#i can just visualize him just running around the base with a grin from ear to ear

[tyrianluda]

not to continue musicmaxxing, but Uncontrollable Urge by DEVO except its medic commiting medical crimes against humanity sillystyle all the way from his old hospital to the tf2 base

[yinses]

make it a show

| gojo has been away for awhile and now he’s missed … times two |

gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

rating: 18*

rqst: okay okay why choose between  geto and  gojo? why not just have both?

a/n: why not indeed.

it starts with an i miss you text.

gojo was on another long mission. his reputation often preceded him in the worst ways and popularity drew him across the country- and then some. for two weeks now he’d been in europe trying to clear out an infestation.

he still checked in when he could. sending short texts to probe about your day and shooting tourist pictures to showcase the better parts of his trips. he made sure to send different sets to suguru, giving you both the opportunity to snuggle close and share the crumbs your mutual boyfriend left behind.

its twenty minutes later, after said text, that gojo boasts about the free premium wifi upgrade that had come with his hotel reservation. and less than two minutes go by before he decides what he planned to do with that commodity.

above your head, gojo takes in the scene eagerly from the face of your phone.

“so what are you wearing?”

you make a choked sound somewhere stuck between a laugh and a moan as geto laps firmly at the dampening fabric of your panties. his fingers run along the elastic, cheekily plucking and letting it snap back against your skin with a smack.

undeterred, your other boyfriend mumbles something incomprehensible before latching onto your clit and toys with you through the fabric.

gojo’s bangs fall into his face as he huffs, electric blue eyes darkening with lust. “this isn’t just show and tell, you two. don’t ignore me.”

his whine is cute, you think as your back arches off the bed when geto adds suction to his play through. your gaze darts down when you feel a nibble to the inside of your thigh- a nudge to get those lips moving.

“i-uh… the purple one’s,” you manage. thankfully you’re still wearing them otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to properly reply.

“aw, why couldn’t you have worn the blue ones?”

because you sudden thrust this upon us, you wanted to remind him. nor were you exactly keen on dirting up a new pair just for some quick fun.

“drop your knee to the side, honey. i want to see suguru work.”

you comply, letting the limb framing geto’s head come to rest by his shoulders. it improves your view too, just catching his dark gaze before his head drops back down again. his fingers finally hook on the edge and drag the fabric down your legs and gojo whistles at the sight.

“i don’t know what’s wetter. your pussy or his lips. but i guess its a packaged deal given the circumstances.”

he’s the only one who chuckles at that, as usual.

geto adds fingers, slender limbs sliding through your slick and circle your entrance.

“if you’re going to eat her out properly, let me see too.” he directs his attention to you. “hold the phone up for me, sweetheart. at least do some of the work.”

its snarky enough that you almost don’t want to comply but then geto is pausing and you know its a command to follow. reaching behind, you grasp the device and settle the camera facing just below your navel. as the new sole source of focus, geto raises his head and gives a cheeky little grin.

gojo coos immediately at the sight,” hey, baby. fuck you look beautiful today.”

the frame of the phone obscures your vision a little but you swear you see geto blush at the compliment. how could he not. even in another country, gojo was a smooth man.

“wish i was behind you right now, making you feel as good as you’re making her.”

gojo was always good at this- the phone sex. but he exceeded the expectations whenever he was granted a visual.

“eat her out for me, yeah? fuck, i bet i could taste it.”

the audio picks up on the shifting of clothing as gojo shimminging his pants down his hips to free his cock. he keeps the camera at the perfect angle fit the slow fisting of his cock in the frame

“you’re not in charge here, satoru,” geto murmurs all while lowering his head anyway. his mouth latches back onto your throbbing heat and fits his tongue between your labia. the hands finding purchase at your hips urge you to grind down as the talented muscle flicks up. sparks of pleasure prickles your nerves and you reach around the phone to tug the band free from his bun. before the dark tresses could trickle down against you, you’re there to comb it back.

“fuck- toru .. he feels so good.”

there is a hitch to gojo’s voice, something of a light pant as he responds. “i can see him, honey. he spoils you so good.”

geto’s nose brushes your clit when you rock forward and you cry out at the unexpected friction. he pulls back enough to return his fingers to the slick of your sex, two fingers easily dipping into your core. your hand slides to the back of his skulls as his fingers adopt a rhythm.

gojo seems keen on torturing himself by edging his fingers along the sensitive head without providing the needed friction. the distorted pleasure in his voice sounds like something is caught but you know he’s just staving it off as long as he can. you wonder how flushed his face is right now, but you can’t bring yourself to interrupt geto enough to ask for an update.

“he’s going to fuck you so good, honey. bet you’re loose enough for it.” gojo swallows audibly and you can tell he’s pushed back yet another orgasm. “tell him you’re ready. … please.”

with a simpering plea like that how could you not comply.

the free hand not currently working you towards nirvana, slides up your stomach to cup the weight of your breast. unable to resist, your legs come up to squeeze around the protruding limb, shamelessly rocking against the muscle of his bicep.

“fucking hell, you’re such a dirty girl.”

you can only whine when geto flexes in response, or maybe its because of the fingers finally leaving you. the same wet fingers take the phone from you, leaving a tacky residue behind. the bed shifts as geto rises to his knees, shaking away your hold.

he’s looking at you properly now, mouth free. “i’m waiting on that begging.”

cheeks warm and lips bitten raw, you give his leg one last desperate hump, hoping eager desperation can smooth the way. “please fuck me. make gojo cum,” you add and to your satisfaction the man’s groan rumbles against your stomach.

geto leans over you to drag a free pillow closer. the phone mostly sinks into the plush fabric but he’s able to angle it in just right. from the corner of your eye you can finally see gojo, skin flushed and cock fat and leaking. his hand works in short jerks, thumb darting across the head the way he likes.

geto’s hands pry your legs apart again, but his attention is directed to the phone.” you going to hold out on us all night? this is a mutual exchange,” he teases.

your other boyfriend huffs, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of geto stripping bare. “i think i liked you better when your mouth is full.”

geto doesn’t miss a beat. “you normally do.”

he takes one of your thighs up and hooks it at his hip. geto takes you slowly, making you feel every inch and drag as he parts your folds with his cock. the burn is absent but the stretch persists as you babble. where gojo favored length, geto was graced with width. frankly they were right to call you spoiled, blessed with the best of both worlds.

“is he all the way in, princess?” gojo’s voice is strained as he asks as if he can’t see half of the cock still working its way in.

your tongue is thick and heavy but you manage, whimpers with eager hope the sounds might coax him to go faster. you could only ask, after all, geto rarely took kindly to unsolicited demands. “not yet, but i already feel so full, toru.”

“fuck yeah you do. always such a snug fit. can’t get enough of either of you.”

geto continues to ease himself deeper, confident and calculated, until the base nudges your clit. large hands caress the curve and down to your hip to squeeze the flesh. it marks the steady increase of his pace, hips drawing back nearly all the way before smacking back against you pelvis.

he wasn’t a quiet lover, but he knew when to take advantage of gojo’s presence. his shadow encompasses you as the edge of his teeth drag against your jaw. ”make it pretty for him, bunny,” he coos against the shell of your ear. “make him come home.” is emphasized by a firm thrust that rocks your entire body.

then he’s pulling back to haunches before gojo can complain about the obscured view.

your fingers grasp at the sheets when he thrusts into you at a sharper angle. the hand at your hip goes tighter as he fucks the tremble right out of you. you can still see gojo, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he matches the pace driving into you. able to catch the silent prayer in his gaze, you answer is with a broken whine.

“he’s really giving it to you ... and you’re taking it so well,” his breathing is short, heavy with his impending climax.

“he’s so deep, toru. i feel like there isn’t even room to squeeze him. geto groans when you try, hissing through his teeth as he picks up the pace. you try to maintain eye contact with the distant shaman but he’s not doing a good job either. blue eyes greedily take in everything there is to offer, darting from the jiggle of your breast to the bead of sweat forming on geto’s temple.

everyone’s tipping the edge. you can feel the palpable tension in the air on the brink of snapping.

your vision whites out the moment he starts to spurt, thick strands bringing the arc of his hips to a sloppy grind. the harsh pant against your lips is a brief warning before he swallows your tongue eagerly, groaning the remnants of his release into your mouth.

in your ear, gojo follows the sentiment, breathing heavily. you can imagine the mess he makes of himself, chest white with sticky streaks of cum. he is very much out of breath but chuckles anyway as geto pulls himself free.

“messaged received. i’ll try to get home soon.”

[inviouswriting]

Shower

Simeon x Fem!Reader

Smut. Very... very... smut.

Below the cut has the content for it.

Warnings - It's a smut, but has cockwarming, blowjobs, cunninglus, hairpulling, overstimulation, a mild predatory Simeon, letting that other side he has surface a tad bit, mirrors, a good time.

Shower.

“What do you say to something sweet?”

“I could use some sugar.” You smile up at him, and his eyes seem to shine from the idea of something more.

“Give me a little time to prepare something then.” Simeon disentangles himself from you, you sigh when you move off of Simeon’s lap giving him a forlorn stare at being out of his arms. He just beams a gentle smile. You forgive him, it is hard not to when he has a look of innocence to him. Yet you know what lays underneath that gentle exterior he puts up.

“Alright, I am going to go shower to warm up a little.” You inform him, and he nods in agreement, Simeon looks at the mess left behind, a smirk graces his lips at just how much you were turned on. He goes to work on cleaning the table of the water and yours and his evidence you did anything on the table. He will now have memories of what you both did while eating at it.

His attention is drawn to your DDD going off, and he lifts it to see who was messaging you this early in the morning. It was Mammon, Simeon quickly responds to the message saying you are unavailable, before shutting the phone down so you are alone with Simeon longer. The brothers can wait one day without you.

Simeon feels a little selfish for it, but when the others hog and hound you every waking moment in the day. He does feel jealous when they ask for your time when you are with him. The angel sets about preparing something, hearing the water of the shower just starting. He thinks of something that he can use with you in the shower, tapping a hand to his face. He still feels the sting in his back from your nails, scratches he might enjoy showing off to make others wonder what he does to make you lose control.

Simeon looks in a pantry for an idea to jump out and grins as he tugs out a hidden box he has for chocolates, out of Luke’s reach. He takes a few pieces setting them on a plate and starts heading into the bathroom to catch you before you get out.

You were finishing rinsing conditioner out when you hear the door open and close. The clink of a plate being set down, and gentle humming from Simeon as he stripped to join you. You feel arms circle around your waist tugging you back against himself.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.” Simeon murmurs in your ear, and you relax more when he turns your head to meet him for a kiss. You meet him in a sweet one, a chaste peck before a full deep one. The tongue that prods at the entrance of your mouth is welcomed. Your eyes widen over the sweetness that graces your tongue; you instantly kiss him harder to get more of the chocolate that was on his tongue.

Simeon turns you in his arms to make it comfortable and walks you back to pin you to the shower wall. He pushes his tongue deep into your mouth letting you suck on the appendage as he explores your mouth, memorizing your own unique taste. You hadn’t realized you were moaning into the kiss until you come up for air, panting at the loss of his lips. The tingling kiss that leaves you wanting so much more.

“Air, my lamb, you need to breathe.” He kisses the side of your mouth, and you part your lips for another kiss, only to have him lick your lips. A tease, you chase after him, wanting to kiss him longer. Simeon avoids your mouth, planting small kisses along your jaw, even rubbing his cheek to yours affectionate before he gives you another kiss that makes your head spin.

Simeon lowers his gaze to yours as he seals another kiss with you. You keep your lips parted as he prods your tongue to explore him. You tilt your head up into the kiss, you feel one of his hands palm a breast, squeezing it till his fingers tug at your nipple rolling the nub between his index and thumb. You feel your head spinning much more and legs quivering from the way he makes you feel with affection like this.

The angel breaks the liplock in favor of biting down on your shoulder, you can feel a fang digging in enough for the pressure but not enough to break your skin. A full suck placed on that spot, he even grazes his teeth along your flesh, being mindful of where he leaves his love bites, never on main veins or arteries. When he is satisfied with the red on your neck he gives it a loving kiss, before moving onto the next spot.

You soak up his attention, every ounce he gives when he is like this. You feel your legs trembling, even more when his other hand slides up along your thigh to press his fingers into you. Simeon holds you up against the wall when your legs buckle from the pleasure of him pushing deep three fingers curling them just right. Hot moans fall from your lips right into his ear your mouth is next to, Simeon feels your teeth on it tugging. This makes him thrust his fingers into you a bit faster, you feel yourself losing your grip on standing.

“Go ahead, I have you.” Simeon says into your ear, and under his guide he helps you onto the floor of the shower. He keeps your legs apart as he has free range now to thrust his fingers as deep as they get. You feel yourself overwhelmed in pleasure that you move a hand on top of his to guide him into touching you. Simeon responds with using his thumb to circle and flick over your clit. He sees your legs shaking and stops his hand ministrations, pulling his fingers free from your pussy. You see his fingers covered in your fluids and he looks at it impressed.

“Really made a mess of you here. I am sorry to be a little selfish now but listening to you... and seeing you in such a state.” Simeon sits so his back is against the wall out of the spray of the water. Your eyes go down to his cock and see what he is asking for. He is painfully hard that you see precum streaming from the tip.

“Would you please suck me?” Simeon asks face pink, even grabbing the base of his erection to offer himself, the allure of his blue eyes heated and you crawl forwards to help him out.

“Of course.” You agree, seeing his face light up in relief to the request. You lean down and move a hand to take over for Simeon. You touch over the soft skin of his cock giving him a few tugs to hear him sigh impatient. You run your tongue along the underside following a path of precum to the tip. Once there you sweep your tongue along the very end of the slit teasing him as he had teased you earlier. His response is his hands on the back of your head to guide you down to take him. You deliberately miss taking him into your mouth in favor of kissing along the top of the head and down the shaft.

The grip in your hair tightens just a hair harder from the building pressure he feels. Maybe a bit frustrated, if you had to chance a stare up to the angel’s face he is giving you that one stare to stop messing around with him. You give him one more tease in apology, kissing back up the length of his shaft along the underside paying close attention to the very sensitive spot just below the glands, a spot he loves when you go down on him.

You admire the color difference of the bright pink tip among dark skin, before you take the head into your mouth. Simeon sighs in approval when you go down as far till the tip hits the back of your throat. You still had three inches till you met the base, but you move up to suck on him, following the rhythm of his hips when he thrusts into your mouth. Moans falling from your angel’s mouth in almost a sinful song. Yet what you two do is far from a sin with the love you have.

Simeon feels a blissful sensation run through his spine when you take those last remaining inches. You concentrate on not gagging on him, pulling up to lave your tongue around the head then back down. You press your fingers on his sac rolling it as you please him. Simeon’s hand on your head pets through your hair lovingly.

What he wasn’t prepared for was when you pulled your mouth off to suck just on the tip of his cock, looking up at him as you do so. You focus your attention right here, seeing your angel come undone with a visual that will wonder if he will be able to return to the Celestial Realm after his time with you. A sweet and salty flavor spreads across your tongue, and you look up at Simeon’s face. His eyes are closed, and he is panting hard as more floods your mouth. You greedily swallow his cum down, not wasting or spilling a drop, even squeezing his balls for a little more as you milk him of his seed.

When Simeon opens his eyes, he is greeted to another sight that starts making him hard all over again. You noticed him about to open his eyes and rest the flat of your tongue against his cock underneath as the last of his semen coats your tongue. You give him such a stare, as you use the tip of your tongue to tease the slit.

“My lamb... you have no idea what you do to me.” Simeon rests his hand back on your head and guides your mouth off him. You sit on the floor as you clean your face from any remnants. Simeon watches you for a few minutes, then remembers you have yet to cum yourself. He tilts your head up with a hand and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Let me return the favor now? I was unfair to you.” You get his words, and sit back only to be guides to lay on the floor. Simeon reaches over to turn the water off feeling it running cold. He then lifts your waist up and strewns your legs over his shoulders. You shiver when you feel his hot tongue against your slit again, and pushes his tongue inside of you. He wastes little time in pleasing you, aiming to get you off fast to match him to relax before he is ready for another full romp.

Simeon’s fingers fit in along his tongue, scissoring your hole open to hold your walls so his tongue can delve deep like how he was kissing you earlier. You feel heat pooling at your belly, and you don’t control your voice anymore when you feel him swirl his tongue inside. He never cares about his own taste, not when he aims to please you. Your toes curl when he focuses running circles with his tongue on your clit before sucking on the nub till he feels your entire body shaking.

You cover your own mouth with your arm, biting into it to keep from making high pitched cries. Simeon uses the fingers he has inside to pump when his tongue is outside, then hold your hole open to push his tongue deep, then pulls back to suck on your clit.

“Don’t bite yourself my love. Let me hear you, you know I won’t let up till you scream my name.” A teasing but chiding lilt to his voice, and you pull your arm from your mouth to moan out when he focuses his attention solely on your clit. He uses his fingers to push the hood covering it back and you feel immense pressure in your belly.

“That’s it... about to cum for me... let go...” You feel mortified, as you hold back, you didn’t want to on his face. Yet he was drawing it out of you. Even pushing his tongue deep again his mouth closing over your pussy. The pleasure is too much and after his fingers bump one spot inside of you, you let go in a full gush, screaming his name as loud as possible letting it echo through the shower.

Simeon hums happy to himself as his tongue is greeted with a sweet taste. He knew the difference between fluids, and getting you to squirt was a favorite of his. He keeps lapping at your folds from opening to clit to get all of the fluid that you released.

You are let back down and all you could do was shake and shudder from your last orgasm. Simeon grins to himself at reducing you to such a state, he crawls over top of you, and you lazily greet him in a brief kiss. You smooth your hands through his dark hair, petting his head, paying attention to the top of his head and his face. Gentle rubbing that has him nuzzling his cheek to yours in affection, wanting more with you.

“I want more...” Simeon says, and you knew what he meant. You know the angel wants a lot more than just oral, you admire the way he has stamina to burn through. Part of you wonders if you had a whole day and night with him, of when you can wear him out. You haven’t been able to yet, wondering if it is an angel thing to never tire.

Simeon kisses along your neck again, over the love bites he made. He notes how high they are, that you will have a hard time hiding them from anyone else.

“Good, I want more too... you think we could have fun in front of the mirror?” You voice an idea to Simeon, and see his face light up at the idea. He gets to his knees and collects you into his arms. You both had dried enough for this, and your angel brings you both over to the full floor length mirror. Simeon tests your body to see if you are ready for him again, pushing two fingers inside of you gently, pumping them enough to arouse you. He enjoys the way you grip his fingers, still sensitive to his ministrations.

You are guided with him to sit down with him, Simeon guiding you to sit in his lap, adjusting himself so he can enter you. You press your face against the cold glass of the mirror at the stretch, his fingers and mouth were never a comparison to the size his dick is. After Simeon bottoms out entirely, you feel arms circle around your waist and tugs you to sit in his lap. The motion sends him as deep as he gets, and your hands go to your abdomen where you feel him.

“Good? Too much?” Simeon checks with you, as he moves his hands to guide your legs to rest over his knees. The mirror in front of you; your eyes wander to it, and you were not prepared for the sight that greeted you. Simeon keeps your legs apart with his knees, you see a predatory gaze in his eyes. One you’ve seen on the dance floor. His gaze pins your eyes to his, and you fidget in his arms.

Simeon settles with resting his head in the crook of your neck. He drops his eyes down to from yours to where you are connected to him. Your eyes follow and your face lights up pink at how much of you is stretched to fit the angel. He even tests how much more he can fit with a bump of his hips up, the thrust makes you yelp in pleasure.

“You look good like this, on me, with me inside. I fit perfect... you are so warm and wet. I never want to pull out again... I want to keep doing this.” Simeon lowers a hand down to spread your folds apart getting a better look at your stretched hole around his cock. Simeon uses his free hand at your waist to push you down till the only part visible is his sac, while the rest is buried to the hilt.

You feel full of him, even with his subtle rocking to keep from being stuck. Loving kisses are placed along your shoulder, to the corner of your cheek. You tilt your head away, and Simeon kisses more of your neck, pressing his cheek to yours to feel the soft of your cheek to his own. He is lovingly like this, and you see the expression on his face. Purely happy that you keep it in mind.

Simeon tilts your head back to his, seeking your lips for a kiss. You follow his guide even as he begins to move, bucking his hips up to bounce you on his cock. You open your mouth for a moan only to be muffled with Simeon pushing his tongue deep into your mouth again. You wish you could cling to him, your hands clench and unclench till your angel finds them to lace your fingers together.

Through a cracked eye, Simeon watches you through the mirror, seeing the way your pussy swallows his cock, you feel him twitch. He sees how drenched you are, and the sounds of skin against skin filling the air. Simeon focuses on the sensation around him, tight and warm with wet, he sees the way you glide down on him. He even stills himself a few times just to make you grind on him.

“Please... Simeon...” You plea with him, you feel a kiss on your neck.

“Please what?” His tone is always gentle in your ear, you grip his hands tighter, and he matches your needy grip grounding you to him.

“I want to...” Soft nibbling kisses on your lips, he catches your bottom lip to bite enough to feel his teeth but not enough to break skin.

“You want to what? Cum again? Hold out a little longer my lamb. I’m not anywhere close yet.” You let out a moan, and hold yourself back from that feeling. Simeon feels you clench around him, and he drives himself harder into you, his hands now on your waist guiding you down, rocking you with his hips. Simeon tires of the position you two are in, and arranges you to have you pushed against the mirror in front of you. You brace yourself against the surface, pressing your face against it; Simeon pulls your hips back to his and begins a hard and unrelenting pace to get himself closer to that blissful release feeling.

You are met with pleasure surging through your entire body, your toes curl and your legs shake from each thrust in as he sheds being gentle for want and need now. Each thrust in you are met with the feeling of him bumping your cervix. Your nails scratch at the surface of the mirror, not able to leave indents in it like you did the table earlier.

Simeon lets his own moans out, focused solely on the sensation of your pussy gripping his dick when he thrusts inside. You feel a hand smooth into your hair, nails scratching delightfully along your scalp as Simeon grabs a handful and starts tugging till your head is arched wonderfully back not going far to where it strained. The pull of your hair adds onto what you are feeling, you whine in a way, where he shoves himself deep and stills to bring you down from an orgasm.

“Not yet.” He warns, you feel shivers down your spine from his tone of voice. You hadn’t heard it since the play, and it excited you than scared you in this moment. Simeon lets go of your hair in favor of pulling you up with an arm under your chest, pushing you flush against the mirror. His eyes going down to focus on his cock thrusting in and out of you. You feel him twitching inside of you and your eyes open to find his face twisted in absolute pleasure.

“Alright, my lamb... alright.. Now.. Please.. Let me feel you. Cum for me please...” Simeon’s free hand goes to slip along your folds rubbing your clit in fast circles to stimulate you further. His thrusts are jerky and uneven, There is a swell you feel accompanied by loud moans against your neck where he buries his face into. You are turned on by the sight of your angel completely gone out of control of himself that when you cum again you release such a loud moan that his eyes snap open to see if he hurt you by accident. Instead he is greeted to the same look in his eyes. Fully blissed out and he has to thrust up hard to bury himself from you almost pushing him out.

“My own angel... my love.. My lamb... you are beautiful like this... let me enjoy this further.. Please..” Simeon cums shortly after you do, his own voice echoing out in the shower that seeing him lost in bliss. You can almost make out the halo. You feel hot seed flood inside of you, and Simeon pulls you into his arms to sit back again. Your head tilted to his as he claims your kiss bruised lips swallowing further moans before moving to lay on your sides together.

Simeon stays connected to you for a bit longer, enjoying the heat he feels around him. He keeps his face in the nape of your neck, both of you just outside the view of the mirror. He has one of your legs strewn over his and a hand down massaging your folds around his cock. He spreads them and when you respond by closing your leg on top of his hand to trap it there and grind. Simeon nudges your legs apart enough for him to tease you again.

“I’m too sensitive, Simeon please have mercy.” You plea with him, and feel a kiss to the side of your face.

“Alright, we still have a bit more time. What would you like to do with me?” Simeon runs his hand along your arm and shoulder, feeling how soft it is. You think about his question.

“A bath before we continue? I want to be in your room again.” Simeon hears you and thinks about moving. His thoughts are drawn out when you squeeze him.

“Can we stay like this a little longer? I’m not ready to separate.” You hear him and feel a moment that is beyond just a little intimate. He is insatiable and you are as well with the time allotted to you both to spend exploring and loving each other.

“We can stay like this a bit longer, but can we adjust so I can see your face too?” Simeon agrees and pulls from you long enough to flip you to face him. You blush when he guides himself back inside and you roll your hips down till his cock is fully buried into you once more.

Here you meet his gaze and stare, gentle and you roam your palms over his chest. Simeon enjoys the feel of your palms like this, he returns the touching with his hands down the middle of your back pulling you closer. You move your hands up to his face and rub your thumbs over his cheeks tugging him to meet you in a kiss. You never give him just one kiss, after he has expressed how much just one doesn’t convey his feelings. You rapidly give him kiss after kiss, all over his face earning happy hums of approval. Your fingers get brave and you run a teasing scratch on his shoulders, grazing the skin till he pins you underneath him again.

“If you keep this up, I’ll just have to take you again right here, forgetting the bath and bedroom. Think we can make it to the bedroom?” You look up at him, that same predatory gleam to his eyes, you know it lurks within him, you have seen it with the brothers. They all possess that stare when they want something. Simeon’s are directly on you, and you know he wants you alone, to himself.

“I think we can make it to the bedroom. However, I don’t think I want to.” You answer him truthfully.

“Good. I don’t think I want to either. If I had my way, I will have you on every single surface of Purgatory Hall. Before anyone we know is set to return.” Simeon affirms that he rather stay in the bathroom with you, taking you repeatedly till you are too worn out to move.

[cayofdreams]

A Succubus’ Dilemma

Summary: Succubus!Reader is struggling with her identity as she gets closer to Kirishima. She wants to continue being the diligent, strong-willed hero that he praises her for being but the presence of Eijirou Kirishima is making that unbearably difficult. She just can't pretend to be quirkless anymore…

Words: 4.5k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut 

Warnings: cursing, virginity (but there’s no explicit mention of it), oral (receiving), aphrodisiac, heavy overstimulation, a bit of corruption, kinda dark ending? 

Notes: ~Welcome to another steamy piece from your favorite island resort~ 

This one is pretty straight-forward. I feel like I kicked up the smut on this one. Also, I based the ending off one of the endings of one of my favorite yaoi visual novels :-)              

You were lying down on Kirishima’s bed, deeply engrossed in the romantic scene transpiring on your phone’s screen. You had decided to entertain yourself with an episode from your favorite show while your best friend was in the shower.

‘I love you, Jake. But…I just want to wait before we get intimate. I’m just not ready, right now’

‘Of course, Kathrine! I’ll wait however long it takes! You’re so much more to me than a warm body!’

‘You say that…but what if I choose to stay celibate forever?’

‘Then you can live with the confidence that I, Jake Petersmith, have wholeheartedly loved you for the wonderful human that you are!  

‘Oh, Jake! 

‘Kathrine!’

You were tearing up at the cheesy displays of affection since you were a sucker for all things romantic. You loved how characters seemed to have an undying love for one another. Often, you fantasized about sharing that kind of ethereal love with someone yourself. How it would be to run together through a field of sunflowers, or skip hand-in-hand on the sandy surfaces of the beach, or even make couple pranksters YouTube videos that were so obviously not faked.

But that kind of future won’t happen for you. It can’t. Not in the gross body you were in. Surely you were easy on the eyes, but what lurked inside was a demon that constantly bewitched your thoughts. Making you see people around you as simply meat sticks and sticky caverns to be engorged in.

Simply put, you were a succubus. Or at least had a succubus-like quirk. You never told anyone though, only being known to your parents. You tried so hard to reign in these feelings on a daily basis while pretending to be quirkless. But it was becoming increasingly difficult as you got older and as you hung around the likes of…Kirishima.

Oh Kirishima. He was such a beautiful human on the inside and out. Always praising and encouraging you. Being there for you when it seemed you were at your worst low points, and then being there to pick you up and trophy you around when you succeeded at doing even just the bare minimum. You wished you could return even half the happiness to him that he gave you throughout your days at U.A. You wanted to do all the romantic things you saw in movies and books with him. Kirishima was just such a sunshine in your life and you wanted him to continue warming you for the rest of it.

There was a time where 90% of your thoughts toward him were like this…and then as time went on, they became more savagely. Where all you wanted was for him to sink those sharp teeth in your flesh, ravaging your body with a cock that could probably barely even fit inside you, holding you within those arms- those beautifully muscular arms that glistened provocatively with sweat when he trained. You wanted him. Needed him. Please desire me, Eijirou.

You were about to slip your hands down your underwear when you heard the creak of the door open.

“L/N!! Did you miss me?! I’m back!” Kirishima bursted through the door with that wide grin you loved so much.

Of course, I freaking missed you, Eijirou. You were only gone for 11 minutes, 35 seconds, and 23 milliseconds. But I missed every moment.

You covered up your lust with a chuckle. “You weren’t even gone that long.”

“Aww don’t say that!! I missed you, you know.” He teased at you.

Don’t tempt me, baby

“Haha, whatever, Kiri…” You sat up as Kirishima slumped down on the floor next to his coffee table and pulled out his laptop. “So what are we watching, tonight?”

“Hmm…not sure! What do you wanna watch, L/N?” He turned his head to smile back at you. He was so cute. So gorgeous. And your erotic thoughts seemed to be running rampant right now. Especially at the fact that the two of you would be huddled up alone together for who knows however long a movie marathon is. You had to find a way to quickly rid yourself of these thoughts.

“Mmm, let me look up some! Hold on.” A blatant lie. You were going to google get-dry-quick schemes so you could enjoy the rest of the night safely with Kirishima. It was the least he deserved after training so hard today.

HOW TO NOT BE HORNY??!!1!

You analyzed your search results before clicking on a forum where someone seemed to be going through the same dilemma as you.

‘Hello, my name is [redacted] and I’m horny all the time ☹. I’ve lost so many boyfriends because of it and I truly want to find a husband, but it would be silly of me to expect them to drop everything to please me. How can I stop these feelings?’

Someone just like you! You weren’t alone in this cruel abyss. Perhaps she also had a succubus quirk!

Looking through the answers wasn’t much help for the most part. Most of the replies being trolls who asked where she was so they could “help” her. Even worse were the ones that chastised her for her feelings. Saying she was impure and needed to change her ways.

But your eyes were intrigued at the first comment that seemed to provide some kind of helpful information.

‘You might be a nymphomaniac. Have you tried talking with a professional?’

A nym- what? What was that? You opened another tab.

What is a nympomiac?

Too concerned with research to get the correct spelling, you saw articles for definitions of the auto-corrected word.

Nym∙pho∙ma∙ni∙ac

               Noun: a woman with uncontrollable or excessive sexual desire

Gasping at the accuracy you divulged further.

How to not be a nymphomiakc?

A lot of the results for this returned with solutions that were too time-consuming. Prescribed medication, cognitive therapy, and even some evil medieval treatments that involved leeches.

But you needed something now. Why were all these long-winded answers so abundant?! Couldn’t they just give you something to do now? What the fuck would you have to do?? Shove an iceblock your pussy?? Should you go ask Todoroki for a favor??

You were in the middle of texting Todoroki when Kirishima pulled you out of your frenzy.

“You find anything, L/N?”

“Gyahh! What?!” You dropped your phone and looked at Kirishima like you were a deer caught in his headlights.

“Woah, you okay there?! Did I scare you? Maybe horror isn’t a good idea, then.” His worried face could send you to the grave. How could you let him worry about you like this?

“Ohh..no Kiri. I’m fine. We can just watch whatever you want.” You eased your breaths, desperately trying to sound normal.

“You sure?! Awesome! There’s this zombie flick I’ve been meaning to watch but I get kinda scared watching stuff like that alone.” He clicked around happily through some tabs on his browser. “I think if its with someone as courageous as you, I’ll be less scared.”

Was he trying to make you cry? Saying something so beautiful like that with a face like his. Shame on him, honestly.

“I’m gonna play it now, you ready?”

“Mmhm”

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

The movie so far was just as you hoped: grotesque, gory, horrifying, and most importantly, non-arousing. It helped that you stayed on the bed while Kirishima sat on the floor, so I guess that was cheating, but nonetheless necessary.  

“You doin’ okay up there, L/N?” Kirishima checked up on you. You had probably been suspiciously quiet due to concentrating on waving away any little lewd thoughts.

“Oh yeah, what about you, Kiri?”

“W-Well! I was kinda thinking! That maybe uhh…I could possibly join you up there?” He scratched his head in nervousness at his slighty flirty suggestion.

Oh no

“Up where?”

“On the bed. Y-you know…with you?”

At this point you didn’t really know whether to praise or curse the gods above you. If there was one thing you could be sure to thank them for, it was the dark room that hid the flustering of your facial expression.

“I-Its your bed after all…”

“I know! I guess its just- heheh..nevermind! I’m hopping up!” Kirishima rugged his massive body on the bed next to you. Even taking some of the blanket you had so you’d be forced to share with him, he just softly smiled as he did so.

This was way too much for the hellion within you to handle. You could smell his strong scent from beside you. His breathing more pronounced in your ear drums. And its like you could feel his heartbeat within you. Pulsating inside you…

Things would take a turn for the worse when it seemed like a sweet romantic scene was about to show up. The two main leads were alone in a bunker and one of them had just revealed they were bitten.

“Samuel, Nooo!”

“Lilia! Listen to me! I need you to hear what I have to say.”

“We don’t have time, Samuel! We- We need to get you medicine. We have to! We have-“

“Stop, Lilia! There’s nothing that can save me now! You and I both know what happens from here.”

“Samuel…”

“Lilia… I want you to be the one who does it.”

“I can’t…Samuel..I can’t”

“You have to, Lilia. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Don’t do this, Sam…”

“I love you, Lilia.”

“Oh Samuel! I’ll never be with anyone else! Ever!”

“Lilia…”

The words lingered in your head as the movie continued on.

‘I’ll never be with anyone else’

Was such an option available to you? Even if you did take away the innocence of your love, Kirishima Eijirou, who’s to know how your body would react? The best result would be that your body would finally be satisfied and you’d no longer have these perverse thoughts.

On the other hand, maybe you’d just sink further and further down. Drowning in the suffocating waters of lust. And then what? Kirishima can’t just drop everything to cater to your needs. No. He was going to be hero. An amazing one at that.

But Kirishima wasn’t just a hero, he was your best friend. You felt awful every time he would praise your strong-willed persona. Saying how amazing you were despite being quirkless. He’d even say you were more manly than him at times. It was like you were betraying him. You were betraying that innocent smile he wore for you everyday…you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Kirishima.”

He looked back at you, surprised at your rare use of his name. Sensing something was wrong he paused the movie and turned his entire body to face yours.

“L/N, what’s wrong”

You were doing it again. Making him worry over you. But you couldn’t keep holding in this secret. You needed to tell him.

“I have to ask you something…”

“Please ask! I’m listening with all ears, L/N” He perked up at you. He looked just like a puppy, waiting for your every move like that.

“What do you think about…impulsive people?”

“Huh? Impulsive people?” He scratched his head at the question. “Well…I guess they’re entertaining to watch? Kind of like Bakugou. But I suppose being too impulsive is bad. You could get yourself or others in danger.”

Your head lowered at his statement, eyes closing shut. Of course he would say something like that. It’s only natural for humans to be mindful of their indulgences. They had to. It’s a part of social conformity after all.

Yet still, it hurt.

He noticed your displeasure in his answer.

“What’s wrong, L/N? Why did you ask that? You’re not impulsive at all!” He was trying to cheer you up, but it only dug the knife further into your chest. “You’re one of the most dignified, tough, and resilient people I know!”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes and before you could object him he continued.

“A-and that’s why…That’s why I love you, F/N. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

As much as you wanted to pull him close to you and pamper him with kisses, you needed to come clean. You shot up from the bed, your back faced towards him and your handing closing into a clenched fist.

“That can’t happen, Kirishima! It won’t work!”

Kirishima followed you by jumping up from the bed, grabbing you by the arms to get you to face him. “Why, F/N?! Why can’t it happen? Is there something wrong with me?! Please just tell me!”

“Nooo…nooo there’s nothing wrong with you, Kiri..” The waterworks flowed from your eyes and violent sobs escaped from you. You slumped down on your knees in sorrow. Kirishima joined you on the floor and tried to pull you into him, but you’d jerk your body away. “You know nothing about me, Kirishima…I’ve- I’ve lied to you.”

“What do you mean, F/N? What did you lie about? I’m sure its not that bad!”

“I’m not quirkless, Kiri…” A couple more sobs came out of you. “I-I’m a demon…a succubus. A filthy succubus! Just a filthy disgusting succubus!!”

Not being able to stand your self-hatred, he grabbed you by the jaw to force you to look at him. His blazingly crimson eyes met your beautifully wet e/c ones. “Stop that, F/N! You’re not disgusting! Or filthy! You could never be those things!”.

You gripped his wrist and pulled it harshly away from you. “What would you know?! You don’t know the things I deal with inside this wicked head of mine! I encompass the most obscene thoughts about people! About you! Every morning I think about how I’m going to seduce you and get you to desire me just as much as I do! Every training session I look at that beautifully sculpted body of yours and I mentally defile it! Thinking of you as nothing more than a walking, breathing dildo! I see you when you’re smiling with your friends and all I want to do is just steal you away make you mine forever! And every night, I cry at the lack of pleasure I’m getting. The lack of warmth that I only want YOU to give to me. The lack of feeling your hot, meaty cock inside me! It drives me insane, Eijirou! I hate having these thoughts! I hate them! I hate them! I ha-hmmph!”

Kirishima had suddenly kissed you, and you had returned it by ravaging your tongue around his. You didn’t care about the cuts you might receive from his teeth grazing against your delicate flesh. You could only be swallowed by the pleasures overtaking your mouth. You drowned in each other, but only briefly before you had placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away from you.

“What are you doing?! Didn’t you just hear what I said?” You struggled to catch your breath as you wiped away the remnants of his saliva from your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, F/N? Did you…did you not trust me? Did you not think of me as manly enough to handle this?” His hands gripped tightly at your shoulders, craving a reply from you.

“You know that’s not true, Kiri. You’re the best person to ever come into my life, and that’s why I had to withhold this secret from you. I didn’t want you to abandon me.”

“I could never aban-“

“But I also didn’t want you to get wrapped up in me. I want you to continue your goals of becoming a hero, Eijirou. Who knows what sanity you’ll be sacrificing by being with me. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

“That isn’t your call to make.” Kirishima’s uncharacteristically cold reply created an atmosphere that overwhelmed you.

“What do you mean? Hiding my quirk was the best decision.”

“Did you really think about me?” Kirishima’s hands glided from your shoulders to your upper arms, still holding a tight grip. “Did you think about how I’d feel if I knew you were holding yourself back like that? What if you’re killing yourself and you don’t know it? I’m supposed to be a hero, F/N. Your hero.”

Before you could reply he had stood up and lifted you back on the bed. He layed you down and positioned himself between your legs, squeezing at your thighs. They were so soft, so delicate. All of you was soft and delicate. And nothing you had told him tonight would change the way he felt about you. There was nothing you could say or do to change his feelings for you. Nothing.

You tried to pry his hands away from the meat of your thighs, but you were admittedly weak from his confession and the thick, encompassing atmosphere that was Kirishima’s presence around you. “Kiri-“

“Eijirou. Call me Eijiirou.”

“…Eijirou. We can’t do this. It’s dangerous…”

“It’s dangerous if I do, its dangerous if you don’t. But I’m telling you right now, F/N, I’m not letting you continue to do this to yourself. Knowing that you’re hurting like this and not being able to do anything? Not doing anything to help the one I love? What kind of hero would I be?...What kind of man would I be?”

Kirishima then leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. You tried to move your head away but he took one of his hands against your jaw to hold you in place. It felt so good. So fucking good. His lips, his tongue, his rough hands. You teared up just at the pleasure of it all.

He then took his other hand to lift up your shirt, revealing your bra that contained the softest bust that any man could ever lay his hand upon. And right now that man was him. And he’d make sure it’d always be him.

Letting go of your lips, he roughly caressed your breasts before completely pulling your shirt over your head. Faint thoughts of resistance would slip away as you lost yourself in the pleasure you’d been craving for so long.

Struggling to get your bra off, Kirishima impatiently ripped it himself, using a bit of his quirk in the process.

“Eiji…”

“Sshh, baby. I’m gonna take care of you so well.” He slipped off your shorts along with your underwear and threw them unmindfully on the floor. Gripping the flesh below your inner knee, he spread your legs wide enough to slightly sting.

Your pussy was overflowing with juices for him and he barely even touched you yet. He took a moment to relish in the view, taking in deep breaths to smell your intoxicating aroma. He was inexperienced at sex but he knew this erotic perfume you were exuding could only have been the work of your succubus traits.  He leaned down to give an experimental lick, his tongue curling to make sure he could gather as much of your juices as he could. He let your flavor sit in his mouth as if trying to enjoy the last sip of water on a mission in the desert.

His lewd behaviors made an unbearable heat rise to your face and you cowered behind your hands. Irritated, Kirishima jerked your hands away and looked at you as if you just insulted his entire lineage.

“Don’t you dare cover up that beautiful face of yours.” He leaned his head back down, this time capturing all the folds of your pussy in his mouth. “I want to see every expression you make. Hear every seductive sound that leaves that your throat.” The vibrations of his voice on your pussy drove you crazy. The rapid moving of his tongue against your clit was immediately sending you to a heavenly dimension.

“Ohh Eiji…Eiji I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum for me, baby. I want it.”

Your orgasm was so intense you could’ve passed out, but you couldn’t. Not with Eijirou still licking all over your clit like that.

“Oh my god, Eiji! Eijiii” Your hands gripped at his spiky hair, tugging tightly trying to get him to have mercy on your sensitive bud. “F-ffuckk! I can’t, Eiji, I can’t!”

Still not letting up, he continued to overstimulate you with his relentless tongue. “I’m sorry, F/N.” He slurped up your juices before working his tongue again. “You taste so fucking good. Like the freshest fruit from a garden.” He rotated between drinking up your fluids and licking vigorously at your clit. “I can’t stop, baby. I need more. Just cum again, okay?”

And cum, you would. A second orgasm was on the horizon and the overstimulation of it was making you shed tears. “Eiji…I’m gonna cum again. Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna cum againnn- Hnngh!!“. Intense waves of pleasure rode over you. However, Kirishima was still lapping up at your folds. “Eijirouuuu!!!”. Your moans became more high-pitched and erratic as you were overstimulated now for the second time.

“Just one more time, baby. I promise”. “I swear I just-“ Slurp. “Never tasted-“ Slurrp. “Anything so fucking good before.”

You were left with no choice but to cave into your third orgasm and Kirishima seemed to show no mercy for you. “Fucckkk.” You sniffled through your sobs as your next high came quicker than the previous ones. Finally Kirishima had lifted his head from between your lips. He had the most animalistic and erotic face you could have ever dreamed of seeing.

“Damn, that was so good. You did so well for me, baby.” Kirishima gleamed with the shine that was your juices. He leaned down to entwine his tongue with yours. You could taste yourself on him and it made you delirious. You had just cum three times, but you wanted more. You needed more.

Kirishima felt the same way as you as he backed up to give himself space to take his shorts off. Cock now springing free, you could see the beast of a rod he had and it made your mouth water. You whined at just the thought of the pleasure you were about to become entranced by. He lined himself up at your sopping entrance, but before he could slip in, you lightly pressed on his chest to get his attention.

“Are you sure, Eijirou? You can stop right now if want. I won’t be mad at you at all. You’ve already done so much for me, tonight.”

His cheeks faded into a deep pink as he moved your hands to be at his shoulders.

“I want you, F/N”. He stuck the tip of his cock in you, grunting at the tightness of your entrance. “I fucking want you.”

You let out a guttural moan as he slowly stretched your pussy to fit his cock. You finally felt it. The warmth you’d been craving deep inside. The stingingly sweet pain of his cock stretching out your drenched pussy. You could die right now. Right here in the arms of the man you loved. And your ghost would be perfectly okay with it. But your flesh craved even more. You needed him to reach the deepest parts of you. You needed him to destroy your greedy pussy.

“Fuck me, Eijirou. I want you to fuck me like the greedy slut that I am!” You looked directly into his dazed eyes, whining at him to give you what you wanted. “Please, I want you so bad. Mark this pussy with that cock of yours. Make me unable to think about anyone else like this. C’mon, give it to me! ”

Too aroused by your begging, he silently obliged. Sinking the entirety of his cock inside you, he twitched at your pulsating walls. It was like your pussy was a  breathing organ, sucking him in and tightening around him so he could never leave. And he wasn’t going to. He’d stay like this forever with you.

Not giving you time to get used to his size, Kirishima started thrusting brutally against your hips. You let out the sweetest moans as you littered his back with scratches. His thrusts becoming smoother and smoother as your pussy got used to him. His cock ferociously grazed against your g-spot as the tip teasingly nibbed at your cervix. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain, you felt your now fourth orgasm approaching. You let go of his shoulders to lay your head back deep in the cushions of his pillows.

“Eijirou, you’re gonna make me cum again! You’re gonna make me cum all over your cock-!”

“Oh fuck- me too, F/N”. The rhythm of his thrusts became more faltered as your walls inhumanely squeezed the life out of him. He looked at your cock-drunk face, pleased with his performance. “Where do you want it, baby?”

You raised your head to reestablish eye contact with him. “I want it inside! Cum inside me! I need your cum so bad, need to feel it in my-Hmmnghh!!” Your orgasm overtook your speaking as you groaned hysterically.

Kirishima not far behind you, quickened his pace to chase his own high. “Shit, F/N! I’m gonna cum inside you! Fucking take all of it, baby! Don’t let any seep out, okay?”

You moaned at the hotness of his seed spurting inside. It was so deep inside you and you wondered if it was either easier or more difficult to get pregnant as a succubus. Either way you wanted more and your walls clenched once again against Kirishima’s cock.

He grunted before leaning down to bury his face in your neck, once again starting to thrust inside you. He was overstimulated but your pussy was driving him crazy. Perhaps your juices were an aphrodisiac, making anyone a slave to the area between your thighs. He kissed along your jaw and brought his hand up against your throat. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to get your attention.

He rose his head up to get a good look at your face. You looked liked a corrupted angel beneath him. He couldn’t believe you withholded him from these pleasures for so long. Were you just gonna go fuck other guys? You were going to let other men taste what has been his all along? He needed to hear you say you belonged to him. He’d give up anything to hear your sweet voice tell him everything from your insides and out belonged to him.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby?”

You replied with no hesitation, willing to say and do anything to milk more of his cum inside you.

“You, Eijirou! I belong to you! My flesh, my womb, my guts! Everything belongs to you Eijirou!” You felt another orgasm filling up in your stomach. “Please don’t ever leave me, Eiji. I want you with me forever. “

Of course, this was something he had no qualms about doing. He was ready. He’d give up school, his goals, his life to please you at every waking moment. He’d keep you pumped full of his cum so you’d never think about anyone else. You wouldn’t even remember what it was like to live like you weren’t a succubus. You’d be happy like this. With him.

Because he was your hero.

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Because Jensen said that the thing he was most excited to tackle this season was “Cas”…

__________________________________________________________

He was happy—of course he was happy. They were all back, Donna, Bobby, Charlie, all the other people from the apocalypse world. They all came back with the rest of the human race, and Dean’s heart felt lighter every time his or Sam’s phone rang with another familiar name; but even with his heart as light as it’s ever been, he knew it could never be weightless… and it wasn’t until Eileen facetimed Sam, and his little brother’s eyes lit up, and his grin threatened to break his head in two, that Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to walk away.

He had to get far from all those people that only a day ago, he’d have given anything to see, because none of them possessed the name that he wanted most to hear. None of them were the one that he knew he’d never see again.

Sam didn’t even notice him walking off, and Dean is glad—he may be hurting, but he wouldn’t want that to dampen his brother’s joy. He’s thrilled that Sam has Eileen in his life again; lord knows the kid has lost enough love in his life. He deserves a happy ending … the thing is though, Dean kind of thought he deserved one too.

He walked a few blocks until the small-town’s buildings turned into homes, that then morphed into barns, and then farmland that stretched as far as the eyes could see. It was beautiful and peaceful, quiet—but still full of enough bird calls and buzzing insects that Dean didn’t fear Chuck had come back and taken everyone again. 

Soon, the air begin to fill with the pungent sweetness of the onion fields that engulf this area, and it made his stomach growl-- and he realized it’s been a solid two days since he last ate; but for the first time in his life, Dean didn’t really feel like eating. He didn’t feel like anything—he just wanted to walk and try to forget the pain that he knew would never leave him.

The sun tilted lower in the sky, shining orange and gold in his eyes, so he looked down to his feet, noting each pebble and clump of dirt he kicked, envying their ability to just be or crumble, never needing or knowing anything more in life; and he became so lost in each of his steps, that when his phone rang, the trilling sound made his heart nearly leap out his throat. Dean stopped walking and fished his phone from his pocket, seeing that it was Sam calling him—but he didn’t want to answer it. A moment later, a text popped up.

“Where’d you go?”

Then another text: “Going to go meet up with Eileen. You want to come with?”

Dean sighs. He knows Sam will worry if he doesn’t respond, so he taps out a quick message back, hoping it’ll be enough. “Nah. Go ahead. Goin for a walk.”

Three little dots pop up on his screen, but then quickly disappear again. Sam knows him well enough to know when Dean needs to be alone, and this is definitely one of those times.

A bird swoops down in front of him, dive bombing the gnats and ladybugs flitting from the onion spears, and as he puts his phone away, Dean lifts his other hand up to shade his eyes and watch the hunter work. The bird is silent, tactical, seeming to hover in mid-air for moments at a time before spotting another target to take down. It’s impressive, and Dean smiles to himself, happy that he knows enough about this skill to appreciate the natural ability in others, but then his smile fades … because, what does he do now?

Will he still hunt?

Will there still be monsters for him to hunt?

What would he even do if there isn’t?

He tried living a normal life once—with Lisa, but that didn’t work out. Dean used to tell himself that that was because Sam came back without a soul and a whole new slew of monsters came about because of it, but if he’s being honest with himself … truly honest, he knows he really didn’t want it to work. He knows that he didn’t feel quite right if he wasn’t out there killing something.

But he feels different now. He feels more at peace, and part of him thinks that if he never had to lift a blade again, he’d be okay.

He huffs a laugh, surprised by how true that is, but the soft noise is just enough to startle the bird, and it takes off across the field, shrinking to a black dot in the distance.

Dean watches it go, eyes eventually dropping to something else stranding up in the middle of the field—a bit of tan disrupting all the green. At first, he thinks it’s a scarecrow; but then it moves.

The thing takes a step, and then a step closer—and then it lifts its arms to cup its hands around its mouth.

“Dean?” the thing calls from the distance, and Dean’s eyes go wide when the sound finally meets his ears—audio clicking with visual, putting together the total image in his mind until he finally sees it, sees him.

“Cas?” he breathes, feet already moving before he even finishes saying the short name.

Soon, he’s running at full speed, heart pumping faster and faster as tears stream from his eyes. Dean cuts into the field like a knife, breaking onion stalks like twigs with every fall of his foot. The dry ground echoes his thudding pace through the rows, but Dean doesn’t slow down, he can’t. He won’t. “Cas!”

Castiel—clear now, eyes as blue as ever, shuffles forward, seeming dazed by where he’s standing, but Dean is laser focused and on him in a second, tackling him to the ground with a hug so tight, he might’ve broken the angel’s back if he were a human.

The dirt and rocks cut into Dean’s knees but he doesn’t care, he just pulls Castiel up and hugs him harder.

“Dean—what happened?” Castiel asks, sounding a bit strangled by his friend’s death-grip.

But Dean can’t answer him yet. He can’t risk words ruining this, so he keeps holding on until he feels Castiel finally smile against his cheek and lift his arms to hug him back.

“Dean” Cas chuckles, eventually squeezing him just as tight.

“I didn’t think I’d get you back” Dean finally says after they’ve kneeled there holding each other for well over a minute. “I didn’t think I could.”

“Dean…” Castiel says again, more somber now, “Tell me what happened. Where’s Chuck?”

Dean finally peels himself away to look into his friend’s eyes, but it just makes him want to hug him all over again, but he stops himself, knowing that Castiel needs to know that everything’s okay now. “Chuck is powerless.”

Castiel tilts his head to the side—confused, and it makes Dean’s heart flip.

He smiles. “Jack … Jack took his powers. I guess, the kid is pretty much the new God now.”

Castiel’s mouth falls open, but a moment later, he looks up to the sky. “So, that’s what I’m feeling.”

Dean furrows his brow in question.

But Castiel continues to look up into the blue and then smiles. “As soon as I woke up here, I felt a new energy in the world. It was calm, happy. It never felt that way with Chuck in control … but, Jack?” The angel grins wider, like the proud father he was always meant to be, and it warms Dean to his core. “I knew he was destined for greatness.”

Dean watches him—this being that didn’t even know what emotions were a decade ago. An angel who he thought didn’t even have the equipment to care, he’s kneeling here in the dirt and earth with him, so full of love for his son, for the world, for everything, that Dean forgets about every other wonderous impossibility he’s seen in his life. This, this right here is the truest miracle. 

Castiel is the greatest wonder.

Castiel’s eyes drop back down, warm and wandering over Dean’s face. “I never thought I’d see you again” he says, voice low like the breeze winding through the stalks.

Dean tilts his head with a sigh, feeling all the words he wants to say scratching at the base of his throat, but none of them seem right, none of them are what Castiel deserves—not after everything he’s done, not after everything he gave up just for Dean to still be here. His breath begins to feel heavy in his chest, his heart races, and with one last swallow to choke down his nerves, he leans forward and presses his lips to the angel’s. “I love you too” slips over his tongue just before he can kiss him again. “Cas, I love you more than anything.”

The birds and bugs and breeze move around them in harmony, and the world carries on like it always did, spinning forward and unaware of the supernatural forces at work within it ... like monsters and ghosts, and demons and gods, or even just a man and his angel, finally knowing what it is to be truly happy.

[secondhand-trash]

Wet Cherry

A/N: me? Getting nervous over writing smut because I haven’t written any properly in a while let alone for a new fandom? It’s more likely than you think... 

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: Who knew red lip gloss could be so powerful?

Warning: dirty talk, oral(giving), female masturbation

Word count: 2715

-

Kuroo Tetsurou had been staring at you for a good while now and he was starting to feel very, very antsy.

He wasn’t particularly familiar with all the steps you took to doll yourself up, all he knew was you had maybe a bit too much fun with it and it made you happy so he always let you do your thing no matter how long it took. He was sitting on the bed and staring at your figure in front of the vanity, his mind slowly drifting away when he heard a light pop of your lips. It was a thick layer of red gloss coating your lips, the texture looking rather gooey as you smacked them together to make sure it was all spread out nicely. 

He even complimented you on it when you turned around to face him, delighting you a little as he asked if that was a new colour.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting you to notice,” you grinned as you took his hand before standing up from the vanity, “I saw the red and just knew I have to get it.”

You were not much of a fan of flashy colours yourself but you were well aware of the sentiment that was behind his love for the bold pop of red and had slowly tried to incorporate it into your own life more and more, which he appreciated. It was a beautiful colour on you, even though he wasn’t too certain if he was all too sharp towards the difference between the many existing shades of red. 

At first, he didn’t think too much about it. It was just a pretty look on you. The red sheen definitely felt fitted for the increasingly hot weather, the juiciness from the shine looking particularly refreshing for the summer time. Until he started to notice that his eyes kept drifting back to your lips as the day passed and he realised that the way the gloss made your lips looked so plump and pillowy was starting to make his mind wander to places that made his blood boil hotter than the burning sun.

The red on its own was bold enough to have his gaze glued on you, but the way the gloss stuck together as your lips moved just added a whole other layer of visual appeal. He was trying hard to concentrate on what you were saying, but all he could focus on was how the sun light reflected as your cupids bow arched. Your lips were so glassy, almost like the bead of water that glided down the red aluminum can and spread the chill from his finger tips all the way to his body. 

Or when you were sucking on the straw when you stopped by the cafe at the corner to grab a drink. The sight of you with your mouth wide and your lips pressed tightly around the thin plastic made his entire body tensed up. He tried to stop himself from linking it to other activities where you also had to suck on something long and hollow your cheeks but he just couldn’t, not when your lips looked like a cherry that was just pulled out of the syrup as you let out a satisfied sigh before releasing the straw. The red mark left at the rear looking especially erotic.

Cherry, that’s what it was. Round and supple, all types of sweet and sour in his mouth if you would let him take a bite.

The worst part was that you had been denying his urge to feel it for himself the entire day, swiftly turning your head away from him every time he tried to play coy and gave you a peck on the lips. He wanted nothing more than to just press you against the nearest wall and feel that wetness on your lips smeared all over his face when you pouted, warning him not to smudge your lipstick. 

That was just cruel, plain cruel. Almost as cruel as the way you were licking and sucking at the candy in your hand as you blatantly ignored your boyfriend’s hungry eyes on you.

Did you know? Did you know that right now all he could think of was how you would look with your plump lips wrapped around his cock? Or the sweet sounds that he could drew out of you when he made you suck on his long fingers? You had to be at least be somewhat aware of the effect you had on him, that he was on the verge of combusting if you sucked and licked the round piece of red candy in your mouth one more time. If you were really deliberately riling him up as he was suspecting that you were, then you sure had a lot of control on yourself to not even spare a glance his way. One hand linked to his, you twirl the white stick on the other as you pulled it out, a thin silver string of saliva connecting from your lips to the lollipop. The coat of spit on the red candy had a sharp resemblance to your own lips, your tongue darting out to press flat against the ball before eloping your lips around it again. 

With the lollipop in hand and your lips jutted out in a false display of innocence, you asked if he was feeling alright, that he was being more quiet than usual. What a fucking tease, so you did knew. He had to suppress the urge to just take the candy from your hand and make you drool over something else with those lips, to just feel them somewhere, anywhere. But being a man of good patience, he swallowed the saliva that was pooling in his mouth and smiled.

He was ready to wreck you the moment he had you all alone to himself.

You pretended to be shocked when he pushed you against the wall the moment the front door was locked. You gasped as he gripped your wrists, his body towering over yours even as he bent down with the aim at your exposed neck. His teeth dragged along the soft skin, biting and sucking as he went from the curve down to the dip of your collarbone. You could feel the wetness he left as he bit down, his hand pulling your collar down roughly.

He had no intention to stop until you were adorned in all different shades of red as revenge.

“Someone had fun trying to rile me up.” His voice was low at your ear, his hot breath fanning the sensitive skin at the nap of your neck as he spoke.

You grinned, the two red valves splitting cross your face and he just wanted to see how long that cheeky smile would last when he had his way with you.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you said, rolling your hips up and hummed when you felt the bulge that was pressing up against you.  

He groaned, “Yeah, yeah, keep running that mouth of yours,” 

You yelped when he pinched your waist, his laugh ringing by your ear when you slapped him in the shoulder but he didn’t even budge. The grin on your face did not falter when he yanked you by the wrist towards your bedroom, pulling you down to the mattress so that you were straddling his lap in one swift motion.

“Feel this?” he muttered when he took your hand in his and placed it on his hard on, his much larger hand completely covering yours as he guided you to palm him, “Feel what you did to me?”

“Aw,�� it would be a lie if you said it was not ridiculously hot to know that you needed to do so little in order to have such an effect on him, but you both know the best fun comes from the teasing. You felt your own arousal pooling up when his cock twitched beneath the layers when you darted your tongue out to lick your lips, pushing the thick gloss around as you collected it at its tip, “is the red too much? If I knew it would get you going, I would have wear glosses way more often...”

Bringing his thumb to your face, he mused as he gently touched the glassy liquid on your lips, feeling the way it stick to his finger. “On this cute mouth? Oh yeah...” you almost gave him the pleasure of hearing you whine when he brought his thumb to the corner of his lips and swiped the bit of red onto his lips, tasting the faint scent of mint at his finger, “Got me thinking about gagging you with my cock all day long.”

His filthy words had your back tensed up. His loop-sided smirk that had your knees weak found its way to his face as he sat back with one hand pressed on the mattress, the other giving your shoulder a light push. “Be a good girl and deal with it for me?”

Your hands lingered on his torso as you slid down, settling between his legs as you kneeled in front of him. With both hands gripping his thighs, you stared right into his eyes as you dipped down to take the fly of the zipper between your teeth and pulled down. You rubbed your thighs together when his breath hitched, your hands fumbling to peel the layers away so you could get to what he was packing underneath.

His cock stood up for attention the moment it was released from its confines and he felt his chest swelling when you licked your lips at the sight. You could be a tease all you wanted but you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The muscles at his abdomen tensed up when you took a long lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, your tongue swirling at the slit to collect the bead of pre-cum that was leaking out. You were taking your time, like he was the piece of candy that was in your mouth just earlier, taking in the taste as it expanded in your mouth and torturing him in the process.

The moan he let out when you finally sank down on his cock was nothing less than sinful and you couldn’t help but whined, the vibration from your lips hitting him in full force. Your mouth on its own was enough to have him losing his mind, but the stickiness that was from the gloss on your lips added a whole other layer of pleasure to his senses. His hand instinctively went to the back of your head when you started bobbing up and down on his shaft, each drag of your mouth spreading the red stain around. The friction that was added from the layer of gloss had his hand clutching at the sheets and he felt the shivers running down his spine when the tingling of the mint slowly seeped through his skin.

You looked up at him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him in your mouth, your hand gripping what could not fit. You made it a challenge to get as much of a reaction out of him every time you are in this position, and nothing could turn you on more when you glanced at him through your lashes to see his head threw back, his eyebrows locking together with his lips parted. He was sitting back and the muscle of his body spasmed under the pleasure, his arms flexing as he tried to remain control. 

His pupils were blown out when he looked down at you again, a choked laugh leaking from his lips as he gripped your hair in his hand and gave it a light tug. You had red smeared all over your chin, his cock glistening with the mixture of your spit and the gloss. 

“Come on, I know you can take my cock better than that,” he said, the light pain from your sculp egging you on as you took all of him with one smooth movement. He groaned at the feeling your throat tightening around him, his tip hitting the back before you pulled away. Drool leaked from the corner of your lips but you did not pay it much mind as you turned your attention back to him. “That’s a good girl, sucking me off so well... so good for me...”

Your eyes were glassy from the tears that was starting to pool up from the gag and he moved his hand to wipe away the drop that was threatening to roll down your face. Praises fell from his lips as you continued to move and the way your hips were rolling against nothing from a desperate need of friction did not escape his sharp eyes. “Go on, touch yourself,” his voice was breathy as he commanded, “play with that pussy while you slobber all over my cock.” 

The unruly piece of his bangs were matted to his forehead as he looked down at you, the lazy smile tugging at his face together with his flushed cheeks. As he sat back against his arm and the other holding tight against the back of your head, that was pure sexuality oozing off of him and you couldn’t help but feel the rush of heat in between your legs as you took him deep inside your cavity once again. Your hand digging into the tensed muscle of his thigh as the other found its way into your panties. Spreading your wetness from the tip of your finger to the side of your cunt, you could not hold yourself back when you slid those digits and stretch out your walls.

He groaned at the sight of you shamelessly grinding against your hand, you muffled moans on his cock making him drag your head along him at an even faster pace. You could feel him twitch within your lips, the knot at his throat bobbing up and down as he tried to control himself from snapping up into your throat. 

“I’m close-” he choked, his breath getting heavier as he approached his high. About to pull out as he cum, breath hitched at the back of his throat when you gripped him tight at the thigh as if you were warning him to better stay where he was. “You want my cum down your throat, is that what this is?”

He chuckled when you let out a muffled hum, your eagerness to please pushing him off the edge as he fisted your hair tightly, holding your still whilst spilling his load down your mouth. Your finger was circling your clit when he released you, watching as you panted right after swallowing the salty liquid pooling in your mouth. You lips were stained with red, the gloss leaving a thin film around your chin. Trail of white leaked from the corner of your lips from the cum that you couldn’t swallow and together with your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, the whole sight made him feel the similar itch once again.

His arms were strong as he leaned down to scoop you up, pulling you up to his chest as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. He could still taste some of the mint that was left together with his release. He groaned into your lips when you went to weave your fingers into his jet black hair.

Flipping you over with ease, you giggled as he peppered kisses down from your lips all the way down your neck as he crawled off of you. A hint of dangerous amusement glowing in his eyes as he whispered against your skin.

“Stay here while I go clean up the mess you made on me,” he fisted his cock in hand, feeling the stickiness from the red marks you left on him, “and when I come back, I better see you all naked and spread out for me.”

You shuddered at the gravel in his tone, letting out a soft squeal when he pressed his hand against the dark patch at the cotton of your panties.

“I’m not done with my payback just yet.”

[pretchatta]

I (accidentally) rewatched the entirety of s1 of rebels recently (in my defense it is utterly flawless and possibly the best star wars content out there) anyway, when I was at the part where ezra is in the jedi temple on lothal and sees the inquisitor killing the rest of the crew his family I thought: what if that was kanan? and then this happened. (ao3 link in the source)

rating: teen, warnings for (non-permanent) character death and violence

---

Kanan was running.

Somehow, the Inquisitor had found him on Lothal. The pau’an had ambushed him at the Kothal market during his supply run and Kanan had barely escaped with his life. As market stalls had tumbled to the ground around them, the people of Lothal had screamed and fled in fear. In the panic and confusion he’d lost both the supplies and his lightsaber, so now he ran.

He just had to make it to the Ghost, and then Hera could fly them all away to safety.

He raced across the plains, prey fleeing from a predator, the waist-high grasses whipping his legs and threatening to entangle his ankles. He somehow managed to stay ahead of his pursuer, but he could feel the Inquisitor gaining on him. He tried to increase his speed, but his legs wouldn’t move any faster through the grass.

By the time he reached the ship, he was barely holding onto his lead. Panic was rising in his chest.

“Hera, take off!” he shouted, racing up the ramp. He came past Zeb coming the other way.

“I’ve got your back, Kanan!” 

Kanan heard the hum of his bo-rifle activating. “Zeb, no!”

He was too slow to stop him. The clash of the staff against a lightsaber reached his ears from behind, and then his friend’s strangled yell. He turned just in time to see Zeb’s body hit the ground at the base of the ramp. 

Kanan stumbled backwards, looking up and into yellow glowing eyes. The Inquisitor’s mouth split into a cruel grin that revealed rows of pointed teeth.

“Hera!” Kanan yelled again desperately. Why wasn’t she starting the engines? Couldn’t she hear him?

His flight instinct took over and he made it to the ladder, scrambling up it. As he passed the nose gun, Sabine ran onto the balcony, blasters out. He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, run, go back, but she was already shooting at the dark figure emerging below. With an almost lazy flick of his saber, the Inquisitor sent the bolts straight back to her. Her body crumpled to the deck, the holes in her bodysuit smoking. Her armour had always been too small for her; she’d left Mandalore too young to have a full-sized suit.

With no way of his own to fight back, Kanan kept going up. At every rung he fought against the pain of knowing his family were sacrificing themselves for him. He made it to the top of the ladder when he heard something that made his heart drop through his feet.

“Stop right there!” 

Kanan looked down to see Ezra advancing on the Inquisitor, who had stowed his lightsaber and was about to step onto the first rung of the ladder. The pau’an turned to snarl at Kanan’s apprentice. A black-gloved hand shot out, fingers twisted into a claw, and Ezra was sent flying backwards. He hit the bulkhead with a sickening crunch and hung there, suspended for a moment, before the Inquisitor dropped his hand. Ezra fell to the floor. He didn’t move again.

“No!” Kanan screamed.

The eyes were back on him, and it was like his whole body was being drenched in fire and ice, the terror all-consuming. He fled upwards into the cockpit where, with a rush of relief, he saw Hera was already in the pilot’s seat.

“We have to go, now!” 

“What is it, love? What’s happening?” She stood up to meet him in the middle, relaxed and ignorant of the slaughter below.

“It’s the Inquisitor, he found me. We have to take off!”

“But he’s already on the ship.” If she knew that, why was she being so calm? “You should take the Phantom and get yourself to safety.”

He nodded; she was right. “Yeah, okay, let’s do that. Come on, let’s go!” He took her hand and dragged her to the door that led to the rest of the ship, but she resisted.

“I’ll hold him off so you can get away.” She took her blaster out of its holster.

“No, we can fight him together!” 

The pale, elongated head was already coming out of the hatch.

“Kanan, we cannot win this battle… You must run.” Her voice sounded different. She pushed him through the door. “Go, I’ll be right behind you.” 

Her blaster was raised and her body half turned towards the cockpit, but she was still looking at him. She didn’t see the dark shadow moving behind her, and he was too frozen with fear to warn her.

Her lips parted in a silent cry as the red blade blossomed from the center of her chest. The light faded from her eyes, and Kanan felt agony rip through his entire body as he watched.

“No! Hera! NO!”

The blade retracted and she sank to her knees, still staring sightlessly up at him. Slowly, she tipped sideways, landing on the deck in a sprawl of limbs and lekku. Dead, like the rest of his family. 

He hadn’t been strong enough to protect them, any of them. They had given their lives to protect him, and now it was his fault they were gone. He wasn’t even worthy of their sacrifice. 

The Inquisitor stepped over her lifeless form, advancing on him. He stumbled backwards, barely staying on his feet, trying to keep the distance between himself and his hunter. His back hit the closed doors at the other end of the corridor.

Was there any point in fighting back, now? What was left to live for?

The lightsaber ignited again, and with a snarl, the Inquisitor lunged forward. As he watched death coming for him, he screamed, for he realised that even after everything he was still a coward. He didn’t want to die.

The lightsaber slashed downwards. Everything went black.

-

-

-

His throat hurt. His muscles ached. Fear – no, terror – permeated every cell in his body. Something sharp was digging into his shoulder. He was screaming, a wordless shout that continued seamlessly from where he’d been a moment before. That was why his throat hurt. He stopped, but it still felt raw. He heaved a gasping breath.

He was in his bunk on the Ghost – no, Hera’s bunk. The sheets were twisted and wrapped around him, and his whole body was covered in sweat. Had he been dreaming? No, it was too real. They were all dead. His family were dead, and it was his fault, and he was dead too–

“Kanan? Kanan, wake up! It’s just a dream, please, love, you’re dreaming, wake up.”

Something was shaking him, and he realised the pain was from fingers gripping his shoulder.

“Hera?” he asked hoarsely, because even though it couldn’t possibly be her, he’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“It’s me, love, I’m here.”

A soft hand cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at–

“Hera!”

He dived at her, wrapping his arms around her blissfully warm body, the forcefulness of his movement nearly taking them both off the bed and onto the floor. He didn’t care. He squeezed her tightly, feeling how alive she was, how real, clinging to her like a lifeline.

“You’re alive,” he whispered, rocking backwards and forwards, not letting her go. Tears streamed down his face, tears of relief and pain and love and fear.

“It’s okay, it was just a nightmare, you’re okay now,” she soothed, stroking his back with one arm – the other was trapped between them and unlikely to escape from his vice-like grip on her. “I’m okay. Everyone’s okay, you’re on the Ghost, we’re all safe, there’s nothing to be afraid of here.”

“It was – s-so real –” he choked between sobs. His whole body was shaking now, but she continued to stroke his back and just let him hold her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, burying his face in her shoulder. She pressed a kiss to the side of his face and her hand moved to his head to stroke his hair. Everything about her comforted him; the shape of her body, the way it physically pressed against him, the smell of her skin, the smooth glide of her hand over his head, the soft murmuring of her voice in his ear. Hera made him feel safe in a way that no person or place had since he was fourteen.

Eventually, his heart rate slowed to something nearer its normal pace and his breathing evened out. He loosened his grip on Hera and allowed her to find a more comfortable position, but didn’t completely let go of her; he wasn’t ready for that just yet. The fear and grief from the nightmare still lingered, tendrils of darkness lurking in the corners of his mind, but he felt somewhat in control of himself again. The dream may have been all of his worst fears rolled into one, tortuous visual, but it was just that; a dream. It wasn’t real.

He breathed in and opened himself to the Force. Immediately he felt Hera beside him, her presence blazing with love and a fierce protectiveness. Expanding his awareness outwards, he felt each member of his crew; his family. They all slept soundly, their Force signatures calm and muted, dreaming their own dreams. And alive. 

Despite everything, they were all miraculously, blissfully alive.

[glassbxttless]

Jude x Reader

Word Count: 1,064

Warnings: female reader, stalking, swearing, mentions of sex, home invasion mention

Notes: Just let me know if you don’t want tagged in this AU! I can keep you tagged in other Jude content! But the prompt this part is based off of, is below! For Wednesday, April 14, 2021! Here’s my contribution for the Writer’s Wednesday! @autumnleaves1991-blog

It’s loud, it’s crowded, and Jude cannot see a fucking thing past everyone else in line after line. He’s done so good at keeping himself out of your visual range so far. He’s trailing behind you and your friends in line after line, to trailer after trailer, barn after barn. And now he’s lost you. He’s lost you in a crowd he’s unsure of. His own friends are talking around him, he invited them to cover his ass when he finally sorted out how he would meet you. How he would smile and pretend that he didn’t know a single thing about you.

And then he sees you in line for a fun house, laughing at something someone in your group had said. And the photo he takes of you isn’t stealthy at all. And he wishes he would’ve been, because he meets your eyes for a moment and has to pretend that you aren’t the one he’s looking at. That the photo is definitely a photo of the attractions. The best attraction by far.

You’ve felt like you’ve had a shadow lurking over you most of the day. Every turn you made like someone was lingering in your wake. Your heart preparing your body for fight or flight. Your mind anxiously waits for confrontation that never comes. You’re paranoid, they tell you. No one is following you. It’s a big festival and people are just enjoying their time. And you tend to believe them. You push your feelings away. You let your guard down. You try to have fun. But you really aren’t prepared to meet a pair of gorgeous brown eyes with a camera phone in the next line. But he’s not paying any attention to you. You take a look at whatever’s behind you and he must have been taking a photo of the festival.

You smile as you give your tickets to the fun house attendee. Jude watches quietly as you make your way through the doors and he just has to find a way to meet you today. He just has to. The way you were studying him just moments before. He’s admired the way your eyes shine in the daytime and how your voice was so boisterous when you were excited. He’s imagined how your body would feel under his, how your skin would feel when he’s running his hands over every inch of you. How you would feel wrapped around his cock when he finally gets the chance. He tries to imagine your voice telling him you love him. Telling him how he feels safe. But if only you knew. If you knew what he did. What he was doing.

And you start feeling uneasy again, as you exit the funhouse. Your group of friends staying close by your side. And you all agree that the Ferris wheel will be your last adventure for the night. And when Jude hears that, he knows he has to move. He has to move quickly. So he’s buying apple crisp and a lemonade and making his way to the Ferris wheel, two of his own friends in tow. He’s laughing and talking and timing it just right to walk straight into you, covering your clothing in his lemonade and crisp. “I’m so sorry.” Jude’s first words to you come out in a rush.

You’re startled by the sudden coverage of a quick meal, huffing out as you look down at your clothes. “It’s okay… accidents happen.” You look up and are met with those same brown eyes from earlier. They’re softer now. More calm.

“Can I buy you a drink or something? To make up for it.” His cheeks are growing a dark red, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In what Jude knows as feign embarrassment. You’re smiling, that weary feeling being shoved into the pits of your stomach. It’s just a drink. And you nod.

“Yeah, sure. That would be nice.” You smile softly. “When?”

“Right now if you want. There’s a nice diner across the street from the grounds.” Jude takes his shot, smiling at you gently. No one has ever felt threatened by his presence. He’s too sweet, they would tell him. Were they wrong? Who’s to say.

“Yeah, okay. Let me change and we can go.” You shake your head a bit, smile sitting on your face happily.

Jude smiles, walking with you quietly back to your car so you can change your shirt. He tries not to look, but he can’t help but catch the expanse of skin on your back, covered with the thin strap of your bra. And he wills himself to not get hard. To take his time. The game was only beginning of course. And he’s leading you across the street to the same little diner he saw you at for the first time three months before. You both slide into a booth, you’re on edge. Building walls up to protect yourself from this seemingly stranger on the other side of the table. You’re happy that someone is paying so much attention to detail in your stories. You’re happy that someone is laughing along with your jokes and grinning at the cheesecake that crumbles in front of you.

You tell him about the things that trouble you, against your better judgement. He’s just so calming to talk to. And to unload all of your secrets to a stranger you will never meet again, seemed like an okay way to deal with the stress and paranoia you have been dealing with for months now. And he listens quietly, nodding along to everything you have to say, really listening. And he’s banking on the fact that you’ve not seen him. He’s doing it all right. It’s really working. And Jude talks his way into exchanging numbers with you, flashing that pretty smile that has you meeting for coffee, brunch, and calling him to your apartment late nights just to feel his body.

And then, the place you’ve always felt safe in gets trashed by a visitor you’ve not let in one day while you’re at work. You aren’t sure what’s missing, what’s still there, or who did it in the first place.

But Jude knows, as he stuffs a pretty pair of your lacy panties into his dresser drawer, right next to a collection of photos he’s developed.

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @fizzywoohoo @roanniom @2000andwhat @themuseic @clydesfavoritegirl @caillea @maybe-your-left @historyandfandoms50 @driversmutbucket @cornmousequeen @alpha-lobito @mrs-kylo-ren @leatherboundbirate @peachyproserpina

(I couldn’t tag the strike through!)

[ejzah]

Can you do a Drabble where Kensi walks in on Deeks changing, but he does not notice her and she takes the time to admire him and his body (plus muscles) before Deeks finally does realize Kensi is there. Also can you make it before they got together.

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, anon. Hm, let’s say this takes place during “Wanted”, after they leave the bathhouse.

***

Want

“What is taking Deeks so long?” Sabatino wondered, leaning back in Deeks’ desk chair with a groan. Kensi eyed his feet which were propped up on Deeks’ desk. Based on his response to Sabatino so far, Deeks would not appreciate him taking such a liberty.

“Deeks takes hygiene very seriously,” Kensi shared a little jokingly, thinking back to the many discussions he’d had with Hetty about the timer on the showers. So many in fact that she’d finally removed them. Sam and Callen had been fairly outraged since their complaints had always been ignored.

“Well you wouldn’t know by looking at him.” Kensi frowned at Sabatino but he missed it, busy checking his watch.

“I’ll go see what’s taking him so long.”

Honestly, she felt a little bad for Deeks. She could only imagine that his experience at the bathhouse had been fairly unpleasant, although he wouldn’t say exactly what happened before he made his timely escape.

She stopped in front of the men’s locker room, faced the door and knocked.

“Deeks, Sabatino’s getting a little antsy,” she called out. When he didn’t answer after a minute, she added, “Everything ok in there?” It was suspiciously quiet for Deeks. Naturally her mind turned to the worst case scenario. What if Kirkin and his men had done something to him?

Kensi hadn’t seen any signs of injury, but that didn’t mean much. Since he’d joined the team, Deeks had exhibited the ability to be just as blasé about his own well-being as the rest of them. The memory of him running to her rescue with two fresh bullet wounds made her decision for her.

She pushed the door open, not seeing him in the immediate changing area, and moved towards the lockers. It didn’t sound like the showers were running so at least he probably hadn’t slipped and cracked his head open.

“Deeks,” she started to say again, but his name died on her lips as she rounded the corner. He was there, very much alive, and nearly naked.

He was facing away from her as he dug through his duffel bag, giving her an excellent view of tanned shoulders and back. She followed his shoulder blades down to his torso, stopping when she reached the pair of dark boxer briefs that hung low on his hips.

Kensi was fairly surprised he was wearing any underwear at all given the number of times his jeans had slipped a little too low, revealing nothing but skin. A flash of heat warmed her cheeks and it suddenly occurred to her that she was shamelessly checking out her partner.

Ignoring the little voice in her head that said she should stop, Kensi continued her visual exploration. He bent over his bag, material stretching tightly over his butt.

Kensi pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, but she must have made some sound because Deeks turned around completely and she froze. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his bare chest and abs, following the defined muscles down to the v-shape visible above his shorts.

Another wave of heat rushed through her, a familiar and not entirely welcome feeling of desire pool in her stomach.

“Kens?” Deeks said expectantly and she jerked her gaze back up to his eyes. “You ok?”

There was concern in his eyes, but no sign that he’d noticed her ogling him. If Deeks had, he probably would be shouting it through the whole building by now.

“Yeah, um, I’m good. Great,” she managed to get out, trying to keep her focus on his face. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Which was a slight relief since it obscured his very tan and defined pecs. Although now it emphasized his abs.

“Oh, so then you just came to watch me get dressed?” Kensi scoffed, laughing unnaturally as he strayed alarmingly close to the truth.

“No, of course not. Just because Kirkin enjoyed it doesn’t mean that everyone wants to see you naked. He grinned at that and uncrossed his arms, slipping his the t-shirt over his head. As he reached up to tug it down, his briefs slipped even lower and Kensi swallowed thickly, staring at the strip of paler skin before it was covered again.

“Mm, don’t remind me. I’m pretty sure he offered to make me his consort or something,” Deeks shared with a vague look of distaste. He turned towards his bag, his butt on full display again, and Kensi swore under her breath.

“What was that? I think I got some water in my ears and my hearing’s a

little off.”

“I said, Sabatino’s waiting,” she lied hastily. She needed to get out before she did something truly embarrassing. Like kiss him. Kensi held back a shudder at the thought. “Hurry up.”

She didn’t wait for Deeks to reply, spinning around and hoped that he interpreted her desperate need to leave as irritation. When she was outside the door, she sagged against the wall, letting out a ragged sigh.

You are not allowed to be attracted to your partner, Kensi, she told herself firmly.

***

Thanks for the prompt!

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Prologue: Well, Fuck Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Intro: The Losers infiltrate a child sex trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their new inside woman...only she isn’t new to all the team.

Warnings: Bad Language. Smut (NSFW, 18+) Mentions of child slavery

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time.  It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle.  A literal paedophile ring.  "In position..."   Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it.  "We have visual on you Colonel..."  Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..." "Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..." "If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted. “Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..." "Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received." Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less.  "Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside." She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights. "Fuck..."  Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear. "This is sick." Jensen muttered. And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move. He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely.  The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again. "Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?" Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off. Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her. "You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath. "I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now." "Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open." "Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come.  "Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance.  "Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking." Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us." "What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look. "I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside." Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open." Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly. "It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?" Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..." Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman. "Did you get him?" She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss."  "Through the head?" Pooch looked at her. "It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him." Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team. "This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..." "Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay." Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating.

 "Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too." "Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open. 

The five of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by twelve year olds..." "Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. She looked at him for a second.

"I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist."

I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress. "Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders." "Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked "Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth. Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged. Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open.

"Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek.

"It's good to see you Stel”

“You too Jakey" After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller.

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it.

She smiled and took it from him with a thanks. "Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

Clay shrugged.

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay." The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling.  And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him.

"Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?" "Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that." 

She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer

"Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you. Not just the sex, but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head. "Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it sometime..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down beside her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, and just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top... 

As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash.

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphoned had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting." Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips moulded together in a well-known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..."

 "Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long

.Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway...

 "This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well-executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him. "Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

."JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did.

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him, pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear. . .“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

**** Chapter 1

[artsoupsoupart]

911 Smut Week: Turn Blue

Day 2: Day Two: Handcuffs, sex toys, anything you want to incorporate into a pwp and/or have a plot too.

A/N: I’d like to apologize bc these prompts are gonna be SO late lol. But I’m committed to finishing these and Madney Week lol 

Read on Ao3 

Maddie Buckley is a goddamn tease. It’s a fact that Chimney has developed a love for over the past few months as they’ve grown closer as a couple. Sure, she’s boosted his ego many times by letting him know he’s better at it than she is. And he is. But still, Maddie is learning and exploring, and she has her talents. She’s sneaky and calculative, striking as though she’s a lioness and he’s her unsuspecting prey. Maddie doesn’t have to necessarily do or say anything to get the man riled up. She’s a woman of few words but the look in her eyes and the sway of her hips always tells him exactly what he needs to know about the game she’s formulated in her mind.

Maddie has been tempting him for the past seventy-two hours. Her kisses before either of them leaves for work are slow, deep, filled with a heated passion that makes him want to call out sick and focus on only her and her body and her pleasure. Her touch lingers against his hips and waist and biceps. She has pressed against his chest more than once, sometimes braless so her pebbled nipples can be felt through their clothes. At the karaoke bar the night before, Maddie had let her hand, which had been not so innocently on his thigh the entire night, trail up towards his crotch, a perfectly painted nail tracing over the zipper as he hardens under her touch with their friends and coworkers singing and drinking away, little words being whispered into his neck that send a shudder through him and his ears blaze red. It took everything in him to not drag her to the restroom and show her exactly what she does to him. And still, she did not give him the release he so desperately needed last night.  Maddie Buckley is a goddamn tease, and she sports this devilish smile with confidence because she knows the affect she has on him.

When they’re finally free from the constraints of work and siblings and friends and have the opportunity to simply indulge in one another, her torture (because that’s exactly what this is no matter how much he enjoys it) begins with Chimney stripped bare and put on display for her on the couch like a five-star meal or perhaps precious jewels. She truly has Chimney practically drooling at the sight in front of him: tanned skin beneath simple but lacey black underwear, her curled hair long and flowing along her shoulders. The heels. That’s what really has Chimney’s breath stuttering. The heels she has on are tall and a deep blood red. He has half a mind to blurt out that she could do absolutely anything to him as long as the heels stay on. But this isn’t his game, it’s hers and she’ll refrain from giving him what he needs if he oversteps.

She takes a few steps forward and leans down close to him, a millimeter away and he can feel the heat radiating from her entire body. Or perhaps it’s his. Maybe both. Both is good. His eyes drop to her cleavage and his eyes glaze over in lust as her lips press to his in a bruising kiss. Chimney reaches up to place his hands on her waist, her hips, her breasts, anywhere he can reach but they’re instantly slapped away. She clicks her tongue as if scolding him, her lips trailing along his jaw to his ear which she takes between her teeth before she whispers in his ear, “No. Touching.”

The order is more for her own good than his because as soon as his hands get to explore familiar paths, she loses her resolve and lets him have his way with her. She doesn’t want that though he’s sure she would have no problem prolonging his torture for another day.

When his hands move back to the couch, he wants to curse because there’s nothing to hold on to as Maddie says, “good boy”, and her lips begin their descent down the column of his neck. She stops at his Adam’s apple for a moment, nipping and chuckling as it bobs up and down when he thickly swallows. He’s cute like this, needy like she normally is and as ready as ever. It’s been a fun few days of seduction, of mentally edging him until she could do so physically. Her tongue swirls around his surprisingly sensitive nipples, enjoying the way he squirms beneath her lips before she trails down washboard abs. Maddie sits on a fluffy pillow on the floor between his legs, eye level with his erection. He’s sure he sees absolute lust on her face and something else that is commanding and dominant and, God, he wants her to get it over with so he can bury himself within her. Long nails scratch at thighs that tense under their pressure. His hands clench into fists and for a moment Chimney wonders if he can keep his arousal at bay.

“I want you to last as long as you can, Chim. Can you do that for me?”  

She says it so innocently yet so… sensually and his mind briefly fogs as his imagination runs. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to stave off his orgasm because he needs her more than he thinks he’s ever needed anyone before. But he will. He will because it’ll be worth it in the end. Chimney nods, swallowing again, his mouth dry with want.

“Use your words,” she scolds as her head tilts, and she raises a brow.

He has to tell himself to play her game, to be compliant, maybe a bit subservient because it’ll be worth it. What’s to come (and his revenge) will be absolutely glorious. “I can do anything for you.”

That’s exactly what she likes to hear. She leans her head against his thigh, her nose just shy of pressing against his erection. The amount of blood rushing to his dick truly has him a bit lightheaded. Maddie isn’t sure if he’s been this aroused by her before, but she makes a mental note to tease him more often if this is the response she’ll receive. Pearly teeth dip into her lip as the pad of her finger runs over a thick, throbbing vein. This beautiful cock that is hers to please and use twitches beneath her touch. Maddie internally swells with power. She breathes him in, the scent heady, musky, and masculine, so uniquely Chimney that it makes her mouth water.

For what seems like forever, she simply touches him. Her fingers are featherlight. The point of her nose joins her fingers every now and then and that’s something he never knew would make the fire in his gut blaze so bright. She avoids the tip, the most sensitive part of him besides his heart, though it’s been dripping precum for almost as long as she’s been touching him. The thick drops trail down his shaft aiding in the sensations of lithe digits that have barely touched him. He can do this, it’s not that bad. That’s the lie he tells himself. It’s hell because he wants her to fully use her hands or her mouth or anything and relieve him of the pressure that is teasingly building.

When her tongue pokes out for the first time to run against the vein, from base to just before his bulbous mushroom head, all the air is knocked out of Chimney’s lungs. He has half a mind to beg, but he knows it won’t work. Maddie is stubborn, if him begging would have worked, he would have been deep within her days ago. Still avoiding his tip, she flattens her tongue against his shaft. It’s not much for sensations, but the visual of her licking him like the best ice cream cone is enough for his heart to beat a little faster in anticipation.

After a few more minutes, Maddie catches his gaze, grinning at the stress of his brow and the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “Too much?” she asks.

Chimney stares back at her, shakes his head before audibly saying no. His girlfriend pats his leg before leaning away to shuffle through the bin under the coffee table, the bin that’s mostly used for random magazines that arrive in the mail and the remote. His darkened eyes land on the bottle of lubricant, one of many in their collection that she must have placed there earlier. Chimney lets out a strained groan which gets a laugh out of his girlfriend. Their collection of flavored lube is growing, and it seems Maddie has chosen chocolate cherry, one of her favorites. The liquid, though cold, drips onto his throbbing tip and Chimney lets out the most delicious groan. Maddie almost takes pity on him. Almost.

Her hand, covered in a bit of lube as well, wraps around the base of his erection and she begins stroking in long passes. Her eyes barely leave her handiwork, watching as he glistens. Maddie adjusts, moving to kneel on the pillow instead of sit, watching as he still drips for her. Ever the tease, she presses a kiss to a gooey droplet on the very tip, the taste of him and the lubricant deliciously mingling. Chimney’s entire body shudders and he lets out a groan when she licks at his head. With this reaction, Maddie herself can’t do much more teasing. She wraps her lips around his head, sucking and sucking in time with the stroke of her hand. She keeps this up before opening her mouth to him, drawing him in as deep as she can. Brown eyes that she loves so much roll back as he tenses and tries to relax in her mouth and Maddie attempts to stifle a laugh. The vibrations shoot through him, and his hands squeeze at the couch cushions. It would be so easy to chase the sensations that the warmth of her mouth brings. It would be so easy to let himself tense and tense and tense until he explodes in the back of her throat. There wouldn’t be anything she could do about it if he does, though he’s sure she’d disapprove and who knows what punishment that would bring him. Instead, Chimney attempts to think about anything other than the way her tongue swirls around the head of his dick. Anything other than the feeling of him being drawn down her warm throat as far as she can take it.

It takes everything in Chimney to stop her when he feels his orgasm truly begin to build. He can’t take more, he thinks. He wants to be inside of her when he releases for her. He’s been flirting with the brink of release for at least two hours when she twirls the silicone ring around her finger just in his line of view. Chimney groans and that devilish smile of hers returns. Chimney has no problem with getting hard, staying hard, or stamina. But the couple of rings they bought really add to their pleasure, allowing Chimney to draw out more of Maddie’s beautiful orgasms. Their eyes meet as her underwear falls to the floor. It takes just a second and she slips the ring around the base of his cock, her desire growing just as his erection does right before her eyes.

“Feel alright?” she asks, not wanting him to be uncomfortable in the slightest.

He nods, clears his throat before choking out a yes as the ring squeezes against his base. It feels good, but it feels even better when Maddie straddles his lap and sinks down on him, grateful they read the ingredients to the lube before purchasing and delighted at the way his face contorts and his breath catches in his throat. She takes him, inch by inch. Chimney isn’t necessarily long, probably somewhere slightly above average in length but girthier than most. The ring emphasizes his width, has her pressing her mouth to his to stifle the guttural moan the leaves her throat as she adjusts. There’s nothing for him to grab and Maddie hasn’t told him he can touch yet, so he chooses to stuff his hands between the cushions to counteract the way her walls clench around him.

Maddie focuses on herself for the most part, rocking her hips in a way that feels good, but it doesn’t stop Chimney’s own pleasure from building on its own accord. Chimney’s head falls back to the couch, and he simply watches her, watches her erotic scene of him disappearing and reappearing between them. He wants to touch her. He needs to touch her or do something with his hands beside clutch onto plush cushions. She’s sexy, exceedingly sexy with her eyes closed and her head tilted to the side. Her tongue pokes out to lick her lips.  When her eyes open, his girlfriend, his beautiful, talented, wonderfully evil girlfriend adjusts once more, one foot propping up for leverage. The change in angle is just what she needs if the rapid sounds of her moans are any sign, and it allows for him to press in just the perfect spot to draw out every single ounce of pleasure he can.

It’s when his hands move to the back of the couch to ground himself in reality that she takes them and moves one to her still covered breast and the other to her ass, giving him permission. It’s as though Chimney comes alive at being able to touch her. His own talented fingers draw the cup of her bra down, teeth nipping at the skin of her breast before he pulls her nipple into his mouth until it’s erect. She clenches around him with every suck of his mouth. His other hand kneads and palms at her ass and it’s as though he hasn’t touched her in years. They find their rhythm easily, slow at first because Maddie isn’t quite done teasing yet. She can’t last long. She’s been dripping wet for as long as he has and the way he reacts to her, the way he wants so desperately to please her has that metaphorical rubber band close to its snapping point. Maddie watches as he goes doe-eyed for her, and she knows he’s close.

“Is that all you can take, baby?” her hips don’t stop their movement as she asks him, and he nods. She tuts again, her hips rocking in time with her own command. “Use. Your. Words.”

“Yes, Maddie. Fuck, Maddie it’s all… I can’t…” His hands dig into her waist, hard enough to bruise as their pace increases, but she welcomes the minute pain as she climbs the ladder of her own desire once more.

Ever the pleaser, Chimney grunts through his own arousal. He removes one hand from her waist to find her clit, stimulating her both inside and out until she’s panting and letting expletives of her own fall from plumped lips. His thrusting hips match his circling fingers and she’s so close, her toes curl in excitement.

“Howie,” she draws out his name as she begins to pulse around him in her own release.

Maddie leans forward, wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his ear and tells him to make her come, to come inside of her while he does it, as deep as he can, as much as he can. Her words are a catalyst to his orgasm, sending him over the edge he’s been on for hours. Hearing him cum for her is the most satisfying sound. Feeling him thrust into her until he’s done is just as spectacular. Maddie could get drunk off the way her name sounds as it’s stretched through moan after moan of his pleasure.

When their hips slow and they catch their breath, Maddie presses her lips to his. He’s a vision as his eyes droop. He’s exhausted in the cutest way. She slips from him, slips the ring from around his dick. They’ll need to clean themselves and the toy up before getting into bed. With one hand, Maddie pulls a still dazed Chimney from the couch and all but drags him to the bathroom for a nice, soothing bath, both of their legs jelly and their lust for one another satisfied. For now.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 40

THE ROAD SO FAR

It's not that hard to say goodbye. But it's really sad for the notable few who enjoyed it.

The SIXth Ship

"Alex"

Sierra Leone, Africa

"Echo 3 - 1 to Hunter One One. We have confirmed the presence of a suspected SAM Turret. Advising not to deploy air support until it's down, over." Alex muttered over the radio as he lowered his scope.

"Copy that, Three One. We'll stand by for your go signal." Roach replied as Alex signaled his team to move forward, covering Alpha Team's six.

"This place is suspiciously quiet." Price muttered over comms.

"It's 5 am. Bad guys probably needed sleep too." Alex commented, scoping on what's head of Team Alpha.

"Well, I want Volt awake, so I could beat Nero's location out of him." Price spat.

"Guardhouse on the east. Single guard, fast asleep."Alex shot his suppressed rifle as the guard dropped to the ground.

"Good Night."

"I'm hearing an engine starting on our east." Soap whispered as Alex turned his scope east. There was indeed a truck load of food arriving at their base.

"Civilian delivery truck." Alex warned.

"Let him pass. He'll notice the dead guard and run." Price predicted and it actually happened as the innocent driver sped off away from the base.

"How long till he calls the cops?" Alex asked.

"Never. France already bribed the guy." Soap answered.

"What?" Alex was puzzled.

"Welcome to Africa." Soap chuckled and they hid into the supply truck while Price drove inside.

"Alright, we're in. Soap and France should plant charges on SAMs and Comms. Once their alarm rings we light things up." Price ordered as Alex's team advanced and circled the perimeter, protecting the gates.

"Where could Volt be hiding?" Alex asked.

"Could be anywhere. This base has lots of buildings." Rocket replied not far behind him.

"There are also six ships by the dock. He could be in one of those." Royce added.

"Alpha Team, we've got movement on your six. Looks like they're looking for their supply drop. They're by the truck and unloading their supplies." Alex warned as the three remained quiet.

"Tango by the guard house down." Rocket confirmed his kill as the body dropped on the ground.

"They're about to discover their dead allies. Prepare for the alarm!" Alex roared as their alarm system activated, dozens of troops from their camps emerged carrying weapons.

"Shit! I'm taking sniper fire by the rooftops!" Soap yelled over comms. Bravo team immediately turned their sights to the rooftops and took down the snipers with ease.

"There's no sign of Volt here. He must've woken up early. Rendezvous with me by the tower." Price muttered.

"Sir. This is Meat from Charlie Team. We've confirmed movement on the docks. No positive ID of Volt yet."

"Copy that meat. Proceeding to the docks." Price said as gunfire echoed through his comms.

"Seeing multiple reinforcements from the gate!" Alex alerted as they attempted to shoot down armored cars loaded with more enemies.

"Alex! This area is compromised!" One of his allies suggested as smoke started to cover their forest.

"Shit! We'll have to meet up with them inside! Change to assault weapons and advance to the gate. You two cover our six using thermals." The two nodded as Alex switched to his assault rifle, advancing towards the gate, taking down reinforcements as they arrived.

"Price? Soap? France? Sitrep?" He roared through comms as his team was now barraged with heavy fire as they hid for cover.

"This is Bravo Six. I made my way inside the last ship. Looks like he's trying to escape. France and Soap are by the docks taking heavy fire. I'll handle Volt from here. You hold out for extraction. It looked like we didn't have a choice." Price said.

Alex felt the heat of the explosion as the ground shook. Soap had detonated the charges they set and help was on the way.

"Roach!" Soap sounded hurt.

"Way ahead of you!" Roach said as the air support bombarded the base with grenade shells, blasting every enemy away as the ground troops recovered.

"Reloading for another round. Stand by." He said as the plane circled back.

"Okay team! Their numbers have reduced. Let's finish this." Alex informed his bravo team as they finished off the remaining waves of enemies, which were too resourceful as they also had attack hyenas, something they didn't expect.

"These dogs are furious!" One commented as they entered the gates, securing the whole base or what's left of it, for valuable intel.

"Echo Three One to Actual. Jack, it looked like they cleaned this place already."

"Actual to Three One. Looks like it. I guess their getaway ship had all his latest work."

"Charlie team found a way to follow them. Bravo team resume recon on the five ships." Jack commanded and the rest followed

"Copy that, Actual. Proceeding towards the ships with caution." Alex replied as they carefully pressed deeper into the base toward the pier. Alex wondered how many piers and ships had been involved on his missions. Looks like Nero doesn't trust air travel.

The ships were rusted and broken, but the components inside were new stacks of equipment possibly used for his bomb making.

"This sly guy hides his stuff inside these rusty ships." Alex reported, his voice echoed around the ship.

"We're all clear, Alex. This ship is empty of tangos." One of his allies reported.

"So are the other ones." Another one reported.

"We found the rest of Alpha team by the pier. Looks like Soap's injured." Said another.

"Copy that. Stay frosty. We have no visual of the entrance so reinforcements might arrive." Alex replied to everyone.

"Roger that." The rest of his team replied in unison. Roach's Air support chopper hovered ahead of them and followed the getaway ship, providing support to Capt. Price. Charlie team had borrowed some small boats to aid in Volt's capture.

"It's all up to him now." Alex muttered as they resumed securing the enemy base.

"So, how was your day?" Samantha smiled, slipping herself inside the covers as she lay down beside Alex. The tired man huffed out a sigh and looked at her beautiful girlfriend, whose eyes were staring at him longingly. It's been almost a month since the task force was created and they were on separate beds, but Alex always makes sure he sleeps over every time he's free.

"Oh, you know. The other kind of usual. We beat information out of Nero's bomb maker today." He said in an interesting tone.

"I know beating people is wrong, but when you've been played with by these kinds of people, it's kind of pleasant to the ears." She chuckled, her hand gliding on his arms and looked for his hands.

"Yeah. I'll never stop doing it until they get a taste of their medicine." Alex breathed and looked at Samantha. Her eyes that once looked blank and lost now looked happy. It was tragic how she just wanted to live a normal life but had everything taken away from her.

"What would you do when this is all over?" She asked, questioning his last statement.

"Well, I could finally take you out on a nice date. Maybe say hi to your dad or something." he blurted, making Samantha's eyes widen in surprise.

"Aww.." She smiled as she leaned in for a kiss, while Alex slowly lifted her so that she's now lying on top of him.

"Why is it that every kiss feels so different." She mused as she leaned for another one.

"Maybe because my love for you grows stronger every second?" He replied.

"Haha. You're funny." She said sarcastically.

"That I am." He grinned as they rolled over, giggling at whatever they were doing.

"I love you, Samantha." Alex whispered in the sexiest way that he could resulting to Samantha actually giggling in disbelief.

"I love you too, Alex." She replied.

"Now, go to sleep. I want you well rested for your work tomorrow." She added as she turned the lamp off. Alex groaned like a kid who doesn't want to go to bed yet.

"How can I sleep, when even in the dark, I could still see your pretty face." He whispered as Samantha laughed.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, mister." She said as she turned back, letting Alex hug her from behind. She always loved his warm embrace beside him, a feeling of security amidst all the times that she'd been kidnapped.

The next morning, Alex came back to the base after breakfast with Samantha. It has been a while since he had that and thought that it wouldn't hurt to go late once in a while.

"Where have you been?" Roach asked as soon as he got to the base.

"I overslept." he lied as Roach scoffed.

"You? Hahaha. Nice try. I know full well that no matter what happens you always wake up at the exact time." Roach laughed.

"Why? Is there something wrong with Volt?" Alex pressed on to the main topic at hand.

"The guy had a little fight. But he actually talked."

"Yeah? About what? Nero's location?"

"No. And This isn't like the official thing, it's just rumors. Price slept at the infirmary today and hasn't woken up yet. So the news is that his EMP tech is now capable of killing humans on a set radius."

"Shit." Alex hissed.

"I know. It could launch anywhere anytime and no one could hide from it. A whole new kind of killing weapon." Roach wondered, making them worry about what Nero's about to do.

"Volt better get talking soon."

"Yeah. He better." Roach approved with an encouraging voice.

Later that afternoon the whole 141 was briefed about a message sent from Nero himself. Thousands of humans, civilians and soldiers alike, were nuked just outside the American capital.

The blast didn't do much damage to infrastructure but machines and humans suffered more than ever. Some were able to withstand the mental damage while some were left in a trance state. Some who already had some form of mental problems suffered horribly and dropped dead on the streets.

It was estimated that about half a million people were affected as the nuke exploded by the ocean. Some say this was a miscalculation and others speculated that this was Nero's warning shot.

America had raised itself on high alert, any time Nero's troops would charge on American soil ignoring all authorities who wanted to stop him. This was it. His plan finally came to fruition.

As for the task force, they have located the main signal of the nuke's control. A place somewhere in Cuba. Alex and Jack knew this place was once visited by older CIA SAD members and rumors had it that one of their Black Ops comrades died there. It once housed the reverse engineered Greenlight nuke. Alex never told anyone in 141 about this as history would tend to repeat itself. He hoped that this was not the case.

This would be the lead that the rest of the task force will be focusing on. As the war rages, Alex was sure that the following days would be the toughest so, while waiting for any potential final lead and orders from above, they spent the rest of their time training for the final showdown against Nero.

Optional Chapter : The Fall of the Capital - Pvt. Ramirez

Next Chapter : FIVE Seconds

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @whimsywispsblog

[viastro]

there for you | chwe vernon hansol

ミ★ synopsis: in which you can’t admit you’re in love with your best friend, vernon, so joshua takes matters into his own hands.

ミ★ genre: best friends to lovers!au, humor, fluff, some angst

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 3,752

ミ★ pairings: vernon x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! I just wanted to start off by saying thank you so much for following me! I just hit 100 followers last night and that was really crazy to me HAHA. It really means so much to me and I’m so grateful that 100 people like my writing, so thank you so much ! I hope you enjoy this oneshot for vernon! <3

“I just think that megalodon is still out there, like what if they’re just swimming at the bottom of the ocean!” You exclaim, Vernon turning to look at you with a scoff. 

“You’re crazy, there’s no way that big ass shark bitch is still alive.” You frown at those words, choosing to shove him off your bed as a response. 

“BRUH.” Vernon shouts from your carpeted floor, and you let out a content sigh. 

“Don’t disrespect my boy megalodon like that.” You simply tell him, and you can feel him roll his eyes from your floor. “Don’t roll your eyes at me!” You say, leaning off your bed to point at him.

He gives you an evil grin, and before you know it, he’s grabbed your arm and pulled you down on top of him. He lets out a loud, “OOF!” and you laugh in his face, making him chuckle and roll you off of him. 

“I was not expecting you to literally knock the breath out of me. Holy fuck I wasn’t ready.” Vernon groans and you giggle, staring up at the worn out glow in the dark stars on your ceiling.

You and Vernon became friends in your freshman year of high school. You met each other through your mutual friend Joshua, who may have had secret matchmaking intentions, and the two of you instantly clicked. You started hanging out after school, going to the library to study together, joining drama club for fun but getting kicked out for being too loud during the actual play itself. 

You and Vernon are quite literally two peas in a pod (or is the phrase three peas in a pod?) Either way, you’re best friends. This is proven from the fact that you’re both in your last year of college, about to graduate and obtain your bachelor’s degree, and are still hanging out just the same. You both almost got an apartment together, but you decided to room by yourself and Vernon would room with Joshua. However, it’s almost as if you guys live together anyways by how much you go over to his apartment and he goes to yours. 

No matter how busy you both are, you still try and make time to see each other. Especially on Fridays, those were your cooking nights. Joshua joins in on this tradition as well, considering that it involves eating food. The three of you research recipes to offer to the table on Friday, whoever’s recipe gets the most votes, then you guys make it. It’s the highlight of your week, if you’re being honest.

Those around you have always thought you and Vernon were dating at some point in knowing the both of you, but you and him have never made any move to push your friendship into something more. The only thing you guys have done is be each other's first kiss, which is actually a very anticlimactic story. no it’s not.

It was the winter of senior year, you and Vernon were making it a mission to build an igloo due to the recent heavy snowfall that hit Seoul. You were focused on building the igloo, but Vernon had other ideas.

“Vernon, please! I wanna at least get this base layer done-” You’re cut off when you get hit in the face with a snowball, knocking you over from your crouched position. You close your eyes, hearing Vernon’s loud laugh at your tragic fate.

“I’m gonna kill you Chwe Vernon.” You mutter, standing up and making a snowball. 

“If you can catch me yn!” He taunts, thus beginning your chase around his backyard. 

“I swear to god! I just wanted to make an igloo!” You yell, laughing when he slips and falls backwards, knocking the wind out of him. You run up to him, placing your snowball right on top of his nose. He lets out a small laugh, making you giggle as well. He grabs your arm and pulls you down so that you’re laying beside him in the cold snow. 

“Have you ever thought about the fact that we’re eighteen, and still haven’t had our first kiss yet?” Vernon asks you, turning to glance at you. You stare at the small snowflakes falling, watching your breath expand into the sky due to the cold.

“What makes you think I haven’t had my first kiss yet?” You challenge, turning your head to look back at him. He scoffs at that, immediately calling out your lie, “Yeah, okay. Says the girl who literally ran away from her crush when he tried to give her back her pencil.” 

You sit up, hitting his stomach and he lets out a loud laugh, “You’re gonna look at me and tell me that I’m wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well and turning to face you.

“I mean, you’re not. But still! I hate that memory with a passion.” You say with a pout, and he smiles at you. “Why would you even bring up that topic though?” You ask and he shrugs, turning away.

“I don’t know. I was gonna ask if we could be each other’s first kiss, to get it over with, ya know?” Your eyes widen once his proposition falls past his lips. The tips of his ears are red, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold, or because of what he just suggested, or maybe both. Either way, they’re red, and your face is very warm.

“You’re crazy.” You sputter and he shakes his head.

“It’s not a bad idea though, like if anyone asks we could say that we’ve had our first kiss. We don’t even need to mention that we were each other’s first kiss! This is strictly for the sake of our egos.” Vernon says, and you hate how right he sounds. 

“Ugh, fine.” You mutter and Vernon’s eyes widen, turning to look at you to make sure you are serious.

“R-really?” 

“I’m about to take it back if you don’t kiss me now.” You state, turning towards him and closing your eyes. “See! My eyes are even closed, just get it over with.” 

Vernon lets out a nervous chuckle, taking in the visual of you with snowflakes on your hair, the snowflake on the tip of nose, and your ridiculously pretty lips. He knew that he didn’t have feelings for you, and that this was simply a… platonic… kiss, but he knew this image would be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his life.

He reaches his hand out, slowly brushing it against your cheek. You let out a small huff of air through your lips, and he smiles. That’s when he decides to lean in and give you both your very first kiss.

“Oh shit, I have to go get ready.” Vernon says, snapping you back to reality. He gets up off the floor, and you stare at him with a dazed expression.

“Why? It’s only 5-”

“I have a date tonight.” He tells you with a small sheepish smile, and you feel your heart slowly sink into your ass.

“Deadass? With who?” You ask, feeling a strange sense of DEATH linger in your ass.

“You know that one girl I partnered with in my intro to literature class, Minji? I asked her out the other day because I’ve been interested in her since we did that project together, turns out the feelings were reciprocated. We’re going on our first date at 6, so I should head back to my apartment to get ready.” Vernon explains quickly as he grabs his wallet, phone, and charger. He pats your head and heads out of your room. 

“I’ll text you later tonight!” He calls, then you hear your apartment door close. You stay in the same position for awhile, wondering why the fuck your heart sank into your ass.

You and Vernon are just friends! Besties! Bffies! Of course he’s gonna go find a person to date, so are you! College is the time for exploring and possibly meeting the person you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with! It’s such a good thing that Vernon has found himself a date! You’re his best friend! You should be ecstatic over this!!

So why the FUCK are you sitting here feeling like your heart got ripped out of your ASSHOLE .

“It’s probably because I’m jealous,” You say, feeling your stomach twist at the sentence, “jealous of the fact that she might replace me and Vernon won’t need a best friend anymore. Yeah. That’s better.” it’s not better.

“Oh God, I’m gonna call Joshua. I feel like I’m gonna hurl.” You mutter, whipping your phone out of your pocket to text Joshua to come over.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Have you considered the thought that you might be, I don’t know, jealous?” Joshua asks from your kitchen as he whips up two eggs for the both of you. Joshua came as soon as you called, and you sat down at your kitchen island to tell him the story while he went into your kitchen to cook you some comfort food.

“Yes! That’s the conclusion I came up with-”

“Oh thank fucking God. I was wondering how long it was gonna take for one of you to realize that you both like-”

“That I’m jealous of the fact that Minji might take my place! Like, I’m pretty much one of the only girls in his life aside from his mom and his sister, so I feel threatened! Especially because Vernon has never been on a date in the duration of our friendship. That’s why I’m jealous. It makes perfect sense.” You finish, taking a large gulp of your green tea. Joshua stares at you, realizing how stupid you are. 

“Uh, you okay Shua? Your eye is like… twitching…” You point out, and he raises a hand up to his eye, letting out a small exasperated chuckle.

“I’m fine…” He responds, realizing that his two best friends are fucking idiots. I didn’t introduce the two of them to each other in freshman year of high school JUST for them to stay best friends god DAMN IT. He thinks to himself, placing the finished eggs on each of your plates.

Joshua walks over to your kitchen island, sitting down on the stool and handing you your plate. You mutter a small “Thank you, Shua.” then you both begin to eat, seemingly ignoring the subject to focus on filling your empty stomachs.

Also because Joshua thought he was gonna explode if he spent another second discussing it.

Actually no he’s gonna say ONE LAST THING.

“Do you really think you’re jealous of that? Like, do you really think-”

“Yes! It makes the most sense Shua, what else would I be jealous about-”

“Maybe because you have feelings for Vernon that you’ve been suppressing all these years due to the fear that he might not reciprocate them?” He suggests, turning to glance at your reaction.

You freeze at his words, staring down at the yolk oozing out of the egg onto your rice. You can’t help but feel like you’ve been caught, but you haven’t been caught? Because it’s not true… right? it’s true.

“That’s not true.” You mean to say this confidently, but you mutter it so quietly that even Joshua has a hard time being able to understand what you said.

“What?”

“It’s not true!” You announce, feeling more upset and sick by the minute. Joshua can’t help but feel guilty, but he knows that this conversation is important or else you’ll always hold in these feelings.

“Yn, you know that it’s true.” He says softly, and you let out a shaky breath, “I’m scared.” Joshua cocks his head to the side, confused as to why you’d be scared.

“Why?” He asks, and you bite your lip. You turn your head and give him a small smile, feeling tears flood your eyes.

“Because if I say it, then it’s true. It’ll be out there. It won’t be the secret I’ve been hiding since I was nineteen, the day he got me cotton candy at the store for no reason, simply because he knew it’s my favorite.” You answer honestly, wiping away the stray tears that fell. 

“I knew it then. That was the day I really knew my feelings weren’t just adoration and love because we were close friends. It was because I really did love him. I had a feeling that what I was feeling towards him wasn’t really… normal in friendships. That I was actually developing feelings for him, but I always just pushed it back.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with Joshua. He stays quiet beside you, and you anxiously shove two spoonfuls of egg and rice in your mouth. 

“Why don’t you tell him? If you don’t say anything now then it’ll be too late-”

“It already is too late Joshua! He’s already on a date with a girl he’s been interested in for awhile. I,” You sigh, taking in another shaky breath before continuing. “I haven’t told him or tried to initiate anything because I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship either. It’s so cheesy and like the most generic excuse someone could give for falling for their best friend, but it’s true! If he doesn’t feel the same, and I confess how I feel, then it all just gets awkward. We won’t go back to how we used to be.”

You shove the last spoonful of rice and egg in your mouth, standing up with your plate to go and wash it. Joshua watches you with sad eyes as you aggressively start soaping up your plate and silverware.

“I just,” you turn off the faucet and place your hands on the counter, gripping it to keep you in place. “The day that him and I kissed? Just for the sake of us having our first kiss? It taunts me. I didn’t even like him at that time, but the memory is like a slap in the face. It was hard to not fall in love with him, I still failed at that though, right?” 

Joshua lets out an agitated sigh, “I have to tell you something-”

“No, don’t say that he loves me too. Don’t give me false hope like that Shua, it’s too late anyways.” You tell him, turning and giving him a sad smile. 

“But it’s not! He’s literally crazy about you yn!” You open your mouth to object, only to be cut off by a knock on your door. Joshua gives you a look as if to say, were you expecting someone? To which you give him a look that means, no, I didn’t.

Joshua walks over to look through your peephole to see who’s at the door, only for his eyes to widen when he sees Vernon waiting on the other side. He turns to look at you, motioning for you to come over. You wipe your wet hands on your kitchen towel before walking over. Eyes immediately widening when you see Vernon through the peephole.

“Yn? Are you home?” He calls, and you let out a small squeak. 

“Alright, I’m coming in anyways.” He responds, taking out your spare key from his pocket. Joshua turns to look at you with wide eyes and you give him a panicked look.

“He has your keys?!” He whispers as you both run to your kitchen to act as if you didn’t hear Vernon.

“Of course he has my keys! I have your guys’ key too!” You whisper back, frantically turning on the sink. Joshua shoves the last of the rice in his mouth before walking over to your side to act as if he was helping you wash dishes.

“You have our keys?!” He whisper shouts and you swat his arm, muttering that this is not the problem at hand.

“Yn?” Vernon calls as he steps in, noticing another pair of shoes beside your door.

“In the kitchen with Joshua!” You call back and Vernon nods his head, placing the bag of store bought goods on your kitchen island.

“Yall hung out without me?” He asks with a pout, and you almost giggle out a response before Joshua beats you to it.

“You were on a date anyways Vernon, we wouldn’t want to fourth wheel.” He teases, but Vernon notices the slight edge in his tone that you’re unable to.

“By the way, how was the date?” You ask, trying to ignore the pang in your heart as soon as the question leaves your mouth. He shrugs, sitting on one of the stools in front of your kitchen island.

 “Kinda disappointing I guess? It wasn’t a proper fit, her and I.” Vernon says, and you scold yourself for feeling a twinge of hope.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You respond, and Joshua nudges you. You turn and look at him, and he gives you a look that basically means, TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM BEFORE I DO! You glare back at him, shaking your head NO!

“So now you guys are speaking in code too? Damn, what did I miss in those two hours.” Vernon jokes. 

“If you don’t do it, I will. I’m tired of seeing you two act like you’re not hurting.” Joshua whispers and you glare at him. “You wouldn’t dare Joshua Hong-”

“Yn is in love with you Vernon.” Your mouth drops open when the sentence leaves his mouth, and so does Vernon’s mouth. 

My god he really done diddly dared.

“N-no I don’t.” You sputter, turning off the sink and wiping your hands on the kitchen towel.

“Yes she does. She’s been pushing her feelings away this whole time. Also, yn,” Joshua says, turning around to face you. 

“Vernon’s been in love with you since you both had your first kiss when it was snowing. I’ll be taking my leave now, please use protection if this newfound information takes you to that route once I leave. Love you! Update me later!” Joshua says, waving goodbye as he leaves your apartment. 

Leaving you and Vernon to just stand there, staring at each other with wide eyes and warmth rushing tp your faces. You look down at the kitchen floor, unsure of what to do now that your feelings are literally out and about, but you know that what you had feared didn’t come true.

because vernon loves you.

“I uh,” Vernon starts, coughing into his arm before continuing, “bought us cotton candy ice cream to eat? We can eat it while we talk if you want?” 

You feel your heart melt at the fact that he bought your favorite ice cream flavor in the world on his way home, so you nod your head. You grab two bowls and two spoons, placing them on the kitchen island. Vernon scoops out the pink and purple colored ice cream into each bowl. Once he’s done, you place the tub in the freezer, and you both head towards your couch. 

He sits down, and you sit down beside him. For the first few minutes, you both kinda just sit there eating your ice cream. In those few minutes, you’re both having an internal battle in your minds.

Until you break the silence and turn to him, causing him to look back at you, spoon in his mouth and all.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, I just didn’t accept it until now.” You state, but he’s staring at the small dribble of ice cream at the corner of your lip. He reaches out and brushes it off with his thumb, before bringing his thumb back to his mouth to suck off the ice cream. 

“D-did you hear what I just said?” You stutter, currently a panicking mess at the previous move he pulled even though he’s done it countless of times before. It’s different now.

“Yes, and I’m currently losing my marbles internally over that because I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” He says, giving you a small nervous smile. He places his bowl on your coffee table, taking your bowl as well and placing it beside his. Now that your hands are empty, he grasps them, giving them a small squeeze.

“I knew from the moment you closed your eyes, waiting for me to kiss you as the snow fell around us, that I was in love with you. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed in my eighteen years of living at that time, and I still think that you are the most beautiful, precious person that I have been blessed to have in my life.” Vernon confesses, and you feel an intense rush of warmth flood to your cheeks as he stares into your eyes with the most genuine look you’ve ever seen on him.

“I love you, yn. I’ve loved you since we were eighteen. I went on that date with Minji today because I thought I could try and get over you that way, which is dumb I know, don’t need to tell me twice. I just, fuck. When we were at the restaurant, I’d look at her, right,” He makes a hand motion as if he was looking through a pair of binoculars and you let out a giggle.

“And I would wish that she was you. That’s why the date didn’t work out, because she and I didn’t fit. I can’t try and date someone else when all I wish is for them to be you.” Vernon says and you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your heart pang against your chest. You squeeze his hands, and he lets out a small laugh.

“That being said, will you go on a date with me?” Vernon asks, and you smile, nodding your head softly.

“I’d love to.” You answer and he gives you a big smile, opening his arms and pulling you in them. You wrap your arms around his waist, hearing his loud heartbeat against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling happily.

“I love you.” He whispers and you let out a small squeal, making him laugh. You raise your head up from his shoulder, looking into his deep brown eyes.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss to his lips. He responds right away, squeezing your hips softly. He lets a smile break loose, making you smile as well until the kiss is just teeth clashing. You pull away, laying your head in the crook of his neck once again. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that again since the first time. Jesus Christ, it’s been four years since we had our first kiss.” He mutters and you laugh, lifting your head up again so that you’re facing each other. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Vernon asks and you smile.

“You don’t have to ask if you can kiss me silly.”

“Of course I have to! I need to respect women!”

“Oh my God, your mind.”

meanwhile...

Joshua is at his apartment, playing his guitar quietly. He’s at peace knowing that all is well and his ship has finally sailed happily.

“I better be his best man for pulling that one.” Joshua mutters to himself, smiling at the prospect that you and Vernon are finally together. 

All because of ME BABY! All ME!

JOSHUA FIRST WIN!

[nitaescence]

Beauté de marbre

pairing : sculptor!Tae x reader genre : artist!au word count : 3.8k

summary — Taehyung, a formerly renowned artist, slowly reconnects with his art and catches himself falling for a girl whom sculpting leaves indifferent. That is until the day he discovers she is the critique’s daughter who caused his downfall after her libellious review on his latest work.

warnings — clay play?? oral, unprotected sex

moodboard

“Why did you step too hard?” Laughs Taehyung.

“It’s not my fault.” You pout watching him grab with one hand the big piece of clay that you’ve just sent crashing to the ground. “You set the speed too high.”

He slams the clay hard on the wheel, startling you.

He huffs, “right, my mistake.” He wets his hands and bends over you, “wan’ me centring it for you?” You nod with a small pout. He steps on the pedal and the turntable begins rotating at a nice pace. “Scoot forward a bit.”

You allow him to sit on the large stool behind you and focus on his hands expertly pressing the rough ball of clay up and down repeatedly. The muscles in his arms bulge a little in his attempt to get a perfect rotational symmetry.

He carefully retreats his hand when he hears you whine as your way to show your will to take over.

“You good on your own?”

You nod while wetting your hands. “You can go now.”

Taehyung stands up, takes two steps back and rubs his cheek with the back of his wrist, observing you trying to make a centred hollow. “Don’t need to go any faster.”

His lips stretch in a crooked smile when you don’t answer, totally focused.

His eyes travel down your back to the short shorts half-covering your enticing curves when you sit up. He chews his gum again while ogling your thighs and legs involuntarily tensing, making him twitch in his pants.

You catch him staring and whine, “go!”

He grins cheekily. “‘Right… I’m leaving you alone.”

*************

His desire got the better of him and half an hour later, you hear him shuffling back in his workshop where you are still busy making pottery.

You haven’t changed your position on the stool and so he decides to sit back behind you. You feel his hand sneak between your legs to lean on the small free space you left of the chair, molding his chest to your back.

He nuzzles your hair, “are you done?”

“Hm, I finished the first ball,” you explained without averting your eyes from the ball of clay flattening under your fingers.

Taehyung finds your creation sitting on the small table on the left. He pulls away from you to take a closer look at the small vase. It isn’t the best one but to him it looks perfect.

“What’s wrong with you?” He wonders to himself. “At this rate, Jimin will ask you to teach instead of me.”

You smile at his words, remembering the small workshop adjoining Jimin’s flower shop he works in as a pottery teacher.

He puts the object back on the table and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Aaah,” you sigh and stretch your neck and shoulders. “I can’t do this.”

“Why, why, why?” He asks when he feels you resting against him. “Are you giving up?”

You nod, sulking. He chuckles looking down at you. “What’s wrong? What are you trying to make?”

You sit up and smile embarrassed, “I don’t even know. I just want to shape the walls with the same thickness but I’m just making the hole larger.”

“Want me to help?” He leans forward as well and rests his arms on your thighs. You nod. “Let’s see.”

He wets his hands and you withdraw yours.

“Let’s just start again. It’ll be easier that way.”

He nimbly prepares a third ball until he’s about to open it. He guides your hand on the wet clay and together you start hollowing it until the hole is big enough for your hands to go in.

“Put your hand here and the other one here,” he mumbles as he places you. “Keep track of the pressure you apply with your fingers.”

“No,” you cry when you feel him letting go, making him whine in return.

“You’re doing good.”    

He keeps one hand on yours and makes circles with his hurting shoulder.

“See? You’re learning fast.” He kisses the crook of your neck.

Without you realizing it, you’re left shaping on your own.

The heady scent of your hair stirs his initial motive and has him pressing his half hard-on against your ass as his coated hands trail along your thighs.

“Tae…”

He hums in response, relishing the rush of blood you’re causing, swelling him rapidly. You’re feeling it and your hands are getting weaker.

“I’m gonna mess it all over again.” You whimper while he’s lifting up your shirt and smears clay on your naked breasts.

“Forget about it, I want you.” He moans in your ear when your ass rubs his cock . His hand cups your jaw to guide and trap your mouth in his. You welcome his dominant tongue and melt in his touch but part to grunt after he’s begun to rub your clit over your shorts, nudging harder the tent in his pants.  

You feel yourself getting wetter but his fingers regrettably become unsatisfying. You take your feet off the pedal just in time when you’ve eventually realised the wheel’s picked up in pace.

A yelp of surprise leaves you when Taehyung effortlessly lifts and puts you down on the table nearby, growing quickly impatient as well. He helps you out of your clothes and undresses himself while you’re kissing him and painting his chest, neck and the hair at his nape.

You glance down and feel yourself clenching instantly at the sight of his painfully hard erection standing thick and throbbing in front of your bare sex. You desperately need a taste of him.

Taehyung catches your lips again and gently lays you on your back, following you in the motion not to break the kiss.

You moan in his mouth, he breaks apart to nibble on your neck as he steadily humps his leaking cock against your sensitive entrance and clit.

“It’s so slippery,” he grunts against your skin, gripping firmly on the edge of the table to rub himself harder. The clay has dried on your hands but you’re still able to feel the softness of his hair when your fingers interlace it.

Bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you claw his asscheek, your hand acting as an incentive to him.

“Baby…”

He cranes his neck to gaze down at you, a subtle frown adorning his gorgeous face. “What’s wrong babe?” He smirks at your frustrated look, “can’t take it anymore?”

“I’m fucking going crazy...”  

His eyes travel down naturally when you arch your back to leer at your chest pushing up directly in his face. His open mouth waters. His deep voice leaves him in a restrained whimper, “baby… Fuck…I can’t hold it.”

He supports himself above you, high enough to be able to visually guide his cock inside you without his hands.

You feel your pussy clenching expectantly every time his swollen tip brushes or pokes at your drenched entrance.

“Fuck,” he groans disgruntled. “I can’t put it in.”

“Let’s just go shower.”

Taehyung pulls you back to him to kiss and grope you while you wait for the water to get to the ideal temperature.

He washes his hands and turns you around. You crane your neck to the side to kiss him again while his palms rub your breasts clean. His fingers start playing with your pointing nipples and your hand presses on his nape.

“Let me suck on them,” he whines, turning you back to him.

Your smile falters the longer he keeps abusing the sensitive skin and you don’t want him to stop anytime soon. He grunts when you tug at his dampen hair.

You whine his name in despair and he doesn’t need more to eventually grant you some relief. His fingers blindly look for your throbbing heat, running his tips along your slit and rubbing tiny circles on your neglected clit.

He’s pleasing you just the way you love it but you don’t give him the time to even slip a finger inside you when you tell him to stop.

Just as he is straightening himself up, you drop down on your knees and take his cock in your mouth.

“____-” He moans helplessly, throwing his head back. “Baby, stop- I… I wanna be inside you-”

You shove his pulsing shaft as deep as you can, gagging on it soundly. Caught out, his mouth freezes open a couple of seconds before you pull out of him loud groans and cusses. He’s throbbing dangerously hard between your lips and he immediately forces you back up on your feet.

Satisfied, you look up at him and he chuckles. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He kisses you while walking you back against one of the walls. “Put me inside you.”

Moans come pouring out of you when he doesn’t let you adjust to his girth, relentlessly fucking you open.

His mouth is hovering yours, you can’t look away from his frowning face as you feel yourself getting close.

You move your hand away from his tensed up chest to rub your clit and trigger your orgasm.

Taehyung kisses you when he feels you tightening even harder around him. The leg he’s holding up begins to shake and he decides to hold you in his arms, impaling you all the way down.

“Huh… I love you.”

His ardor doesn’t ease up, overstimulating so much so tears start brimming your closed eyes.

As long as he would have liked this to last, he isn’t able to hold himself back anymore.

“I’m gonna cum.”

You try to get a grip on yourself and tap on his hand so he’ll let go of your legs. He frees one but is unable to stop his thrusting. He nuzzles your neck.

“Tae, don’t cum inside me.”

“Why not? I wanna fuck my cum in you- Shit… I can tell it’s turning you on” He whimpers in a small pout, his climax pending. His cock is brimming.

He nudges your nose. “Let me get you swollen with my baby, so you have a reason to move in with me.”

You smile coyly, “tempting but… We can’t... A- at least, not now.”

Taehyung lingers his gaze on you, fucked out and reluctantly pulls out with a curse.

You kneel down a second time and watch him guide his cock in your mouth with a push of his thumb at the base of his pulsing shaft. He’s breathing hard again when the warmth of your mouth welcomes him hungrily.

You look up and start bobbing your head, dragging your tongue and lips along the wet, veiny skin three times before the first spurt of cum shoots inside.

He lets you jerk him off, coating your breasts and chin with his sticky sperm and you can’t help but giggle at the endless amount that keeps being squirted out with every forward motion of your hand.

You suck his sensitive tip clean, overstimulating him which has him jerking in surprise.

He helps you up and you never look away from him while you scoop with your fingertip some of his semen and bring it to your mouth.

“What a waste.” He bites his lip, staring at the mess on your skin under heavy lids. “I wanna go again.”  

*********************

Spent, you’re both lying still on his large bed, resting in the darkness.  

You chuckle to yourself when a thought pops in your head.

Taehyung nudges you sleepily, “what is it?”

“Do you remember how angry you were when Jimin told you who my mother was?”

“Yeah… Your bruises lasted a whole week.”

You giggle quietly again. “I really had no idea.”

He doesn’t hear you immediately, too enthralled by the sight of your fingers slowly interlacing over and over again.

“About my mom…”

You feel him nudging his nose in the crook of your neck and breathing in quietly.

“I really don’t mind it… That’s behind me now.”

You look over your shoulder and see him still holding his weight on his arm, slightly leaning over your body as he gazed down at you. You barely distinguish each other in the darkness of his room yet neither one of you looks away.

You roll over to lie on your back and bring his hand between you. “How come your hands are still that soft?”

“They’re not,” he chuckles lightly.

“They are.” You object, observing it as you move it closer to your face. “They really are. I like them.”

You make Taehyung smile lazily the longer he feels you touching him. His long fingers trap both of your hands and he kisses them. “Your hands are the soft ones. They’re baby soft. It’s hard to believe you’ve done anything with them. They’re cute.”

**********************

You peek one eye open and close it as soon as you notice Taehyung’s face right in front of you. You slowly drape an arm around his neck and he hugs you to him in return, rubbing his face in your hair.

“What are you doing?” You mumble against his skin.

“Me? Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“You look cute sleeping.” He glances down at your frowning face when you push yourself apart from him. “What ? You don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure of that, hm? You can’t see yourself sleeping…” You hide in his neck again, making him crack a smile. His hand travels down your back to smack your ass. “Silly baby…”

You don’t hear what he says at first when he speaks again.

“I think I want to sculpt something again.”

“Really?” You perk up, delighted. “That’s great. What do you have in mind?”

He gives you a childish smile. “You. You’re the only thing in my mind.”

You frown discomfited while your brain processes his words. “What? Are you serious?”

His eyes look away as he combs his fingers through your hair, dreading your reaction.

“I mean only if you’re okay with it of course.”

“I… Well, uhm- I think I am but... I’ve never… posed for anyone before… I don’t know if I’ll be a good model.”

His eyes light up. “You’ll see it’s nothing too complicated. You actually won’t have to pose for a long time.”

“How do you exactly see me?”

His hand caresses your cheek. “Like you are right now but... not in bed.”

The thought makes you smile reluctantly.

“Well I wasn’t thinking of you completely naked… I think if we used some sort of silk shawl or veil… I was thinking I could make it seem like it’s swirling around you or something and it could be covering some parts of you, like your face...”

He watches you ponder his suggestion. You seem intrigued.

“I was actually sketching you. Earlier. That’s when I got the idea. I’ll draw a draft so you’ll see what I mean and make up your mind.”

You both remain quiet. You observe him gazing down at your body, tracing it above the thin sheet barely covering you, surely thinking about the different ways he’s already picturing you.

You’ve never seen him like that before.

“You hungry?” His voice snaps you out of your daydream. “I prepared some toasts and fruits and other things...”

You nod while shifting to lie on your back and stretch longly, giving him access to your bare breasts and he doesn’t need to be persuaded to cover them with loving kisses.

You cup the back of his head and the next second he’s hovering over your face, claiming your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“You don’t mind if I get to eat breakfast first.”

You bite your lip, “please do.”

************************

You disrobe entirely in his room and put on the kimono you had brought with you. You walk toward his studio where you hear some rummaging coming from. You peek your head past the door and note he is almost finished preparing the set.

Classical music is playing in the background, setting a comfortable atmosphere. Taehyung has his back turned to you and is holding something.

You subtly clear your throat, earning his attention instantly. His short ponytail swings when he looks back before he reveals his bare chest and arms flexing while he nimbly finishes adjusting the heavy camera. You shamelessly feast your eyes on the sight of him and you share a smile with a knowing look.

He shortens the distance between you but keeps his focus on his camera for another couple of seconds. You are looking around patiently in silence. You’re able to see from your spot in the workshop different pieces of paper.

You walk closer to the table they’ve been put on and take one of them. A subtle smile curves your lips when you recognize yourself or rather the sketched version of you. Some of them have been left in shades of grey and white, others display a few pastel colours here and there.

You put the paper down.

Your chest is thudding loudly from within after you’ve caught a glimpse of the different veils bunched nearby.

“Okay.” He mumbles quietly and sets the impressive device on the worktable. “So first I’m going to take some pictures in the position I want you to be in. I need you to be super still because I need different viewing points of your body in that exact same position, ‘right?”

You smartly nod and he smiles again.

“I’ll tape up the veil on several parts of your body… I don’t really know how else to do it.” He admits with pouting lips.

“I think it’ll be fine that way… It’ll just have to not be heavy.”  

He agrees and walks away to fetch the fabrics while you keep your motivation there.

“I brought different ones, the color isn’t important.” He trails while coming back in front of you. “Ready?”      

Without hesitation, you let the kimono open itself, the soft fabric now able to slide down effortlessly along your body to pool around your feet. You look up at him.

If the sight of your bare body takes his breath away, he doesn’t let it show.

You notice the subtle squeeze his jaw makes while he’s getting an eyeful of you. Your lips part to let air rush in after he has gotten even closer, now towering over you.

Your face is instinctively pulled in when only a few inches separate you. The tips of the fabrics in his hands tickle the skin of your lower stomach. A light chuckle escapes him. You seem hypnotized.

“What is it?”

He’s looking down between you, faintly frowning. “You’re not going easy on me…”

“Too much too soon?” You giggle.

Your mouths are impossibly close but neither of you gives in. Taehyung reluctantly pulls back just in time.

A crooked smile adorns your lips while you watch him decide on the best fabric to don your enticing body and astutely find the spot where it will get taped up invisibly to you.

His fingers are barely brushing your skin, placing and replacing the veil around the tip of your feet and calf, in front of your crotch, winding it around your ribs right below the swell of your breast where a path of shivers awakens the skin. The other end of the fabric rolls up your nape to hide your face.

“Can you hold it for me?”

You raise your arm carefully to grasp the veil above your head, unable to see anything and waiting for further instruction. You hear him taking something you guess to be the camera.

“Shift your weight on your right foot.”    

White light flashes in short seconds three or four times. You try to remain as still as possible as he keeps on photographing you.

“You’re doing great,” you hear his voice behind you and light flashes again. “You cold?”

“I’m okay. Is it as good as you thought it’d be?”

He hums agreeing. “You can drop this now.”

You lower your arms and Taehyung circles your front to let you take a look at some of the pictures. He keeps a hand under to help hold the heavy camera.

Like any other photographs of you, you don’t think much of yourself but you trust his eye.

“I think it’ll look really great,” he speaks softly in your ear and gently presses himself against your back. “When I’m done with it I want myself to desire that body as much as I desire the real one.”

You are feeling everything but cold.

“I want people to feel that attraction and feel miserable because they’ll never be able to have you.”

You chuckle to yourself as you finish scrolling through all of the pictures. “You don’t have to be so dramatic, you know. What’s the next step?”

He brushes your hair to the side to kiss your neck. “Build a clay form of you.”

“And you’re able to do that from simple pictures?” You wonder as he takes the device from you.

“It’s the easiest step… but-” his hand grasps onto your hip to have your backside pushing against his twitching crotch, tearing a quiet grunt from him. “It’s preferable to have the model present.”

“Then... what are you waiting for?” You grin lightly, pushing back deliberately.

He whines and eventually takes the veil off of you and cups your breast. “There’s no rush-.”

“Hmm, that’s not very serious of you mister big artist.” You mock, looking back to face him.

“I told you, you weren’t making it easy for me...”

****************

You walk in the room he’s reserved expressly for sculpting where he’s spent most of his time the past three months. The floor is covered with white residue and dust. The sculpture stands in the middle on a pedestal, imposing. Taehyung’s crouching, polishing the feet and ankles and doesn’t hear you at first.

You’ve never imagined once in your life you’d be facing a marble version of you, naked moreover but the final result is quite pleasing to your eye. You’ve never given much thought to anything art-related, your mother never managed to get you as much interested as she may have hoped for you to get.

You slowly walk around, make eye contact with him and guess his smile behind the mask he’s wearing.

“Is it nearly done yet?” You watch him standing up and removing the protective gear to join you.

“Almost…” He muses while redoing his loose bun. “I think by the end of this week it’ll be good enough.”

“Good enough?” You frown at him and look back again at his work. “Tae… I don’t think it can get anymore accomplished than that.”

He’s silent and still and it arouses your curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You were having like... a weird moment- you were just staring…”

“Oh no, it’s nothing…” He answers a little flustered, getting rid of his dusty gloves. “I was just… fantasizing.”

“About what?” He shakes his head to himself but it’s too late. “Come on, tell me. I wanna know.”

“I was just thinking about sculpting your body… .”

You smile, waiting.

“But like... pregnant.”

Taehyung pouts at your sudden burst. “Why? Why are you laughing? You asked me, I answered you…” He turns again to gaze up at his creation. “You’d be fucking gorgeous.”

Your laughter calms. “I’d be fucking big.”

“You’d be fucking perfection.” He instantly counters.

“‘Right…” You start walking away. “When you’re done fantasizing, come join me. The pizza’s here!”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It- Prologue: Well F**k Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The Losers infiltrate a Child Sex Trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their inside woman. New to the team, Stella has never met the men she will be working with going forward, all except for one that is...

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!! This also deals with mentions of Child Sex slavery, but no details really. 

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

A/N: So this is written for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ 's challenge, and our prompt was the photo below. We'd also like to submit this for @jtargaryen18​ 's 30 Days of Chris challenge. As you will gather form the title, we fully intend this to be  a Series as well, which will arrive at some point. Hope you enjoy, let us know what you think!

Happy Birthday Evans, you beautiful bastard!!

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time. 

It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle. 

A literal paedophile ring. 

"In position..."  

Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it. 

"We have visual on you Colonel..." 

Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..."

"Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..."

"If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted.

“Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..."

"Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage

. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received."

Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less. 

"Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside."

She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights.

"Fuck..."

 Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear.

"This is sick."

 Jensen muttered.

And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move.

He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely. 

The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again.

"Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?"

Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off.

Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her.

"You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath.

"I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now."

"Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open."

"Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come. 

"Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance. 

"Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking."

Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us."

"What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look.

"I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside."

Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open."

Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly.

"It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?"

Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..."

Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman.

"Did you get him?"

She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss." 

"Through the head?" Pooch looked at her.

"It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him."

Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team.

"This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..."

"Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.

Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay."

Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating. 

"Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too."

"Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open.  The 5 of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by 12 year olds..."

"Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. 

She looked at him for a second "I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist.

"I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress.

"Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked  their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders."

"Well..." Jensen nodded, his hands falling to his hips as he looked down at his feet before he glanced back at Stella then Clay "Fuck me."

"Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. 

A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked

"Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth.

 Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged.

Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open  "Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek "It's good to see you Stel."

"You too Jakey"

********

After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller. 

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it. She smiled and took it from him with a thanks..

"Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

He shrugged

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay."

The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling. 

And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. 

Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him. "Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?"

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that."  She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer "Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you...not just the sex...but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head.

"Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it some time..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down besides her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her as she sat besides him, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top...

 As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash. 

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphone had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting."

Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips molded together in a well known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..." 

"Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long.

Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway... 

"This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him.

"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

"JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did. 

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot  beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him,  pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear.

“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

[jksangelic]

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

 Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

 Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

 Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

 Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

 Part Six

 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

 Part Seven

 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

 Part Eight

 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

 Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

 Final Part

 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

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