right now as you gazed into Akaashi’s surprised eyes. His lips were parted in surprise at your sudden change in behavior, his hands were on your waist. And he looked absolutely irresistible. His desire was evident in his eyes. You reached up slowly and your lips were dangerously close, almost brushing. You could smell his citrus cologne up so close and you wanted nothing more than to be lost in it. His breathing was as heavy as yours as his arms tightened around your waist and you trailed your one hand down his shoulder and up his neck to cup the side of his face. He could not resist himself anymore as he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you. It was a light kiss at first,soft, sweet and careful. You both momentarily pulled away to look into each other’s eyes

“kiss me again Akaashi” you said through your ragged breathing. Looking straight into his eyes.

He did not falter a moment before kissing you passionately, His hands on your back pulling you closer towards him almost lifting you off your feet as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And to be honest he couldn’t, and neither could you. Your one hand stayed around his neck, massaging the nape of his neck and your other hand was tangled in his soft hair. You moaned into the kiss as his one hand snaked up your back to your neck. And that made him groan at how much he loved that soft sound that left you. When you two finally pulled apart both of you were gasping for air and your faces were red. As your eyes met you both let out a laugh at disbelief of what just happened. And you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest listening to the sound of his galloping heart. It was beating as fast as yours. He rested his chin on top your head and left out a content sigh.

“hey y/n”

“umhmm?” you asked, happily watching the city lights twinkle below

“I really don’t plan on letting you go”

“Neither do I, Akaashi” you said snuggling closer to him.

#author's note #akaashi keji x reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi icons #akaashi scenarios #akaashi fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #hq fluff #tooth rotting fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #akaashi smut

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